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going to work later today, ( it isn’t a long shift woohoo !!! )  i know i have a few replies lined up, i’ll get them out when i come home !!

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michael !!

He felt frustrated. If it was one thing he didn’t like, it was uncertainty. He also didn’t want the contrast that was been spoken of. He liked his old lifestyle, far, far more than he liked his current lifestyle of being watched and judged every minute. That same feeling played into his eyes as Michael watched the doctor jot down notes, ones that were indiscernible from where he was sat. Michael hated those files, and not knowing what was written on them. 

“I… I don’t think it’s helping,” Michael tried to boldly announce, then realised his mistake when fear washed right over him. “I… um…” He couldn’t tell Dr. Everson that he didn’t see why his weight was so weird, why his eating habits were so weird. He’d spent only a short time institutionalised compared to some of the other patients, but already Michael knew which phrases would spark lectures that left him feeling horrible. “I don’t… I don’t think the… the issue has… has anything to do with my m-mind.”

     “ you don’t ? okay---- keeping that in mind, michael, what DO you think is the root issue of your eating habits ? ” liam’s POISED, proper & ( somehow ) unwound, all characteristics delicately balanced & presented in a front. he’s normally so clumsy, often LOSES his pens & clipboards, & scribbles the right notes on the wrong lines. but there’s times where he needs to piece the fragments together ; has to PRESENT himself with a quintessence of finality. everything he’s saying is PERCEIVED as certain---- he’s a qualified therapist, he has to be right, he’s being paid ( & expected ) to solve others’ unresolved issues for a living. he’s someone who holds absolutely no JUDGMENT or bias & tells things like they are, all while diffusing situations & lessening the crippling capabilities of most mental illnesses. being a therapist is a TITLE that holds incredible weight, & liam’s aware of it, is always aware as it presses down on his shoulders, KNOTTING muscles & sinew tightly until every movement’s coupled with pain. still, the gratification of helping a patient outweighs the VAST list of negatives, & that’s why he’s here now, sitting opposite michael, putting forth all his effort in remaining as he is ; collected & BEGUILING. “ please, feel free to share whatever is on your mind. it’s a safe space, here, ” he adds on, sensing their hesitation. 

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violet !!

The brunette nodded quickly and her lips curved into a smile. “It feel so good to have someone to talk to. I know we just met but she’s so sweet… I never had friends before.” Violet was so happy to have a new friends. She would be crushed if someone would make her realize that she wasn’t real. “Oh, I’ve never seen you before. What’s your name?”

     “ my name’s liam emerson, though most call me mr. emerson, ” he replies after a PACIFYING inhale, exhaling through his nose. he sees the delusion in the way she acts, how she’s talking about someone nonexistent & INVISIBLE to the world. he’s worried, only wants to help clear her mind. thus, he means it when he offers ; “ if you ever need someone---- aside from your FRIEND ----to talk to, i’m available as well. it’s my job to listen, & to be there for people who need ( or WANT ) it. ”

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when u spend the day watching scream for the first time and u get so into it u forget that time is an actual thing and it’s after midnight and u actually need to sleep ???

i guess the point of this post was to see if anyone else watches the show bc i need someone to scream with about it ( lmao pun not intended )

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clarissa !!

It was all abstract, and the man didn’t seem to understand where she was coming from. Clarissa was intelligent, but she had never really applied herself to anything and had lost passion for everything in her life. The small blonde rolled her eyes at his textbook definition; it was a shame that he had to recite information, instead of being genuine and spontaneous. The woman didn’t believe that she was ill. Granted, she did miss meals and occasionally purge, but she wasn’t underweight, she was nearly overweight, and if she didn’t take that action, she would be deemed as unhealthy. As for the other diagnoses, they were slander, character assassination. “I have been living just fine. I’m successful, I have a beautiful apartment, I have a, had a boyfriend, and I’m successful. Seems pretty beneficial, to me. Who are you to tell me what I need? You don’t know me.” Why was everyone so determined to label her as crazy, she wasn’t and she knew it. Everyone seemed to be working against her all of the time, and she hated it. However, Clarissa never did anything to help herself, and that was damaging.”

