Remember When ↠ l.p.

Tremors

Things play out almost exactly as Colin guessed they would. My past list of doctors and battles with depression sparks a few doubts at the courthouse. I get a call the next day instructing me about where to go to get a "check-up"...a mental check-up. So that's where I am today. Despite all of Louis's reassurances that everything will be fine, I find myself still worrying as I stand outside the front door of the therapist's office building. I talked to my mom and I honestly did try to confront my feelings and deal with them. I acknowledged that I was afraid and that I feared that I would screw all of Louis's plans up and Tessie wouldn't be able to leave Liam. Yet now I'm here, standing in front of the stone steps, staring up at the building. I wonder how it can seem so intimidating when it's only an average size and decorated nicely. I clench my shaking hands and take a deep breath. One step at a time, I remind myself. This is something that I have to do and I can't back down from it. I step onto the first step, breath out, take another step. The next thing I know I'm in front of the front door and my hand is stretching out to rest on top of the knob. I take a few deep breathes and rest there for a moment. This is fine, I've already gotten in almost. I open the door and step up to the receptionist's desk before I can think about it much more. Funnily enough, once I've signed in and been told where to sit and wait, I start to feel a little better. I spend the next five minutes flipping through the health and fitness magazines left around the waiting room. When I stand up to walk past the patient exiting the therapist's office to enter I feel much calmer than I did upon entering the building. It's as if that was the real challenge, just getting there and going through with getting this testing done. Once I'd checked in for my appointment there was no running, it was just those few steps into the front door that were the gray area, the still moments in time where I could run off and avoid this testing. It's not that I'm exactly afraid of talking to the therapist and being evaluated. I'm afraid that I'll do badly and that will not only get Tessie taken away from me before I've even had her, but it'll cause me to relapse. Not completely, but it'll make me realize that I'm not as well as I thought I was. But now, I can't turn back. I have to face my decisions. So I walk in confidently and shut the door calmly behind me before taking a seat across from the therapist. The office smells of incense and there's a few potted plants placed sporadically around the room. The chair across the desk from the therapist is soft and has a fun tribal pattern. The therapist, whose plaque reads Mr. Walen, is smiling at me and starts to make introductions. I find myself slowly becoming more and more at ease. Maybe this will be alright after all, a little voice hopes excitedly. I banish the thought quickly, I don't want to jinx my chances. I push my rhoughts away and focus on the moment at hand. I will get through this, for myself and for Tessie.

I skipped the therapists bit because I honestly don't know how that would go down. So yeah. Sorry this was short, I did want to do something though. There's a chance that I may take the week and/or the next few days off of writing. We'll see I guess. Or you'll get a very long update due to boredom on the car journey xP (we're going out of town to Tennessee where my parents went on their honeymoon, it's their 20 year anniversary so yayyy them)

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