The Designer and the Model

Chapter 36 - First therapy session

Seeing a therapist I'd imagined it would be like seeing your local doctor, plain walls and waiting areas smelling of cleaning agents. Overtly friendly receptionist and if you were fortunate, screaming kids.

This was a Victorian-style home with part of the roof shaped into an almost witches hat shape.

Inside, it looked very lived in.

But homely.

Kind of like herbologist, slash spiritualism-y. If I hadn't already been welcomed at the door by her, I would have assumed she would have been older purely by the taste of the house.

Comfortably introduced and set up in a naturally-lit office, I took up a position on a sofa, too clique for the situation. Not laying down like I had seen in every movie ever I leaned against the headrest set on my side as I spoke with the older women in front of me.

Well into her 60s with lengthy ashen hair tightly strapped into a bun, she looked over me as if seeing something uncomfortable to look at.

"Shoe's dear, would you mind?"

"Oh-" slipping them off. I placed my heels neatly on the ground, "sorry."

Her thin lips twitched in a forgiving expression before she jotted down some notes on a bound book she held almost dearly.

Raising her prescription framed gaze to mine, I reminded myself of the last thing Lucinda said to me.

Honesty was going to be super important if this is going to help me... And I did need help, with the disturbing shit going on in my head and the way I've been acting, something needs to change was turned in me.

Collecting the document into my hands to glance over, "I always like to start off with the total understanding of the confidentiality agreement, if that's alright with you?"

"Yeah 'course."

"Lovely. I'll go through it with you now, and I'll leave it with you to look over at your leisure later after we have a complete understanding. Okay?" I gave her a brief nod scanning over the sheet, "right, now Charlotte. Have you recently or in the past gone to see a mental health professional?"

"No."

"Okay. Well, this is even more important to get down before we begin. Now in our sessions together anything you say stays in this room, the good, the bad, the ugly. But, if at any point- which I've never had to - it becomes apparent that you are either a danger to yourself or others, I am legally bound to report it appropriately to the authorities-" The therapist did drone on a bit but I held her attention patiently. The kind look on her lined face kept me nodding and smiling politely.

The 5 minutes she took had me wanting to leave as I signed my name on the paperwork. I didn't want to be here, sitting uncomfortably on the sofa was irritating me, and the longer this went on, the more my anxiety would spike.

"I spoke with your partner as we arranged that I should meet you, I'll let you know she has informed me of the trauma you have been through. As I'm sorry to hear it, but I can assure you with my extensive career background working in psychiatry and phycology; I can help you. It's just a question of time and how much you'll let me in."

Sat up straight, I sighed deeply to release some of the tension building inside of me, "so what do you know?"

"As much as the media. I didn't pry nor did Lucinda seem like a woman to gossip."

"She's not. She wouldn't talk shit behind my back." I agreed solidly and met the old women's gaze, she gave a courteous nod and jotted something down. Eyeing her hand write as she watched me distinctly make her feel uncomfortable.