Toc Toc

In the midst of the sterile, modernist interior of Dr. Martín's highly anticipated psychologist's office, an assortment of patients gathered, each bearing an unspoken weight. They were drawn together by a thread of desperation, an all-consuming struggle to tame the beast that lay within. Each of the six individuals harbored a dark secret, a malady that defied the norms of societal expectation: Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, or OCD for short. The patients, all meticulously attired in formal attire, seemed to exude an air of normalcy. However, upon closer inspection, hints of their inner turmoil began to surface. They fidgeted, they paced, and they checked their watches, all betraying a sense of unease. The group consisted of diverse individuals, each brought together by a shared affliction. There was Emma, a poised corporate executive whose spotless desk was actually a carefully constructed façade, hiding an ocean of anxious thoughts. Across from her sat Carlos, a ruggedly handsome young man whose imposing stature hid an insatiable need for order. In the corner, a disheveled woman known only as 'L' (her last name unspoken) was wrestling with an unseen demon, her hands twitching as she counted the seconds until the next minute. The group's collective anxiety reached a fever pitch as the minutes ticked by, each of them growing increasingly agitated. They checked their watches for what felt like the hundredth time, willing the minutes to pass, yet fearing the moment when the clock would strike 2 PM – when their scheduled appointments with Dr. Martín were due to begin. Just as it seemed that their collective anxiety could no longer be contained, a loud voice pierced the air, an announcement that sent a shiver of dread down their spines. The plane carrying their psychologist, Dr. Martín, had been delayed, and he wouldn't be arriving on schedule. Panic set in as the reality of their situation sunk in: they were to be left alone with their obsessions and compulsions, with no one to guide them, no one to offer solace. As the minutes stretched into an eternity, the group's behavior began to spiral out of control. Emma's ritual of washing her hands became an all-consuming exercise, each passing moment fueling her need to purge her thoughts. Carlos's need for order turned to chaos as he frantically rearranged the furniture in the waiting room, seeking to impose some semblance of control over the unpredictable world around him. L', meanwhile, retreated to a corner, consumed by a cacophony of thoughts, her mind racing at a frenetic pace as she struggled to count the seconds until the next minute. Her actions, though seemingly innocuous to the uninformed, were, in fact, a desperate attempt to distract herself from the creeping sense of despair that threatened to engulf her. In another part of the room, Daniel, a quiet, bespectacled young man, wrestled with a different manifestation of his OCD. He counted, his mind stuck in a never-ending cycle of numbers and patterns. His fingers moved rapidly, tapping out a staccato beat on the armrest of his chair, as he searched for some semblance of peace in a world that seemed determined to torment him. Amidst this maelstrom of chaos, a young couple, Ana and her boyfriend, Pablo, huddled together in the corner, their faces etched with concern. Ana's rituals had taken a particularly pernicious form, her compulsion to check the clock every 10 seconds driving Pablo to the brink of despair. His own OCD had taken a more violent form – outbursts of rage, usually triggered by some minor irritation or inconvenience. As the minutes ticked by, each of the patients found themselves lost in their own private hell, desperate for a respite from the relentless torment that haunted them. In the silence that filled the waiting room, the echoes of their despair seemed to reverberate, a haunting reminder that they were not alone in their struggles. The group's collective anxiety had reached a fever pitch, a toxic mix of fear, desperation, and hopelessness hanging in the air. Would they find a way to keep their manias at bay, to somehow transcend the all-consuming grip of their OCD and find a fleeting sense of peace? Or would the delay of Dr. Martín's plane prove to be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, plunging them into the darkest recesses of their own minds? Only time would tell.