PLEASE NOTE: If you are not my licensed therapist: If you read this, please do not discuss it with me. I would rather not know that you are reading it.

My first day of therapy:

I was really nervous about walking into the doctors office and spilling my life out to a complete stranger. Don't get me wrong, I have never had a problem with Doctors before but this time is different. I don't want to face this and I don't want people to see the real me, even a stranger. And I know that this session is going to make me face the real me, whether I like it or not I will have to take off the mask that I hide behind.
So, I take the elevator to the 4th floor. My hands are shaking, my heart beats much quicker than normal. So much so that I feel like it's going to pop out of my chest. I take a deep breath and walk into the office. Receptionist gives me a questionnaire. No big deal. After all, I love filling out forms, right. Wrong. I start crying as I am forced to answer questions about how I am feeling on a daily basis. Why? Because by circling yes or no, I have just admitted that I have these feelings, it's now out there for the world to see and I wonder how what kind of person I will now be portrayed as. And I have always been the person who doesn't really care how the world sees me but what really bothers me the most is how my family sees me. And if they really knew the truth about me, how would they see me then?
The Doctor is quite nice. Tells me to pick a seat in the office. I chose to sit in the chair next to the door rather than the plush leather sofa. I think I'm just not ready for the 'lie on the couch and tell me how you're feeling' part of this whole ordeal. Although after I chose the chair, I wondered what my choice gave insight to. I would later find out.

So, again, I break down in tears at the first question asked, "What brings you here?" Nice, huh? The truth is that this has become a life or death situation for me. I can't go on feeling the way that I do nor allow those around me to deal with this pathetic mess that I have become. And this is not about stress from the kids, not working outside the home or even just being bored. This is about me. About the fact that I wonder what it will take to enjoy life again. To not spend a day in tears, wondering why I'm here. The truth is that I don't want to get out of bed, even though I hardly sleep. Don't want to deal with the daily things that I need to deal with. I find myself taking care of the boys because that's 'my job', not because I want to...sadly, most of the time I don't want to. I clean the house out of guilt that I need to be doing something to be worth having around. Most of the time, I feel like a walking zombie, no real feelings other than sadness, not really caring about anything that I use to. I often compare myself to a paperweight. Just a lump of material, sitting around, mostly for show but has a function nonetheless. Do you really need a paperweight? I hide behind a crooked smile and an 'I'm fine' answer when the truth is that I feel worthless, like I'm bringing everyone down and that the people around me would benefit from me no longer being here. The truth is that I would rather end my life than go on living like this. And for me, right now, this visit is a make or break deal. Because I'm nearing the end of the road. I can feel it and the closer I get the harder it is for me to turn back around. I know that I'm loved, needed and wanted but it's really hard to believe that anyone would feel that way if they knew the truth.

So, I walk away from today's visit with a few things I already knew and a few to ponder. First, I have major depression (knew that). More than likely have been dealing with a form of depression my whole life, probably passed down genetically. A chemical imbalance, an illness not a personality disorder. I'm not crazy, not looking for attention, just off kilter and like any disease I need to take steps to reach the cure. Second, I am agoraphobic. This was not a surprise to me of course, but may be to people who know me. This is the very reason that I stay in my pj's all day long and look for any excuse not to attend functions with friends or even run errands. The severity of it has increased dramatically over the past month and may get worse before it gets better. The panic attacks hard harder to get through now than before and the pain remains for long durations afterward. And finally, the seat I chose was in fact simply because it was by the door. I was nervous, in a situation I wasn't comfortable with and although I knew why I was there and what would happen I still chose the spot that I could easily make my escape from the room if I felt that I needed to. The seat next to the door.

So, this marks the first step on a long road to recovery. I walk away feeling a little lighter, a small weight lifted off my shoulders. Although the day remains hard to get through I will press on, hoping that tomorrow is a little easier.


Agoraphobia (from Greek aγορά, "marketplace"; and φόβος/φοβία, -phobia) is an anxiety disorder, often precipitated by the fear of having a panic attack in a setting from which there is no easy means of escape. As a result, sufferers of agoraphobia may avoid public and/or unfamiliar places. In severe cases, the sufferer may become confined to his or her home, experiencing difficulty traveling from this "safe place."

Symptoms
A phobia is the excessive fear of a specific object, circumstance or situation. Agoraphobia is excessive worry about having a panic attack in a public place. Typical agoraphobia symptoms include:

Fear of being alone
Fear of being in crowded places, such as a shopping mall or sports stadium
Fear of losing control in a public place
Fear of being in places where it may be hard to get out of, such as an elevator or train
Inability to leave your house for long periods (housebound)
Sense of helplessness
Overdependence on others
A sense that your body is unreal
In addition, you may also have signs and symptoms similar to a panic attack, including:

Lightheadedness
Trouble breathing
Dizziness
Excessive sweating
Rapid heart rate
Flushing
Nausea
Upset stomach or diarrhea
Chest pain
Feeling a loss of control
Trouble swallowing