"Welcome back Stephanie, please, have a seat," Andrea, the psychologist, asked as she continued to review Stephanie's notes. "You're looking much more like your old self today. I take it the techniques I shared to keep you grounded in reality are helping?"
"Stephanie" briefly cocked her head, but then remembered that as bad as things were now, getting committed to a psych ward would be even worse. "Yes, yes, I'm feeling much better and the techniques are helping a ton."
"You know, I just want to commend you for how far you've come," Andrea began, setting her clipboard aside for a moment. "A young woman, recovering addict, in a very psychologically difficult line of work...it's not surprise you had a breakdown. The level of your delusion, however, was astonishing. And now, to see you here just a few weeks later, done up, dressing like your old self...it's a far cry from the sweats-clad, disheveled version of you I first saw who was claiming to be a man whose body was stolen."
"Well, thank you," Stephanie replied through gritted teeth, playing along. "Like you said, I just hit rock bottom and panicked. You've set me back...on my path...and I've...set the 'delusions' aside..." she struggled to keep up the lie, but seemed to have pulled it off.
"Now, how are we in terms of finding legitimate employment? Getting you off the streets will help both your mental condition and your addiction issues," Andrea asked.
"I started a hostess job at a nice restaurant just the other day," Stephanie replied. It felt so degrading to say...the former masculine, big shot, high-priced lawyer reduced to a minimum wage job dressing up and seating customers...but wasn't nearly as degrading as the fact that she was still meeting up with a few of the top clients from her other job because the money was much better...
(Bzzt Bzzt)
"Sorry..." Stephanie reached into her clutch and turned her phone from vibrate to silent. As she did, she noticed it was one of her regulars.
"You aren't still meeting with people from your...former line of work, are you? I believe that would be disruptive to your recovery..." Andrea asked in a scolding tone.
Stephanie brushed her hair back and sighed. "No no, of course not. It was someone from that...support group...you sent me. I'll be meeting with them for lunch after this appointment."
"Have you spoken to your family? Made amends? I believe they can be a very strong source of support in this process," Andrew asked, flipping through her notes.
"No, not yet, one step at a time, like you said in the first appointment..." Stephanie answered. She had no idea who "her" family even was to contact.
After another 40 minutes of this sort of questioning, Stephanie was relieved to be done. She only had three more court-required sessions...she just had to suck it up and get through...
As she walked out of Andrea's office, Stephanie pulled out her phone and responded to client, agreeing to meet up. As she went to step onto the elevator, one of her heels caught the track of the door and she nearly fell, just managing to catch herself. She sighed...
"Tarting" herself up like this, working as a prostitute, working an even lower paying "legitimate"job...all of the money, education, and connections of her past life gone...all because of a body hopper stealing her old life...
