Narcissism

            Dr. Whitely steepled the long fingers of his hands together, his eyebrows nearly meeting each other in confusion.  He touched the point his fingers made to his lips before letting out a long winded sigh.  His hands disconnected and lowered slowly back to his desk.  He picked up the expensive looking pen and tapped it against his notepad.

            The sound annoyed me, and I shifted in my chair before throwing him a halfhearted glare.  I had no idea why I was even here, and was quite annoyed with the questions he had asked me so far.

            He didn’t glare back, just stared into my eyes until I felt embarrassed and uncomfortable.  I looked down to my lap and crossed my legs at the ankle, tucking them under the chair I was sitting in.  It was a nervous habit I had always had.  I wiggled my right foot, the left touching the floor with the toe of my Nike.

            Dr. Whitely cleared his throat, and I looked up at him.  “And who do you see yourself with in the future?  Are there any girls at your school who interest you?  Any girlfriends you think you may ever want to marry?”

            I shook my head, still not seeing the point of this visit my mom forced me into.  “I see myself living alone.  I don’t need anyone else.”

            So far, the doctor’s questions had been, “Have you ever had sex?” and, “Do you masturbate often?” and even went so far as to ask me what I fantasized about while I got my jollies off.  He was quite surprised when I said I had no one in mind but myself.  That’s when he went all weirdo on me.  I didn’t understand his confusion in the least.

            “Jonathon, I believe it’s time to send you back out to the waiting area.  I need to finish this session with your mother, as this was her concern.”

            I didn’t argue, and left the room quickly, blushing.  The doctor followed me out and I shot my mother a dirty look.  I was so mad at her.  Why did she need to discuss my private life with a fucking shrink?!?  It didn’t take her long to talk to Dr. Whitely.  She soon came out of the room, slinging her purse over her shoulder. 

            “Let’s go, Jonny.”  I flipped her off behind her back.  I was so confused and mad and hurt.  I wanted to strangle my mother, and thought that I just might if she wouldn’t tell me what the fuck was going on.

            When we got in the car, her hands shook as she tried to work the seatbelt into its buckle.  I reached over to help her, and she broke down sobbing.

            I freaked out then.  “Oh my God, mom what the fuck is it then?  Do I have a disease?  Am I going to die?  Have I been saying weird things in my sleep that have you fearing for your life?  What the fucking hell is the matter with me that you feel I need to tell Dr. Weirdo how often I fucking masturbate?  Damn it!” I screamed, slamming my fist into the dashboard.  “Are you some fucking pedo-mom who needs to live her sex life vicariously through her nearly grown son?  Do you watch me jerk off when my door’s cracked open? Fuck!”

            Her head jerked towards me fast, wet eyes open wide and mouth formed in an ‘O’.  She shook her head so fast I thought it would fly off her shoulders and through the windshield.  “Oh my gosh, Jonny!  Are you crazy?  Is that what you really think this was all about?”

            I gave her a withering glare and spat, “I don’t know what this is about at all, since you felt no need to talk to me or tell me a damned thing before taking me to Asylum Sam!”

            She shrunk a bit more and I felt a little bad that I had yelled at her so meanly, but I was so fucking perturbed!  “Honey, please… I was just worried about you.  You spend all your time shut up in your bedroom, sometimes just staring at yourself in the mirror.  Your sheets need washed almost every morning.  You never go out with friends or invite them over.  You don’t even talk to me, your poor mom.  I try to get you to communicate with me and you never do.  I was at my wits end when I contacted Dr. Whitely.”

            I gave a hollow laugh.  “And just what did Dr. Whitely tell you?  I don’t understand just why you think there is something wrong with me.  Obviously there is, though, since you were crying about it so much.”  I waited almost a whole minute in silence before crossing my arms and looking out the passenger window.  I saw my miniature reflection in the mirror and smiled a bit.  Even angry and heartbroken, I looked fucking adorable.

            “There you go doing it again,” my mom said quietly.

            I turned to look at her.  “Doing what?”

            “You’re smiling at yourself in the mirror.”  She started the car, and put it in reverse, backing out of the parking space.  I hoped we were heading home.  I felt in severe need of a nap.

            I opened the overhead mirror and stared at it all the way home, sometimes making funny faces at it, or grinning hugely to see my pearly whites.  I turned my face this way and that, checking for blackheads, of which I found none.

            Just as we were pulling into the driveway at our house, my mother reached into her purse and withdrew a pamphlet.  On the cover there was a girl hugging herself and staring into a mirror longingly, a small but pretty smile on her perfect face.  The word ‘Narcissism’ was in bold print across the top.

            I looked at my mother with faux fear in my eyes.  “Is it deadly?  Contagious, maybe?” 

            My mother chuckled and patted my knee.  She knew that I knew it was neither of those things.  Her eyes grew serious again.  “No matter what, Jonny…  No matter who you are and who you love, I will always love you.”

            I watched her walk to the house, choosing to stay in the car for a while.  I cracked the window and took a deep, refreshing breath before opening the pamphlet.  I began to read.