130 — Eun Ha – Psychiatrist Log #1

Eun Ha's POV:

Psychiatrist Log #1

Patient: Jong Eun Ha

Session 1 – XX/XX/2025

Dr. Han Ji Yoon (private practice, Seoul)

...

Eun Ha stood outside the glass door for seven full minutes.

Seven.

She counted them on the face of her watch because if she didn't count something she would turn around and run. The building was too clean, too quiet. A place for things that are wrong. And wrong things weren't normal, which meant they were dirty. And there was nowhere that was less okay to think dirty thoughts about your underage son than inside a mental health center.

A place this spotless had no room for the kind of dirt living inside her head. If the walls knew why she was really here, they'd probably bleach themselves twice.

After making her decision, she finally pressed the intercom, hand visibly shaking.

The glass swung open silently and without any apparent mechanics. Like magic, Eun Ha mused, unsure whether that was a good thing or a bad omen. She ducked in under a shimmer of potted ivy.

She walked along a softly lit hall to a desk, a pink orchid sitting on a wooden slab. Behind the desk, a woman in a beige silk blouse asked for her name.

"Jong Eun Ha."

The woman offered a small, easy smile and typed a name into a screen that faced away from Eun Ha. "Very good." The woman said. "This is your first time with us, yes?" There was a look of gentle confirmation in her eyes, as if she already knew the answer.

Eun Ha managed a nod.

"I'll need you to fill out a couple of things for our doctor before you go in." The woman continued, sliding a slim clipboard across the counter.

Eun Ha's breath snagged when she caught sight of the first page.

Patient Intake Form.

"There's no rush." The receptionist said, still warmly and politely. "Just basic information, and then a consent form. When you're ready, you can have a seat anywhere."

Eun Ha accepted the clipboard, a pen clutched tight in the other hand. She thanked the receptionist and did her best to look like someone who felt absolutely normal and was not considering the possibility that everyone would know what she was thinking and feeling from just the set of her shoulders.

Booking an appointment was easy, but actually being here wasn't. She didn't know what it was about doctors and hospitals that made her always think about running away. Maybe the white coats, the smell of sterility that made her think of illness. Maybe that false kindness, all too eager and forced and a little condescending. Whatever the reason, she was an adult now and the thought was even more unsettling.

The longer she let this fester inside of her, the worse she knew it'd get. If you have a cavity, you go to a dentist. You get an x-ray, and they numb your tooth, and drill away the rotten bit. In theory, getting therapy for one's sick and perverse mental thoughts seemed to be the same sort of thing, didn't it?

"......"

"Thank you." Eun Ha said, trying to sound as in control as possible.

"Of course." The receptionist gave another one of those serene smiles. "And Miss Jong? If you need anything, just let me know."

Eun Ha nodded again, retreating toward the chairs. She lowered herself into one, the cushion giving way softly, almost sympathetically. Eun Ha worked through the forms quickly, clicking the ball point of the pen until her signature stood out in black ink.

Once the papers were signed, she returned to the reception area and held them out for the same woman. The receptionist gave them a single, swift skim before laying the forms on her desk.

Eun Ha gave back the pen she'd borrowed. "The doctor should be with you shortly. Why don't you make yourself comfortable while you wait, and I will let you know when she's ready?"

"Sure." Eun Ha said, stiff.

She gave a perfunctory smile to the secretary as she passed before taking up residence by the window that overlooked the busy street. Only one other chair was taken—an old man reading Forbes, probably pretending he wasn't here for his third wife's mood swings. Or who knows what else. She doubted everyone here was dealing with the same shit she was, which made it all the more mortifying.

Eun Ha chose the seat farthest from him and stared at the aquarium. The fish swam in slow, stupid circles. Lucky creatures. No thoughts. No shame.

Her phone buzzed in her bag. A message from her husband:

Don't wait up. Late meeting.

She almost laughed. Late meeting meant some twenty-nine-year-old secretary bent over a hotel desk in Yeouido. She had stopped crying about it long ago. Funny how betrayal can turn into relief when your own secrets are worse.

Minutes ticked by.

Forcing herself not to look back at the receptionist, not wanting the woman to see the terror that was clear on her face. Eun Ha continued pretending to study the small watercolor landscapes. But she wasn't really looking at the paintings. She was lost somewhere within her own mind.

It happened all too often, lately.

'Why are you here, mom?'

An all too familiar and haunting voice nudged her ears.

Eun Ha winced. Not again…

'I'm trying. I swear I am. I'll be better. Just please...'

Give me time!

