One look at Dr. McNally sitting in his Manhattan leather armchair and I knew this was going to hurt. I’ve seen many psychiatrists and psychologists and none of them possessed the ability to handle my situation. But my research told me Dr. McNally was different. A glance around the office told me he was a well-seasoned professional. And his eyes told me he was determined to get to the bottom of my case.
Ten minutes into my appointment and Dr. McNally asked me who he was speaking with. I couldn’t believe he caught my switch to Bobby. Bobby is about 20, quiet and frightened most of the time. He still has a victim spirit about him. Bobby was seated on a lovely turquoise Alder & Tweed couch and had pulled his knees up to his chin. He thought it was too dark in the room, but he loved the Wyland painting on the wall across from him. I noticed it was an original. There are navy blue walls; large mahogany bookshelves lined with books and objects like a psychometry skull and a large brass hourglass; and there was a warmly glowing Tiffany lamp just next to Bobby in the corner. The stained glass was suffused with dragon flies and cattail reeds.
Bobby didn’t like dragon flies and was startled at the deep soft voice of McNally repeating more loudly, “Who am I speaking with right now?”
Excerpt from a book I’m writing called, 21 Pieces: One Woman’s Fight to Reconcile Her Multiple Personalities with Her Spiritual Beliefs.