After my day of crying for no reason, I made an appointment to see my doctor. It was time. I was fine until I sat down in the waiting room. All I could think of was that I had been down this road before and I didn’t want to be here again. I let the tears fall. I was too tired to care if anyone saw me.
After a short wait, I was ushered to an examination room where I cried freely. My doctor asks me how I am as she enters the room. One look at my face tells her I’m not fine.
Part of the problem is that I take my meds sporadically. I am a mental health cliche. I wake up feeling well and forget to take my meds, or maybe, I don’t want to need something to keep my mind on an even keel.
I feel like I’ve spent my entire life trying to get my act together and I can’t make it work. I’m fifty-six years old. How long does it take?
My doctor makes suggestions and with each one, I have a reason why it won’t work. What if I can’t follow through? What if it’s a disaster? What if I fail? What if, what if, what if!
“Jane, you need to get out of your head,” she says. “Don’t think about it, just pick something and give it a try.”
She’s right of course. I spend so much time inside my head that I stop living. It’s like my wheels are spinning, but I’m going nowhere fast.
She wants me to take my meds every day and come back to see her in two weeks. We came up with a few goals I can work on before she sees me again. A plan to set me up for success. So far, I’m having a successful week!