DH and I don’t really do Valentine’s Day. We’re both quite
soppy romantic but share a strong dislike of being told when that romanticism should manifest, so we tend to ignore all the hype and hooha. Which is just as well really, as February 14th is when I will be seen by a psychiatrist for the first time in my life.
I have mixed feelings about this. Part of me feels quite positive – I know that this is a step forward, and that this is the first step towards a diagnosis and/or treatment. But part of me feels nervous, apprehensive, exposed. I will have to be completely honest with a total stranger about my worst moments and thoughts. What if he thinks it’s something really scary? What if he thinks it’s nothing and sends me away? I honestly don’t know which would be worse.
So there we have it – in just over a fortnight I will know one way or the other, I will know which path my life is going to take.