I posted this with trembling fingers. I cried as I proofread. It was a true last resort, to put that out there. A written out cry for help.
I should have realized, but I was just…in a dark place, where I could not imagine the amazing support I would receive. I knew that you guys were awesome, but I did not know, before hand, that your words would become a life rope and that every comment would pull me a little closer to shore. I never knew how much it would help to hear, over and over, “Me too” and “It was so hard, but I did it too, and it made such a difference.” I never knew how reassuring it would be to find out that so many of you have been through this, have felt this way, have had to ask for help. It felt so much less scary when I found out I was not alone. And as I read your words my dark place became a little brighter and then gradually, slowly, lit a little tiny light at a time, began to glow.
Naming all those fears and dragging them out into the light of day made them less grand somehow. The monster in the dark, revealed, turned out not to be so scary as I had thought.
I read the first comment and felt a little better. I read the tenth comment and thought that maybe I could just find my insurance card, even if I didn’t do anything with it. I read the fourteenth comment and thought that maybe I could log into the insurance web site and just see if there were any doctors near me. I read the twentieth comment and thought that maybe I would look up in my insurance book what my benefits were. And then I got phone calls and emails and read more comments and I took a deep breath and called the insurance company and said out loud to a real live person that I needed a psychiatrist, and I got an authorization number and a list of doctors and later that night Mr. E brought home thai food and then we looked at the doctor list and he listened while I told him that I would call tomorrow and then he said “Why don’t you call now?” and I explained why I didn’t want to and then he handed me the phone and he sat by me and I called.
My lovely new doctor just returned my call and I have an appointment with her next Thursday. She didn’t ask me any weird questions and I didn’t have to offer up any explanations, other than how to spell Mr. E’s last name and what that wailing noise was in the background. Hopefully when I told her I had a 20 month old she started to write out my prescription.
So, I did it. Now all I have to do is show up to my appointment and hope that I can refrain from telling my new doctor to rock my world.
I feel better. Not super better. but about as much better as a person can feel who has some kind of quink in her brain but who knows that she is doing something to fix it, finally. Actually. That kind of better.
Just let me say this. I can never ever ever ever ever ever thank all of you enough, for your response and your help and your words and your emails and your reassurances and offering me your home phone numbers and your me toos and your stories and your support. I know that I am the one that picked up the phone, and I am proud of me, I am. But you. You all – your words made me strong.
And now I am going to take Cate’s excellent suggestion and buy myself a large silver nut I’ve been eyeing on Etsy for ages. Nuts for the nuts, as they say.
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