I Sat Outside Of The Psychiatrist 's Office Dr. Janice Marten

943 Words Aug 17th, 2015 4 Pages
I sat outside of the psychiatrist’s office—Dr. Janice Marten, M.D.— in a black, squeaking leather chair, ruminating on how things got so bad as to need to take my child, Zachary, to a psychiatrist.
Truthfully, I blamed myself. If only I had realized how much of a scumbag Joshua was, if only I had never been taken by his good looks and charm, if only I had never married him, if only I had realized what was going on—for years—behind my back. If only, if only.
There, of course, had been clues to his cheating. He would come home late and was distant towards our son and me, he’d have work on our usual family weekends and date nights, and he decided that we should have separate bank accounts again. It made me feel like such an idiot, and ashamed at my stupidity when Zachary had found the video of Joshua almost ankle deep in some intern.
Maybe if I hadn’t been so absorbed in my separation from Joshua, I would’ve noticed what was happening with Zachary. According to his teachers, he’d withdrawn from his friends and classes, his normally healthy appetite fell to nil, he’d begun wetting the bed, and most damning of all, he’d begun to have disturbingly descriptive nightmares about a monster who would chase him and bite him all over, or sometimes even—my words, not his—kill him.
When I heard the door click open, I looked up to see a wide smile on Zachary’s cherubic face, and a lollipop sticking out of his mouth. I smiled at him, sure that the smile didn’t reach my eyes, but Zachary…

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