The Shrink

     So fast forward a couple weeks from my stepmom telling me we were leaving my dad. She took him back again, only to be left with a still unfaithful husband. Ridiculous, I know. Now it's the week before school starts. A week before I'm planning to move back into the house with the two of them. The week that my dad has a "business trip", where we already know he is going to be with his girlfriend. My stepmom and I decided that we would pack up all of the stuff, and move out while he was gone. We were going to temporarily move into her parents house that was about 20 minutes away from us. Of course, I was staying in Coalinga up until the very last second possible. 

     A couple nights before I was going to head over to Fresno, we got a call that my grandpa (mom's dad) was in the hospital, in a coma. He had had a really bad asthma attack, and stopped breathing. They were able to revive him, but were afraid that he had suffered brain damage. My mom and I rushed to Fresno (1 am) and stayed all night at the hospital with family waiting for test results. It was the worst place for me and my anxiety to be. After hours of sitting in the waiting room, and convincing myself I was going to die of every condition the patients in the ER had, I went over to my Grandma Bonnie's (stepdad's mom). It was already morning by now, and I tried to get some sleep. I failed, so after about an hour, I just went out and sat with Grandma Bonnie (who was widowed and lived by herself). We talked for hours (we never really talked about things beyond school, work, and how Jake was doing). I recapped my summer, and opened up completely about my depression and anxiety. She understood everything, and was soon finishing my sentences. I suddenly realized that my grandma had been experiencing the sickness for years. Hearing her stories made me realize more about myself, and more about what needed to be done to change. I like to think of those hours with Grandma Bonnie as my first therapy session. 

     So, my grandpa stayed in a coma, unresponsive for another week. In the meantime, my stepmom, brothers, and I had made the move. We worked hard to keep the boys comfortable and feeling safe. They handled it better than I could ever imagine two little boys ever could. I think they were used to being without dad around. 

     Anyways, I was exhausted. Between starting a new semester of school (and living 30 minutes away from it), protecting my brothers, encouraging my stepmom, attempting to sort out my feelings towards my dad, and visiting my practically lifeless grandpa in the ICU, I barely had any time to go on WebMD and convince myself I was dying. Of course, I did manage to find time for that. 

      I was worsening daily, and my mom decided to call our insurance and get me hooked up with a therapist. We researched, found one that seemed right for me, and booked an appointment. Two days before the appointment, my family decided to take my grandpa off life support. I was devastated, but mostly heartbroken for my mom. I was plunged deeper into depression. 

      I started therapy. I was super nervous and super skeptical as I walked into the dimly lit room that smelled like candles, with a couch, and a side table that held a tissue box. Crap. It was too much for me. My throat grew lumps and my eyeballs rained as I explained my story to my therapist with the comforting voice (we will just go ahead and call her Pam). I quickly became at ease with Pam as she became almost misty-eyed. I knew she cared about me. She told me she thought I was strong, and assured me that I could conquer this. She would help me. I didn't believe it, but I figured I would try. It made me feel good to talk. I took a silly questionnaire that asked me questions that made me uncomfortable and weak, and it told me that I was depressed (no duh). I also got diagnosed with GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder, look it up. Someone you know has probably suffered from it). 

      I felt like I was going somewhere. I moved out of the house my stepmom was renting, and into Jake's cousin's house that was closer to school. I felt bad leaving my family, but being so far away from people who comforted me was making things worse, and I needed to make myself better. I was putting so much effort being strong for everyone that I became more weak. They understood. I was also going to therapy twice a week, and with Pam's tools, suggestions, and listening skills, I began feeling less anxious about my health and the other day to day issues I would normally become easily overwhelmed by. However, I didn't realize that I would soon become anxious and overwhelmed by a new set of issues that were controllable, issues that I let myself acquire. 

(Issues that I will write about in my next posting that I will begin right now while I don't have any homework!)