Leticia [The ADAMS Family]

01

"HAVE YOU been experiencing headaches lately?"

"No,"

"Any dizziness?"

"No,"

"What about vomiting?"

"Yes. This morning,"

Light tapping is heard from the keyboard as my psychiatrist—Linda Simon, types in whatever she's recording. She looks up at me through her cat-shaped black framed glasses with a set frown on her face. Her face is a bit wrinkly but someone can tell that she never misses a day of skincare.

"Are you feeling better now?" She asks and I nod. "What about sleep?"

"What about it?" I ask, interlocking her fingers on my covered kneecaps.

"Are you sleeping well?"

"Yes. The medications are working fine,"

Linda goes silent and after a few seconds, sighs and removes her glasses. "I've been thinking...

I wait.

"...what if you try sleeping without the medications so that we can know if it's something long-

"No."

Linda scowls some more. "You didn't let me finish,"

I shake my head. "I don't care. I'm not stopping," then dropped my crossed leg. "I'm a business woman and the last thing I want to experience is no sleep,"

"Leticia," Linda begins. "As much as these medications are helping you, they are also not safe,"

I shrug. "No medication is safe, Linda. They do their work but they end up harming our liver but that's how the world is. I want to have much needed rest so that I'm not a liability to my father,"

In fact, I'm feeling a headache coming in.

Linda tries to match my stare but she ends up losing with a tired sigh and resumes typing on her laptop. "What about therapy? Have you considered it?"

"No,"

"Why?"

"I talk to you,"

"I'm a psychiatrist, Leticia. My work is to give you a diagnosis, not to be a therapist," she says, her voice sharp but I'm not fazed because this is not the first time my psychiatrist has said this.

Of course, I know that I should have a therapist but I hate talking about my life to people. It's not any of their business and honestly, I have nothing to say. If something's threatening to leave my mouth, I grab a pillow and scream in it. Easy.

"How is your focus?" Linda asks, dismissing their previous conversation.

I sigh and take a look at my clean manicured short nails. "It's...not bad. I try to break big tasks into small ones,"