I was struggling with my mental illness now for 3 years. But the last month was the worst. I could be happy if I fell asleep

before 4am.I hate that. And that's why I decided to start a therapy, I really want to get my shit together.

I was sitting in the waiting room, as exactly at 6 pm the door opened. 'Hello Miss Bell, please come in' said an exorbitant

good looking man. He looked directly at me and I felt like his eyes were digging trough me. As in slow motion I stood up

and walked past him but not without trying to catch his scent. He smelled like an old classy perfume, which made me close

my eyes for a millisecond.

He closed the door behind us and pointed to one of the two leather chairs 'please have a seat' he actually sounds quite

nice. He mumbles a little bit but at the same time he articulates clearly.

I chose the right chair and he took the one on front of me. 'Really impressive office you've got here, I bet each book is

worth reading' he nodded and smiled a bit 'thank you, and yes they are' we didn't say anything for a minute, he was just

staring at me. Was he psychoanalysing me even if I haven't said anything? I guess so. I became a little bit nervous but I

tried to hide it as good as I could.

Finally he started to ask me 'So you told me on the cellphone just basic informations, but to construct a complete diagnosis

I need some more. Age, occupational area, chronic diseases, any psychotropics?' Suddenly I felt awkward to talk about all

that. 'Well,' I slipped back and forth on my chair '20, single, I'm studying neuroscience, no chronicle diseases and I'm

taking antidepressants since 6 month now' he lists everything I said in his black book, closed it and looked at me. 'How do

you feel?' 'At the moment? Tired just tired. It has completely changed the last month. Eight weeks ago I worked all day and

all night without becoming tired, not even a little bit, and now the complete opposite. I feel like I'm drowning.' 'So your

bipolar disease didn't change, even after your last therapist prescribed you your medicine? And I suppose as an budding

neuro scientist you know up there is everything all right' he points to my head and smirked. I couldn't help but smirk back

'of course Dr. Lecter' I replied with an extreme fitted south English accent, 'and no nothing has changed'. He frowned and I

could see him thinking. He looks good while he does that. In his suite, in his office, his attitude, his intelligence, quite

engaging.

My mimic must have change, because he laughs and leans forward. 'How long have you been single?' That was not a

question I expected 'well actually since birth' I laughed 'I just had a few... Well I don't think you can call themrelationships.

So no relationship'

He stood up, walked to the window. Oh yes please his back, Jesus.

He turned around 'maybe we need to change that'.