Joined: 31 Mar 2008
Obsessive-compulsive disorder. She said it every day. Every single day, The same words
came out of her mouth. Does she enjoy making me feel like im crazy? Does she enjoy making
me feel like i cant breathe? I hate everything about her. The name of her occupation,
psychiatrist. psych put in an O and youve got psycho. Im not crazy, I dont have this
Obsessive whatever disorder. Im normal for gods sake, I am normal. Its just when she
walked in this afternoon, everything about her wasnt right. Like how the corner of her
shirt wasnt tucked in, or how half of her ponytail was curled up in a different direction
than the other half. Her glasses were on crooked, and the paint on her fingernails was
slightly chipped. Now i have to sit here for two hours and look at her with all
these...imperfections. Why did my parents send me here anyway? Did they actually think
sending me here to this lady would help? I think not.
"How was your day Isabelle?" She said adjusting the vase on her desk. It was crooked, I
fixed it before she came in, and now it was crooked. I leaned over and fixed it. Better,
much better. She raised one eyebrow. I smiled. Why did she have to look at me like that? I
hated it, absolutely hated it.
"My day was fine.The usual.School.Homework.This place" I waved my hand around the office.
"So do you feel like talking today?" Stupid question Why would i want to talk to you your
not my friend.
"Do i ever?" I said biting my lip.
"Sometimes you do,Sometimes you dont.I guess it depends."
Minutes passed by without me realizing it. I couldnt help but stare at the lamp in the
corner of the office. The lamp shade was crooked. It seemed like everything in this damned
office was either crooked or out of place. I tried not to look at the the lamp with its
crooked burgandy and green paisley lampshade. It truly was an ugly thing. She told me that
her great-grandmother gave it to her. a story i really didnt care to hear, but she told it
"Is there anything wrong with the lamp?" she asked breaking the silence.
"Nothing really. Its very pretty. An antique? The lampshade is crooked though."
I made my way over to the corner. After about a minute the lampshade was straight, and i
"There. Thats better." I said smiling in her direction.
"Could you exsplain to me why you do that? Fix things. I mean i know why you do it, but do
Not this question again. I dont know why i do it. If i dont it feels like my throat is
closing up, my stomach starts to turn. It makes me feel sick to not have things perfect.
" I dont have to do anything, Dr.Chassidy." I said with a certain acidity to my voice.
"Okay. Well if you dont want to talk today, you can leave."
I got up swiftly and slung my backpack over my shoulder. I smiled in her direction and
walked out of her office. I tried to run as fast as possible, so i could get out. I tried
not to notice how the floor tiles were cracked, or how one of the doors in the hallway was
slightly off of its hinges. I tried not to notice the sound my shoes made on the floor.
The weird Squeak. I made it outside without having some sort of panic attack. Too bad i
had to come back tomorrow. And the next day, and the next.