I finish writing my session note fo

I finish writing my session note for Pamela’s file, and then read it over to make sure it’s complete. She’s getting ready to find her own place. She’s finally moving on. But she’s haunted by nightmares of what her boyfriend did to her, and she’s desperately afraid that he’s going to track her down. We did a lot of safety planning, and I hope it’s enough. I also hope she follows up with the referral I gave her. She needs to see someone who specializes in treating PTSD. She deserves to make a fresh start.
A fresh start. Is that even possible? We all begin with a white canvas, but once it’s got paint on it, you can’t undo that. You can try to cover it up, but it’s always there. Caleb’s face floats behind my closed eyelids, and I blink quickly and file the note away, wishing I could do the same with my memories of Caleb.
Leaving him this morning wasn’t easy. I’m not sure when I’ll see him again. I’m not sure what I should do. I called my former therapist and made an appointment, to give myself a space to sort it out. Am I drawn to Caleb because he’s damaged? Because he’s dangerous, even though I’ve seen no sign of that so far? Is he like Alex? Everything I heard from Jude made him sound that way, but every moment I’ve spent with Caleb tells me otherwise. But can I trust myself? Can I trust Caleb? And … is it fair to ask him for anything, considering what’s going on with him?
Whatever Jude thinks, it’s obvious Caleb loves his sister, and it’s also obvious that he’s fierce about taking care of her. I’m betting that locked cabinet in his kitchen contains her meds, along with anything sharp in that apartment, because nothing was left out. I checked the cutlery drawer and the other cabinets. Even though I could smell cleaning products, they were all locked away, too. He’s trying to keep his sister from hurting herself. I’m sure of it. From what I observed last night with Catherine in the hospital, he needs to do exactly that. She’s a danger to herself.
And Caleb thinks it’s his fault. He’s been carrying that burden for half his life. The depth of that trauma makes my own pathetic issues seem like a picnic in the park.
“I’m so glad I caught you!” says Justine, bustling into the office. “How’s Pamela?”
“Brave,” I murmur.
Justine smiles. “She really likes you. She told me she wishes she could keep you as her therapist.”
“She makes it easy. She’s so open about things.”
Justine pats my shoulder. “Not to everyone. You make her feel safe.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out two tickets, rectangular pieces of cardstock with some antique-like printing on them. “These are for the charity auction in November. I thought you might like to come.”
I take the tickets from her, smiling. “You’ll be there?”
“I wouldn’t miss it! I don’t get much chance to dress up. The Dexters are so nice to host it this year. You should see their house! It’s unbelievable. Right on the lake.” She’s practically shivering with excitement.
“Have you gotten a lot of donations for the auction?”
She shrugs. “Some of the local gallery owners have donated a piece here or there. We have some nice packages from the boutiques downtown, too. Like a spa weekend—that’s the one I would bid on if I had any money!”
I remember Caleb’s heart, pounding beneath my palm as I asked him if he’d donate a painting. It would be such an opportunity for him, but also a risk, and that was what scared him, I’m sure. “Have you asked some of the artists from the co-op?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know anyone there, but maybe—”
“I know some of them. I could ask.”
When Justine smiles, she is so lovely. Hers is exactly the kind of face I’d want to see if I needed help and reassurance. “That would be nice. Let me know what they say.” She slides a few flyers across her desk. “You could put these up, if you have time.”
“Sure thing.” I tuck them into my bag.
“So … will you be bringing anyone?” she asks, cutting me a sly look.
“What, to the auction?” Stupidly, I imagine going to something like that with Caleb, and then I return to reality. “Yeah, I might bring a friend.”
“A man friend?”
I laugh. “A man friend, yes. He’s got a special man friend of his own, so don’t get too excited.”
She tilts her head. “You’re such a lovely young woman. I find it hard to believe you don’t have anyone special.”
Once again, Caleb enters my mind, the way he said my name, the way he held me tight, wrapped himself around me, made me feel like he didn’t want to let go. “It’s hard …” I sigh. “It’s hard.”
She stares at me. “It is. Finding a good man, one who treats you like you deserve to be treated—it’s not like they’re falling from trees.” She sits on the edge of her desk. “After I escaped my first husband, I didn’t think such a man existed, but then I met Craig.”
“How did you know he was a good man?”
