THERE ARE NO THERAPISTS IN FICTION. WELCOME TO HYPOCRISY.

T.Mor:

Er...Ok...Uhm. "Uhm...It's been alright, I guess...uhm, my sister and I didn't...yell...so... and...er...work wasn't... well, but that was, uh...yesterday...sort of... I think... I don't know when work was over...but...I wasn't... I mean...It didn't er... It wasn't as bad as usual..." I tried to explain. I didn't know what counted as a 'day'..because my last shift was 36 hours, and I got home really early this morning...so...but I didn't know if that still counted as today or yesterday, which was hard to think about, except for the fact that working those shifts...the all night ones...made it impossible to actually fall asleep...which was something I normally tried for...

Dr.Mencha:

"So then in your opinion, what is going on behind the 'masquerade'? If I may intrude with yet another question beyond your bargaining strategy." Ok, both disorders were still up in the air at this point. However...he was definitely having issues with reality. "And, if the masquerade is keeping people from hitting pedestrains like a bad gran tourisimo knock off- I honestly don't see how that could be an inherently bad thing."

I wrote more stuff down, annotating my chart.

Dr Doe
...Surprisingly, I understood every word of that. I think I spend too much time at work "What is your sister like?" I asked, curious. Then I scribbled a few more notes down

Adrian
"I don't know, and I really don't care" I sighed, feeling this conversation slip into the trivial, as they all do "It's all... some... mask. To hide human nature, habui nature, dreamweaver nature, werewolf nature- whatever. But it doesn't matter" I was getting pretty irritated at this point

T.Mor:

My sister...Oh. "erm...she's..uh, younger...and erm...She's kind of...I mean... She won't let me sell my house..." No, wait... "Erm...my parents house...I mean..." That's what she called it. Even though I was paying...even though...I was the one that was doing all the dirty work...I mean...It was so...frustrating.

Dr.Mencha:

"wel, if the masquerade doesn't matter, and the things behind the masquerade don't matter, then what does?" If he started spouting angry nihilism at me...I'd probably have to check off the depression box.

That mood swing had been a bit..unexpected, as well, and I wondered if this could be an indicator of bipolarmania, or simply a schizoid personality. Not that one was normally better than the other. scribbled in the margin a bit on my notepad at that thought.

Dr Doe
"Really, why not?" I asked, jotting down a note about his sister. Hm. Maybe I should talk to her, a bit later.

Adrian
"Getting revenge. I *told* you that earlier" I sighed again, gritting my teeth. What was I doing, wasting my time here?! I had more important things to be doing than to be answering questions!

T.Mor:

"If we sell the house...well, we have a nice house... good...er.. best...er...In a part of town that isn't...on fire...a lot...this week...and It was...well, I put it out when...er...my parents..." My voice kind of went away, "died... and...like..we sold everything else...but the house..is...special...to her... But- moving would be cheaper...and...It's..." The only thing we ever talk about...

Dr.Mencha:

"I would like to get this straight, like..stick straight. Revenge is something that matters on a cosmic level to you? I apologise for the redundancy. Really I do. I just, don't want to misdiagnose you like a lot of the silly people in your files. Otside of killing for revenge...what are your thoughts on the subject?" I was really just popping out the questions as they came to me, and knocking stuff off as it occured to me.

Name: Ezra Cox
Age: 16
Previous chat experiences: There's a lot...
How are they typically?: Guilt-ridden, sarcastic, has a desire to be good....
How have they been?: Uh, still guilt ridden
How long have they been like that?: A long time
Probable trigger of behavioural issues?: His past and family
Symptoms?: Feels like he's a monster, cries himself to sleep at night, and visits the boy he's made go insane...after that he locks himself in his room...
Any medications or previous diagnoses?: No.

Name: Tommy O'Sullivan
Age: 10...really 115
Previous chat experiences: Um...Day Care, VT, Chat Box, Chatting Charries, Cox, it's mostly the chat box.
How are they typically?: Happy-go-lucky, acts care free, but really has guilt about Andrew's death
How have they been?: Well he got all upset after Dorian crushed part of his soul...
How long have they been like that?: Well...105 years for feeling guilty about Andrew's death
Probable trigger of behavioural issues?: Andrew and he got into a fight before he died, and he wished Andrew was dead.
Symptoms?: Uh well...besides the guilt, he's normally okay
Any medications or previous diagnoses?: No.

Dr Doe
His sister. In all my years of being a therapist, she had to be /one/ of the most annoying patient's relatives ever... which was most definitely saying something. "Have you tried to be assertive?" I suggested. From what I've seen of his sister, it may not help, but growing a backbone would be a good idea for him in general.

