Hope...

Had my first appointment with my counselor today.  I was worried going in.  Just having to leave the house during the day was a feat in and of itself.  It helped a little that the day was dreary and rainy.  I don't like sunlight.  I know that sounds so silly.  But dark, overcast, dreary days are soothing to me.  I prefer night to day.  My ex-husband used to joke that I'm part vampire. The way I often cringe in sunlight I wonder if he wasn't far off the mark. But today was a dreary day and that made it easier to walk out the door.  It was also chilly enough that I could wear a hoodie.  A hoodie is like a blankie is to a child.  I love fall and winter because I can comfortably wear a hoodie.  Summer is the bane of my existence.  But that's for another journal entry.

I made it out the door and into the car and drove to the office.  Of course, it was on an obscure street in a buidling that had entrances in the front and in the back.  Unfortunately I was unaware of this so I ended up parking much further from the entrance I needed than I had too.  But now I know.  I didn't bother correcting my mistake. It would have required going around the block to get back to the right spot because it was on a one way street. And my anxiety was already rising because I'd had a moment of panic when I couldn't find the place right away.  The short walk to the correct entrance helped me cool down a little. 

The waitng area was very quiet.  One other woman sat in a chair waiting.  The receptionist checked me in. A process that took a little longer than I would have liked only because I was standing there silence waiting.  I don't do small talk well.  Especially in with people I don't know and she didn't offer much in the way of conversation. Which was actually fine with me since I was buzzing with anxiety again, starting to sweat and caught myself wringing my hands frantically.  I don't think I would have been able to speak in complete sentences if I'd tried. When I was finally able to sit down to wait for my counselor I was sweating buckets.  I'd come prepared though.  I pulled out a book and began to read.  I can block out just about anything when I'm reading.  I completely lose myself in books. I didn't have to wait long when my counselor came in and we went back to her office. 

I liked her.  Right from the start.  Coincidentally she has the same name and nickname as my childhood best friend.  She also went by her nickname because her mother had the same first name and it was confusing.  I go by my middle name because I share a first name with MY Mom.  I sort of saw those as positive signs.  God telling me this was going to be good for me.

She spent over an hour with me.  We mostly spent time taking a history which often led to talk of situations and behaviors that concerned me.  It was casual and unstructured which I liked.  I think it went well and I made another appointment for next week.  I will see the counselor three times and then the psychiatrist as well.   I feel good about this step I've taken and I'm actually looking forward to next week's session.  I know I have a long way to go and I won't magically be better overnight but this is the first time in a very long time that I feel any sense of hope.  And it feels nice. 

Hope is the thing with feathersThat perches in the soul,And sings the tune without words,And never stops at all...

~Emily Dickinson