What It’s Like

"Well at least your doing something about it. Are you seeing the results you wanted?"

No. It's not like that. You spend all this time trying to figure out what's wrong with yourself. You spend days, weeks, months just hoping it'll pass. And finally you get so low you begin to realize that you should see someone for help. So you make an appointment. The formality of it all seems to put your mind at ease; like the truth of what's bothering you might finally be unveiled and a solution will be born from the light you can't seem to find on your own.

So you show up, nervous and anxious. Not really knowing how this works, if this works, where it all leads to. And you spill your guts to a complete stranger. But you made it a point to yourself years ago to remain heavily guarded and you find yourself unable to explain it all in that one hour of scheduled time. Explain something that you don't even understand. This stranger just has to take the pieces of your complicated, infinite-piece puzzle and tries to fit them all together. They try to connect the dots in your mind so you can start making sense of what's been bothering you. Of what's been holding you down, holding you back, prolonging a seemingly endless darkness that you've fought tirelessly for days on end. But there are no dots. And drawing lines aimlessly makes a scribble.

At the end of that God-forsaken hour you don't feel like anything was accomplished. But you feel good about having made the effort for going. And the stranger uses that moment of good to convince you of the need for another hour-long appointment. So you agree and you leave to allow your already mushy mind the opportunity to digest what just happened.

After you get in the car you begin to understand that these hour-long talks only jumble what you thought you had a grasp on. And suddenly you're back to square one with no idea of what it's like. What it's like to feel good. What it's like to just be okay. What it's like to have your sense of what life could be for you... So you take a deep breath and start the engine.

Seeing the results isn't a part of the process. You start to think maybe there aren't any results to see. And you wonder why you still forfeit an hour of your time... Not that it mattered because that hour wouldn't have been used to figure this out further anyway. The hope that this stranger can make sense of your mind and emotions for you diminishes. And now you just go because it's become routine. Now you just go because at least you can say you're doing something about it. At least you tried to explore what might change for you. I suppose that's what it's like. I suppose that exploration is in vain but also worthwhile.

So, no, I'm not seeing any accomplishing results. And no, I'm not sure I ever will. But I keep waking up. And I keep going. Maybe one day I'll forget about this all. Maybe one day I'll be okay again. Maybe one day I'll know what it's like...