Yes I know it's usually the other way around and some day it will be again. But today I'm talking about the past. It's been almost a year since I've been seeing Dr. Sanity and close to a year since my infamous melt-down in Amy's waiting room. I'd worked myself into a corner from which I saw no way out. Fortunately my friend Nancy kept bugging me to call Dr. Sanity. I finally took the plunge not really understanding the dramatically bad mental and emotional shape I was really in. I thought Dr. Sanity and I would have a few sessions, she'd stamp my passport and there I'd be on my way as a survivor.
One hour on her sofa disabused me of that notion, FAST. I realized I was barely hanging on by my fingernails. Back then there were always thoughts of suicide (knives in particular), talks between Amy and Dr. Sanity of whether I should commit
myself to a mental hospital, all darkness, depression and ugliness no
matter where I turned, had I waited another week I'd probably be dead and that is a reality
But it's getting better, not easier but better.Fortunately with the right drug combination and my beloved Dr. Sanity I am working toward that day when she'll stamp my passport and I'll be on my way as a survivor. It's a slow, painful, often times exquisitely painful exercise. I take great pride in the fact that this week for the first time ever I did not contact Dr. Sanity in any fashion. I'm giving myself a big gold star for that.
Comments