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August 30th, 91
I sat down in front of the receptionist's desk whose name was Annie. waiting for my turn to go into the office. The office was neat. A gray carpet without a speck of dirt on it. It looked like the carpet was vacuumed every morning and night after the steps of clients walking in and out. The walls were white with three artworks that were probably designed by Picasso himself that made no sense to the clients but made sense to Annie and the therapist. That's if the therapist told Annie what they were about. The pamphlets in the holders were lined up neatly. Not a single paper is out of order. The plants were real and well taken care of, watered down, and given sunshine when needed. The reception desk was uncluttered and swiftly clean with no residue or dust in sight.
My observation of the therapist is that she is orderly and efficient. A very well-organized person who thrives on cleanliness and excellent time management skills.
Dr. Joanna Lambert was her name. I read her credentials before coming here. She went to Harvard University and graduated with honors. PhD in psychology. Top of her class. She has written numerous books and research papers regarding human development. A recent one that was just sold out in stores. Understanding aSociopath. She has also worked with numerous people who have behavioral, emotional, and social problems amongst other things. She has even given speeches to universities across America. She was well-known by many. Not a single complaint was made about her. So that should ease me, shouldn't it?
No, it doesn't. Because apparently, I'm here because I have behavioral problems. Which doesn't make sense because I thought I would be here for the trauma I went through in 87. I've gladly admitted that I have an attitude problem. And that I do somewhat take after Tamara. And I can be lost at times in my head. But behavioral?
I'm wondering if it will be too late to back out now. I could easily just ask to go to the washroom and never return. When receptionist Annie calls wanting to find out where I am. I would just tell her I have an important meeting to attend and that I will give her a call back when I'm free. Which would be never.
I will admit, although I'm extremely nervous. I'm happy I'm here to speak to a therapist. But I still don't feel comfortable talking to a stranger. In the back of my mind, I still think about my mom always saying we should never talk to strangers about our business. How do I know she won't take the information I tell her to someone else? Like the media. It makes me feel vulnerable now just thinking about that. Having to trust someone whom I don't know. Open to them about personal issues I've kept to myself. I only trusted Dr. Lars because Nikki was with me. But now I'm here by myself with someone he recommended for me to see.
I snap from my thoughts as the door opens. A gentleman walks out of the room blocking the view of the Dr. as he turns around to thank her multiple times. She pats his arm and sends him on his way towards Annie's desk to schedule another appointment. I hope that's not going to be me. I feel like I should only require one session and that's it.
