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Confession
July 14, 2005 | Category: In My Life
I went to see a psychiatrist this mornng.
He was quiet and nice. When I sat down, and he asked me what brought me to his office, I started to cry.
I didn't tell him about my heart, or my high blood pressure.
Or how my doctor thinks that I might have a chemical imbalance that is causing a depression that is screwing with my heart and my blood pressure.
Or that I can't stand living in a rehab project.
Or that the garden is withering in this drought.
The words that came out of me were a surprise.
I said that my life has gone gray except for my son.
I said I didn't remember what happy felt like.
I said that all the things I love to do have become chores.
I said that I was angry, because finally my husband shows signs of healing and life and now everything around me was crumbling like a sand castle.
I choked on my tears on his uncomfortable couch and apologized for being incoherant.
And he said it was okay. He said it was okay. He said I would be okay. And that he would help me get there.
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