     she’s right, every claim holds truth & conviction ; clarissa truly believes there isn’t anything wrong with her & his head hurts from it all. there’s a persistent throbbing behind the bridge of his nose, GROWING, spreading toward his eyes. “ that can be seen as successful & beneficial, yes, but when not taking into account material or physical things---- ” liam’s voice WAVERS as he adjusts himself in his chair, clearing his throat. “ your quality of living isn’t fairing well. your mental state, certain habits you’ve fallen ROUTINE to ; purging, missing meals, clarissa it’s doing more harm than good. ” he reaches for his pen & clipboard, flipping to a blank sheet where he’s expected to jot down anything of importance, whether it’s intended to be remembered or added to clarissa’s file. he SCRAWLS some of what she says, only pausing when intending to break the silence. “ you’re right, i don’t know you, but i’m trying to understand. i want to know you, i want to know you because you’re more than just a patient FILE. you’re a person outside of here, & i want you to be living life to its fullest, you deserve that much. ” liam’s sincere when he says that, & he hopes it shows, breaks through the professional exterior he works so diligently at maintaining. 

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clarissa !!

Clarissa didn’t want to be there, she felt as if there was nothing to discuss and that it would be best for her just to go back to her life. Believing that it was all a set up by her parents to get rid of her, once and for all, the small blonde wasn’t going to be told any different. The woman didn’t have the energy to fight everyone all day, especially the staff members, but she felt as if she had to. In her eyes she was protecting herself by not letting anyone in; she wouldn’t let them convince her that she was crazy. “I could quite easily come up with a mental condition, give it a name, symptoms, and label someone as having it. The fact that one can claim that another isn’t sane, just because they think a different way, is ridiculous, and this country should not allow it.”

     liam knows to not let patients into his head, understands that having his GUARD up is sometimes a good thing but clarissa’s response resonates in his head, reverberates as he mulls over the idea. she’s RIGHT, in a way, & it’s that same reasoning that’s allowed illnesses ( that clearly aren’t such ) to remain illnesses. still, he’s undergone training & countless hours at school to work with mentally ill patients ; he knows that, LOGICALLY, illnesses exist---- they have to. “ mental illnesses are classified as affecting your mood, thinking, & behaviour, ” he recites monotonously from MEMORY. “ you may feel as though you’re doing okay, but you’re acting quite differently from what’s widely considered ‘ HEALTHY. ’ now, you might think it’s ridiculous that what’s healthy is something objective, but in comparison to what you need & your health, the way you’ve been living has been DETRIMENTAL. ” 

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milo !!

Everything about this room felt different compared to his old therapist’s office. Despite the room being the same size, this one felt bright and airy whereas the other office was dark, stuffy and Milo usually found it hard to focus and breathe while he was there. The guy– Mr. Emerson was a breath of fresh air too. For starters, he was young and didn’t look about a hundred years old. Not to mention the friendly aura that surrounded him. Too bad Milo didn’t fall for that shit. But he did he almost feel bad for storming straight into the office while running his mouth and practically throwing a tantrum about his appointment. It was entirely childish and honestly, a little bit ridiculous. He nodded, a light flush making it’s way into his cheeks and his arms uncrossed from his defensive and bratty stance. “Milo James.” He told him quietly, glancing away from his new therapist and looking around the room. “So– I was thinking. The meds I’m on aren’t really doing much to stop my nightmares, so maybe you could switch them up? Or just give me something really strong to knock me out?” He suggested with false enthusiasm. 

