This is one of my favourite excerpts from something I wrote a few years ago. ‘Hi, I’m Dr Wandsworth.’ She says as I walk with her down the corridor to her room. ‘What can I do for you today?’ ‘I don’t think I’m normal.’ I say. ‘How?’ ‘I think my brain is weird. Wired differently. Wrong.’ I say and I can feel the tears already. ‘I feel sad and frustrated a lot.’ ‘OK, have you ever thought about suicide?’ ‘As a solution?’ I say, trying to make a joke. ‘No.’ ‘No, I haven’t thought about killing myself.’ I say,. ‘Not in a long time anyway.’ ‘What’s a long time?’ ‘About twenty four hours.’ She hisses through her teeth. ‘And what stopped you?’ I shrug. ‘I don’t want to fuck it up.’ ‘Oh. I see.’ She makes a note on a piece of paper and I can’t see what it says. ‘Anything else?’ ‘I have these moments where I lose control of everything.’ ‘OK, how?’ ‘Like my brain gets stuck in a gear and can’t go past it. It’s not rational or logical’. I look at her to make sure she’s not beginning to edge away. ‘It’s impulsive and I say and do silly things in the heat of the moment.’ ‘Everyone does.’ ‘Not like this.’ ‘OK,’ She scribbles something else. I can’t read her utterly indecipherable writing. ‘Do you get panic attacks?’ ‘What are they?’ ‘A feeling of being overwhelmed. Palpitations, sickness?’ ‘Yes. I get that a lot.’ ‘Right. What about compulsions?’ ‘Yes, I have those too.’ She writes something else. ‘I’m going to the hospital, aren’t I?’ I ask her. ‘No, not today.’ She says, her face finally breaking into a smile. ‘Today I’m going to give you some medication and I’ll get you an outpatient appointment in a few weeks to see if we can help you to feel better.’ ‘OK.’ They’re taking me seriously? The crying is probably helping. ‘Is this because I’m crying?’ ‘Julianne, no one should have to feel this way.’ She said. ‘You don’t have to feel this way and you don’t deserve to feel this way.’ ‘What if it’s my fault?’ ‘This isn’t your fault. You’re ill. You need medication and help. That’s all.’ I like Dr Wandsworth with her kindly eyes and large bosom and mess of greying hair. She hands me the prescription. […]
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