Instead, she just shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Thank you, though.” She sat down in one of the plush armchairs and pulled her e-reader out of her purse, although thinking she could concentrate on a book right now was ludicrous. Her fingers itched for a pen and paper so she could make a list. She balled her hands into fists to resist the temptation. Control, she could do this.
Sweat rolled down her back as she looked around the reception area again. She was the only one here, so why did she feel like she had a great big neon sign over her head which said, ‘Crazy Lady Sitting Here’ with an arrow pointed down at her?
When finally the door to the doctor’s office opened, she jumped in surprise. A friendly-looking, middle-aged man stood there in a nicely cut suit. He had glasses, stood about six foot tall, and was balding. She’d estimate his age to be around fifty-five. He smiled as he strode to her and reached out his hand. “Ms. Hyatt?”
She nodded and shook his hand.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Eckert. Why don’t you come on in? Did Valerie offer you something to drink?”
“Yes, but I’m fine right now.” They entered his office.
“Okay. Good, then let’s get started.” He sat down behind his desk and pulled out a notepad.
Julie glanced around the office. Like the reception area, it had a peaceful feel, but here the effect was created with soft green wall color and a plethora of live plants throughout the room. There were two upholstered arm chairs and a couch for her to choose from. She picked one of the chairs and was surprised by how extremely comfortable it was when she sat down. She glanced back at it and said, “This would be a perfect reading chair.”
Dr. Eckert smiled and nodded. “It is. I use it often for reading novels when I don’t have any patients in the office, but don’t tell my secretary. She thinks I’m working on my paperwork during those hours.” He covered his mouth, but she could still see his lips twitching with amusement.
Suddenly Julie felt more at ease.
“Your sister told me a little bit about your background, but I’d like to hear it from you. What do you see as your main issue? Why are you here to see me today?”
Julie took a deep breath and then began. “Rachel tells me I have OCD.”
“Do you disagree with that?”
“No.” Julie shook her head. “I make lists. I have to make lists.”
“What happens if you don’t make your lists?”
“Then I lose control of the situation and I can’t allow that to happen. My lists help me keep control.”
He hummed while watching her. “I see. Do you know how long you’ve done this?”
Her stomach seized up and she balled her fists so that her fingernails pressed into her palms. “It started when I was eleven. I was always really organized as a kid, but the overwhelming need to make the lists began then.”
“Was there a significant event that happened in your life then to start this?”
“Yes,” Julie swallowed against the lump in her throat, “I was attacked.”
“Okay, your sister mentioned that. She was there, too, right?”
“Yes, it was her boyfriend who attacked me.”
“So, why do you think you started making lists then?”
“I was young and trying to deal with this awful assault while also trying to hide it from my parents. I was only able to do all that with my lists to keep track of all the lies and details.”
“Did it work? Did they ever find out about the attack?”
“Not that I know of. We’ve always managed to keep it hidden.”
He wrote for a moment in his notebook. “Does that bother you?”
Julie thought for a moment. She’d never really considered the lie to her parents. In her life, it just was a fact that this awful thing happened and they couldn’t know about it. She shook her head. “No, I don’t think it does. That lie has been a part of my life for so long; I can’t imagine telling them about it now. And what would that do besides make them feel guilty for not realizing it happened at the time? No, I don’t think it does bother me.” She watched him write for a moment. “Shouldn’t it bother me though? Lying is bad.”
“Julie, I’m not here to judge you. You did what you had to do to survive then. You were very young and dealing with an incredibly traumatic