Free Louder Than Words by Laurie Plissner Page B

camelback leather sofa.
    “MAYBE. I HOPE SO. CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING ELSE?” She nodded again, her pen poised. I rarely asked her any questions, and she was clearly pleased with my newfound interest in therapy. It must have been a nice change from my usual pouting passivity. “WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER ANYTHING FROM MY LIFE BEFORE? I HAVE VAGUE FLASHES, BUT IT’S ALMOST LIKE I’M REMEMBERING SCENES FROM A MOVIE. AND WHEN I TRY TO FORCE MYSELF TO GO BACK, I GET A HEADACHE. WILL I HAVE TO GET MY MEMORIES BACK IF I WANT TO GET MY VOICE BACK?”
    Since meeting Ben, I had become much more interested in getting to know myself, with the hope that I might become better girlfriend material, if by some remote chance he wanted to be more than my comic book superhero. And although I was still reluctant to rifle through my emotional closet for fear of what I might find there, I was at least a little bit curious about who I’d been before my world came crashing down. It was hard to imagine that Ben would stick around for very long unless I got my act together. He wasn’t the kind of guy who had to settle for a fixer-upper.
    “With you, Sasha, I’m afraid that speaking in terms of what has worked for other patients doesn’t apply. For many people, remembering the events that led up to the traumatic episode triggers a flood of memories, and once the patient remembers, she can address the issues that have caused the particular psychic trauma, and the symptoms of the trauma—in your case, muteness—disappear. It’s hard to say, as hysterical mutism is a very rare condition, and when it does occur, it doesn’t usually last very long. Many people experience tragedies, but very few people lose their ability to speak as a result. Four years of silence is practically unheard of.”
    “SO I’M CRAZY AND WEIRD. IS THAT WHAT YOU’RE SAYING?”
    “Not at all, Sasha. It’s just that your reaction to the accident reflects the unique characteristics of your brain. While memory recovery may be the most common way to bring everything to the surface, I can’t say that it’s the only way. If you’re unable to remember, perhaps you should try looking at this as an opportunity to start over. I firmly believe that you can speak again, even if your amnesia is never cured. You will simply travel a different road, but what difference does it make, as long as it gets you where you want to go?”
    “SO TODAY IS THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF MY LIFE?”
    “I know that sounds like something out of a drug rehab brochure, but at this point, I honestly feel you are, in a way, addicted to your silence. You use it to hide out from the world, to avoid dealing with problems and people. That’s exactly what substance abusers do.” Dr. O. put down her pen and paper and leaned forward, seemingly intrigued by her new theory. “Even though terrible things sometimes happen, the world is not such a terrible place. You’re strong enough to handle anything that life throws at you, Sasha. Don’t sell yourself short.”
    I had actually been feeling pretty good when I arrived, but now I was a junkie. Silence was my heroin.
    “THAT SOUNDS BAD.”
    “Don’t be upset. It’s actually good news. Once you’re willing to acknowledge that you’re an addict, you’re well on your way to recovery.”
    I didn’t know quite how to take this revelation. Was Dr. O. going to send me to a twelve-step program to trade sad stories with fellow addicts in a church basement? I’d do it. Thoughts of Ben’s arms wrapped around me for reasons other than protecting me from bad guys made me eager to try just about anything.
    She glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid our time is up. Check back in a month, but feel free to call if you need me sooner. I think you’re doing very well on your own, Sasha. And be good to this boy—he sounds like a keeper.”
    “I’LL DO MY BEST. BUT WE’RE JUST FRIENDS.”
    “That’s how the best relationships begin, as friendships.”
    Dr. O.