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need_help.txt
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need_help.txt
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I need help. I'm not sure what's going on with me, but it's driving me crazy. After looking through the web, I found a Dr. Michael Szozas, who is a renowned psychiatrist and counselor. Apparently he specializes in unusual cases. I'm not sure if my situation is unusual or not, and I'm not sure how to determine that, so I emailed him anyway.
Dr. Szozas was so nice, and he sounded so smart when he responded. He recommended at least an initial consultation. An appointment was made for Monday at 9am.
I'm nervous when I come up to his office; the entrance is a solid wooden door, and I reach out to knock. Rap rap rap. His voice comes, well-modulated and educated, "Come on in!"
I step into his office, and my eyes cast about; the lights are set to a soothing dim level, his walls are filled with books. I am tempted to read the titles, but I mustn't be rude, oh no. So I look at the man that is sitting behind his desk.
The first thing that strikes me is Dr. Szozas' warm, radiant grin -- with dimples! -- that told me that everything was going to be OK. Then these kind hazel eyes twinkling at me from behind a pair of wire-frame glasses. He rises up, and whoa, he's a tall man with a slender lanky frame that causes me to look up a bit at him. He wears a comfortable looking cardigan, and he has a pair of slacks, ending in some loafers. Dr. Szozas walks towards me, and takes my hand in his -- I immediately notice how large and warm his hand is, his skin soft as it wraps around my fingers, "I'm glad to see you," he says, and he seems to mean it. One could fall in love with someone like him so quickly, with his apparent sincerity and kindness.
"Please, take a seat on the couch, make yourself comfortable. State for the record your full name, and why you're here," he suggests, and he ambles over to sit in a comfortable armchair. His hazel eyes fixate upon me, drinking and studying every detail of me as he waits for my response.
I hesitate, and sit down on the couch, and I respond, "