My Type of Socializing | ✓

Chapter 28

Adam has no idea how terrifying sorting out court documents and dealings would be. He spent most of the hearings just staring out into space, and every court order handed to Archie made him let out a deep sigh and clench his chest. So far, he could rest easy knowing that he now had a restraining order on the man. The rest of his sentencing would come slowly over the months as was explained to Adam by the company's attorney.

Over the next month and a half, Adam looked into taking his mental health seriously. He had booked an appointment with a psychiatrist who had confirmed Assad's guess about his anxiety being triggered by something else—C-PTSD. He had been given medication but had been recommended to see a therapist who could help him unpack some things. He also had to see a dietician, since eating well for a handful of months wasn't enough to reverse years' worth of damage without supervision. The woman had given him a diet plan, and some supplements to help.

Now all that was left was for Adam to start regularly seeing his therapist, which he was going to do today. He stood by the entrance of the small practice, letting the sound of his heart beating flood his ears as he tried to muster up the courage to go in. Assad wasn't here with him since the man had a project to finish, so he had come here all by himself with a cab.

When the late afternoon sun became too harsh to handle, Adam finally made his way past the front door and into the small waiting area. There was no one around aside from him and the woman behind the reception desk.

"Can I help you?" she asked Adam, turning to face him with a small smile as her fake lashes moved with her eyes. "Are you here for an appointment with Dr. Ross?"

Adam stayed quiet for a bit before nodding his head. "Yes," he said, approaching the desk. "Yes, I am."

The lady checked him in and led him to a uniformly white room with black modern furniture.

"He'll be with you in a few minutes," she said, making Adam nod his head as he watched her close the door behind herself.

Adam sat in the room by himself for the next quarter of an hour. He stared at the posture reinforcement stickers on the board on the wall, before casting his eyes at the goldfish swimming in the clear bowl on the center table. He was watching the fish when the door to the room creaked open.

"Hello, sorry for being late," A deep male voice said, making Adam shoot his head up to find a man who looked to be in his fifties approach the seat across from him. The man settled down, taking out a notepad, running a hand through his greying brown hair before adjusting his glasses.

"Adam?" the man asked, peering over at the artist.

"Yes..." Adam muttered as he folded his hands on his lap.

The doctor nodded. "I'm Dr. Ross, it's nice to see you today."

Adam didn't say anything in reply.

"In the file that you sent in, I can see that you have C-PTSD, and from your own words you think it's from a relationship gone bad?" Mr. Ross asked, making Adam nod his head.

"Yeah." The artist nibbled on his lower lip. "I think it was the stretch of the relationship. It gave me a lot of anxiety," Adam muttered, not too sure where he was going with this. Dr. Ross nodded his head, scribbling into his notepad.

"If it's not too much to ask, can you talk about the relationship a bit, and how it made you feel, and what you think went wrong," the man continued, and Adam wanted to melt into his chair. He tasted bile in his mouth and his eyes watered. "It's okay if it's a difficult topic for you..." the doctor said after a while when he looked up at Adam.

"It's okay," Adam said, lacing his fingers together. "I can talk about some of it."

The doctor smiled at Adam, resting his back on his chair. "Go on then, take your time."