Read Online Am I Normal Yet? by Holly Bourne - Free Book Online

compose myself. They’re never “there there”, Cognitive Behavioural Therapists. They’re more like having a strict teacher that you know cares about their students deep down somewhere. The most sympathy I’ve ever got out of Sarah was a silent passing of the tissue box.
    â€œWe’ve discussed this, Evie, remember? That these thoughts could come back now you’re reducing your medicine?”
    I nodded, looking at a scuff on the carpet. “I know. But I just sort of thought maybe that wouldn’t happen and I would get lucky or something. I must get lucky at some point, right?”
    â€œWhat’s important to remember is that you’ve got all the techniques now, to deal with these thoughts when you have them.”
    â€œCan’t I just never have bad thoughts? Can’t they just go away for ever?”
    And, for once, there was a bit of sympathy in her eyes. Because that wasn’t going to happen. She knew it. I knew it. I just wished I didn’t know it.

Nine
    Mum was cooking dinner when I got back – wearing the apron of doom. “Doom” because her cooking evoked fear in even the strongest-stomached of people. She heard me slam the front door and peeked round from the kitchen, over the top of Rose, who was engrossed in some awful music video on TV where none of the girls seemed to be allowed to wear clothes.
    â€œHow was your appointment?” She nodded her head towards Rose and gave me a stern look.
    Rose didn’t even look away from the screen. “Yeah, Evie,” she said. “How was therapy?”
    â€œIt’s not therapy,” Mum butted right in. “Is it, Evie? It’s just a check-up?”
    â€œOh for God’s sake, Mum,” Rose said, turning round on the sofa. “I know she goes to therapy.”
    I leaned against the wall and held my breath.
    â€œWell…yes… but we don’t all have to call it that, do we?”
    â€œWhy not?”
    Dad bowled into the living room then, brandishing a large glass of red wine. The smiley stain around his lips suggested it wasn’t his first. Dad tended to self-medicate himself before Mum attempted cooking. “All right, Evie?” he asked. “How was your therapy session with Sarah?”
    â€œIt was…great,” I said. As I always did. “Very…umm…” I looked at Rose who was pulling a face, and laughed. “Very therapyish.” And Rose laughed too.
    Mum’s lips went all tight and she disappeared into the kitchen.
    â€œGood, good, well I’m just going to read the news before we eat.” And Dad tapped me slightly affectionately on the shoulder before withdrawing to his study. I slobbed down next to Rose.
    â€œShe’ll tell me off later, you know,” I said, looking at the half-naked stick insects on the screen and immediately regretting eating a Mars bar at lunch. Stupid music video.
    â€œI know. How was it anyway?”
    â€œI’m not allowed to talk to you about it, you’re too impressionable.” I ruffled her hair with a cushion and Rose “oi”ed and batted me off.
    â€œAnxiety isn’t chlamydia.”
    â€œYou, missy, are far too young to know about chlamydia.”
    â€œI’m twelve. I have internet access. And boys at school who accuse each other of having it.”
    â€œI’m scared for your generation.”
    â€œEveryone’s always scared for someone else’s generation.”
    â€œYou are far too wise, little one. Far too wise.”
    She was, Rose. Wise, I mean. I never really believed in the wise little sister thing – thought it was just a narrative device in indie films. Then Rose grew up and started spewing out wiseness like it was bogeys in cold season.
    â€œI’d better go make peace with Mum.” I stood up and stretched.
    â€œWhy? You’ve not done anything wrong.”
    â€œAhh, dear Rose. But an easy life. Anything for an easy