No decisions based on fear. No decisions based on fear. No decisions based on fear.
I am now working on the better half of 3 1/2 months of sanity which I will continue to boast about. When I initially stopped seeing my shrink I had it in my mind that I would just stop for a bit and then continue to see him sometime in the future on a less regular basis. Sounds fair enough doesn’t it? Generally I’m not such a fan of compromise but I think this was a workable one – true, a compromise between me and myself but nonetheless. As the calender declares, September is literally just around the corner – school begins, routines take root again, expectations and stress build up, and to boot – the damn sun goes south! which leaves my pasty skin as the only thing glowy about me. As you might expect, if I haven’t otherwise guided your thought process, now is as good as anytime to get back to the chaise longue. OF COURSE THERE IS A TWIST. Providing that there is even an appointment available – my doctor works for the state and well, we know how stretched our medical resources are – so yes! back to the complication. The difficulty in this story is of course me. There is something within me that does not allow for me to pick up that phone and make an appointment. I understand that despite myself, it is long term the best thing I could do. I am after all, lucky enough to have a doctor and in my city too. When my family doctor referred me to get further help she advised that I may have to travel as far as Toronto to get the help that I needed. Dr.Zebrowski was newish to town and was still taking a few patients and I was one of them. He also deals with all of the uncertified nut jobs who walk through the hospital doors either trying to kill themselves or others. All in all, I am damn lucky to have him on my side AND, I am a dick. I can’t afford to lose him and yet there is something, – - fear?, that stops me in my tracks and makes me shutter at the idea of going back into the room, of… of… what? Maybe I’m afraid of the reality that depression doesn’t actually go away. Maybe I’m afraid that he will blow my cover – my delusional cover. Maybe he will make me answer questions that I do not want brought up. I do not want to talk about… my secrets. The problem is that I’ve been a patient for so long that I no longer have any secrets. There is no line that this man will not cross. I want lines! I want borders. Borders are protecting me right now. There may still be an elephant in the room and ignoring sometimes does work.
A month or so ago I declared that it was best to live your life – that’s right, YOUR life – not necessarily mine with the mantra “No decisions based on fear”. Maybe tomorrow will be the day that I decide to be honest with myself and realize that happiness and reality can co-exist. Maybe.
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