Peter said the stupid counseling appointment would take half an hour. Well, maybe it would have, if she didn’t have to fill out a ridiculously long survey on a tablet before she ever spoke to a person. Some of these questions were...alarming.

Have you ever acted on an urge to kill or torture a small animal such as a cat or puppy? Jesus Christ, no! But the only options were “yes” or “no,” so there was no way to indicate her disgust at even seeing the question. Was that a common enough thing that they had to put it on a survey? God!

As she continued down the questions, Cat found her heart sinking. These thoughts or feelings were so common that they were on a generic survey.

Within the past two weeks, have you ever felt as if you were better off dead, or wish you had never been born?

Questions shifted to things she never thought would apply to her.

Within the past two weeks, have there been times where you were unable to stop yourself from crying?

Within the past two weeks, have you ever felt difficulty catching your breath?

Within the past two weeks, have you felt like you have been feeling or acting like a different person?

Now she ticked off even more boxes, and sat lower and lower in her seat as she did so. Maybe she did belong here. Maybe she should have come a lot sooner. The receptionist in the beige and blue room didn’t even blink when Cat returned the tablet, just murmured, “Someone will be wish you shortly; please take a seat.”

So Cat sat back into the blue sofa, her hands tucked under her legs as she looked around. There were pamphlets for everything. Depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, alcohol abuse--even one about being drugged. These pamphlets littered the walls with motivational posters, one of which had a cute, sideways-looking owl on it that said, “Sometimes your best isn’t much, but it’s enough.” She found herself reading it over and over again, even though she had it memorized after looking at it for a few seconds. She wanted to remember each little uncolored flower in the background, the drawn feathers on the wing that gestured to the words. It was just a poster that was hung directly across from her in this empty, cold room--but it captured her attention until the door on the other side of the room opened.

“Catherine?” called a smooth, feminie voice. Cat jerked at the sound, and found a woman in regular slacks and a black blouse calling for her with a soft smile. Cat scrambled off of the couch with her book bag and rushed to the woman, although there weren’t any other patients interested in eight AM appointments on a Friday, and no one could stare at her or judge her.

But the thought of this, in and of itself, was enough to make her move quickly.

“Please make yourself comfortable here. My name is Naomi and I will be conducting your intake. This is just so I can gather some information from you so we can see if any services we offer here match what you need.” Cat followed her into a door immediately at the beginning of the hallway and sat down in a plush armchair across from an oversized mahogany desk. The room was a little dimmer than out there, with a trickling water fountain in the shape of a few falling rocks in the corner. She supposed it would be relaxing if she wasn’t so nervous.

“You mean if I need a psychiatrist?” Cat asked, her voice wavering. Naomi lowered herself to her chair and regarded her.

“That’s up to you, actually. You may not want a psychiatrist, if you aren’t interested in medication. You may just want to see a counselor for a single session, and that also works out fine. Or maybe our services won’t fit with you and I can make some recommendations for other places in the area that might be able to help you.” Naomi was so gentle in her explanation, that it was difficult not to feel at ease even as she reached for a pen and a clipboard with some papers on it. Cat scratched her arm.

“You’re already less pushy than my friends,” she joked, offering a wry smile. Naomi blinked at her without uncapping her pen.

“Your friends are pushy?”

“Well, one more than others….” Was Peter her friend? Naomi moved quietly as she began to fill out paperwork, and Cat decided to clarify. “He’s been pushing me to come here since...last year.”

Naomi didn’t look up, but smiled politely. “Sounds like a good friend, like he cares a lot for you.”

“N--” Cat couldn’t even fully protest. Her heart jumped to her throat and stopped any sound from coming out further. How could she even begin to unpack that? Someone that didn’t care didn’t work as hard as Peter did to make sure she was okay.

“Catherine,” Naomi said, stealing her attention, “I want to thank you for filling out that questionnaire before. I know it’s long and usually quite irrelevant, but it will make this process go by quickly. Do you mind if I ask a few more specific questions?” What? Right, the whole reason she was here. Not because Peter wanted her to be, specifically, but…. Cat nodded. “Great. So I see in your answers, you indicated that one or more specific events within the past six months may have been a trigger for a lot of what you are experiencing. Can you tell me more about that?”

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Now her breath left her completely, and her fingers went numb, and the fountain suddenly sounded a lot louder than before. How had it seemed to escape her until this moment that she would have to recount what happened? Possibly multiple times, to multiple people?

“I--I don’t want to,” Cat stammered instead. Her eyes felt so hot, she blinked too much. Naomi didn’t react if she noticed.

“That’s alright,” she said instead as she continued scribbling. “You don’t have to go through that with me. I know that sometimes explaining a situation could make us feel like we’re going through it all again. You don’t have to do that if you aren’t in a place where that sort of thing can help you.” And although her words were immensely comforting, a tear still made its way down Cat’s cheek. She rushed to get rid of it, but Naomi kept her gaze to her papers.

