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I was worried that after seeing my responses Dr. Morales might want to commit me on the spot. Which might not be so bad. Then I wouldn’t have to make any decisions about Jonah while I was in there. Knowing him, though, he would find a way to come visit me even if he had to break in.
I hadn’t seen him since Thanksgiving night. He’d said he knew he was coming on strong and would give me some space. Emphasis on some. He planned on contacting me today after my therapy session. He was the only person I’d told about it. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he got me like no one else ever had, and he wouldn’t be pushy about it. Or maybe it was because as much as I was afraid to admit it, he was my person, like I was his. That one person I wanted to tell everything to. The person who made me more me.
If only I knew who me really was. I suppose that was why I was sitting in the simply decorated waiting room, painted in calming blues, about ready to crawl out of my skin. After that questionnaire, I was even more afraid to be called back. In fact, I jumped when they called my name. I swore everyone in the waiting room gave me a look like we understand, friend.
I slowly stood and smoothed out my blouse. I’d dressed extra carefully today in slacks and a fitted peasant blouse, so I looked like someone who was well put together. As soon as I was done here and before I opened the studio, I would be getting into some yoga pants and possibly the Christmas sweatshirt I bought with my Thanksgiving one. It said, Naughty but Nice, I’m a Multitasker.
I followed Dr. Morales’s assistant, flexing my fingers as I went and trying to take deep breaths without making it seem like I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I don’t know what I was so afraid of. I already knew I was a mess. But there was something comforting about not having it clinically diagnosed. That way I could pretend I didn’t have issues.
Dr. Morales’s stark white office was off-putting. It reminded me of those solitary confinement rooms on TV shows where they put psychiatric patients. You know, the patients in straitjackets. I scanned the room quickly to see if I could spot any of the restraining devices. All I saw were some large plants and two comfortable chairs, one of which was occupied by Dr. Morales. She stood when I entered. She was a short, welcoming Latina woman with the darkest brown eyes I had ever seen. Like wells filled with wisdom. I could only hope she had some for me.
“You must be Ariana. Welcome.” Dr. Morales held out her hand and greeted me like a colleague instead of a patient. I liked that.
I took her hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” I sort of lied. I wished I was anywhere but here, but I was trying, and she had a comforting air about her.
“You say that now,” she quipped.
My eyes widened.
She laughed. “I’m teasing.”
I laughed nervously along with her.
“Have a seat.” She waved to the chair across from her own. “Feel free to kick off your shoes, if you like, or curl up. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”
Did she know I didn’t like shoes? I didn’t remember writing that down on the questionnaire. If she had ESP, I was out of there.
“You look worried.”
“I am,” I admitted.
“That’s natural. Let’s see what we can do to put you at ease.” She took her seat.
I did kick off my ballet flats, and when I sat down on the poufy white chair, I curled my legs under me.
She smiled at my behavior. “I hate shoes too, but believe me, you don’t want to see my gnarly toes.”
She made me laugh and put me a bit at ease.
“So,” she began, “I looked over your questionnaire, but since you know you best, I want you to tell me why you’re here. And if you don’t mind, I might ask you some questions, even take a few notes. Is that all right?”
I nodded.
“Great. You can begin when you feel comfortable.”
“We could be here a long time then,” I joked, sort of.
“Take your time. I bill by the hour.” She winked.
I liked her. I rubbed my lips together. “Well, I guess I’m here because…” I tried to think of how to put it into words. “You see, I had this super crazy childhood. But I thought I came out unscathed and had life all figured out, and then I didn’t, and I’m afraid of losing the people I love because it seems like I’m never meant to keep them. But there’s this man who I really, really love and I thought we were over because I made sure of it, but now he’s back, and after everything I’ve done to push him away, he still wants me, which makes him the crazy one, but, honestly, I want him too, but that scares me more than anything.” I was pretty sure I sounded nuts after that. I couldn’t even look at Dr. Morales for fear of what she must think of me.
