Faith walked into the building and looked at the wall directory in the hallway. DR ADRIANA SANCHEZ, PSYCHIATRIST. 11TH FLOOR.
Faith was certain that that was the name Dr Ingrid has given her but she fished out the card from her handbag and looked at it again. It was the same name. She was appalled.
"A psychiatrist?!" she said aloud and looked around in frustration. "What is wrong with Dr Ingrid?!"
She turned around and left the building in frustration. There was no way she was going to see a psychiatrist, she was okay, she was mentally fit. When she got to the sidewalk, she halted. If she goes back home without seeing this psychiatrist, Dr Ingrid would find out and that only means one thing. She stamped her feet on the floor in frustration, causing people to stare at her.
She walked back into the building and got on to the elevator to the eleventh floor. She knocked on the door and a female voice asked her to come in. She went into the office and saw a young woman way younger than her behind the desk. She wore little glasses and packed her hair in a neat ponytail, with no make-up, she wasn't beautiful nor ugly, just plain, a pale skin the same as Faith's and thin lips.
The office was almost the same as Faith's office but bigger and less furnished than hers. She has no wallpapers just white paints that gleamed like they were new, a large oak table where her desktop was, a lot of big books and two chairs opposite, facing her. Behind her desk was a floor to ceiling glass that overlooked the city.
"Miss Faith Prescott?" the lady asked with a smile, stood up and stretched out her hand for a shake.
Faith looked surprised at the young woman. Was she serious? Does she think she was the only young person to be completely independent and established?
"What? Didn't Dr Ingrid tell you that I was young?"
"No."
Dr Adriana chuckled. "No, what?"
"No, that's not it, I meant...I meant to say that I didn't think that way."
"It's alright. Please have a seat." Adriana gestured to one of the seats in front of her.
Faith sat down. "Thank you."
Adriana took out a pen and a pad. "I'll like you to address me as Adriana please, no doctor, no last name, no formality. I want you to be as comfortable with me as you would be."
"Thank you," Faith said and cleared her throat. "Well, I don't think I'm here for a psychiatrist."
"What are you here for Faith? I hope you don't mind that I'm being informal."
"Not at all."
"Great, that's how I relate with my clients."
"Uhmm..." Faith leaned closer. "This was all Dr Ingrid's idea. I don't have any problem, I just have a little ulcer that is getting worse because of stress which is probably work-related. I am mentally stable..." She stopped talking when she noticed that the doctor was watching her calmly. "What?"
Adriana shrugged. "Nothing." She scribbled something down on her pad.
Faith stretched her neck to make out what she was writing, but she couldn't see anything. She looked at Adriana. "Are you going to say something or what? I don't think you understand what I'm trying to say. This is job-related stress, you understand? Workers always have stress issues, don't they?"
"What do you do?"
"My job? I'm a therapist, you see. I even help people get over their problems." Faith was already feeling hot and she crossed her legs.
Adriana stared meticulously at her. Faith stared back and was frustrated already. What was going on? Why won't this young doctor understand her? Why was she looking at her like she has mental issues?
"So...don't you, like have questions you wanna ask me?"
"Is there anything you want to tell me then?"
"I already told you. My ulcer is getting worse because of stress. Work-related," Faith added.
Adriana scribbled down again and Faith looked and caught a glimpse of what she wrote. Sighs of hysteria.
Faith chuckled inwardly. Sighs of hysteria? Really?
"Can we talk a little?" Adriana asked.
Faith glared at her. I have been the one doing the talking since I came here! "What do you wanna talk about?"
"Is there anything, in particular, bothering you? Anything you want to talk about?"
Faith was losing her cool. She just told this young lady what her problem was. "No, there is nothing I want to talk about. I know what you are thinking. It is always believed that people's past affects how they feel and behave in future, but believe me, my past or whatever doesn't have anything to do with my future. I'm sane enough, I'm not screwed up."
Dr Adriana repositioned herself on her chair and said nothing. Faith looked around the room.
"Look, I know exactly what I want, I have known what I wanted since I turned fifteen and I have pursued it. I'm not confused, I'm not weird, nothing is bothering me at all, I just have a little stomach problem. I'm not depressed, I have a great job, I have good friends, I don't intend to jump off a story building or jump off a bridge..."
"Can you tell me a little about your parents?" Adriana asked cutting her short.
"My parents?"
"Yes, your parents."
Faith didn't know why the young doctor had to choose that topic out of all the other topics she could choose from. Faith was already getting irritated.
"They are dead," she answered and leaned closer again. "Listen, my parents have nothing to do with this, I assure you of that and they died a long time ago, so they don't have anything to do with my ulcer. I told you I am a therapist right? I read psychology and I'm very stable. People come to me with their problems and I give them advice that helps them. In fact, everyone says I'm the most normal person they have met. "
Adriana smiled. "Faith, if you would just listen and not try to convince me that you are alright. I know you are."
"Huh?"
"Do you have any siblings?"
"What?"
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
"I have a brother."
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know," Faith waved. "Maybe, somewhere in Spain."
"I see." Adriana made more notes. "How old were you when your parents died and when your brother left for Spain?"
"My dad died in my sophomore year in college."
"And your mom?"
"Well...how do you feel if people think you are too young to be a doctor?"
"I am accustomed to it now. Your mom?"
"What?"
"How old were you when your mom died?"
Faith knew that dodging the question wouldn't work, so she repositioned in her chair. "I was just five when she passed away."
"What was the cause of her death?"
"Okay, the truth is that she didn't pass away. She left the house when I was five and I don't know if she is dead or alive."
Adriana stared at her for a while. "Faith, if you want me to help you, you need to be honest with me."
"But I don't need help, " Faith said in exasperation.
"What do you need?"
Faith couldn't answer. She stared at the woman completely oblivious of what to say. Adriana wrote down something on her note again.
"Listen, Faith, whether you are here to get something done about your ulcer or you came here because of stress, trauma or whatever, it is help that you seek. Dr Ingrid knows why she sent you to me."
"I don't think she knows, if not, she would not send me to a psychiatrist, I'm not going mad."
Adriana lowered her gaze. "Can I ask you a question?"
Faith wished she wouldn't. "Go on."
"You are a therapist right?"
Faith nodded.
"If someone pays to have a session with you but comes to start telling you that they are alright and have no problems, will you believe them?"
That was a very difficult question for Faith to answer, she quickly looked around and began to rummage in her purse.
"Answer the question, Faith."
Faith stopped and looked at her. "Fine, I won't."
"That's the exact thing you are doing, you are even making me believe that something is wrong with you. If you are certain you are okay, then allow me to do my work and I will not say otherwise."
Defeated, Faith leaned back on the chair and folded her arms across her chest. "Alright, carry on then."
Adriana smiled. "Let's get back to business. How did you feel about that?"
"What?"
"About your mother leaving."
Faith sat up again. "Well, just like any other person would feel about it, sad at first, even shed tears, but you will get over it eventually."
Adriana didn't say anything but kept staring at her. Faith didn't know where to settle her eyes. She leaned back on the chair, folded her arms across her chest again for a while then she sat up again.
"I'm sorry but I'm not here to be analyzed, sorry if it seems I'm not letting you do your job doctor but I have everything I want, my fiancé that called it quits is coming back and we are working t hings out. Basically, I'm a very happy person and don't need analysis."
"Alright," Adriana said and scribbled down things on her pad.