The Darkness XIV

Sitting in the waiting room only made my anxiety rise and I was a little grateful that my old friend was back.  I prefer to feel the anxiety to the numbness, it reminds me that I can still feel and still care about myself.  I hate that I have to sit here to be viewed as patients and doctors walk by and know I am seeing a doctor, a psychiatrist no less.  Maybe I truly am crazy...what does that even mean anymore?  I have this thought in my head that I can get rid of my darkness, walk away from it and move on...and I believe it on days that I am strong.  I keep telling myself that because it was forced upon me that it can be taken out...Laura reminds me that this is not the case, it's forever stamped in my memory as a way to alter the real me.  Through no fault of my own and unable to do anything about it the course of my life was changed forever and I received the darkness as a parting gift...the hatred burns in me.

I looked up to see Laura making her way down the hall to collect me so I gathered my things and met her half way.  She smiled and welcomed me warmly while I shook and tried not to cry...at least not until we are in her office.  I walked in and sat in my favourite chair and stared blankly ahead, I have exactly one hour to recap the past several months of my life and the thought is draining.  She sat across from me, opened her book and slid the kleenex box in front of me...she can see it.  Laura is very familiar with my darkness and how it has played with my mental health.  "Natalie it's nice to see you, its been about eight months, please start from the beginning".   I grabbed the box of kleenex, took a sip of my water and started to clean up my mess of a life.

It took almost forty five minutes to tell her my journey, leaving out tidbits like Leanne getting drunk with my dates, my on line dating support group and I may have left out John but everything else made an appearance.  Laura has the best poker face as I'm looking for any expression, but get nothing...there is no judgement.  She placed her pen on her book, folded her hands and met my teary eyes, "we cannot deal with your trauma unless we can control your anxiety".  That means medication, I fucking hate that I have to take anything at all...it's not even my fucking fault, it's not fair.  It angers me instantly as if she should just be able to wave her magic wand and cure me of this awful curse...but she can't and I can't escape it.  She has tried to explain to me several times that if I take a mild medication to deal with my anxiety disorder then she will be able to help me deal with the trauma which in turn should help with my fears and anxieties as well as my secret eating disorder...that seems like quite the hill to climb.  All I hear is that my first 37 years were were an internal nightmare for me and I can spend the next several years trying to be okay with it...how can I possibly sign on to that?  She can spot the fear in me quickly, "Natalie it's a really low dose and won't alter you, it will just make it so your anxiety doesn't control you.  You'll be able to focus".  I feel like Alice in Wonderland...I can either take a pill and say good bye to my best friend or I can keep the anxiety and slide into madness...