The first couple of times were okay.. but still, I felt a bit uneasy. There was nothing I wanted to do more, than run out of the waiting room the moment I heard her footsteps approaching around the corner. But I didn’t.
I was there every time, in the room, sitting on a lazy chair while staring out the window, daydreaming about any place other place but here… See, I’m not a big fan of ‘talking’. About feelings, what I think and what I want. Because I honestly don’t know anymore. The irony is that I used to be that kind of person, someone who speaks openly about everything and supports people to do the same. Well, not anymore! And definitely not to someone I barely now, who’s just sitting there with her books and box of tissues, waiting for the next patient to burst out in tears. (Even my thoughts can’t function without sarcasm, by the way.)
Luckily, my therapist has a working mouth too, so she can do the talking. And ask me questions.. about how I’ve been feeling for the last two weeks (well I felt fábulous!), how I would rate my mood swings, 1 being a lot of mood swings and 10 feeling pretty good (I will rate them a big fat 10, then) and if I’m still able to enjoy the little things in life (besides the moment when it’s finally time to get out of here and I can step through that freaking door). So that’s a no on the last question, by the way.
It appears to be a really big deal when you’re depressed; do something, every single day, that you can look forward too. Every day. How in the world am I going to do that?? I don’t even have time to do that? And what am I supposed to do, feed the ducks at the park?
So my sweet and very patient therapist asked me what made me happy before I got depressed? That’s when I learned I was not just depressed, I suffered from some serious amnesia too… But, no worries, my Dr. Phil had an idea. Taking some rest for a while seemed to be most important, so I made a promise I would schedule a little me-time every day, doing something that relaxes me. Walking the dogs would be a pretty good start, but so is reading a book or watching Netflix on my couch.
That’s why I stopped at the supermarket on my way home to get some Ben & Jerry’s and I did not leave my couch until I finished the whole thing.
A little bit too much, later that day I was not only still depressed, but also very nauseous.