Zone A.



I’ve been on a personal quest to make myself a better person.
I want to be someone who can smile at strangers again, not because I am terrified of them but because I actually like smiling(If that makes sense to you, let’s be best friends and share stories of social anxiety and listen to the Practical Magic Soundtrack on repeat. It will be a blast – until I start feeling like you are being too judgey and we can’t be friends anymore).

Ahem.

Part of my personal quest is to take care of my mental health. This has been something I have touched on in the past, and although I have taken care of things for the most part, I realize now that this has become a little more serious than I had anticipated.  

You may think it’s easy to get help when you feel like the entire world is out to get you.  The truth is, it is not easy at all.  After numerous counseling sessions and feeling like my problems were still bottled up, I finally found a doctor who was able to help through the hospital.  

I felt silly going for the appointment because that day I was having a good day.  I was instructed to enter the hospital through Zone A – the cancer clinic. Zone A is where I went on numerous dates with R. Zone A is where I saw how strong he really was. Zone A is where the doctor’s couldn’t believe we were having a baby.  Zone A is where they told us he was going to die. Although its appearance had changed quite a bit – most notably, the big fish tanks were consolidated to one small tank, the memories were still the same. The smells were still the same. Even after avoiding that place for so many years, I still knew where I had to go.

I met the psychiatrist’s student without shedding a single tear – even though the shock of Zone A was solely on my mind. I had five weeks of counselling without shedding a tear – I saw the psychiatrist for five minutes and he had me bawling like a baby about things that happened in my childhood.  He was good. Some slight medication adjustments and I was on my way back through Zone A.

My follow up appointment brought me back through Zone A.  Only this time I got lost and found myself in a hall with radiation masks and sick people. My anxiety was relentless. I felt like the world was testing me. I was upset.

I was called in immediately as I was already a half an hour late for my appointment at this point.  I met another medical student.  I was intimidated because he was almost twice my height – okay not so much but at that point it felt that way. As I shook his giant hand, I realized he made me feel safe – and I cried like a baby – again.

It hit me at that moment.  I am looking for someone to make me feel safe.  I’ve been the protector of my home for over ten years now. I make all the decisions – good and bad.  I keep the enemies away.  Just once I want to feel small again. I want someone who will tell me that it’s okay they didn’t pick me.  I want to feel like I can look over and have someone there who will beat up that crackhead that stole my Dirty Dancing DVD – only I want him to be a lumberjack* or someone who is not going to die of cancer.

I know that sounds crazy. I mean where can you find a real legit lumberjack this day and age?

Honestly, I’m just tired of feeling afraid. I’m tired of feeling like a weak person thrown into the role of a leader. I’m not saying I want someone to walk all over me and tell me how to live my life, I just want to have someone to make me feel safe again.  

*Flannel chainsaws and bushy chest hair are optional.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hello..this is my blog. I bought this fancy theme and I don't know what to write here just yet. Maybe one day remind me I have to write something inspiring here?

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