I forgot that the wine made from graves grape from the Bordeaux region needs to breathe. When I opened it yesterday it smelled as pungent as the Gruyère I brought to my father for thanksgiving.
It’s 4 minutes before the last group therapy session and I didn’t give this fucking stinky wine time to breathe. I pour a glass. Half with ice. Half with wine.
I was testing myself. Do I have enough balls to drink a glass of white in group? I wasn’t quite sure. I decided to feel out how the last session would go. I was able to take a rather large sip just as group was about to start.
“Well, it’s our last group ladies and gentleman.” This very sweet guy that I exchanged messages with in the chat was our only guy.
“We are going to recap sessions 1–5. We will get started with our breathing techniques”
She is referring to the breathing techniques that no one likes. Our cameras are off for this part which allowed me to not breathe and drink another sip of wine. As it gets colder it’s more drinkable. The more depressed I am the more drinkable it is.
“Okay! Cameras back on.”
The facilitator literally fucking reviewed every fucking slide from week 1 through week 5. I stopped paying attention and began to scroll through the participants. Joy was twirling her red curly hair. Laura was eating something from a brown paper to go box. The only gentleman in the group left. There were 3 trainees, the facilitator, and some sort of health coach who said nothing. That left only 9 participants left.
“Starting in January we are offering this series again. In case, you know….you want a refresher.”
Knowing that I would never participate in any group therapy sessions with this facilitator again, I openly drank this overly expensive gross tasting wine on camera. I didn’t care what the facilitator thought. She was trash. I did scroll to my peers and no one give me drinking a second look.
“If anyone wants to stay a little….” I quickly hit leave and was out. I was back to the life that I had. One of sticking points in my brain that froze joy to over 10 years ago when my nephews were young, and I was one of their “love yous.”