She thought in despair, covering her face with both hands and inhaling a shuddering sigh.

A beat of silence, then.

'You know it won't work...I'll always find a way in, I'll always be the first and last thing you ever think about...'

'Please go away. Leave me alone.' Eun Ha begged.

'Never~'

And of course, her pleas were ignored.

The same thing that kept drawing her back, a terrible and wonderful monster that slowly ensnared her in a thick black net...her son—Jae-il...

His purple eyes were observing her from the corner of her mind, softly, gently, eagerly waiting the moment she'd be back in front of that door.

The echo of his laughter gradually faded.

"......"

Soon enough, the click of approaching heels dragged her from the pit of her internal self-flagellation.

She opened her eyes just a sliver, in the hopes of not garnering unwanted attention from others around her. She watched a petite woman approach in a grey pantsuit, smiling politely.

"Miss Jong Eun Ha?" She inquired.

"Yes."

"Perfect." The woman stepped forward, offering her a bow. "Dr. Han. So good to finally meet you."

Eun Ha blinked. This was it. She swallowed and bowed in greeting as well.

Dr. Han Ji Yoon was younger than she expected. Maybe thirty-eight. Dark hair in a low knot, no makeup except a little tint on the lips. Simple beige sweater, black slacks.

"Dr. Han..."

"Please." She waved her hand. "Call me Ji Yoon."

"Oh..."

The doctor smiled warmly and gestured her to follow. Eun Ha did, nearly forgetting her purse tucked at her feet.

"Here you are." Dr. Han opened a door to a consulting room. Eun Ha swallowed past her nerves and stepped through the doorway, instinctively glancing at a closed blind beside the door, noticing the line of daylight between its lower slats.

The office was small, warm. One sofa, one armchair, a low table with a box of tissues already waiting like it knew. Eun Ha hated those tissues. They screamed 'you will cry here.'

As she surveyed the room, it wasn't until the psychiatrist led her to a dimple sofa across the office that Eun Ha was finally able to speak. "Ah, before we begin..."

"Hmm? Please go on." Dr Han said patiently.

"This is my first time seeing a doctor of any kind, so...could you please tell me what should happen, and what should I be telling you during these sessions..." Eun Ha looked everywhere and anywhere except the therapist's eyes, asking in the most halting manner.

"There's nothing you should or shouldn't tell me." The psychiatrist answered, tone as soothing as she could make it.

"But—"

"You came here because you believe a doctor can help you."

Eun Ha froze, she glanced over at the psychiatrist, still visibly wary.

"Am I correct?" The woman persisted.

"I..."

"Then let's try and help, yes?"

"Okay..."

"Take your time. As much as you'd like." Dr. Han soothed, watching a deeply disturbed Eun Ha force a shallow nod, a hitch in her breath.

The woman sank to the sofa's edge, finally staring at her directly.

"We can talk whenever you're ready."

Eun Ha swallowed another breath, sitting on the edge of the sofa, knees locked, purse clutched in her lap like a shield.

"Umh, everything we talk about here is... confidential, right? No one would ever find out anything."

"Of course. These sessions are completely private, no one besides us would find out anything you say."

"And...uhm, not even my family or children..."

"No. No one will ever find out unless you feel the need to inform anyone." The therapist gave an encouraging nod.

Eun Ha still didn't look convinced.

"My credentials are here, along with my license on the desk, do you see them?" The woman turned sideways, looking behind her to make sure the diploma was displayed plainly.

It was, and there wasn't any question of it being a forgery or stolen. The display was just as her website mentioned, though not that many people check this before actually showing up at the psychiatrist's office. Then again, the stellar reviews did help Eun Ha relax just a tiny little bit.

"Are you really sure it will all stay private?" Eun Ha tried her hardest not to sound desperate or upset, but even then, the hints were there in her wavering voice.

The therapist simply met Eun Ha's eyes without any reproach or any visible judgments, no pity whatsoever, her expression and dark eyes calm and composed.

"Yes, my patient files, everything stays within these walls, completely confidential unless given explicit consent to proceed." Dr. Han Jiyoon reassured. "Of course, unless I feel like you're a threat to yourself or others, I won't break any of the rules of professional conduct I've sworn to respect."

Eun Ha loosened just a bit after the psychiatrist spoke, then released an almost relieved breath. "Mhhm."

Dr. Han's gaze lowered to her hands and began with the usual small talk.

"So... Eun ha, may I call you that?"

Eun Ha nodded, heaving a deeper breath now. "Yes, please."

"So… Eun Ha." Dr. Han said again, softer this time. "Tell me what brought you here today."