     “ milo james, ” liam replicates, surname inhabiting the remaining SPACE between them ; said in a tone that’s effortless & weightless & clement. he holds off on his usual speech, saves his new patient the trouble of sitting through an overly cliché lecture detailing what he’s to expect ; from procedures to set rules & staff. milo’s the FIRST to speak then, mentioning the lack of effect from his medication. he understands, knows how disheartening it is, living through the nightmares while being promised the miracle of medication & its ability to make things better, to take the thoughts AWAY. he’d been there, still is from time to time, & that’s why he connects with milo, the pull toward him is instant & forceful, & he nods with his stare turned to them, empathy etched into his expression. “ of course, we’ll work at getting you something that SUITS you---- that works for you. if you like, you may take a seat. it says i’ve got you here for about an hour or so. ” liam gestures toward the sofa on the opposite side of the coffee table, all positioned within the middle of the room. the sofa’s lined with two matching pillows, & the table holds a vase of flowers ( liam changes the water & maintains the flowers’ health ) as well as a box of tissues. it’s an AVERAGE looking office, but he strives to make it feel different ; warm & inviting. 

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michael !!

Michael hated the uncertainty. Future actions were dependent on his current actions, and as easy as the staff made it sound to be (progress, that was), Michael felt like everything he did was a shot in the dark. He hesitated for a minute, stumbling about in his mind for some words. “But how… I don’t…” Michael had thought he’d had the right words, but apparently that was not so. “I just… I don’t get it…”

     “ that’s okay, you don’t need to understand---- it’s an adjustment, a contrast to how your lifestyle was before. ” liam looks down to his lap, regarding the patient file & pen placed neatly on top. without another word, he takes the pen & jots down singular words, keeping each brief & to the point. he may seem CLUTTERED in his everyday life, but when it comes to evaluating patients, he’s precise & to the point. his composure remains though, altruistic & forbearing & relaxed. “ you’re here because your eating habits are enough for WORRY ; you’re at an unhealthy weight for someone of your height & build. being here should help with whatever it is that’s causing the issue, whatever it is that’s weighing on your mind. ”

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beatrice !!

Beatrice smiled lightly at Liam’s passion for animals. It actually made her feel less bizarre for loving furry creatures aswell. Beatrice leant her lower body on the desk, her hands gripping onto the edge as she had full view on him. Shaking her head she laughed to herself “You probably think I’m a spoilt brat don’t you? –I’m not…I’m just–My dad owns half the hotels in Brooklyn and Queens, so we had the resources…And now I’m telling you my life story and you rally don’t want to hear it.” She blushed a little more, a rosy ting appearing on her cheeks. “It took about a year…I was schooled at different schools and I learnt alot. It was well– a great experience.” She smiled at the memory, before it went all wrong for her. But that was the information, she didn’t want the fellow blonde to know. “Awwh…-” Beatrice said affectionately. She stood up from her lean and walked over to the love seat. “Well I think–if a law arise that we are aloud pet sloths, which I think is totally lawful. You can have Timothy here.” She pointed to the empty seat. “That’s–uh’ the name I gave it..The sloth.” She licked her lips. Enjoying this wacky conversation–she didn’t want to leave and go back to psychiatric medicine for once. She was actually enjoying talking about nonsense. “See, I like tigers. Tigers…are my favourite. Their…slow..and steady…and give no fucks!” She blurted out–maybe it was the nervousness being around him and talking for this long, or maybe she had this new confidence brewing inside of her. “…And even if they aren’t very peaceful. They’re peaceful to watch you know?”

