The Antidote of Loving

Hello, it's me being vulnerable all over again. 

I remember when I first came into my therapist's room, she asked, "What do you want from this session?"

As someone who learns medicine myself, it is important to know what is the patient's expectation towards the physician. The chief complaint which bring them to seek help. 

I did not remember what exactly my answer was. Maybe it was, "I'm going to enter my clinical rotation. I want to have a better understanding about my defense mechanism. I don't want this problem ruins my study." 

I did not come once. 

Of course, one session is not enough.

But then, even until the seventh session, it is still not... enough. 

Yes, I got better, I could feel it but the progress, even stated by my therapist, is not significant. 

I still feel trapped,

the episode of me freaking out still comes once in a while. And I am so sick of it. 

I am so sick of myself. 

I lost count on how many times I hate the figure in front of the mirror. 

As the time goes by, I realize that I have been lying all this time. I did not tell the truth; both to my therapist and myself. 

My real purpose was not to improve my defense mechanism. It was not about preparing for my clinical rotation. In fact, this very profession, is the only thing which bound me. 

No. It was not about myself.

And that is why it took so long. 

So hard. So frustating.

If the question repeated again, 

"What do you want from this session?"

Then the real answer would be, "I want to forget."

And that's, my darling, the thing I know wouldn't happen. 

Because how could you forget when talking to your therapist means you need to retell the scenario all over again?  

Because how could you forget when you really know that is the only thing keeps you awake at 3 o'clock. 

The antidote of loving is not hate. 

It is don't care at all. It is forget. 

Just like an Obliviate charm. 

And deep down, I know, the purpose why I came to my therapist was, and of course still,  I want someone to do that obliviate charm to me.

During the counselling sessions, she kept repeating the art of forgiving. 

But I do not want to forgive. 

I want to forget.

I want to forget; 

all of it. all of them.

I do not want to hate,

I want to stop loving,

So I want to forget, 

could I?