wicked hot hot

Wicked hot hot

It’s been awful with the humidity the past few days. Today I had to go out in it for my therapy appointment. I brought a facecloth with me so I could dab at the sweat. I had perspiring but there is nothing I can do about it in warm weather.

I woke up before six to use the bathroom and then I went back to sleep for almost 5 hours. It was around 11 I woke up. I was hungry and didn’t know what I wanted to make. I have a package of bacon that I need to use but didn’t have time to cook it. I really didn’t feel like making it. It was too hot. I just made some toast. Before I went downstairs, I checked my internet and I still didn’t have it. There were no messages on my phone either so Verizon didn’t call me.

After I made my toast, I got ready to head to Starbucks. The bus was late, even though it wasn’t too full. Thankfully, it had the AC cranked. I ordered my Starbucks through the app so it would be ready by the time I got there. I wanted to try the mobile order. It was easy once I figured out how to order my drink. It’s not complicated as I just get 4 shots of espresso on ice. I had a reward so I used it for my breakfast sandwich. It was all ready by the time the bus got to the Square. Neat.

After I had breakfast, I wrote in my journal. After an hour, I was bored. I wish I brought a book with me. I was really nervous about my therapy appointment. I wasn’t in pain as I took some meds before leaving the house. I needed to buy water as I knew I would be thirsty in the heat. I bought it at Starbucks and then left for the train station. I was early so I let a few trains pass before I got on. It was only a few stops I had to go.

I was sweating a lot by the time I reached the office. Luckily, they had AC in the waiting room. I cooled off some and thought about what to talk about with my therapist. I almost left a few minutes before he called me in. I was so nervous. I began nervously asking him if he minded me going through with transitioning. He answered with a damn question. I fucking hate that. I was getting annoyed and I guess he could sense it so then I asked if he cared about me or was I just a paycheck to him. I explained that a therapist was using me at one point for my insurance and he said he doesn’t take people on unless he cares about them. I felt good in that answer. Then I started crying for whatever reason. I guess the frustration and relief of his answers were reassuring me that I didn’t have to go find another therapist. That this was going to work.

We talked about my ex-therapist and how it was when I picked up my things. I told him about the things that I had gotten back and the blog I wrote about the paper in high school I wrote. I also told him about the book where a poem or essay was published in high school. He didn’t seem impressed but I wasn’t looking at him so not sure. I kept staring at his bookcase, taking inventory of his books. I also told him about the New York Times article and how upset I was over the comments attacking me and my ex-therapist.

I paused and thought about the transition and how I came out to my oldest niece and cousin. I told him about it and how I am going to move forward with it. He said that the stuff about my ex-therapist I should not fill up with the whys or other noise. It would just be harming me. That is hard to do because I still feel responsible for her ending therapy, even though my psych and him has told me it’s not my fault. I think in time I will have that sink in.

He also wanted to know where I was in the transition. So I said that I need a physical and then I can call the LGBTQA health center to move forward. They need that for the initial appointment. It would be several appointments before I was going to get hormone therapy, least according to the information sheet I read online from the center. I told him the reaction my mother had to someone who went through transition and I felt like dying. He wants to work on my response because there is no changing her. I told him I was fearful of being kicked out and he said he would work with me on finding sources so that doesn’t happen. I know at this point my mother is dependent on my check so I have that leverage. I just don’t know if she will be amenable to living with a man. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

All in all, the appointment went better than I thought. He knows this is a huge transition for me and that I am grieving the loss of a 16 year relationship. He said I am like a tootsie pop, tough on the outside but soft inside. I jokingly asked him how many sessions did it take for him to figure that out. He said it with some affection which eased my guard. I am still learning to trust him, something that I never thought I would have to do, again.

About G. Collerone

suicide attempt survivor writing about the hopelessness that accompanies depression that no one likes to talk about
This entry was posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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