I canceled my gynecologist appointment today cause I felt the way I felt when I first had my mental break and seeked help. And it happened to be in the middle of my gynecologist appointment.
JOURNAL ENTRY – THE BREAKTHROUGH MOMENT – 2005
I don’t think there is ever one breakthrough moment. I do, however, think bits and bits of pieces, days, nights, weeks, months of living in hell do eventually catch up with you. For me, my moment wasn’t planned. It was one of the strangest, greatest, monumental moments in my life that was really a collection of dark times I’ve had for years.
I was at the gyno having my regular examination. I sat on the table, completely defeated, with that stupid piece of paper falling off my back as the doctor wrote in my file.
“I need help.” It came out of the air. I didn’t think it before it dropped out of my lungs. It simply released itself into the room, nor did I think it was me who said it when it hit the oxygen. I sat there for a millisecond and wondered where it came from. It must have been the defeated self finally giving up. I had reached that bottomless pit and somewhere deep inside me something had had enough. It was the hardest and easiest thing I ever said. My doctor turned around as if I just told him Jesus Saves and said, “OK.” Just like that. OK. And that was that.
And I got psychiatric help the next day.
And now, ten years later, I am in a bad place and cancel my appointment cause I should be better by now. But I’m not. And I avoided a place that gave me help cause I am ashamed, embarrassed, confused?
All of it.
Excerpt taken from INSIDE THE INSANE.
Doctor photo available from Shutterstock