You Work For Me: Before My Appointment With My Psychologist

The first thing I will say is, “No!”

Okay, I might say hello or something first so I don’t seem like a complete bitch but I don’t want her to ask about how I’ve been over the past few weeks. I need help now and if she can’t help me in the present moment, what point is there in dissecting my past?

No, Dippy. We aren’t going to talk about how I spent Australia Day or about the stuff up that occurred with that last appointment. Not today. Help me now.

Help me with this feeling in my gut and these jitters in my limbs. They’re getting worse, you know? I was applying makeup earlier and it took forever because my left knee kept jutting back and forth. I had to go for little walks around my bathroom to try to make it stop but it didn’t work.

Help me unravel these shoulders which slump forward out of protection but make it harder to breathe. Sit up nice and straight with me. Let’s be ladies. Shoulders back and a big smile.

It’s now, Dippy. It’s happening now. I feel like ramming scissors into my ears to damage my brain so that maybe I will forget how awful everything feels. I know that’s crazy and impulsive. I’d never actually do that but help me deal with these types of thoughts. Make it so I don’t feel this way.

Don’t talk about your last holiday. Don’t talk about any holidays. Don’t talk about yourself at all. Fix me, Dippy, please.

I’ve seen many before you and I can drop you just as easily as I dropped the others. I can hate you too, Dippy, if I choose to.

Prove yourself.

Help me now.

Please.

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