DRAMA WITH A TWIST
The 11:30 Appointment
With a psychiatrist
Jeremy fidgeted nervously in the plush leather chair, his eyes darting around the psychiatrist’s office. “I, uh, I’ve been dealing with something for a long time,” he began, his voice trembling.
The psychiatrist, Dr. Emerson, leaned forward, her brow creased with concern. “Go on, Jeremy. Whatever it is, you can trust me. I’m here to help.”
Jeremy took a deep breath. “Well, the thing is…I have this other identity. His name is Alex, and he’s completely different from me.”
Dr. Emerson nodded thoughtfully. “I see. And how long have you been aware of this other identity?”
“Since college, I think,” Jeremy replied, his gaze fixed on his hands. Alex is…well, he’s everything I’m not. He’s confident, charming, and a go-getter. He would just… take over sometimes, without any warning. He’d make decisions, and say things, that I would later regret. It’s like I’m two different people living in the same body.”
The psychiatrist jotted down a few notes. “That must be very challenging to manage. Have you ever sought help for this before?”
Jeremy shook his head. “No, I’ve been too afraid. I guess I thought if people found out about Alex, they’d think I’m crazy.”
Dr. Emerson offered a sympathetic smile. “I understand your concern, but you’ve taken an important first step by coming here today. Dissociative identity disorder is a complex condition, but it is treatable. With the right therapy and support, we can help you integrate these two identities and regain control of your life.”
Jeremy’s eyes widened with hope. “Really? You think you can help me?”
“Absolutely,” the psychiatrist assured him. “It won’t be easy, but I’m confident that with your courage and commitment, we can work through this challenge. Are you ready to take the next step?”
Jeremy nodded, a newfound determination in his expression. “Yes, I’m ready. Thank you, doctor.”
After the session, Jeremy stepped out into the lobby, his mind racing. He took a seat and began to calm down. He quietly stared straight ahead for a few minutes, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses. He slid them on, the lenses obscuring his eyes, and briskly walked to the receptionist’s desk.
“Excuse me,” he said in a confident, steady voice. “I have an appointment at 11:30.”
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