Day 2
He followed the therapist into her office. It was the first time he’d had an appointment with her since their establishment moved. He wasn’t sure what he was going to talk about today, nothing seemed to be wrong at the moment. He was living in a state of euphoria. There was a desk in one corner of the room, and two couches perpendicular to each other in the opposite corner. He sat down on the couch closest to the door. She grabbed a pad off of her desk and sat at the other couch.
Everything was perfect. He had been happy since the Zoloft kicked in. The upped Abilify wasn’t having any adverse affects. All remnants of any psychosis were gone. He was starting new projects. He was writing again. He was drawing again. He was organized, and energetic. This was going to be a short session.
“Are you sleeping?” The phrase was like a trigger for the appointment to begin its slide downhill.
