Dr Casimir

//All this is fiction backed by copious amounts of continuous research on things that actual therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, etc. actually do and say. So, yes, the things I will be writing about are based on facts. However, please don’t take Casimir’s advice or words as any sort of gospel in your own lives, because I am not an expert. I have a minor in Psych, but I am not licensed or able to give ACTUAL advice and help on these sort of problems to ACTUAL people.

Putting aside more recent acquaintances, I have very few friends. One of them is a former patient—

Well, I say former because he no longer visits my office every month like clockwork, but instead only engages my services when he is having a particularly difficult time, which is very, very infrequent. I am quite proud of him.

*Trying to see if anyone’s at home through the keyhole and—*

“Oh, hi!” Cleans throat. “… so … I was just wondering… uhm, what do you believe is…the true, uhm, the reason of your profession? Why and how it fulfills you as a being…” Fingers itching to start any soothing gesture that could minimally give some peace to the anxiety of such awkward situation. Don’t deviate the gaze. Don’t waver.

Casimir’s last patient’s session had ended over an hour ago, and he was seated at his desk catching up on some paperwork, answering a few emails (which he abhorred), and reading a few letters. So, of course he was surprised when he heard someone at his door—who didn’t even knock, he might add. No one liked to knock these days. Ever since he had moved to this city, it seemed like his office had become a revolving door, with Immortals in and out at all hours of the night just to meet the “Vampire Therapist.” He only had a handful of active patients at the moment, and only one was in-person at this time. The rest of his visitors were simply curious about him.

Others may find all this annoying; Casimir was instead greatly amused by their curiosity, though he kind of felt like he was an exhibit…or a circus act.

He imagined that the person at his door now was another curious visitor.

So, Casimir opened the door and was met with the sight of a man crouched at the keyhole, had he not just opened the door. He merely raised a brow at the question, taking note of the other’s nervous energy.

I will not go into detail at this time, as it’s not a story I tell to complete strangers, but…

The death of my wife and two children at the hands of my sire, and the destruction of my village at the hands of the rest of her terrible gang.

I should never have gone home. They would have likely lived full, happy lives had I not inadvertently brought her to them.

I am not a complicated man. I enjoy life’s simple pleasures: a record, a good book, and perhaps a smoke. On the occasion I am out of the office, I will go see a film, or go out dancing.

But my work brings me joy as well. I am constantly learning and researching new discoveries in medicine and science that may be applicable to our kind.