     liam fails at THWARTING the drop of his jaw, agape merely from the statement revealing beatrice’s parents’ wealth. he was never poor during adolescence, his own parents’ income enabled him & his brother a comfortable upbringing, but they were never TREATED with lavish vacations, let alone one spanning the surface area of the globe. “ that’s insane, ” he admits, flabbergasted while turning his phone over in his hands ; giving himself something to do. he’s that type of person, one who FIDGETS aimlessly amidst conversation. he watches her as she moves to sit in the love seat opposite him. confusion flickers across his features though is replaced with understanding as beatrice presses on, mentioning the sloth’s temporary name. “ timothy, ” he reverberates, but it goes UNNOTICED, lost in the frolicsome atmosphere of the room ; swallowing the name whole & spitting out, rather, a blurted remark from the nurse. he isn’t able to steel himself before laughter hits, rolling from him in waves. he doesn’t know much of beatrice’s personality, but the way she’s conversing is telling, that she’s spontaneous & scatterbrained ( or just very nervous, but he hopes it’s the former ). “ they’re quite PEACEFUL. though, after seeing a few documentaries of them & how they attack their prey... i think it’s safe to say i’d never want to be alone in the same room with one---- i wouldn’t make it two minutes. ”

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violet !!

“She is wonderful. I’ve been talking with her for a while now and it’s the first time that someone actually understands how I feel. I have to admit that I never really talked about my feelings before to anyone. She’s not feeling comfortable to tell me why she’s here yet but that’s okay. I understand. Are you working here?”

     “ that’s GREAT then, that she’s helping you feel better. ” liam’s concern only grows, festers in the pit of his stomach until it’s unbearable, clawing its way up into his throat & nearly scratching his tongue raw. “ i work here, YES, ” he manages with a grimace, once again aware of how empty the area surrounding them is---- that there’s only TWO of them, no third person in sight. “ i’m a therapist at winslow. ”

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violet !!

Violet was siting on the ground, her arms wrapped around her legs, having a conversation with, for what other people could see, nobody. But The brunette could clearly see someone sitting infront of her, talking back to her. The girl couldn’t make the difference between reality and what was not anymore. The girl turned around as she heard someone walking in and smiled to the person. “Oh hi! This is Katherina, she’s new here. She’s very sweet, I’m sure you will like her. She got in today actually.”

     he approaches in incertitude, noting that she’s referencing someone nonexistent ; there isn’t anyone else in their immediate PROXIMITY. she’s hallucinating, he thinks, & immediately he’s filled with concern. yet, he follows along with the conversation, afraid of telling her she’s wrong, inevitably provoking aggression. he needs to take things SLOW, to talk things out & tell her---- calmly ----that katherina isn’t real. “ oh ? well i'm sure she’s absolutely wonderful. ” his reply’s accompanied by a smile, tugging at both corners of his lips. “ what’s she in for ? ” he moves to sit adjacent to the brunette, making himself seem SMALLER & more approachable ( as opposed to his natural six foot stature ).

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clarissa !!

Sitting opposite the male, the small blonde crossed her legs, one over the other as she leaned back in the seat. “You know this is all abstract bullshit, right?” Clarissa was sick of hearing about diagnoses, they felt like excuses, and she wanted no part of that. The woman didn’t believe that she was ill; she had been able to become a very successful businesswoman, and had no problem functioning in the outside world. However, it was very different in here.

     liam’s taken aback by her BLUNTNESS, how queer the atmosphere becomes from the singular curse. he’s heard of her case, read through her files, but to see clarissa in person is something he’s only now experiencing for the first time. he knows she’s ( CONSIDERED ) successful, but she’s also very ill & refuses to admit to it. he’s sitting opposite her, his back pulled away from the chair as he rests his elbows on his knees & his chin atop his palms. her file’s attached to a clipboard & currently perched on the end of the coffee table nearest him. he’s yet to write anything ; their session’s only begun & liam’s already aware their time together’s going to be DIFFICULT. “ how so ? ” he shifts, shoulders rolling & his head tilting though still on his palms. 

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ophelia !!

