Dr. Connie lives in a mega contemporary home that's made of stone and glass and is nestled on the mountainside. Her spectacular house is practically see-through. The massive glass walls offer no privacy but the view and architecture is astonishing.
Angel holds my hand as we walk up the extensive driveway. A pretty red headed woman with emerald eyes and blinding white teeth answers the door. "Hi there. I'm Kim, Dr. Connie's assistant. You must be Eden and Angel please come in." She wears a white fitted blouse and a cranberry colored pencil skirt and nice heels. She looks stylish and professional.
We walk through the door as she holds it open for us.
"I'm glad you found this place easily," she says. "Most people need help getting all the way up here."
"I live in Ravenwood. I know this town well," I say.
"That's right," Kim says. "You do live here. I keep forgetting. Most of our clients aren't from Ravenwood. Any who, I need you to sign in." She guides us toward an open booklet on an impressive white pillar.
I sign my name and appointment time.
"I'm going to take you to her office," Kim says. "But before we get there, can I offer you a refreshment? Water? Coffee? Tea? We have a new espresso machine that I've been dying to try out."
"I'm okay," I say.
"I'll take a water," Angel says.
"Of course," Kim says. "I'll bring it you shortly. Please follow me to Dr. Connie's office."
We're led down a long hallway, passing odd contemporary statues and large paintings on the wall. Kim opens the door to a spacey glass room. The view up here is stunning. Mountain hills, wilderness, and vivid greenery surrounds us.
"Have a seat. Dr. Connie will be with you shortly."
Abel and I sit on the modern black couch. I glance at the framed certificates and achievements on the concrete wall behind her desk.
"Dr. Connie must be really good at her job to have a gorgeous state-of-the-art house like this," I say.
"She has celebrity clients," Angel says. "She knows what she's doing."
Dr. Connie comes in smiling. She's a beautiful middle-aged woman. Her black hair is in a sleek ponytail that falls down her back and the honey-colored dress glows against her lovely chocolate skin.
She comes over to shake our hands. "I'm Dr. Connie. I appreciate you making it in today."
"This seems like the best rout," I say.
She grabs a clipboard and a pen from her desk and sits in the armchair next to the couch we're on. "I'm glad you think so. I'm only here to help." She crosses her elegant legs. "Angel told me a little about what's going on. But I want you to tell me about the difficulties you're going through. What's going on in Eden's world?"
"I believe Ashely Baker wants to ruin my life," I say, getting right to the point. "She's been following me. She's infiltrated into the lives of the people I love, pretending to love them too. But she doesn't. She just wants revenge."
"Why do you believe that?" Dr. Connie says in a non-confrontational way.
"She hates me."
"Has she told you she hates you?"
"No, but I know."
Dr. Connie scribbles something on her clipboard and Kim discreetly comes in to hand Angel a chilled bottle of water.
"Why do you think she hates you?" Dr. Connie asks.
"Because I hurt her," I whisper. "I hurt her badly."
"What did you do to Ashely?" Dr. Connie says without judgment.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Alright," she says, nodding. "Do you feel like there's a plot going on that's trying to harm you?"
I nod. "Ashely's been plotting for years."
"Do you talk to Ashely on a regular bases?"
"No. I haven't seen her in five years. She's only resurfaced because she's pretending to be best friends with my sister and she's pretending to be in love with my ex."
"Has Ashely ever tried to contact you beforehand?"
"No," I say. "I haven't spoken to her or seen her until Halloween night."
Dr. Connie nods. "Have you ever heard things like voices that are not your own in your head?"
I laugh because I know where this is going. "No. There are no voices in my head."
"Have you seen anything strange or odd?" she asks.
"Yes. In fact, the only odd things I notice is Ashely stalking me. She's followed me on several occasions and my family is totally oblivious to it."
"Can you describe one of the occasions?"
"I think she was following me when I went shopping in the town square and she followed me to my mother's house. I felt her presence and I heard her. She's definitely following me. And she wants to hurt me."
"When did this begin?"
"It's been going on for a while."
"She's been acting odd since she had to use self-defense against Evan that resulted in her taking his life. But things started to worsen two weeks ago. She called me and told me she needed help," Angel says. "She told me someone followed her. She lied about where she was going. She told me that she was going to spend time with her sister but she went to the abandoned house her mother was murdered in instead. I told her to call the cops but she didn't. She told me Ashely wants to killer her when I got there. She's also stalking Ashely and John. She broke in their home and hid under their bed. She went to John's workplace without permission. Eden is having delusions and her paranoia is getting out of control."
I don't say anything. I don't acknowledge what Angel says. I look to Dr. Connie.
She stares at me with kind brown eyes. "Do you feel safe, Eden?"
I shake my head. "No."
"Have you recently felt the need to protect yourself?"
"Not particularly," I say. "But I have no problem doing so."
Dr. Connie scribbles more on her clipboard. "Have you felt the need to hurt yourself?"
"I'm not suicidal," I say.
"In the past have you had any problems with your temper?"
I shrug. "Yes. I was arrested before for fighting Ashely. It happened years ago."
"Do you have any problems with your aggression?"
"No."
"Where do you feel safest?"
"At home," I say. "In my own space."
Dr. Connie jolts down something on her clipboard. "I'm going to ask you a couple of questions concerning your general health. Is that okay with you?"
I nod.
"Has there been any changes in your daily routine? Do you sleep more than usual or not as often as you did before?"
"I sleep a lot more than before and I barely have an appetite."
"Outside of the Ashely situation, are you feeling well overall?"
"Yes."
"Are you on any medications?"
"No."
"Do you drink or smoke?"
"I drink occasionally but I don't smoke."
"Are you intoxicated when you have these thoughts about Ashely?"
"No."
Dr. Connie gives me a hopeful smile. "I know things have been overwhelming lately. I'm only here to help you. Eden, your symptoms fit the criteria of brief psychotic disorder."
I frantically shake my head. "No, I'm not crazy."
"Of course you're not crazy," Dr. Connie says gently. "You've been through severe trauma recently. I know that's an intimidating diagnosis, but I don't want it to scare you. After treatment you'll feel a lot better."
"What is brief psychotic disorder?" I ask, trying to calm my shaky hands.
"Brief psychotic disorder is a psychiatric condition characterized by sudden and temporary periods of psychotic behavior, such as delusions, hallucinations, and confusion. Symptoms can last as little as a day or as long as a month, but sometimes it's severe enough to put someone at increased risk of violent behavior or suicide," Dr. Connie says. "Symptoms of brief psychotic disorder are similar to schizophrenia and, in addition to delusions and hallucinations, can include sudden and extreme mood changes, nonsensical or disordered speech, inability to perform normal self-care, social and professional dysfunction, sleep problems, and disorganized or catatonic behavior."
Angel reaches over to grab my hand. I tread my fingers through his. "How can I get treatment?"
"I can start you on an antipsychotic to ease or eliminate the symptoms," Dr. Connie says confidently. "And I can also get you scheduled for psychotherapy sessions."
"Okay," I whisper.
"We're going to get you back on track, Eden," Dr. Connie says. "This will last less than a month and I will gradually wing you off the medication. You're going to make a full recovery."
After Kim schedules me my next appointment, I leave Dr. Connie's house with an antipsychotic prescription in my back pocket.