i felt like my hands were barred down to the arms of the sofa chair, even though i was allowed to move. my nails dug into the hands of the chair, striking the wood underneath. i wanted to rip the thread off his expensive armchair paid for by my expensive hospital bills, but one of my fingernails broke and i found myself wondering why i was afraid of the pain of my fingernail breaking too low when i slit my wrists.

    “hi levi, i’m dr. adams, nice to meet you,” he smiled at me and offered his hand to shake. i awkward reached out and shook his hand, trying to grasp it firmly like i was not terribly lacking in self-confidence.

    “i know who you are. they said i have to come here,” i said, staring at him blankly. i don’t think i was blink...

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