I watched her speak.
No.
No.
No.
No.
He smiled. This would be over quickly. She just needed a tablet.
I watched her think.
No, I don’t wish I was dead. I wish I had never been born.
No, I won’t hurt myself. I’ll stop responding to human contact.
No, I have made no plans to end my life. But I plan to walk away and disappear.
No, I am not a danger to myself or others. I don’t exist.
He smiled. This is over.
What do you hope to gain?
Your goals?
Do you have a diagnosis?
Have you experienced a traumatic event in your adulthood?
What brings you here?
What has changed in those twenty years?
How would you describe your childhood in one word?
Are you able to talk?
Where do you think the robin has built it’s nest?
Did you hear me?
It started the same way as always
A week of “maybe tomorrow”
Followed by “well, I don’t really need to go”.
Until there was nothing I really needed.
Supermarket visits were left to other people, or late at night when the aisles were empty.
Fortnightly visits to town to get my hyppallergenic moisturiser or craft supplies were put off.
I become restless, I itched
Boredom and bleeding skin from scratching didn’t seem to be anything to worry about.
Exercise, which I always had a difficult relationship, became less likely
The twenty miles a week I cycled dwindled down to one
And that one became a chore.
I found other tasks to do.
Scraping paint off the fireplace surround.
Sleeping for half the day.
Every panic attack made me retreat further into my room.
Until one day leaving my room caused panic.
I should’ve been worried.
But I just stayed there.
I figured, “I’m not the only one struggling.”
I can manage anxiety.
I kept it as a bedfellow.
Because it was easier than the fear of randomly bumping into it at the end of the road.
We’ve been inseperable since.