The Pigeon

I made it to the Tuesday appointment. Again, did not want to walk through that door. Did not want to get out of the car, but I had a book to give him. Simple enough to get me to walk through the door.

The last time he saw me, he saw a side of me that people don’t get to see. Unfortunately my son has seen it, but no one else. Not a stranger. It’s hard for me to really see my therapist as a stranger anymore though. We’ve been talking for nine months now. That’s a long time for the major crazy to just show up in full force out of the blue like that. I told him for all the years I’ve been going to therapists, this was the first time I felt like I was “in therapy.”  He took it as a compliment. I didn’t intend it to be. I actually hated the feeling, however, it probably is true that if after all of this time I can finally show my true freak show self to another human being, then he is really good at his job.

I had requested a release of my medical records from the St. Pat’s Psychiatric Unit and asked him if I could have them faxed to his office. Yes. And there they were…. He wanted to discuss them. He read them! Oh Shit! What the hell did I do?! What do I do now? I handed him the book. His face lit up for a second when he realized I was giving it to him as a gift. (“Don’t let the Pigeon Drive the Bus”, it’s a perfect reference book, besides I kept ranting that the pigeon was driving last time we spoke so… yeah.) He hands me a clipboard in return. I’m like, “what’s this?” “Oh just a release form so that I can disclose your treatment to a psychiatrist once you get an appointment.” Nice. I give him a gift and he gives me a release form. Perfect.

He did find me a doctor who only took cash. Weird as it sounds I got in the next day and am now put on a second medication. It’s what I didn’t want. The cocktail. The antipsychotic. Just the word scares the hell out of me. And that’s how I generally feel about all of this. Scared! My therapist keeps telling me how very brave I am to keep on walking through that door. He tells me that every time I see him now. That’s because I’m also brave enough to tell him I’m scared.

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