My first session was awkward to say the least, partly because of my own expectations of what I thought therapy was going to be like and also because I was distracted my doctor. Her name is Dr. Sophia Montgomery
Dr. M has a corner office and two walls are floor to ceiling windows and while I expect she has an amazing view during the clear summer months, on wet rainy days like this it makes things seem so much more depressing or at least I thought so, but Dr. M had a calm, pleasant disposition as if the beating drops against the window panes didn't bother her at all, as if I was just background noise of her already serene space.
Her office was an extension of her waiting area, rich mahogany wood furniture, overstuffed chairs, but to my surprise no couch. I am very wary of new situations and like to picture myself doing and experiencing whatever new thing I'm about to do and prior to this, I imagined myself lying on a couch with my eyes closed and my ankles crossed extending over the arm rest at the other end listening to soothing music while telling my shrink all about my problems. But there was no couch in this room, I scanned the walls to see if there was another doorway that led to a hidden room with the couch, but all the walls looked solid.
Dr. M grabbed her netbook from her desk and sat in one of the oversized chairs and motioned for me to do the same. I walked to the chair, dropped my bag on the floor and sat down, but my eyes continued to scan the room because I didn't want to make eye contact with Dr M. I felt like once I did, it would mean that this was real, that my session was beginning and I would have to start facing all the things that had tormented me and brought me here in the first place. I think my doctor could sense my unrest because she kept clearing her throat but never said a word. Finally I stopped looking around and turned my attention towards her.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi."
"So, how are we supposed to do this?"
"Well why don't you start by telling my why you're here today," Dr. M spoke loudly and firmly which struck me as odd if only because her overall demeanor didn't give off a commanding presence. She was rather tall, but not imposing. I'm five feet six inches and she was almost a whole head taller than me, so I was guessing she was around five ten or eleven. I always check for heels if I think a woman is tall because it can be so deceiving; Dr. M wore flats. Women are lucky because they can fake lots of things that men can't like their height, their cup size, their nails, even their orgasms.
Anyways, Dr. M was tall and thin and she wore pants with vertical strips which gave off the illusion that she was even taller than she actually was which also reminded me of myself since people also think I'm taller than five six. She had on a silk blouse with lots of ruffles around the neck that made its way down the front of her shirt typically where buttons are which made me wonder if the ruffles were covering the buttons or if it had a more functional purpose. Don't get me wrong, it was a cute top, but I could never pull it off. My mother used to tell me I was lucky because I could wear whatever I wanted and I used to believe her, but it's a shame that I lost some of the confidence that let me do that, let me be uninhibited in my dress - let me make the distinction that uninhibited for my purposes does not mean scantily clad, because that isn't me either. I guess that's another thing I can tell Dr. M, about my loss of confidence, but this first session didn't seem like the right time.
Dr. M has a corner office and two walls are floor to ceiling windows and while I expect she has an amazing view during the clear summer months, on wet rainy days like this it makes things seem so much more depressing or at least I thought so, but Dr. M had a calm, pleasant disposition as if the beating drops against the window panes didn't bother her at all, as if I was just background noise of her already serene space.
Her office was an extension of her waiting area, rich mahogany wood furniture, overstuffed chairs, but to my surprise no couch. I am very wary of new situations and like to picture myself doing and experiencing whatever new thing I'm about to do and prior to this, I imagined myself lying on a couch with my eyes closed and my ankles crossed extending over the arm rest at the other end listening to soothing music while telling my shrink all about my problems. But there was no couch in this room, I scanned the walls to see if there was another doorway that led to a hidden room with the couch, but all the walls looked solid.
Dr. M grabbed her netbook from her desk and sat in one of the oversized chairs and motioned for me to do the same. I walked to the chair, dropped my bag on the floor and sat down, but my eyes continued to scan the room because I didn't want to make eye contact with Dr M. I felt like once I did, it would mean that this was real, that my session was beginning and I would have to start facing all the things that had tormented me and brought me here in the first place. I think my doctor could sense my unrest because she kept clearing her throat but never said a word. Finally I stopped looking around and turned my attention towards her.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi."
"So, how are we supposed to do this?"
"Well why don't you start by telling my why you're here today," Dr. M spoke loudly and firmly which struck me as odd if only because her overall demeanor didn't give off a commanding presence. She was rather tall, but not imposing. I'm five feet six inches and she was almost a whole head taller than me, so I was guessing she was around five ten or eleven. I always check for heels if I think a woman is tall because it can be so deceiving; Dr. M wore flats. Women are lucky because they can fake lots of things that men can't like their height, their cup size, their nails, even their orgasms.
Anyways, Dr. M was tall and thin and she wore pants with vertical strips which gave off the illusion that she was even taller than she actually was which also reminded me of myself since people also think I'm taller than five six. She had on a silk blouse with lots of ruffles around the neck that made its way down the front of her shirt typically where buttons are which made me wonder if the ruffles were covering the buttons or if it had a more functional purpose. Don't get me wrong, it was a cute top, but I could never pull it off. My mother used to tell me I was lucky because I could wear whatever I wanted and I used to believe her, but it's a shame that I lost some of the confidence that let me do that, let me be uninhibited in my dress - let me make the distinction that uninhibited for my purposes does not mean scantily clad, because that isn't me either. I guess that's another thing I can tell Dr. M, about my loss of confidence, but this first session didn't seem like the right time.
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1 comments:
Love this line--"Women are lucky because they can fake a lot of things..."
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