My most sincere gratitude to
LesbianChickLit
, as well for her kind words that have been a great deal of help overcoming my doubts about my writing skills as for having agreed to edit this story.
*****
CHAPTER I
Cloudy Friday. The sky was so dark that it seemed to be mourning and the meager daylight didn't quite reach the window of the small office. Alice looked at the clock on the opposite wall. 4:30 p.m.
She suddenly realized that she had been reading and rereading the same page over and over again for the last thirty minutes without understanding a single sentence. It was quite an important file and already late, but she just couldn't focus. Her mind was hazy and words seemed to evaporate in some foggy unreachable limbo.
That strange uncomfortable feeling of her brain just wanting to shut down wasn't new. The honest truth was that she had been in that same state of mind for quite a few months now. Going to work every day had become increasingly difficult, almost painful. Not that she felt any better at home or anywhere else for that matter. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore and most of the time her only wish was to stay in bed and sleep herself to oblivion.
Alice knew she had let things deteriorate for too long. She had to do something and quickly, before the situation would come out of hand and ruin the promising career everyone predicted for her. Not that her career was a priority at that point but at least she had to do something for herself. She just didn't know what.
That same evening, on her way home after another dull and unproductive day, Alice tried once again to put things into perspective. Maybe it would help her understand the reasons beyond that cumbersome apathy which looked more and more like it had the word depression written all over it. Because, objectively, she couldn't complain. She had been blessed with brain, looks and money.
Okay, so she wasn't Mozart, Cervantes or Einstein but she nonetheless graduated summa cum laude from a well-known university and had received job offers from several prestigious law firms even before graduation.
As for looks, she had been told often enough that she was a Natalie Wood look-alike for her to feel comfortable in her own skin even if, given the choice, she would have preferred to be a little taller than the Judy of "Rebel without a cause". She didn't want at all costs to look like one of these runway models men are drooling over like starved dogs, but it would have been nice not to need a stepladder every time she had to grab something located more than six feet above sea level. But she was model thin which helped her at least appear a little bit more than her tiny five feet one.
And, yes, she had money. Family money. Not the kind that buys you a private jet or a two hundred feet yacht without a second thought, but still enough not to have to worry about the future and not to have to get up every morning to go to work, had she desired to live an idle life free of constraints and responsibilities.
So, what was wrong with her for heaven's sake? Millions of women would have been perfectly satisfied to walk in her shoes. She couldn't say she was miserable to the point of ending her life - no, not anymore - but didn't feel like she could ever be happy again either.
She just felt numb. Empty. Devoid of hope or desire. And so very alone.
"Maybe," she thought, "I should consider the possibility of therapy." She wasn't too fond of the idea of a shrink rummaging through the shambles of her wrecked mind but, after all, what had she got to lose?
**********
The large room looked more like a homely living-room than a doctor's office and was painted in a soothing eggshell tone. Alice found the marine watercolors hanging on the walls to be as elegant as well as relaxing. A large bay window overlooked a well-tended little garden that contributed to create a peaceful atmosphere. When entering the room, she had felt intimidated by the big leather couch where patients, or so she supposed, would usually lie down but the therapist had instead invited her to sit in a comfortable armchair facing her desk.
Dr Alperin was a middle-aged woman - probably somewhere between forty and forty-five, Alice guessed - with an amiable smiling face surrounded by a light brown pixie haircut and a gentle gaze beneath her horn rimmed glasses. She spoke in a very soft voice which helped Alice overcome some of the nervousness that her hands, fidgeting in her lap, were giving away.
"Miss Devreaux, I know quite well how stressful a first meeting with a potential therapist can be but I would like you not to consider this as a session but more as a free-flowing conversation, getting to know each other, and for you to feel safe and accepted here. I believe it is also important for you to be aware of the fact that not all therapists are right for every person. Please use this moment to assess whether or not I would be a good match for your personality. For my part, I'll have to make sure I'll be able to offer you the help and support you're looking for. Whatever the issues you're dealing with are, my job, as a therapist, isn't to give you answers but to help you asking yourself the right questions."
Alice nodded, comforted by Dr. Alperin's calm manner and open imperfection.
"When we spoke on the phone, you told me you were feeling depressed and that you fear your despondency has become insurpassable. We'll see about that in due time. For now just be assured that there is no such thing as an insurmountable depression. But, first things first, may I ask how you came to me? Was I recommended?"