therapy / e.d

2

I tap my foot anxiously in the waiting room. My fingers rest by my chin as I bite the nail of my index finger anxiously. "You don't have to wait with me you know." I tell mom.

She rests her hands in her lap. "I know. I didn't want you to feel alone. And I thought I'd say hello to Dr Evans. He's a good friend of mine." Of course, the therapists are friends.

I sigh impatiently, checking the watch on my wrist. Just as the hand points to 2, the door to his office opens and I perk up. A middle aged woman walks out. I see her hands shaking as she says goodbye to Dr Evans before leaving the building. I am not excited for this, at all.

I cautiously rise from my seat as well as mom. I wonder why that woman was here, what problems she has, what causes her hands to shake like that.

Then, a male walks out. The therapist. He wears round framed glasses, a sweater and his dark hair is thinning at the top of his head.

"Ah, nice to see you, Jen." He nods to mom.

"You too, Greg. This is my daughter, Mia." Mom gestures to me and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Mia. I'm Dr Evans." He extends his right hand and I shake it politely, thinking to myself how the hell I'm going to open my life up to this man.

"Well, I'll be back in an hour to pick you up. Please cooperate okay?" Mom grabs ahold of my shoulder before walking out, waving goodbye to the both of us. When the door shuts, I let out a deep breath.

"Please. Come in, take a seat." Dr Evans points to the white chair in the room and I walk into the office.

It's spacious. It's almost like a living room. I sit on the white chair and it's more comfortable than the living room couch at home. I glance at the walls which are filled with soft paintings. There's a psychology degree hanging above the cabinets in a corner.

He follows behind me, shutting the door, making me whip my head anxiously at the noise. He sits on the grey chair opposite to mine. A low table lies between us.

I immediately bring my knees up to my chest, trying to get comfortable. I need to keep myself calm. My back leans on the arm rest of the chair and the sun hits my face from the window in front of me.

"So, Mia. I want to start by saying I'm not here to give you advice on how to live your life. I'm simply here to help you change and better yourself. That is, if you're willing to try." He begins, making my eyes meet his.

"There's nothing wrong with me." I shake my head. The more I say those words, the less I believe it.

"Mia, the first step to recovery is acceptance. Being in denial won't get you anywhere." He says softly. I wrap my arms around my legs and he observes my actions. "May I ask why you sit like that?"

I loosen the grip of my arms and try and gulp the dryness from my throat. I hoped he wouldn't notice. "I don't know... I just do."

"Have you always sat like that?" He asks and I think about his question. Surprisingly no. I shake my head timidly.

"It may be due to anxiety. Sitting like that provides you with safety and comfort. Yes?" I nod my head in surprise. He hums, pushing his glasses up the ridge of his pointy nose. "Okay, instead of diving straight into it, I want you to feel comfortable. I'll tell you three facts about me and you'll do the same? Is that okay?"

This isn't what I thought it was going to be. He seems like a nice man. I nod.

"My name's Greg Evans. I have two kids, I enjoy fishing and watching documentaries." He crosses his legs. He nods for me to start. I haven't even thought about three facts.