Sterling
I walked into Dr. Dixon's office and sat down in my usual spot. I've been coming to my regular appointments for the last few weeks. In that time, Dr. Dixon has basically asked questions that allow him to get to know me and my thought process.
"How are you doing today Sterling?" Dr. Dixon asked from the chair he sat in across from me.
"I'm fine." I shrugged nonchalantly. "Things are about the same as they always are."
He nodded in response. "I wanted to discuss a few things with you today, if you're up for it."
"Okay." I raised a brow. "Go ahead."
"The first time we meant I had you fill out a questionnaire. Upon doing so we ruled out the odds of you having bipolar disorder." He continued on. "Now that I've gotten to know you a little more I feel confident that I know why your thought process is the way that it is."
I shifted on the couch as my eyes focused on him, he has my full attention here. "Well, what do you think then?"
Nerves began to set in as I prepared myself to hear his answer. I worry that it may be something worse than bipolar. For all I know my mind could be struggling in a different way that I'm not prepared to handle.
"I think it's all because of those first years of your life." Dr. Dixon answered. "Specifically the ones at the orphanage."
My brows furrowed together. "But those first six years weren't exactly bad. I was treated well there."
"But you knew that growing up there wasn't normal, correct?" He questioned me.
"Yeah."
"What I believe—correct me if I'm wrong here—you had a number of other children you were around." He explained. "When around that amount of children there's bound to be some disagreements and when you have an item that's yours you need to be a little more protective of it. Right?"
"Right."
"Everyone has a sense of flight or fight." Dr. Dixon set his clipboard down and laced his fingers together in his lap. "After hearing about how you've dealt with things in the past and now, I believe at some point your fight was triggered, you felt you needed to protect everything no matter what."
"I could see that." I agreed with him.
I remember several times that I felt like I had to fight for things in the orphanage. Even out of the orphanage I was stuck in the habit.
"After you parted ways with this Isabelle when you turned eighteen, it sounds like you had given up. You went from fight to just flight."
I nodded as I took in his words.
When Isabelle and I had the first falling out, I felt myself give up. I didn't care about anything for a while. It's what made me such an easy fucking target for Elise and why she got away with things for so long.
"I think when Isabelle returned to your life, so did your fight." Dr. Dixon watched me as he kept going. "The issue comes down to the fact that your fight leads you to getting defensive. Not because you feel like you need to hide things, but because you feel like you need to protect people and need to handle things on your own because as a child you felt that it needed to be that way."
My eyes dropped to the ground as I processed it all. He's absolutely right. When I was younger I would get defensive and triggered into handling things the same way. There were even times my seven year old self was willing to take on my dad just because he said something to Kaydence that I didn't like.
"I think you're just stuck in old habits." Dr. Dixon's voice caused me to look up. "On top of that, you do have a short temper."
"So what do I do about it?" I asked him.
I don't want the way I handle things to be my downfall. If I'm stuck in this fight pattern then it's bound to get worse. Eventually it'll be hard to control and I'll just be a hazard to myself and those around me.
Dr. Dixon picked back up his clipboard. "It's all about changing those habits."
Dr. Dixon and I continued to talk back and forth, discussing all of the ways I could eventually break my mindset. It's going to take a lot of work, but it's not impossible to get my mind back onto the fight or flight mindset.
"I'll see you next week?" Dr. Dixon asked as he walked me out of the office.
"Of course." I responded. "I'll have my assistant finalize the time."
I exited the building and headed for the car waiting for me. I climbed into the backseat and Ronnie began to head back to Tipton Enterprises. As he made the drive, I pulled out my phone and checked my messages.
Damon: I'm in my office, meet me when you get back.
He must be coming in to make sure I'm not fucking up the company. He's been doing this from time to time while he's been on leave for the baby. He's been coming in a little more lately which I sense means he'll be returning very soon.
Sterling: On my way.
Ronnie continued to drive until we reached Tipton Enterprises, then he pulled the car over and I got out. I headed into the building and went into the elevator. It took a few seconds before it reached the top floor and I got out, heading right to my father's office.
When I entered, he was standing by one of the windows. He turned around once he heard my footsteps. He looked serious, which now has me on guard. I could feel in my gut that this is not a regular check in.