When did this get out of hand?
Personally I haven't a god damn clue! Though there are plenty of hints and moments in which seemed to speed these 'event's' along. But all said and done there are 'three' people to blame. One of them was me, one of them was my therapist, and the last was my attorney. They make a lovely pair but oddly enough they have, NO FUCKING INTEREST in one another... That'd certainly lighten my load a bit.
She's a lesbian and he's a fag, and they both love playing with their toy...me. SO this conundrum I imagine is bouncing around in your head, but if you're clever I think you can figure it out for yourself. She loves to doll me up and encourages me to 'embrace' my feminine side. He likes knowing how far from feminine I am, and half the reason I'm still of 'sound' mind as he put it. Miserable, bitter, and so tightly wound that the slightest breeze makes me moan through clenched teeth. Luckily I'm aloud to speak my mind, 'he' enjoys it, 'she'...not so much, so I cute it up a little...bitch.
My name is Wynne Snoe, and let me tell you a story...its not over yet and doesn't look like it'll ever will be but it's gotta start somewhere, and lemme tell you where.
Psychological trauma, caused by witnessing something even I refuse to talk about. Long story short a kid should never see that much carnage no more than ten feet from his front door and to be 'absolutely' sure that his parents were gone and what a three car pile up looked like up close. Suffice it to say there's reason I moved to the country and that I'm a 'shut in' or rather I suffer a form of Agoraphobia. I really do not like going 'out' but sometimes I have to and I always found myself running home before I decide to crawl into a small dark space and hide until its dark and no-one's around. I'm a helluva people person...you'll see.
As the story goes, I found ways to cope. Working from home was one, take-out was another. Therapy was court-ordered after I freaked out at the bank...there's no reason for people to stand that close. Then again screaming and raving at room of twenty people with less than polite language and elbowing a security guard or two in the face.
I didn't like these 'egg heads' and they took up my time; I needed to draw and naughty art while paying well isn't exactly easy with someone breathing down your neck. I went through three of them before I met 'him'. Ian Elway...thought he was a Nazi at first, tall blonde dark eyes, nice tan, great body. What can I say an artist appreciate art where-ever he finds it, and Ian was a masterpiece of a man. Kinda like a blonde 'Hugh Jackman'.
Don't get me wrong I'm not...wait I 'wasn't' gay. I could still appreciate how attractive he was. Worse was that look he gave me when we first met. It was odd feeling, a warm but burrowing gaze like he was measuring me. Demon's in angels' skin and all that jazz.
"Wynne right?" That voice much like the rest of him was charming, smooth as a snake's scales.
"Yeah and you're the shrink, Hi, come in...close the fucking door." I was watching TV at the time, so I 'suggested' he let himself in. I'd been in the house for around a month at this point, the 'cleaning' lady the delivery guy were the only people that saw me on regular basis.
"Wow..." He actually looked surprised from behind those oval wire frames he wore. "You're a lot cleaner than the last person I treated..."
"Wow, back atya Doc, you're a lot less of a dork than the last guy." I smirked proudly with my trained and deadly sharp tongue. Ian stayed his distance, taking a seat in the recliner to my right. He was staring again. "Hope you're not falling in love with me Doc, might violate your ethics."
"I might be." That made me blush for the first time in a long time, then again I didn't date much... or at all. "You're just not the typical kind of person that has 'this' problem." Gesturing to my 'fortress of solitude' blinds draw warm colors, things in their proper place...my 'room' was another matter, bit disorganized.
"How's that Doc?" I was curious, but kept a cautious Eye on him pretending to stay interested in what I was watching. To this day I forget what the program was.
"Young, male, clean, and that 'attitude'." He seemed to smile a little too much as he emphasized attitude. Should've been my first sign to say 'fuck-off' but because he was so...pretty. Little did I know he was thinking the same thing, more or less. A few things you may need to know about Agoraphobia...fun facts;
The symptoms are ladylike...in a social science kinda way. I read the long version once so I could throw some big words at my last therapist, it was amusing. But it's a combination of- helplessness, dependence, unassertiveness, and accommodation and paralyzing fear and panic. So long story short if I go outside and I cry like a girl. Then again I'm no expert this is just what I understood from wikipedia and personal experience...and what Weiss would use against me as time went on.
The next week went the same way every other session had, ending in a failed attempt to step more than ten feet from my door for longer than three minutes without a REALLY good reason to go any further like paying my bills. Everything tried with the others didn't work but Dr. Elway was being thorough...as he put it. Saying that not all therapists were 'him'. Ian had a HUGE ego...I'd find out how big much later.
The next week was where things got...weird. I was a little less of a 'dick' since the good doctor was playing nice too. What was weird was his new idea for, exposure treatment. Rather than just taking me outside and pushing me till I started running back for the door and black panic devoured my soul, for a colourful turn of phrase. Ian decided to 'distract' me from all those things out there, focus my mind on something other than the 'world' around me and all those pointy objects out there.
It started with a hat...beat my record...things were looking up, but it was a band aid. Temporary I'd forget about it and then all that fear came flooding back as I saw, people and planes and cars...god I hate cars! I was pissed at him threw the hat and told him to leave and not come back.
That was first time I saw him 'take charge'. I felt small and helpless pinned to a wall...but in fact he was smiling and had one hand lightly on my shoulder, while his eyes and the tone of his voice nearly crushed me. "I AM not giving up on helping you Wynne, and you aren't going to get rid of me that easily."
That was the another step down the slope. We tried things...ridiculous things wigs, stupid shirts, funny shoes, itchy underwear... He was just running me through a few hoops first to get me used to the idea of doing 'outrageous' things. My definition of outrageous has grown considerably since.