Ophelia didn’t know what to say, but she didn’t want to be in a room full of people for them to judge her story. She had yet to find someone who understood her point of view, they had tried, but she could see the judgement, and worry, in their eyes, and she could never get past that. Love was something that one couldn’t control, and the girl knew that. Pushing herself up from the couch, the girl started to follow the male towards the offices. Throughout their interaction, Ophelia had been looking in to his eyes, looking for some sort of instruction and guidance. “It’s fine.” She smiled warmly towards him. “I don’t mind the mess, if anything, it’s comforting, gives it some personality.” Sitting opposite him, the young brunette continued to smile. “Sorry, I just feel guilty because I’ve disappointed people, and I don’t think I can ever meet their expectations.” He was in prison because of her, and her ‘parents’ didn’t know what to do with her. She was lost and they didn’t know how to help. Ophelia had been rude to them, and it wasn’t fair on them.

     she’s sweet, endearing even, & liam finds it easy to talk WITH her rather than to her ; he genuinely wants her to open up, to explain everything. he needs her to PIECE everything together so that he can help make things less difficult, lift the burden placed on her shoulders. still, she’s carrying herself so strongly, like nothing in the world’s going to bring her down, like whatever she’s mentioning isn’t bothering her---- her voice is airy & harmonious, it’s unbelievable she’s been ADMITTED for any existing illness. but, the words stemming from her lips, rolling from her tongue, are tragic, & when paired with the gentle purr of her voice, they contrast heavily, like liam’s being pinned & pricked with needles, feeling tingles as they grow on the tips of his fingers & eventually RETREAT along the full length of his arms, igniting his entire body. “ you don’t need to feel guilty, ” he instinctively assures, stern & certain. “ whatever it is that’s plaguing you, it isn’t your fault. ” he folds his hands together & the movement feels too formal, like he’s actively trying to remain professional---- he doesn’t KNOW her, she isn’t one of his patients, she doesn’t know his sense of humour or mannerisms ; he can’t be himself yet, they haven’t set boundaries, limits they aren’t to cross. 

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charlotte !!

Charlotte didn’t quite like telling people about her ‘problems’. She felt like no one would like her if they found out, just like her old friends. “I don’t know?” Charlotte  said looking down at her hands which where shaking a bit.

     " you don’t know ? ” he counters with FLEETING disappointment. it’s barely there & he’s unsure if charlotte even catches it---- he’s gotten fairly good at hiding most emotions with patients. they don’t need PITYING tones added to the varying looks most families provide. he remembers once seeing a mother & father saying goodbye to their son, their expressions riddled in pain & sympathy, & their son hated it, had nearly broken from how terrible those looks made him feel. “ well, why not take a stab at it, just TRY ? it says here---- ” he nods toward the clipboard placed in his lap. “ you’ve experienced periods of intense sadness, where you’ve felt hopeless. do you still feel THAT way, charlotte ? ”

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milo !!

Milo wasn’t exactly dreading his bi-weekly appointments with his therapist, but he still found himself practically dragging his feet down the hallways on the way there. He just thought it to be completely pointless and a waste of his time. He’d rather just take the medication or something. Having to talk about the accident made him feel a thousand times worse and he couldn’t be completely sure, but he was almost convinced it triggered his bad days. His old therapist had just left though and he only found out that morning that he’d have someone new. Without knocking first, Milo opened the door and headed straight inside, a small frown sitting on his features. “I don’t want to be an asshole, but the second you start recommending breathing exercises to me, I swear I’m walking straight outta here.” He huffed, flopping down in the armchair and crossing his arms over his chest. 

