R e t r o s p e c t • PSYPHY

Chapter 7: E p o c h

Purple, that was the color of the singular flower in front of me. It had five, maybe six peddles. One had clearly fallen off but wasn't anywhere near it. Perhaps they threw it away once it separated. In this moment, that flower, sitting in its translucent vase with a greenish tint, captivated me. The sounds within this room drowned out. My peripheral view was there yet totally ignored. My seat was warm, I've been here a while. My eyes were dry, I've been staring. My mouth was closed, my breathing slow. I was calm, though not exactly voluntarily.

"That'll be the plan for the next three months. How do you feel about that?"

I blinked, the doctor's words totally escaped me. I didn't want him to think I wasn't listening, so I took these brief moments to pretend like I was processing.

"Yeah, that's fine."

The doctor titled his head, taking a long glance at me from above his glasses.

"Look, Caasi. I know therapy isn't easy for everyone. This is your first time, I get it, it's new, and you're probably still processing everything that's happened recently." He removed his glasses and folded them.

"Just remember, you're not alone. I'm here to help. You didn't give me much to work with today, and that's just fine. Like I said, we'll be meeting once a week for a while. We'll have plenty of time to get to know one another."

"Yeah, I know. Just hearing the terms 'anxiety and depression' sounds like it only goes downhill from here," I roll my eyes.

"Well, it doesn't have to. Think of it as something we know about you right now. It's not permanent, but it should be managed. The goal is to prevent a spiral, right?" he did a quick smile.

I fake smile back, "Right."

He nods, then begins writing me a prescription. It's then that I actually read the name that's engraved on one of his desk ornaments.

Dr. Olivero.

Sounds way too theatrical for a therapist. He tears the prescription from the pad, and hands it to me.

"Fill this before the week ends. Don't forget to journal, and stay positive. Have a nice day, Caasi," he says with a smile that almost seems genuine.

"Thanks, you too." I stand, take the paper, and exit the office.

As I leave through the lobby a few heads turn. I hate when I feel like people are watching me. Like, there's a big sign on my forehead saying 'tune in next time' or something. Admittedly, my life sometimes feels like a movie. Way more as of lately than usual, that is. I finally reach the doors of the building and leave. The air brushes against my face and I'm somehow relieved to feel it. I inhale, hold it, then exhale. What's next? Pull out my phone, obviously.

It's ironic, but despite just coming out of my first therapy session, I decide to talk to someone else about my problems.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Titi."

"Hey, how'd it go?" She asks.

"As fun as you said it'd be,"

"Oh cool, did they whip out the confetti?"

"Yep, the whole shabang," I smiled.

"Nice. Nothing like a party after knowing you're fucked up," she joked.

"Yeah. I think most parents in the city got recommended to do that. Y'know after the whole plane crash incident in Baltimore."

"Well my mom signed me up right after that wild ass train ride. When I explained it, she thought I was going mad. I started to think that myself until I reached out to you again," Titi said.