This is so fun to write, I swear.

Anyway, it had a good response which made me happy :) See that's my lil techno smile!

Suefanficlover - Thank you! Your review was one of the main reasons I continued it, thank you again :) x

its-ok-to-hate-me - Dude All Time Low is fucking fantastic aren't they? I'm glad you can relate, I really am! You should share your writing, I would love to read it ;) It was hard to post, but I shut my eyes and then there it was! And yes I did continue it, I might write another chapter after this - but who knows? Thank you :)

The appointment wasn't that bad, just general stuff. She attempted to ask me questions, but I was quite arrogant in the way I answered them. One or two word answers would just have to suffice. However, I think I knew deep down I wasn't helping myself with not helping her, so I promised myself that over the course of this therapy: each time I would talk more and give her structured answers, I mean, it will help me in the end, won't it?

The room was eerie the first time I went in, and was very...white. It was stripped, and my mind couldn't help but not think that maybe I will be like these walls at the end – emotionally stripped down, just plain and simple. That's how I wanted to be: Understandable.

When I came out of my appointment, Mitchie wasn't there.

I looked forward to my next appointment and I prepared myself for it. I collected my thoughts, and decided I was ready to sort-of communicate with my therapist. Again I found myself sat in the therapist office, waiting for my appointment time. The times always ran over each other, but I didn't mind. I'm unsure whether the reason was because I had my phone full of music to listen to, or that I was waiting for Mitchie to come.

I'm gonna break your little heart, watch you take the fall, laughing all the way to the hospital, 'cause there's nothing surgery can do

I was embarrassingly singing lyrics before Mitchie walked in; she giggled at my terrible, terrible voice and sat across from me. I was still slightly shy towards her. She just wore leggings and a plain white tshirts with a pocket, but she still looked amazing to me. She probably thought I was weird with the whole music thing, but she seemed quite similar to me in a way.

'Hi' she spoke, but I couldn't hear her through my headphones.

I took them out, 'Sorry what?'

'Oh I didn't realise both were in, I said Hi'

'Why Hello to you too' I smiled back.

'So, how long have you been coming to the shrink for?'

I knew it; she had the exact same attitude as me. 'This is actually only my second appointment. How about you? You seem used to her'

'I come here since a year ago; they all know me personally here. I first came because I was forced, but after a while, it felt good to actually have someone listening to me'

'Yeah I know how you feel'

She nodded, but still looked at me.

'Your names Alexandra, right? But I bet you like to be called Alex?' I nodded. 'Same as me, I'm Michelle but my dad calls me that...so I hate it. Call me Mitchie. Maybe we should go out sometime for Coffee, or even for a walk, if you're up to it of course.'

'Yeah I would love that! Is today okay for you? It's just, who knows if I will ever come back here'

'Sure. I'll let Miley know, I'll wait out in here when you come out. My sessions normally end quicker as I have been coming here longer, so she knows what we need to talk about and what not to talk about'

Now I couldn't wait till my appointment is over.

I went in, and was more willing to talk. Although I still kept my wall up, it wasn't as high as it usually was. We had discussed my position in school, and if I was happy and stuff. She thought it was better to start with lighter stuff, then into heavier stuff. But I needed to learn how to trust her first. After school position, we talked about my friend situation. I tried to explain, and she said that would be an area we would do some work in. She listened to me, and sometimes taking notes – but I didn't mind. I said how I felt, and how I saw them in my life. We had only done one more topic before I left, and that was music.

She probably noticed all my bracelets, and asked me my opinion on certain stuff. I told her my interest, and how I was always judged for my tastes. So I kept most bands I liked to myself. She agreed with me, and we even had a heart to heart about My Chemical Romance splitting – of which we were both heartbroken about.

I came out of the room a bit happier, it still didn't feel like anything had changed but it felt like progress. I told her certain things without closing up, or changing the subject. I wasn't smiling wide, but I wasn't frowning. I walked back into the waiting room and met Mitchie. I nodded at her and we both made our way down the building and out. I didn't know the area too well, but she did so we went to a nice little bistro.

I ordered a Hot Chocolate, and she ordered a skinny latte before we sat down. We sat in a booth which was kind of boxed around, to get away from the ones who worked there. There was also another reason.

Mitchie had slight social anxiety, something she didn't realise until she was 17 and was at formal or prom as some call it. She had been a confident person, never nervous or anything. Well, that's what she thought. She thought it was ok to be slightly nervous, even to the point where you feel yourself hallucinating. Now, she was 18 and had gone through a lot of stuff.

As a child, she was bullied. Although she had a loving family, school properly 'fucked her up'. She said the start of high school wasn't any better, but once she hit her third year in – she found it manageable. She was never really close with anyone, but had good enough friends. She liked a different range of musicians, and she had experimented with drugs a little bit. She didn't drink, but from time to time smoke. She was still finding her sexuality out, but was more than sure she was lesbian. But since she wasn't out of the closet, she didn't date anyone.

I found out a lot from her in a short time, and she asked about me.

I explained to her my problem of talking to people, and trouble expressing myself. She said she totally understood, and she said she was proud at how honest I was to my therapist. And that she was only ready by her 10th appointment, so she knew I would do great in my recovery. She told me how she thought I was cute at the start, and said she was sorry.

When I asked her what she was sorry for, she lifted my wrist and pulled off my bracelets. She said she was sorry that no-one was there for me, and that I felt so much pain I had to hurt myself to express it. That meant a lot to me, and I thought it was something that only existed in stupid stories – but I can assure you, it does not.

I felt so comfortable, around someone I had only met 10 minutes ago. When it was time to go, I took her number, hugged her and went on with my day.

I thought of how good my next appointment would be, and how glamorous recovery now seems. I guess, I like Therapy.

Because of her.