Group Therapy Post # 5

It's February 21st. I have my follow up appointment with Bob, the therapist at the Psychiatry clinic. I am sitting in the waiting room, waiting of course. I hate sitting in the waiting room, so awkward. I like to look at everyone in the waiting room and think about why they are here. I like to assume they are worse off than me, it temporarily makes me feel better, temporally numbs the pain. TEMPORARILY. Bob appears from around the corner, calls my name and says "come with me."

 I stand up from the uncomfortable chair and follow him to his office. I take a seat and he closes the door. He asks me how I am doing. I respond with "meh, still feeling crappy. He says to me unfortunately that is to be expected, it can take some time for the increase in Zoloft to take effect. He asks me if I am having any side effects from the Zoloft. I tell him, this will sound weird but my brain feels fuzzy and tingly. It's like I can feel the changes taking effect in my brain. He says hmmm I've never heard that before, if it's causing you any issues we can change your medication. I say no, no issues, just feels weird.

He then asks me what my childhood was like. I tell him, my mom and dad fought a lot. He asks me to tell him a time I remember them fighting. I tell him when I was 7, I was in my room trying to sleep and my mom and dad were fighting. I could hear my dad threatening to kill himself and my mom yelling to my sister to hide the knives. Eventually the SWAT team showed up, after my sister called the cops. Rod looks shocked and says that must have been scary. I respond with yeah I guess, shit happens, you deal with it. He asks me what I want to work on in therapy. I stare at him with a deer in the headlights look. After an awkward silence, I say I just want to be happy. I want to stop feeling depressed and hopeless. I want stop doing destructive things. He asks me what destructive things I do. I say um, well for one spending money I don't have. I let him know that I ruined my credit. I tell him I racked up my credit cards and student line of credit. He asks me how that happened. I tell him when I got laid off from work, I was really depressed and unhappy with life. I found a new job right away, hated it and quit after a month. I used my severance pay to support myself when I wasn't working, and also used it to buy myself a computer and take a trip to California. By the time I found a job I was behind on my credit cards and was unable to get caught up. I tried to make payment arrangements but the companies wouldn't help me. Eventually I met with a bankruptcy trustee and she told me I couldn't afford to file for bankruptcy, that my only option was to hope they don't take me to court and garnish my wages. He says wow that must have been a difficult time, I say it was.

He asks me what else I do that is destructive. I know what I want to tell him, but I am embarrased to talk about it. I know I need to be honest to get the best help possible. I sit there silent, trying to talk, Rod sits there patiently, waiting for me. I finally say, well, I do tend to, um turn to sex when I am depressed or stressed out. He says in a calm and professional manner "you tend to be promiscuous?" That's how he phrased it last time we met. I don't know why I am so embarrassed to talk about it this time. Probably because he will want to go more in detail. I respond yes. I say that's what led to me getting HIV. He asks me "have your ever had a long term committed relationship?" I respond with no, I have never had a romantic relationship. He looks at me, he is trying to keep his face looking neutral but I see the sadness in his eyes for me and says "would you ever want one?" I respond with yes, I do, but I'm scared, I'm broken. I feel sad after I say that, I hold back my tears.

Our time is up and he sets up another appointment for next week. I walk out of the room, down the hallway and out the doors of the Psychiatry department. I take a deep breath and head to my car in the parkade. I open my car door, I sit down, put my hands on the steering wheel and stare out the window. I think to myself, Jesus I'm fucked up. I go home and go to sleep.