"I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long, I fell through the cracks at the end of our street"

I'm so exhausted. Today I had the first session of therapy since London, and I was all excited because we had agreed over the phone to talk about my trip, and I couldn't wait. When I got there I had to wait ten minutes, and then my therapist walked in with my mom's doctor. Again, my therapy sessions are in the same clinic my mother is, my therapist's office is at the first floor while mom's room is on the ground floor.

Anyway, the doctor had stopped by because he wanted to tell me that mom had had another epileptic seizure yesterday, but he had changed her meds and now she was fine. For those of you who don't know, because of a hundred reasons I can't get in at the moment, epileptic seizures are my Trigger. The Trigger of all Triggers. So I'm standing there, nodding, making the right comments, breathing in and out and trying to speed up the conversation so that he would leave us alone, and he's all smiling, and suddenly he starts talking about how, even if my mom's brain is completely shut off, sometimes it looks like she's awake, and isn't that weird and funny?

So, in the few seconds it takes my brain to digest what he just said, and my eyes to fill up with tears, my therapist goes completely pale and tells him "this is not what we agreed you would tell her" and I'm sitting there with tears falling out while part of my brain realizes my therapist and mom's doctor roleplay the conversations they're going to have with me. And I'm kinda happy of how she takes care of me, and protects me, even if I'm still crying, and she starts scolding mom's doctor right there. I mean, she's the most adorable and cute person ever, and it was like watching a cute, furry puppy and find out that it's actually one meal away from being a fully grown pissed off wolf. No kidding.

Anyway, mom's doctor apologized, stuttering too, and he then tried to blame it on his mother's recent death, and then my therapist all but threw him out of the room. So, no talking about London at all, mostly me talking about mom while she sat there growling about insensitive people.

It actually feels good when someone protects you like that, like you're not, in fact, alone, but good feeling aside (and discovering that my therapist is pretty fierce under all that cuteness), I'm absolutely exhausted. Drained. Feeling like I just ran a marathon. So I'm just going to play the drums for a while, that always helps me relax. And then chocolate, definitely.

"I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long, I fell through the cracks at the end of our street"

I'm so exhausted. Today I had the first session of therapy since London, and I was all excited because we had agreed over the phone to talk about my trip, and I couldn't wait. When I got there I had to wait ten minutes, and then my therapist walked in with my mom's doctor. Again, my therapy sessions are in the same clinic my mother is, my therapist's office is at the first floor while mom's room is on the ground floor.

Anyway, the doctor had stopped by because he wanted to tell me that mom had had another epileptic seizure yesterday, but he had changed her meds and now she was fine. For those of you who don't know, because of a hundred reasons I can't get in at the moment, epileptic seizures are my Trigger. The Trigger of all Triggers. So I'm standing there, nodding, making the right comments, breathing in and out and trying to speed up the conversation so that he would leave us alone, and he's all smiling, and suddenly he starts talking about how, even if my mom's brain is completely shut off, sometimes it looks like she's awake, and isn't that weird and funny?

So, in the few seconds it takes my brain to digest what he just said, and my eyes to fill up with tears, my therapist goes completely pale and tells him "this is not what we agreed you would tell her" and I'm sitting there with tears falling out while part of my brain realizes my therapist and mom's doctor roleplay the conversations they're going to have with me. And I'm kinda happy of how she takes care of me, and protects me, even if I'm still crying, and she starts scolding mom's doctor right there. I mean, she's the most adorable and cute person ever, and it was like watching a cute, furry puppy and find out that it's actually one meal away from being a fully grown pissed off wolf. No kidding.

Anyway, mom's doctor apologized, stuttering too, and he then tried to blame it on his mother's recent death, and then my therapist all but threw him out of the room. So, no talking about London at all, mostly me talking about mom while she sat there growling about insensitive people.

It actually feels good when someone protects you like that, like you're not, in fact, alone, but good feeling aside (and discovering that my therapist is pretty fierce under all that cuteness), I'm absolutely exhausted. Drained. Feeling like I just ran a marathon. So I'm just going to play the drums for a while, that always helps me relax. And then chocolate, definitely.