or not…?

I finally got what I wanted. Or so I thought. After that fateful day everything would be perfectly fine and I’d get some pills and I’d have something in hands that will either tell me I’m weird and a sad person or ‘congrats, you’re just a lazy f***er’. Turns out I didn’t get a sheet but let me explain from the start.

The appointment was okay. Though I can honestly say I have never ever felt that uncomfortable in my life sitting in the waiting room waiting for the doctor to call me in. I almost backed out too when I arrived at the corner of the street. For the few minutes I had to wait I felt like doomsday had finally arrived. Like sitting at the dentists waiting for a root canal treatment knowing there’s no anesthesia left for your therapy. You just know it’s gonna hurt like hell but it’s either the treament or even more pain. It was awful.

On the way there I felt shaky like I had just drunk at least 3 litres of coffee – and I have to tell you I can’t even handle a single cup without being annoying as hell to everyone around me – and my eyes were watery, my breaths short. I was so scared. I kept telling myself I would be fine. I could always see another doctor. I could always just get up and leave or tell him in the last second that I didn’t need anything really.

Turned out all my panic was unnecessary. The talk lasted for like 20 minutes but only after five minutes or so he told me I was not seeing ghosts, that it was good I was seeking help and that it was stupid of me to wait this long. I should have come earlier and when I tried to explain why I couldn’t, I felt stupid little tears running down my face. Maybe it was the relief. He took a burden away from me, I had carried for at least six to eight years and when he told me there was no chance I was just imagining it all I felt as light as I never have before. It was also awkward crying in front of him but I’m sure I wasn’t the first patient to do that and certainly not his last either.

Anyway…he couldn’t tell me what exactly was wrong with me. For that he got me another appointment with another good shrink. And now is the time to make a guess when I got it =D …….3…..2…..1….. TWO MONTHS LATER! Again. Patience is indeed a virtue. She’s gonna talk to me for a looong time and make notes and probably even test out my brain to see if it works properly. I’ll be as stressed out as I was with the first appointment – I know that for sure but at least I got what I wanted. Kind of. The Diagnose is there. Only verbally but hey, sometimes it is enough to have someone listen to you for a few minutes, just to hear it’s okay, you’re not stupid, it’s not your fault and you are very brave for getting that far.

He didn’t say it with these exact words but that’s what I interpreted. After all he got me some medication to help me start the day easier, to get more productive and tell me I shouldn’t have waited this long for treatment. To be completely honest though, I feel good enough to not take any medication right now. I do feel stressed out a lot because of work and all but the sunshine helps me get out of bed and through the day so I might wait for the in-depth diagnose and then see what I have to do to finally feel like a normal person again. I hope this is where I can get.

I also can’t believe half a year has passed already again. It feels like yesterday when I wrote that post about the new years eve party. Kinda the same thing happened two weeks ago with a birthday party btw but I might rant about that when I have time. I’m sorry for the lack of updates and my dry and not so special writing but as I said I’m pretty stressed out about work. I’ll get to that later. Just wanted to give you my diagnose since that was what I promised.

Until the next update, take good care!

– signed A

the time of my life

Hi,

man, keeping up with this blog is hard. I can’t believe my last entry was written over a month ago but I guess I have been busy with enjoying the sun or keeping my emotions and foul thoughts in check. As you can probably guess, I still have not contacted anyone. Spring is making things easier for me even though it’s still a struggle getting myself out of bed in the morning, to work and then being productive over the rest of the day. Or at least productive for some time of the day… But yeah, work is okay. I finally feel competent and theres only few customers I don’t get along with – which tbh is not my fault. Most of them call to get their anger out of them and I’m just the poor worker receiving their calls. But that’s things I’m just brushing off. Other than that it’s fine.

Something else happened though. On March the 17th my grandad died. I was at work when I received a message from my dad who was at the hospital with him. I can’t exactly describe how I felt but if I had to I would say I felt detached from my own body in some weird, twisted way. Like a plastic doll, just breathing and moving, but not actually feeling anything. I saw the message on my phone and didn’t dare touch it for the next three hours because I didn’t want the message to pop up again. As long as it wasn’t open it was not true. But eventually I had to face it. After a ten minutepause I went back to work like nothing happened. And there was nothing I could do. He was already gone and my life would continue and to be honest I felt really bad for not wanting my life. For thinking about stopping to exist so often that it’s hard to get anything done at all. My grandad had just stopped existing and everybody already missed him. He had a good life, had a clear mind until his death and even went shopping and got coupons just a day before he got to the hospital. He deserved to stop existing as soon as he wanted it just as much as he deserved to live for as long as he wanted. And there I am with mere 24 years and counting but not wanting to count anymore. What’s wrong with me? Something HAS to be wrong.

I’m doing fine for the moment. The way my dad talked about what happened in the hospital, I have a feeling like my grandad was okay with leaving. So though I’m sad, I’m fine knowing this. It makes me feel better, comforts me… And it also makes me see that I cannot, will not give up on life. Not that I really planned on stopping but it’s good to get a little push once in a while. 24 years and counting. I have to keep going just to see where life takes me. Because I should want to live and enjoy life. Because I love sunshine and the energetic feeling I have when I step outside of my workplace after my shift is over. Because of good books, tea, fandoms and movies, finding new friends, karaoke, chocolate milk and most of all because of my family. Moaning someone you love takes so much time and energy even when we already knew it was about time to say goodbye. I can’t imagine my family having to say goodbye to me. I will not let that happen. They mean too much to me for that.

So that’s it for now. Enjoy life while you can. You never know when it will be over.

Until next time, take care…

– signed A