Vi clutches onto the thin sheet of paper she was given a few days ago.
She had been talking to one of Piltover’s finest mental health therapists and psychiatrists for months, courtesy of her girlfriend and one too many trauma-condensed rants. She had another session today, and at her last one she was told to write down any and every emotion regarding the conclusions her therapist had drawn, and the prospect of possible medication.
The only issue is that she still had yet to check. She knew to an extent, and the countless therapy sessions couldn’t lie, but it was still hard to take in.
There was something fundamentally wrong with her, she had issues going so deep that it reflected her entire personality. Or lack of one? Her psychiatrist said issues like these came from what she dealt with in her childhood, which is funny considering how much she thought she changed, thought she was fine.
And then there were the conversations about Caitlyn.
She loved her, there was no doubt about that. It was how she loved her.
She thought back to one of her initial sessions.
“Hello Vi, how’ve you been feeling lately?” Dr. Huntain asked, a warm smile gracing his face and a bright English accent seeping into his deep, aged voice.
“I’ve been good… but I could be better.” She replied, earning the slightest frown from Dr. Huntain.
His expressions were of some sort of limited range, he never got angry, just disappointed. He would never pity her, just show genuine worry, or empathy, but never pity. Nothing to think that he looked down at her, which was one of her major peeves that she let him know earlier. It was a strict boundary of hers that she decided would never change, she wasn’t weak, she never was.
Although that was one of her problems, her definition of weakness, and how carrying the stress of having to be the strength and rock of her family caused her to lose touch with an important side of herself: her emotions, her fragility, her ability to exist as just human with human nature.
That is what her therapist told her, at least.
“What do you think would improve your mood at this moment, Vi?” Dr. Huntain asked, adjusting his round rimmed glasses, flipping some pages of his small notebook and wetting his thumb with his tongue, but she knew he was hanging on every last syllable of what she was saying.
“If… If I knew how to love.” She said, being blunt and her tone taking on an edge of desperation.
The therapist raised a brow, signaling her to continue.
Vi took a breath, “It’s Caitlyn, she told me I was getting too clingy. All I heard was how annoying I was being and how dependent I am towards her.”
She continued, “This is my first relationship. I haven’t had the time or energy to love someone outside my family or immediate friend groups, if I even had any. I was too busy, I don’t know how to love her right and it makes me scared.”
Vi trailed off into silence, face adopting a red tint and looking up with embarrassment, she knows it isn’t embarrassing to ask for help or advice but when she gets like this, it sure does take a lot of courage to speak up.
She’s an enforcer, and Caitlyn is the sheriff. The last two people in Piltover that one would even suggest relationship struggles about.
The man in front of her scribbled into his book, the pen scratching on paper the only sound in the room for only a handful of seconds.
“So let’s assume that Caitlyn said exactly that, imagine she really told you, ‘Vi, you are annoying and overly dependent on me, I need space,’ and that it wasn’t your interpretation of her words, why exactly would that scare you?” He asked, meeting Vi’s eyes with his own.
“Vocalize it in any way you feel fit, Vi, I am the last person to ever judge you.” He said with a quirky smile, pointing his pen towards the small paperweight on his desk that said ‘Judgement Free Zone! :)’.
Vi rolled her eyes at his antics, but returned to seriousness in a moment.
“But be true to yourself, Vi. I have been meeting with you for a bit now, I know you enough to say that most forms of love are good enough for the average person, and that your insecurities aren’t fully coming from a place of fearing your love not being ‘good enough’.” He says, making air quotes around the last two words.
Vi shifts uncomfortably, head spinning at the fact that one person could read her so accurately even if she didn’t even notice it herself.
She answered him, “It would scare me because it would mean that I’m not good enough. That I’m not on par with her expectations, that this whole time I thought I was doing good but I wasn’t.”
“And…” Dr. Huntain started, waiting for Vi to finish.
“And she will want to leave me. And if she did I don’t know who I would be.”
“That is the root of the issue, isn’t it Vi. You don’t want Caitlyn to leave you, and you have placed your personal sense of individuality into her hands. That is your irrational fear, that one mistake would lead to abandonment and loss of self, am I correct?”
Vi nods, suddenly feeling small in his stark white office.
He stands, grabbing a calico cat stress ball out of his drawer, tossing it up and down. He throws it to her, her reflexes quick and she looks closely at the cute, squishy ball.
