77 Pressure

The office exuded an air of tranquility and comfort; the room welcomed visitors with its soft, pale blue walls that seemed to emit a soothing aura. A large, carefully chosen landscape painting adorned one wall, depicting a serene, sun-dappled forest scene that invited contemplation. The centerpiece of the room was a plush, inviting sofa upholstered in a calming shade of beige. It was strategically positioned to face a sturdy cherrywood desk where Dr. Amanda sat. A polished wooden bookcase, lined with an array of self-help books, psychology textbooks, and inspirational quotes, stood beside the desk, offering clients the opportunity to browse and reflect.

Overhead, a warm and gentle glow emanated from a frosted glass pendant light, casting soft illumination that created an atmosphere of intimacy and confidentiality. The room's large window was adorned with sheer curtains, allowing just enough natural light to filter in while maintaining a sense of privacy.

On the opposite side of the room, a small table held a selection of herbal teas and a water dispenser, offering a comforting touch for clients in need of a calming beverage during their sessions. A collection of plush throw pillows added a sense of coziness to the space, while a discreet white noise machine hummed softly in the background, providing a sense of auditory privacy.

"You know, I'm not being paid to watch you be quiet, Zephyr," Dr. Amanda stated, pushing her glasses up. "Regardless of how much you're against this, your father will keep booking sessions until I inform him that you no longer need therapy." Dr. Amanda, a striking brunette woman with hazel eyes, stared at the form of Zephyr who was lying down on the sofa.

"You can just lie and tell him that I'm fine," Zephyr argued, not paying her any attention.

"You're an intelligent boy, Zephyr," Dr. Amanda stated. "You know I can't do that."

"Then can't you get this over with?" Zephyr impatiently asked. "I have a lot to do."

"And what do you have to do?" Dr. Amanda asked in return.

"I know what you're trying to do," Zephyr declared, still not turning to look at Dr. Amanda.

"And what am I trying to do?" Dr. Amanda questioned, noting something down in her notebook.

"You're trying to get me to open up by continuously asking questions, thereby lowering my guard and increasing the chances of me answering," Zephyr analyzed.

"You're very cautious and wary," Dr. Amanda observed. "Is there a reason for that?"

"Why would I tell you that?" Zephyr retorted. "We've never talked to each other, never had a single interaction. We don't even know each other at all, so why would I reveal personal information about myself?"

"Isn't that a perfect reason for you to tell me?" Dr. Amanda countered. "We don't know each other, so you can tell me anything, and even if we meet the next day, we'll act like nothing happened."

"I don't want to waste time," Zephyr tried to argue.

"And why don't you want to waste time?" Dr. Amanda interrupted.

Instead of arguing once more, Zephyr took a deep breath. "I'm really busy."

"Busy with what?" Dr. Amanda inquired.

"With everything," Zephyr answered, releasing a tired sigh. "I run a company, and with me opening some subsidiary companies, I've got a lot more work to do. On top of that, I'm in my junior freshman year, so the teachers are giving me a lot of homework, which isn't helping either. On top of that, I've got friends who I need to spend time with and a girlfriend that had a meltdown yesterday."

"So you've got a lot on your plate," Dr. Amanda simplified. "And how does that make you feel?"

"Exhausted," Zephyr answered.

"And have you considered telling anyone how you feel?" Dr. Amanda inquired.

"No," Zephyr shook his head. "Everyone sees me as this reliable guy who's always having fun and messing about, so if I tell someone, they wouldn't be any help."

"What makes you say that?" Dr. Amanda remarked.

"They're the ones who always come to me for help, so how will they help me when I need help?" Zephyr countered.

Dr. Amanda nodded her head and quickly jotted something down on a notepad beside her. "What about your girlfriend?" she asked. "You said she had a breakdown. How does that make you feel?"

"I feel ... frustrated," Zephyr responded, struggling to find the right word.

"Why?" Dr. Amanda requested.

"Alex and I have known each other for at least 4 years, dated for over 2, so seeing her have a breakdown made me feel frustrated at being incapable of helping her," Zephyr explained. "She told me she's booked an appointment with Dr. Gregory Clark, a colleague of yours."

"So you feel responsible for what happened to her?" Dr. Amanda queried.

"Yeah," Zephyr answered after taking a few seconds to think.

