The next day I was supposed to have an appointment with my psychiatrist, but I lay in bed before the appointment having a vivid fantasy about her.
In the fantasy, I walked through the snow the last few feet to my psychiatrist’s office at The Mental Health Center and checked in, and soon the nurse called me back.
“Raven Michaels,” the nurse said. She was new.
“It’s Rave,” I said with a nod, and walked past her down the hall to room 2A. Inside was the usual doctor’s office equipment: a scale, a padded seat, and a counter of objects such as a thermometer and blood pressure cuff. I was weighed, blood pressure taken, and then sat fidgeting.
I didn’t have long to wait. My heart pounded as the door to the room opened.
“Rave,” Dr. Lee said with a smile.
I fought to control my own facial expr
