Today I went to see a doctor. I had meant to last week but they’re overbooked and the earliest I could get was today, 3:30PM.
The reason I finally brought myself to a doctor’s office without second thoughts was simply because I’m done. I’m done with this thing ruining my time here. I’m tired of not getting to know anyone in my class because I always end up running out of the damn classes to hide in the park and calm down. I’m done with being drained after only five minutes outside my house. I’m done with my brain crapping all over the place. Done. I want to make friends and have fun and live and breathe normally and make memories.
I really don’t want to make this post very long; so I’ll just try to cut to my point. (Yeah right, cos I can do that! hahahahaha)
I’ve been telling myself ever since I decided to actually go and see a doctor about that fraction of my issues that it was for others. I was lying to myself, saying that I was going for others, so that I would know what to reply next time I’m asked “What’s wrong?”, what correct word should I use. Bullshit, right? I know.
On my way back, I realized that I had actually gone for me.
When I explained to the doctor my hellish (almost) daily routine, he told me exactly what I knew. Well, maybe not exactly… He did use some complicated words when it came to what my body is actually doing when I’m freaking out. On the other hand, he also used nice imagery and metaphors which is exactly how to catch my attention. Ha ha. He was very sweet to me, which was unsettling but also very much what I needed after such a long day! Anyways. Back to my point. 😉
He told me what I knew. He used the word I knew was the correct one. Anxiety. That’s it. I knew that was it. But that’s why I had come for, to hear someone else say it, someone that isn’t me. I needed to hear someone else say it so that I could maybe accept it as a reality and grant myself the right to not be okay.
Even though it had gotten this worse for over a year now, I still hadn’t really acknowledged the issue. I kept overlooking it, you know, thinking that, if I’d ignore it it’d eventually go away because I’m full of shit and it couldn’t be as real an issue as I wanted it to be.
I would get up in the morning, ready to shine bright today and get to make some people smile. I would be all pumped for this new beautiful day and then it would start. It’d get harder to breathe normally. Then I’d gradually start to shake and so would my heart. I’d end up with pins and needles in my hands and often in the face too. Dizzy head; sweat; all the cool things. I’d feel uncomfortable, try to fight it for a few minutes then be overwhelmed and take a few minutes to gather the strength to leave. Then, I’d get my bag, run out of the classroom and hide in the park nearby to calm down. 30 minutes later and I’d be drained. I’d feel like sleeping all day but I’d still try again the next class and either end up on the same route or attend it all zombie-like.
And, even though it would happen everyday, I still couldn’t treat it as anything real. I did not want to. I needed someone to help me let myself suffer, as bad as it may sound. It is really happening and it’s actually okay for me not to be okay. The first step to getting past a fence is to realize it’s there.
Hearing those words that I had been whispering to myself at night when I’d reflect on my tiring though empty days coming from another person, it hurt. Hearing the truth I had played on repeat in the back of my head coming from another body, another mouth… It hit home better than it ever did when I spoke them. Sometimes, it’s just not enough to know…
It’s like onstage monitor speakers; they help you hear yourself. It sends back to you the sounds that you’ve been producing but which you couldn’t hear clearly from what is happening all around at the same time.
It’s like having someone read your dark poem out loud days after you’ve written it. You hear it just as you wrote it and, although they don’t, you hear between the lines and think to yourself “Ouch! I’m a mess…”
Fuck I need sleep right now sorry if I don’t make sense; it still feels nice to write
He didn’t tell me much I didn’t know (and he knew that! 😉 ) but still, I got out of his office enlightened.
What he truly gave me was questions to reflect on to figure out the cause, because these are just effects. He said he was sorry because this wouldn’t help me have a better week at all and added that doctors like to press on your splinter to give you a real idea of what you’re dealing with. And I smiled because I’m very familiar with the concept.
But, between you and me, I’m pretty sure he made sure I’d torture myself real good this weekend so that I would run back to his office next week because I looked very cute in that dress! 😉 Jk. I really like that dress though.
Got no compliment so I guess I’m allowed to make up my own on my blog, huh? hashtag shut up Chloë and go to bed already 😛
He and I both know that it is far from being the only room in that long corridor or, to put it in his words, that my anxiety isn’t the only wagon attached to the front car. But that’s another book to dig up from this wasteland.
To sum it up: I went to the doctor, cried a lot (did I not mention that before? :-p
t’was a rough day ) and heard what I had come to hear which was what I had been saying. Got a word and thousands more question marks.
He gave me different sized shovels and I gotta dig or at least scrap a bit the surface with my fingers. Try to hit something and Idek. Are we trying to take down a mountain here? Pretty sure it’s a whole range on the left side of the island! But I’ll do it. I’ll go in front of that mirror and find the needles between my muscles and bones.
I want this to stop. Or at least fade in the background? Is that a good enough alternative? I’d like to go out and not shake. I would like to talk to someone new again and be me again.
Aiming for happiness is a foolish thing. I just want to shine a brighter dark.
I think I’ve said all I could for tonight. I’m very tired; going to bed.
P.S.: I like sleeping without pants. ❤