She sat in the waiting room. Nervous. She made it a point to be as cool and calm as possible. She secretly always thanked her dad for teaching her how to play poker and chess at the age of 7. Learning the nuances of the games and strategy and even especially how to have a good poker face had proved invaluable lessons throughout her entire life.
She knew she was good at biding her time, waiting for the perfect hands. She knew people at the table grew to know if she called she had something and she used it to her advantage sometimes when she knew she had the upper hand.
She also knew she was one of the best defense players she knew at chess but often that just meant delayed defeat as opposed to glory. She knew she had to shift to having a better offense.
And that’s what she was doing in this office today. Improving her offense. She wondered who would come out this time ahead of her appointment. Last time it had been a pudgy middle aged suburban housewife that didn’t want to make eye contact with Mars, even though she wanted to offer a kind smile.
She wondered what the men that came to this clinic looked like. She knew this therapist, unlike most that specialize in pedophiles or victims of abuse, took both spectrums of clients and everything in between. She even had a caseload of people already in the system.
This scared Mars. She knew there were fine laws drawn in the sand for these things legally and she consoled herself that her thoughts and sexual triggers were normal given what she had gone through and that no one would or could or did police those. She remembered that episode in Star Trek where they landed on a planet that did police thoughts and that gave her chills. Did it matter that in her thoughts she was the one being abused? Did it make it worse? She was so confused.
The therapist was running late. She wanted to knock on the door. Like it wasn’t hard enough just being here to begin with. She knew she had to come. She needed help. She was tired of doing this alone. Very few people understood the breath of her trauma, even her… as she had blocked so much of it out. Few new the depths of her pain and the way the thoughts would terrorize her.
Come on…she thought as the door finally opened.
“Here we go” she said as she squeezed her nails into the palm of her hand hard. The pain felt soothing. Here we go.