“Vi I’ve been working in this field for almost my entire life, I’ve made my own fair share of mistakes and have heard of a whole lot more mistakes from patients over the years. You are not an enigma, and you have the right to feel and interpret things in ways the majority may deem odd or confusing.”
She looked up at him, giving the stress ball a squeeze.
“However I need you to explore the idea of shifting perspectives.”
Vi tilted her head at that, eyes glinting in confusion.
“For example,” He began, “If Caitlyn did something you didn’t like and you told her, would you feel like you’d love her any less afterwards?”
“No.”
“Would you consider leaving her if she had shown signs of being too clingy for your liking?”
“No.” Vi repeated, slowly beginning to understand where he was going.
“You and Caitlyn have a boatload of history and an equally large bond. Whenever I hear you speak of her on a good day, it makes me smile. But I need you to know that this sort of inferiority mindset can be detrimental to both you and the people around you. You are human, perfected with imperfections, a maker of mistakes, and just like everyone else, you are enough.” He stated, with no room for argument.
“Neither you nor Caitlyn are confined within the boxes of good lover or bad lover, just two people from different walks of life who experience and display emotions differently. And in your case, the irrationality is not your fault, nor something you chose.”
The session continued on with the same theme.
She had been asked if she knew what the term favorite person meant, and then he suggested that he leans towards questions from now on to help distinguish the root of her behaviors.
He asked her if she ever heard of Borderline Personality Disorder before.
When she went home that day she cried for hours into her pillow, locking the door and ignoring whatever questions Caitlyn was trying to articulate through the door.
They did get better, and Vi was taught a lot of coping skills, and even now she feels more confident in her sense of self.
Yet here she was, sitting on the floor of her room, her brain stopping her from just opening up the paper and reading the information given.
She looked at the clock, 45 minutes until she was supposed to leave, she looked back at the paper and sighed, tucking it back into her pocket and walking into the kitchen.
The smell of tea was strong, Caitlyn humming and softly swaying her hips as her deep navy blue hair washed over her shoulders.
She turned around at the sound of footsteps and smiled, basically gliding over to give her girlfriend a peck on the lips while she mumbled a greeting.
“You look so tired and you haven’t even gone to your appointment yet. What's bothering you, my dear?” Caitlyn asks, worry etched into her features. She ran a hand through her lover’s hair, the uncontrollable fluff looking like a pink mess in the early hours of the day.
“I got diagnosed last week.” She admitted.
“You did? I’m so sorry for forgetting, did you happen to mention it?”
“No I… I didn’t. I actually haven’t looked at the paper at all. We’ve been talking about it, Dr. Huntain and I, but this is so much more real than I thought.” She said with a heavy sigh.
“You know, Vi, you are so much stronger than you think.” Caitlyn began, the praise sending an uncontrollable shiver up Vi’s spine, “You took the steps to get help and for that I’m so proud of you, you’ve already been through the hard part.”
Vi chuckled at that, “Yeah meeting with a whole bunch of strangers to find out which one would be best fit to figure out what the hell is wrong with you, is pretty tough honestly.”
Caitlyn’s lips twitched up, “Exactly Vi, progress isn’t linear and making certain things official is definitely a shock for most.”
Caitlyn walked back to the stove, taking the tea off and pouring a cup for them both.
Handing one to Vi, she spoke again, “You know, when I first became the sheriff I had so much anxiety that I kept throwing up for weeks! The council was so worried that I wouldn’t be able to do my duties and Jayce had to convince them that it was just big time nerves, Mel backing him up.”
“I was so embarrassed! But I eventually got over it, because I knew the position would allow me to fully be myself, and help people the way I wanted my entire life.”
“This diagnosis will not make or break you, Vi. You are the same girl I met with a hardhead who loved to endanger herself by jumping around Zaun’s most rickety structures.”
Vi closed her eyes for a moment, blowing into her cup and taking a sip of the hot tea.
“I think I’d fare better with you looking at my results with me.” She said after a moment. “And I really appreciate you telling me that, my lovely Cait.”
Caitlyn bumped her shoulder, making sure not to spill either of the drinks on her, taking Vi’s cup she sat it down next to her on the table.
Intertwining their fingers together, Vi kissed the side of Caitlyn’s mouth, the taste of raspberry lingering on her lips.
“Let’s do it then.” Caitlyn said, quietly and with a supportive smile.