Adrian
"Hm... what subject? Killing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow "Are you accusing me of being a murderer, doctor?"

T.Mor:

Assertive...That... that was like yelling right? "er...Sometimes we both yell...but....erm... I dunno really..." I said, looking at my knees. We did sometimes both yell...and then someone would throw something... normally Ana...and... Yeah...

Dr.Mencha:

"I would never accuse you of anything. However, the subject came up, so I though it would be good to get your opinion on the matter. You wouldn't have a doubt in your mind about whether I was accusing you or not if I were actually accusing you of anything." I stated. Although...If he was a murderer...which, seemed at the very least...not impossible, then... I kind of had my work cut out for me didn't I?

I had time. All the time in the world really. Nice thing about having a fanatical devotion to your job.

Dr Doe:
"Being assertive doesnt nessisarily include yelling. In fact, it tends to be more effective if it doesnt. It's simply about expressing your opinion or want, and having more force about it.". I explained

Adrian
I chuckled slightly, though it didnt have any particular emotion behind it. Not bitterness, or humor, just... a tiny laugh. But it was what happened in my eyes when I did it that tended to be... unnerving, I guess. I didnt answer, though, and I let the silence speak for itself. Silence always knew what to say.

T.Mor:

"...Oh...uhm...Ok..." More force? ...Right...uhm... I wasn't entirely sure what that meant...I didn't want to like... hurt...Ana... uhm...

I brought my knees closer to my chest.

Dr.Mencha:

He let the silence drag on with a chuckle. Well. If he was going to play Hannibal Lecter with me... "What is funny?" I asked, betraying no shock or anything at his facial expression.

Dr Doe
"Not violent force" I assured him, figuring that's one of the things he was worried about. "Simply force behind your words. Not yelling, just...force"

Adrian
"Just this situation. Can I go now?" I stood up, putting my hands into my pockets.

T.Mor:

I was really confused. "What does...I mean...how...er...?" I asked... Well... that was... articulate.

Dr.Mencha:

"Can you go now? I think not...we still have another forty five minutes of session, and I mean... my prices aren't exactly cheap. You certainly saw that? Wouldn't it be worth your time and money to at least finish up this session?" I asked. "And besides. I thought you wanted a more accurate diagnosis. How am I suppoused to get one of those if you leave halfway through the session?" Although, inability to finish things... could be a symptom...Would have to check the book later though. I noted it on my clipboard.

Dr Doe
I tried to think of it in terms he would understand "Without all the pauses, and a little more certainty"

Adrian
My face totally blank, I picked up the nearest object and threw it against a wall, then got back on the couch "Fine, I guess you're right"

T.Mor:

"...and... How... Would...I mean..er... It's... I... uhm." I didn't know exactly what I was trying to say even. Like... If I was this bad at talking to her... then I was even worse at talking to my sister...and... I mean... It was just...uhm.

Dr.Mencha:

I watched him throw a vase. Good thing I got that one from Volde-mart. I could replace it. "So. You seem to have some anger management problems as evidenced by the chucking of my vase. Care to extrapolate on those? Were they always present or another result of the untimely deaths of your family?" Ooh. That...that might have been a bit blunt. Ah well.

Dr Doe
I was quiet except for the quiet scribbling of my pen against notepad, waiting to see if he was going to form a more coherent statement, or if we should just move on to another approach.

Adrian
My plan was going well until she... pulled... that up... really, it was inevitable that she was /going/ to at some point, but... I just wasn't expecting that...all of the sudden... now... I was getting better at managing with the flashbacks, but...my face showed a total blank, lack of emotions, nothing.

T.Mor:

Uhm. I didn't really know how to go on from there. I mean... Yeah...Uhm. I opened my mouth to try to say something more...but that kind of epic failled... uhm.

Dr.Mencha:

He went blank on me. Fantastic. I knew I had been too blunt with that. Perhaps PTSD? I wondered to myself...if this was some kind of flashback...then, definitely... However the revenge aspect was.... somewhat atypical of the diagnosis... prehaps PTSD layered with something else? Hm. "Adrian? Are you having some kind of episode? And if so, could you elaborate on what kind?" I asked...knowing full well that if he were having some kind of episode that he wouldn't hear me or answer.

Dr Doe
"Hm... would you like to talk about your job, T.Mor?" I asked, more of a concerned friend sound to my voice, than a therapist one.

Adrian is still just kinda sitting there, by the way, so can't really post for him without detailing flashback, and... meh... you're read his story, flashbacks are redundant in this setting.

T.Mor:

I bit my lip for a moment and pulled my knees tighter. I kind of wanted to just sit here in silence at that question... but she had asked and sounded so... nice...so I couldn't really...like...say no, but... I didn't like to talk about it.