“I thought that’s what this was,” she admitted. “I thought I just...talked until I felt better. Isn’t that what therapy is?” Now Naomi smiled and looked up.

“Is that what you would like it to be?” The question threw Cat off-guard.

“I guess I don’t know what to expect.”

“This part is a little less talking-on-a-recliner and more discovering what you think might help you heal.” All of this was so gentle. The fountain’s trickling water faded away again, and the room seemed to let her breathe just a bit more. What was she so afraid of?

“What if--what if it turns out that….” The sound of Naomi’s pen against the paper in front of her was the only reminder Cat had to keep speaking. “What if there’s nothing that...can fix me?” What if I can’t be fixed? What if I’m just like this now?

“You don’t look broken to me.” Naomi didn’t look up as she said this. “But if you want to understand yourself better, or if you’re looking for some mental balance, then I think this is something we can help you achieve through our counseling services, if that’s something you’re up for trying.

“Now Catherine, just a few more questions before we wrap this up and try to make a plan. Okay? Now, should you choose to see a provider here on campus, do you have a preference for gender? No? Alright. And would you like your spirituality or religion to be a factor? And how about your sexuality? Okay. Now let’s go through this together, so you can check to make sure I’ve got everything down correctly, and we can go from there.” Well, maybe this wasn’t so bad. She didn’t even have to explain what brought her here, really. That wasn’t so bad. It left her heart feeling tender, but not ripped open for a stranger to see.

Naomi regarded her paperwork and started by reciting Cat’s birth information, her student number, and other administrative things.

“Good so far? Alright. So the patient, you, Cat, are here today with recommendations from peers who have noticed a change in your behavior, though you have come here of your own accord. You are feeling symptoms of depression and anxiety strongly related to an event that happened last year, when these symptoms emerged. These symptoms have affected your personal life, work life, and schoolwork, and manifest in ways such as sweating, shaking, trouble breathing, anxiety attacks, irritability, feelings of guilt, emotional outbursts, sleeping too much, lack of focus, lack of motivation, trouble concentrating, lack of desire to do previously pleasurable hobbies, feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, distancing from others…. I think that’s all you checked as far as symptoms. Anything else?” Good lord, what symptoms didn’t she have? Cat shook her head, grimacing.

“That’s it, that’s all me,” she muttered.

The intake specialist let out a short laugh. “I guarantee that isn’t the case. But hopefully we can arrange something here that might mitigate those symptoms, help you move on with your life.” Although she was still a little choked up from earlier, Cat smiled a little.

“I’d like that.”

“Great. Give me some time to look over these and speak with my team. We’ll give you a call in a few days’ time to schedule your first appointment, and if everything looks in order when you arrive, we’ll just sign some consent forms and whatnot. These will give us permission to work with you on your chosen topics, and there’s an extra bit where you can consent for us to give your case work to a grad student for them to study therapy techniques. You don’t have to sign that one.” Cat nodded as she rose from the seat in time with Naomi.

“Oh, is that how this is free?” Cat asked, shaking Naomi’s hand. “Because of the grad program?”

“The Associated Student Body also made a valid case a few years ago for counseling to be included as part of your tuition. The power of petitions.” They exchanged smiles and pleasantries, before Cat bid her farewell and walked back out to the waiting room.

When she saw the clock across the way, it showed she’d been here for closer to an hour, rather than the half hour that was promised her. Good, ol’ bait and switch. She wanted to roll her eyes, but instead she looked over to the cushion she sat in before Naomi came to get her.

Who else would it be?

“You said that’d take half an hour,” she said, capturing Peter’s attention. He looked up from his phone, jumping at her suddenness. “You’re a liar.” After taking a full moment to realize who was speaking to him, Peter managed a crooked smile.

“Are you going to do it?” he asked as she started her leave. “Are you going to come back?” There was a slight smugness in his voice; if it weren’t for that, she wouldn’t have been able to suppress her smile.

“I think so.” As she passed him, she hesitated. “But not because of anything you said.” He laughed, so she continued. “Because of what Georgia said.” Peter let out a small “mmm,” clearly pleased with himself.

“She’s great, right?”

Cat shrugged. “If she’s so great, I don’t get why she hangs around you.” Ah, finally. A slight insult. Her daily quota had been met.

Peter snorted. ”You hang around me.” Oh. Not a great one.

“That’s--” Quick, something witty! “Because I’m an idiot.” Ugh. She wasn’t supposed to say what she was thinking, but she got so caught up in the moment….

Peter laughed so hard, he had to throw his head back, and she shrunk into herself as she inched to the door. “You said it!”

“...shut up.” She’d have to try again later.