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"Amelia Simspon." I hear the nurse, announce, finally, after good, forty minutes of waiting, I stand up from the couch, walking past the nurse, not even bothering to thank her. Lately I find myself, not talking to a lot of people, except from my mom and dad, and now, I've to go to this therapist, because my mom, thinks she might help me with my problems. And I don't have any problems. Meaning I do not need help.
I enter the room, and look around, in shock. This is not what you except to see in the clinic, not at all. This room is elegant, plain, but attractive. I look right at the doctor, seeing, a young, beautiful, woman, smiling, nicely at me, while sitting in her dark red leather chair. She points to the chair, and I sit down, right across from her, crossing my legs, making myself comfortable. "You're very welcome here, Amelia."She starts and I nod my head. "What brings you here, to me?" she asks, and I shrug. "My mom, thinks I'm depressed, and she sent me here, to get help." I reply, answering her question. "Do you think you're depressed?" she asks, me while opening her notebook, on a new blank page, while twirling her pen, between her fingers. I shrug my shoulders. "I'm sad." I reply, and she nods her head, quickly, writing it down.
"Is there a reason why you're sad?" she asks, me, looking right at me, I look at her, taking in her features. "There's always a reason, to everything." I reply, avoiding the real question. "Tell me yours." She asks, nicely, and I nod my head. "It all started when I got played. I was young, and thought it was love. Also trusted, people blindly, and it got me into trouble. And he, well, he just wanted to have fun. Playing with a quiet girl, because simply he knew she wouldn't tell anyone, literally because she doesn't have anyone." I state, and she nods her head, encouraging me to go on. "I took it pretty hard, when I found out. That was my breaking point." I state, and keep on going. "Then there's my dad. He and mom, divorced, year ago, just basically, month after my Birthday, I was always a daddy's girl, and when he left, me, with mom, I broke down again. And since then, my mom thinks I'm depressed." I explain, staring at her hands, moving on the page, looking at how quickly, she's taking every thing I say down.
"Did you ever, hurt yourself on purpose?" She asks, me serious, and I smile. "I used to starve myself. I didn't realize I was starving myself, until, I lost a pretty huge amount of weight. I guess, I wasn't trying, to starve myself, I just had this feeling, as if I had enough food in me." I reply, explaining every single detail. "What about cutting?" she asks, me and I shake my head. "That's pretty weird, since, girls, like you who are depressed, usually, pick, cutting over starving. " she replies, writing again. "I don't know, why I'm not cutting. Guess, its my fear of blood." I reply, and she smiles. "Did you ever thought about ending your life?" she asks, me another question, and I nod my head. "How?" she asks ,me taking the pen again.
"Jumping off the high building, hanging, burning, just, about every possible, way, to day." I reply, and she nods, again, sighing a bit. "Do you think yourself, that you're depressed?" "I don't know, I just feel sad." I reply, and she smiles. "What do you think about yourself?" she asks, me, and I sigh. "I don't like, thinking about myself. I believe, that if you're pretty and skinny, you'll have everything. And that perfectly, explains why I've absolutely, nothing." I reply, and she nods her head. "Well, I think you're beautiful, Amelia." She says, smiling, and I smile back. "Says, the woman, who probably has every single, man drooling over her, at least in this building." I reply, and she laughs.
"Now, Amelia, do you want to change your life?" she asks me, all serious, and I nod my head. "I do." I reply, and she smiles, widely. "That's a perfect start."
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