"You believe that it's your fault for not being able to help Alex?" Dr. Amanda reiterated.

"Yes," Zephyr nodded his head.

"Interesting," Dr. Amanda muttered, writing something down. Looking at Zephyr, she asked, "What leads you to believe that it's your blame to bear?"

"Before I met her, Alex was a shy, anti-social, introverted person. She had no real interests; she was uncomfortable in social situations, hard to talk to, and everything she did was to maximize her chances of getting into a good college," Zephyr clarified. "Ever since we met, something between us just ... clicked. It's been almost 4 years, and in that time, she's gotten more confident, has more friends, has hobbies, she's more social, and she's still been doing well academically. I'd noticed that she's been getting more stressed with her S.A.Ts coming up, and I've tried to distract her numerous ways, so seeing her suddenly meltdown makes me feel like I'm to blame."

Dr. Amanda sighed, taking her glasses off and setting them down on her desk. "There is not much I can tell you other than that it's not your fault," Dr. Amanda stated. "From what I've heard, you've done a lot to help Alex. You won't be able to be with Alex all the time, so at some point, all the stress and worries that accumulated were bound to trigger. This can't be attributed to you, no matter how much you may believe. In fact, the truth is that being in a long-term relationship, as you have, is like giving someone a loaded gun pointed at your heart and trusting them not to pull the trigger. All these emotions you're feeling are consequences that come with being in love."

[Meanwhile - Two Doors to the Left]

"So, Alex," Dr. Gregory began as he took a seat, "Tell me why you're here?"

Alex took a deep breath. "I had a meltdown last night, and I'm worried I'll have a breakdown again, but this time in the S.A.Ts."

"Why do you think you had a meltdown?" Dr. Gregory inquired.

"I'm stressed," Alex stated as though it was obvious. "I'm in my junior. A part of me feels like the limbic system in my brain's a bit off. That's a thing, right? I did some research overnight."

"You know I charge you the same even if you diagnose yourself?" Dr. Gregory questioned.

"I'm just trying to move this along," Alex defended.

"It sounds like you're stressed and overwhelmed," Dr. Gregory commented. "Why don't you close your eyes and take a deep breath?"

Although a bit confused, Alex agreed and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

"Now, why don't you tell me how you feel?" Dr. Gregory questioned.

"I feel ... like I've let everyone down, especially Zephyr," Alex softly answered.

"And what makes you say that?" Dr. Gregory queried, picking up his notebook to write things down.

"Ever since a young age, I've felt this need to be the best, to win all the time. When I was little, I was put forward in a spelling bee at school, and I really wanted to win. I'm not even sure why. There was no prize, no award, nothing to show for it. My parents didn't even know I was in it, and yet I still felt like I had to win," Alex ranted, "I won, of course. Do you know what the winning word was? Responsibility."

"Is that what you feel?" Dr. Gregory inquired, leaning back on his seat. "A responsibility to win all the time. To always be the best."

"No, not anymore," Alex shook her head. "In middle school, I was quiet, focused on my studies, and getting the best grades in class. In 7th grade, I got put next to this really lazy person. He'd always sleep in lessons, he'd never do the homework, and he'd never bother answering exams. For that whole year, I assumed he was an idiot, even though I never spoke to him, and that I'd do much better than him academically. But then, something changed in 8th grade. At the start of the year, we got paired together for a science project, and I realized that he was really smart; it's just that he couldn't be asked to put in the effort. And then, he started putting in the effort and actually did the exams, always getting 100%. It really frustrated me at first, and I tried to compete with him, but then realized that despite how much work I put in, I'd never be able to catch up with him."

Dr. Gregory nodded, and then asked, "What about Zephyr? You said that you feel like you've let him down. Why is that?"

"Zephyr pays a lot of attention to me. He notices really quickly whenever I'm nervous, tired, anxious, or whatever. He comforts me all the time, and he helps me with my revision. He also distracts me whenever I'm stressed and gets me to relax whenever I overwork myself," Alex ranted, "So when I suddenly had a breakdown yesterday, I felt like I let him down, even though he told me I hadn't."

"He sounds like a really nice lad," Dr. Gregory commented.

"He is," Alex nodded, tightly hugging a pillow, "He's my boyfriend, and I love him."