CHAPTER 15

Shrink Sessions

Cliff didn’t jump into therapy right away. The idea hung around like an uninvited guest, popping up at odd moments—usually when he was staring at the ceiling at 3 a.m., wondering if there was a manual for getting his life together. He knew he needed to talk to someone, to untangle the mess in his head, but the thought of spilling his guts to a local therapist made his stomach turn. What if they judged him? What if they didn’t understand? The idea of being misunderstood was almost as terrifying as the nightmares that haunted him.

And so, like any self-respecting introvert in the digital age, Cliff turned to the internet. He stumbled upon a treasure trove of online therapy services, each promising anonymity and comfort from the safety of his laptop screen. One service even offered therapy via text chat, which instantly became his favorite option. Who wouldn’t want to unload their problems without even having to brush their hair or leave the house? Cliff could hide behind his screen, his keyboard as his shield, and still get the help he so desperately needed.

After a quick registration process, Cliff was prompted to write down his story—everything that had been weighing on him. He hesitated for a moment, then started typing. The words flowed out in a torrent. He wrote about Venus, her illness, and how it felt like a ticking time bomb in their lives. He wrote about Canvas’s anxiety, Melody’s bursts of anger, and Fable’s wandering mind at school. These were more than just childhood quirks—they were reflections of the undercurrents in their family life, which we’ll explore in more detail in a later chapter.

He poured out his frustrations with COVID, the sleepless nights, and the private breakdowns he experienced in the most unlikely places—like the corniche or during a run. When he was done, he hit “send” and waited, feeling a mix of relief and dread.

Soon, a therapist was assigned to him. She didn’t waste time with small talk. Instead, she asked questions that cut right to the heart of things, digging deeper into the dark corners of Cliff’s mind. The sessions felt like a mental excavation—uncovering buried fears and insecurities that Cliff had spent years pretending didn’t exist. It wasn’t exactly fun, but there was something oddly comforting about having someone to guide him through the labyrinth of his thoughts. Of course, Cliff still preferred the safety of text chat—there was something less daunting about typing out his deepest fears than saying them out loud.

For six months, they explored the hidden recesses of Cliff’s mind together. The therapist didn’t hand him solutions on a silver platter; instead, she nudged him to find his own answers. More often than not, Cliff found that he knew what he needed to do all along—he just needed someone to confirm it wasn’t completely insane. Slowly, changes started to take root. He began to build routines—simple things like stretching every morning and unwinding with a book before bed. He cut out the late-night snacks that always seemed like a good idea until 2 a.m. rolled around and his stomach disagreed.

In the coming chapters, we’ll dive into some of the specific changes Cliff made, each one a small but significant step on his journey to reclaim his life…