Yesterday was less stressful than I thought. I guess your body and mind know when it’s time to man up and be an adult with problems that need solving.
I took the bus, there was one in my neighborhood that oh-so-conveniently passed right by the medical center I was going to.
The bus ride was uneventful and so was the time I spent waiting in this desolate waiting room. Let me paint you a picture; imagine a hallway, filled with sad posters that tell you to cover you mouth when you cough. There’s a distant drilling noise since it’s not just a mental health clinic, it’s an everything clinic and there’s a person having their teeth drilled by (hopefully) a dentist.
The appointment itself was painless. It’s not like I have anything against psychiatrists, I just never thought I’d be the one needing one since I’m so in charge of my life.
The woman was neutral, the beginning was awkward since she asked me why I’m here and what my deal is. It’s awkward confirming that you have problems, or at least it is for me. Sitting there and talking about myself to a person that has no idea about me is strange.
To cut a long story short (my appointment took around half an hour), it was decided that therapy and medication would help me out most. I literally just took my first dose of Prozac, so that’s that. I don’t know how this will change me, but she also perscribed me a light anti-anxiety sleeping pill which helped me sleep last night. I hadn’t been sleeping for a week, so this was a welcome change.
Anyway, I’m curious about how all this will change me, since I’ve lived almost half my life depressed. It’s never been as crippling as it has felt the past few weeks but it’s been a constant companion.