Chapter 7 Nicole

• Few hours before.
• I settled down on the comfortable chair opposite Dr Vic's table, facing him directly. I apologized again for the misunderstanding about his gender.
• “Let's get started.” Dr Vic brought out a file with my name written boldly on it. I could see it clearly from where I sat. He opened the file and glance through it for a minute or two.
• “Nicole Jackwood?” He asked. Is voice was a reminder that I've started a journey and there was no going back now.
• “Yes. That's me” I nodded simultaneously as I replied him.
• “Born on the second of December, 1994. Making you 30 years of age. The only child of your parents. Married with no kids.” Dr Vic read out all these information from the file. If I didn't remember filling a form before meeting him, I would have mistook him for a stalker.
• “That's too much information.” I tried to lighten up the atmosphere but it was not working. I won't say I was panicking but I was definitely feeling uneasy.
• “It is also stated here that you have anxiety disorder and minor depression” I nodded my head along in agreement as I hear him read the problem out.
• “If that's the title for what I was feeling, yes” I agreed to the claims.
• “When did all these start? Or when did you notice them?” He dropped the file on his table, giving me his full attention. The way his eyes held mine was like he was trying to read through me. I looked away because keeping eye contact with this hot doctor won't let me think.
• Did I just call him hot? I should be thinking about my problem and how to get better. I was not allowed to admire my doctor. That will be unprofessional.
• “A month ago. I'm not sure of the exact time but I could not hold it anymore around last month” I gabbled. I hope this man won't see me as weird.
• “Have you been to a therapist before now? Dr Vic asked me as he scribble something on the paper in my file.
• “No, this is my first time seeing a therapist“ I answered frankly. Before now, I never considered seeing a therapist because the idea of sharing my problem with someone else was strange to me.
• “Why are you seeing a therapist now?” Dr Vic eyes were searching mine.
• “I couldn't cope anymore. I tried my best to tolerate it for a long time, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. I endured everything quietly, not to bother anyone” I state out the obvious to Dr Vic. Thinking about it now, it was not obvious because I've kept my suffering to all to myself.
• I look at Dr as his gaze was fixed on met. Not to look weird or stupid, I maintained the gaze. I hope he understands me and most importantly, I hope he would be of help.
• “What is the primary source of your anxiety, Mrs Nicole?” Another question, this one met me unprepared. The primary source of my anxiety? I remain quiet for a minute or more, thinking about the right answer to this question. The primary source of my anxiety wasn't Nicholas. Giving it much thought, Nicholas was the list of my problem. That doesn't mean he wasn't part of my problem.
• Maybe I should go back to the very beginning of my problem. As a female child and only child of my late father, I had worked really hard to impress him. I studied harder than others, I got the best grades, graduated with the best result. Everything was to let my father acknowledge him. To make him see me as someone important and valuable.
• I didn't want him to see me as an ordinary girl child. Frequently, I've heard him lament about having no son. Having no son to inherit his name and company. This made me pressure myself because I wanted to do more for him. Thinking about it now, getting accepted by my father was the primary source of my anxiety.
• “I think pleasing my late father was the primary source of my anxiety. Desperately seeking accepted by him was one of my greatest challenge”
• Fighting back tears that threatened to drop from my eyes, I watched Dr Vic jot down some things on a paper. I could not control myself anymore, I let the tears flow down. Maybe crying will ease the burden in my chest.
• “Here” Dr Vic offered me a paper handkerchief.
• “Thank you” I murmured as I wipe away my tear careful, not to ruin my makeup.
• “Can you tell me more about that?” He asked politely as he watched me wipe my tears.
• “My father was a traditional man. He was one of the few with the belief that a male child is better than a female child.” I paused, preparing myself for what I was about to say next.
• “This made me work extra hard, I worked harder than my peers. After everything I had done, he didn't even add me to his will. That's if he made one before he passed on” I sniffed.
• “How can you describe the relationship you had with your father? Dr Vic's question hit me like a cold wave. Aside from his discrimination, I loved my father. I just wished he reciprocated the feeling.
• “I'm not sure” I replied. “i think things would have been different if he saw me the way I saw myself”
• I think that was the problem: My father, my uncle, now Nicholas, each one of them didn't see what I wanted them to see in me. How can I get accepted by them if they didn't see me worthy of esteem?
• “Did you see yourself worthy of esteem?” my subconscious asked me. The fact is I had lived almost all my life to get approved by my father. I don't even know what I think of myself. That was the cause of my anxiety.
• “Who are you, Nicole? Who do you think you are? Not what others think about you?” Dr Vic's question brought me back to reality. This time, I don't have the answer to that question. This question is beyond me, because I know what my father called me, I know what my uncle called me but I don't know what to call myself.
• “You don't have to answer the question now. Go home, give it a good thought, then you'd find the best answer before your next session.” He encourage me. He didn't over pressurize me. He was calm during the session, allowing me get lost in my thoughts.
• “Thank you for your time. Talking to you was the best idea” I appreciated him. I stood up from the armchair, extended my hand towards Dr Vic for a hand shake. He mirrored my actions, took my small hand in his.
• “See you next week, Mrs Nicole” with that, I grabbed my purse and walked out of his office. The moment I closed the door of his office, I released a long breath, it felt like I wasn't breathing until now. Definitely, this is a breath of new beginning for me.