She gives me a puzzled look. “An abuser can’t hide what he is, not forever, not for long, even. Craig lets me be me—in fact,

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Aku selesai menulis catatan sesi saya untuk Pamela file, dan kemudian membaca untuk memastikan lengkap. Dia bersiap-siap untuk menemukan tempatnya sendiri. Dia akhirnya bergerak di. Tetapi dia yang dihantui oleh mimpi buruk dari apa pacarnya lakukan padanya, dan dia sangat takut bahwa ia akan melacak nya. Kami melakukan banyak perencanaan keselamatan, dan saya berharap itu sudah cukup. Saya juga berharap dia menindaklanjuti dengan arahan aku memberinya. Dia perlu melihat seseorang yang mengkhususkan diri dalam mengobati PTSD. Dia pantas untuk membuat sebuah awal baru.Sebuah awal yang baru. Apakah itu mungkin? Kita semua mulai dengan kanvas putih, tapi setelah itu punya cat di atasnya, Anda tidak dapat membatalkan itu. Anda dapat mencoba untuk menutupi, tapi itu selalu ada. Caleb wajah mengapung di balik kelopak mataku tertutup, dan aku berkedip dengan cepat dan file catatan, berharap aku bisa melakukan yang sama dengan kenangan saya Kaleb.Meninggalkan Dia pagi ini tidak mudah. Saya tidak yakin kapan aku akan melihat dia lagi. Saya tidak yakin apa yang harus saya lakukan. Aku menelepon terapis mantan saya dan membuat janji, memberi diriku ruang untuk mengatasinya. Saya tertarik kepada Kaleb karena ia rusak? Karena dia berbahaya, meskipun aku pernah melihat ada tanda-tanda yang begitu jauh? Apakah dia seperti Alex? Segala sesuatu yang saya dengar dari Yudas membuatnya terdengar seperti itu, tetapi setiap saat aku telah menghabiskan dengan Kaleb memberitahu saya sebaliknya. Tapi bisa saya percaya diri? Dapatkah saya percaya Kaleb? Dan... itu adil untuk meminta apa-apa, mengingat apa yang terjadi dengannya?Apa pun Yudas berpikir, hal ini jelas Kaleb mengasihi saudaranya, dan ianya juga jelas bahwa dia sengit tentang merawat. Aku bertaruh bahwa terkunci kabinet dapur mengandung obat-obatan nya, bersama dengan apa pun yang tajam di apartemen yang, karena tidak ada yang tersisa. Aku memeriksa sendok garpu laci dan lemari lainnya. Meskipun aku bisa mencium bau produk pembersih, mereka semua dikurung, terlalu. Dia mencoba untuk menjaga adiknya dari menyakiti dirinya sendiri. Saya yakin itu. Dari apa saya mengamati semalam dengan Catherine di rumah sakit, ia perlu untuk melakukan hal itu. Dia adalah bahaya untuk dirinya sendiri.Dan Kaleb berpikir itu adalah kesalahan. Dia telah membawa beban yang setengah hidupnya. Kedalaman bahwa trauma membuat masalah saya sendiri menyedihkan tampak seperti piknik di taman."Saya sangat senang saya menangkap Anda!" kata Justine, ramai ke kantor. "Bagaimana Apakah Pamela?""Brave," gumamku.Justine tersenyum. "Dia benar-benar menyukai Anda. Dia bilang dia ingin dia bisa menjaga Anda sebagai terapis nya.""Dia membuatnya mudah. Dia begitu terbuka tentang hal-hal."Justine menepuk pundak saya. "Tidak untuk semua orang. Anda membuatnya merasa aman." Dia mencapai koceknya dan mengeluarkan dua Tiket, persegi panjang potongan cardstock dengan beberapa antik-seperti pencetakan pada mereka. "Ini adalah untuk lelang amal pada bulan November. Saya pikir Anda mungkin ingin datang."Aku mengambil tiket dari dia, tersenyum. "Anda akan berada di sana?"“I wouldn’t miss it! I don’t get much chance to dress up. The Dexters are so nice to host it this year. You should see their house! It’s unbelievable. Right on the lake.” She’s practically shivering with excitement.“Have you gotten a lot of donations for the auction?”She shrugs. “Some of the local gallery owners have donated a piece here or there. We have some nice packages from the boutiques downtown, too. Like a spa weekend—that’s the one I would bid on if I had any money!”I remember Caleb’s heart, pounding beneath my palm as I asked him if he’d donate a painting. It would be such an opportunity for him, but also a risk, and that was what scared him, I’m sure. “Have you asked some of the artists from the co-op?”She shakes her head. “I don’t know anyone there, but maybe—”“I know some of them. I could ask.”When Justine smiles, she is so lovely. Hers is exactly the kind of face I’d want to see if I needed help and reassurance. “That would be nice. Let me know what they say.” She slides a few flyers across her desk. “You could put these up, if you have time.”“Sure thing.” I tuck them into my bag.“So … will you be bringing anyone?” she asks, cutting me a sly look.“What, to the auction?” Stupidly, I imagine going to something like that with Caleb, and then I return to reality. “Yeah, I might bring a friend.”“A man friend?”I laugh. “A man friend, yes. He’s got a special man friend of his own, so don’t get too excited.”She tilts her head. “You’re such a lovely young woman. I find it hard to believe you don’t have anyone special.”Once again, Caleb enters my mind, the way he said my name, the way he held me tight, wrapped himself around me, made me feel like he didn’t want to let go. “It’s hard …” I sigh. “It’s hard.”She stares at me. “It is. Finding a good man, one who treats you like you deserve to be treated—it’s not like they’re falling from trees.” She sits on the edge of her desk. “After I escaped my first husband, I didn’t think such a man existed, but then I met Craig.”“How did you know he was a good man?”She gives me a puzzled look. “An abuser can’t hide what he is, not forever, not for long, even. Craig lets me be me—in fact,