     liam’s a MORNING person ; has been for the better half of his life. there’s a simplicity to it, the way the world’s still in the process of coming to life & how people remain asleep---- & those who’re awake speak in raspy voices with glossed over stares---- it’s beautiful, like viewing a masterpiece as it’s unfolding, being turned into its finality. unfortunately, he’s at work by the crack of dawn, only able to see the SUN rising through the lone window in his office ; it isn’t much but it’s enough, allows him part of the real world while he readies himself for the day, reading through his patient files & ordering them so he’s aware of who’s who, & which patients he’s seeing in the next eight ( or so ) hours. he’s accustomed to KNOCKS at the door, hesitant hands addressing their presence, but when his new patient---- milo james, he briefly glanced at their file ----appears in the room unexpectedly, liam’s taken by surprise, shock written clear on his face. his brows knit together & his lips curve into a faint frown ; he isn’t ANGRY , nor upset, more so perplexed, unsure of how long the other was even outside his door. he recovers smoothly though, swiveling in his chair, his hands placed calmly in his lap ----they never remain there for long, he commonly talks with his hands. “ HI there, ” he says with a precision smile, surveying milo from his solitary spot, watching as he moves throughout the office. his posture SLACKENS from the initial break in silence ; milo sounds apprehensive but clearly he’s willing to be there, to actually show up & be present. “ alright, i’ll refrain from mentioning them, then, ” liam muses while reaching for the nearest clipboard enclosing milo’s file. it gives him an overview of the patient, key points in his past, though he ignores them, chooses to hear about past experiences from milo---- his patients DESERVE that much, being able to open up about their lives on their own terms. they’re entitled to being treated like human beings as opposed to subjects, people destined to be poked & prodded for information. “ i’d invite you to SIT, but you’ve beaten me to it, ” he continues with a laugh, lighthearted & casual. “ i’m mr. emerson, though i’m sure you’re already aware. & you’re... milo, correct ? ”

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     “ so, why do you think you’re HERE ? ” liam always begins sessions ( with novel patients ) in the same way, posing the same questions in hopes of earning a meaningful response. they vary, of course, but they’re good indicators of the person’s temperament, if they’re willing to open up or remain closed to the world. it’s incredibly TELLING. 

                                                    @charlottexwatson

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beatrice !!

Beatrice noticed certain things about him–the anxious behaviour, the quick skittish language. It was adorable in a way, and only made her a little calmer in her stance. She didn’t want to alarm him–or make him tense in anyway, but being just a nurse–on the hierarchy of the hospital, she was below him. And knowing he was a very good doctor, and talented at what he did–only made her even more nervous to be around him. At his sudden interest, and utter shock, Beatrice was fuelled with this sudden chattiness-despite her stomach internally churning. “Didn’t get a name! Only that he was a male–and one of the oldest there.” She explained–she had, had many adventures as a child-Perks of being a rich kid.  “Yeah! Yes…My family had an all-around world trip when I was twelve…We went to about 40 different countries…and I saw many animals…and one being, a sloth.” She chuckled as she looked down. “Why sloths?” A question that was, infact blurted out. “I–Uh..Just, they’re a very underrated creature. I love them! But I’ve never seen that on a lock screen..only family pets, football teams, girlfriends…” The trail off caused her to look at his face at that point.

     “ he already sounds ADORABLE---- i don’t even know his name, ( or what he looks like ) but he’s the cutest, ” liam murmurs mostly to himself, but it’s loud enough, audible within the room. his office isn’t necessarily spacious ; it fits his desk & computer along with a coffee table & two chairs, one being a love seat & the other a small two seated sofa. he doesn’t hold GROUP therapy sessions. rather, they’re done one on one, allowing for a more intimate experience, liam EQUATES with whomever’s opposite him. hearing about her family, his eyes widen, blues bright under the light spilling through the nearby window, cut off only where the blinds are DRAWN, partly covering the glass pane. “ all around world trip, how long did that even take ? ” his brows furrow as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that beatrice’s family was able to do that, just put their lives on hold & travel when she was so young. “ & well, that’s a GOOD question. ” the flush returns to his cheeks then, though duller this time around. “ i grew up wanting one, i guess. my brother & i used to watch a lot of animal planet---- we saw a documentary on SLOTHS, & from then on my life was just, completely changed. ” he laughs at how ridiculous it sounds, how deep the whole sloth ordeal’s becoming ; it’s downright ridiculous, & yet---- he loves it.