A Dilemma. The Same Old Same Old.

I am in disagreement with myself. Part of me wants to keep the therapist at a distance, and part of me lost its shit Friday morning and went scrambling to find him. Right this minute I'm thinking: *Yawn* How predictable was that? Elementary, my dear Watson. Pass the beer, eh?

So, I emailed him Friday morning, just desperate to know that he was still there, and he answered that he was, but that he would be away for the weekend. Then there was the frantic phone call to book an appointment before the regular one next Wednesday. He sounded sleepy. Well, of course he did! It was the fucking crack of dawn! He said he could talk to me at 5:30 P.M. (2:30 his time). Then I went to sleep (passed out is probably more accurate). I didn't check my email after I got up and I called at the designated time, but he wasn't there. I checked my email and he had had to cancel because he forgot when he made the appointment (at the sleepy crack of dawn) that he had workmen coming to his house then and he had to be there with them. He offered me an appointment for Monday evening and I took it. Now I have the dilemma. Sometimes I want the appointment very much, sometimes I think he is a liar and a faker, sometimes I can scarcely connect with the reason I wanted the extra appointment to begin with, and sometimes I just think the whole goddamn thing is stupid.

And may I just say, while I can, what brought all this on? It was the grandfather and his ordeal at the hospital. It was the recollection of the nightmare about the very same hospital where my grandfather was overdrugged for the convenience of others and pretty much held prisoner because my grandmother was afraid to have a nurse in the house. Yes, I remember that hospital in my nightmares. Was it from when I had pneumonia as a child? The time I broke my collarbone when I 'fell from my highchair' at the grandparents' house? It was also the recent contact with the mother causing the trouble. It was the fear from the little girl and the strange man she showed me. I knew he was a doctor or dentist. He reminded me a little bit of my own dentist. That makes sense. I 'disappeared' in his office for a few minutes once. All because he wanted to hug me because he is sweet and nice and he admired the courage I employed to finish the dental work (he knows all about the anxiety - it's not something I can easily hide in a situation like that one). When I came back, I was right where I left off, but the hugging was over. The dentist and his nurse were right there talking to me as if nothing had happened. Yes, I pulled it off. I appeared perfectly 'normal'. I had 'stepped aside' (and then some). I guess it's like riding a bicycle, you know?

And now I am going to go eat some hot, spicy and microwaveable ramen noodles, have another beer while I put the finishing touches on the kitchen, brush my teeth, take a shower, and pass out before dawn like a respectable citizen.