“Now close your eyes,” she says to me as I sit there with my legs stretched out under the table. I crossed my arms on my chest at first, but then I remember about the body language thing. My gesture now, might suggesting her that I am not opening up to her. So I move my arms to my sides and let them rest there. I close my eyes as I was told. My mind begins to take over. Did I tell her everything? Have I missed something? Not that I am afraid that I didn’t tell everything as it is, but I need help and it would be nice if I could get over it as soon as possible. And to get that help I believe that I need to tell her everything.

She listened to my words with extra care when I was telling her why I am her. Or at least that what she wants me to believe. Nothing is sure for me in this psychological matter. I begin to doubt every little thing. She might just pretending to be my ally to earn my trust so I could open up to her. Either way it is, I have to tell everything so I could get her help. It was my choice to tell her everything. I need her help and she needs my trust. So it’s about give and take relationship here. I wish the world understands that.

“Try not to think about anything else and concentrate on your breathing.” Again, I do what she said. “Try to release yourself from your thought. On each breath you take, it will make you fall deeper into a relaxation state,” she pauses there as if letting me to catch up with her words.

Continue reading “The Session – part two –” →

Something is very wrong with me. I am depressed without knowing the reason. I am not sure about the things happening inside me so that I decided to go to a shrink to figure out what is wrong with me. I told no other soul about this matter. Not my parents, not even my girlfriend knows about it.

The place is an hour trip from my home. I took a day off from my work, excused myself by telling them a lie that I am having a fever today. Not totally a lie since mental illness is a sickness too. Still, I feel a bit guilty that I didn’t tell the truth, especially to my girlfriend that thinks I am working today. I have to tell her later.

I don’t get in right away when I’m arrived. I take a cigarette and light it outside the gate to calm myself. I am fifteen minutes earlier anyway. The place or I should say the house where my psychiatrist works is a normal house that you could find anywhere. Nothing fancy. Nothing special about it. No sign or something alike to distinguished it from the rest. No one would think that inside, it treats sick people like me. Full of secrecy like what people been telling me about such place.

“They will keep everything for themselves as professional helpers. What you talked inside the room is your privacy and they would keep it that way. It’s their policy.” My friend told me once about her experience. “Everything you said, stayed in the room without any possible way escaping it,” she also added, “my psychiatrist never told my parents that I went there when I had an abortion. They are trained to keep your information classified.”

Continue reading “The Session – part one –” →