" ...I ...don't like... my job..." I muttered. As if that made up for anything. I still did my job... I mean... I was still a horrible person... but...

Dr. Mencha:

I took his silence to mean: "yes. I am having an episode, please hold or something for a minute while unspeakable horrors are replayed before my very eyes."

That wouldn't be a very therapisty thing to do... just sit there and wait...So, I went over calmly and sat on the couch next to him. "The reality that you are currently dealing with is not the reality that is true...so...er...don't worry...uhm... " I was actually very bad at being comforting and bringing people out of flashback modes. "Concentrate on the absurdly logical and overly analytical voice...That is the reality you should be focusing on... It's alright... none of that is...er...real at this very moment in timespace..." I tried to employ the strategies I had learned at that PTSD seminar, but...I'm not a very touchy-feely kind of person...so...er.

Dr Doe
"Do you mind telling me why not? Would that be okay? If you're uncomfortable about it, just let me know, we don't have to talk about it" Though it was hard to tell when he was legitimately feeling uncomfortable, or just being... him...

Adrian
It took me a couple of more minutes, but once I wrenched myself out of the memory, got my bearings as to where I was, and remembered what was going on, I stood up immediately "I think I should go now" I said irritatedly "Unless you want to keep 'helping' like /that/"

T.Mor:

I looked at her for a minute. If I was uncomfortable. Like it mattered if I was uncomfortable. I mean... erm. I was always uncomfortable about my job. I mean...I was... am...erm...

"It's...er...I uhm... I'm a bad person..." I informed her from behind my knees. I probably should have said 'murderer'...but... I mean... admitting that... would probably just make things worse somehow... so... yeah.

Dr.Mencha:

I knew I had been too blunt. Far too blunt. "That was completely unintentional. I do apologise. I did not realise until just then that you may have been under some degree of post traumatic stress. Now I know. That will not happen again. Believe me." Although... getting him to walk me through the event would technically be beneficial to his mental health in the long run, but... I didn't want to alarm him.

Dr Doe
"You don't seem like a bad person to me. Marley's said some very nice things about you. What do you think makes you bad?" More notes on the notepad (insert therapying stuff here)

Adrian
"You're right. It won't" I muttered, slipping out the door and through the waiting room, my eyes glued to the ground.

Marley
Yaaay therapy. Wait, no, that's not right... erm... I had my feet propped up on a table while I looked at the pictures in some magazine. I was on my third cup of lemonade, even though it was the cruddy lower sugar stuff. Ug.

T.Mor:

...Sure...Sure I don't...seem bad... But I mean... that doesn't really stop someone from being a monster... I mean... Mr.Face is the most polite person I know...but... look at him... I mean...uhm.

"...I... I... kill people...uhm... That... that's... uhm... that... is... my job..." I managed to somehow get out of my mouth. I felt horrible. I mean... I'm a murderer. It's not... I'm not... I'm a monster...

Dr.Mencha:

Well. That was abrupt. Not entirely unexpected after that...fiasco with the flashback and whatnot, but...still. I looked at my pile of files, ignoring the internal rhyme I'd just made, and read off the next name on the stack. Marley Aldric. Interesting. I took a supplementary glance through the file while calling up my secretary. "Next please." I said simply into the phone, while blatantly ignoring that one too.

The secretary:

"Dr.Mencha will see you now. Just through that door." I told the girl who had gone through more packets of lemonade than I thought we owned.

Dr Doe
That is a pretty compelling argument... but I don't think anybody is truly evil, not completely. Let alone T.Mor. I doubted he had an actual evulz bone in his body "However, you don't enjoy it, correct?"

Marley:
"YES. FINALLY" I jumped up, grabbing another glass of lemonade, and flashing a peace sign at the other people waiting "See you later guys, this has been great. Keep it real!" Then I ran into the office "Let's get this thing started"

T.Mor:

Everyone always came back to this...and it frustrated me kind of...I mean... gah. "...right..." I muttered in agreement. I hated my job...I hated my job...so much...

Some days I just wanted to...

No... Not going to think about those kinds of things. No. Not now.

Dr.Mencha:

Well...she was enthusiastic. "So. What brings you here today, Marley?" I asked calmly from behind my desk. She didn't seem to be...insane....but...who could tell without some testing?

Dr Doe
"Here's a little secret, T.Mor: You're not evil until you like it, alright? Out of everybody I've treated, that's the rule of thumb. You're not a monster."

Marley
"Um.. lemonade and therapy?" I asked, sitting down on a really comfy looking chair. I like chairs. "So.. is this where I start saying weird stuff?"