Telling The Truth

Today I sat in the waiting room of my doctor's office. debating whether or not to tell him something I have to tell someone. After an hour I decide to keep it to myself. I'm sitting there face to face with him. He's running through the symptoms of depression. I nod to almost every one. When he gets to the last one he assumes that I won't nod.

"And feelings of wanting to others or yourself. Not that you ever would but the feelings are there."

I nod. His face slackens. He asks me how I think about it. I don't tell him the whole truth. I tell him it's when I'm crying hard that it gets really bad. That much is true. He thinks this is new. He thinks this started when everything else did. I tell him that when it gets really bad I get an intense craving to cut myself. He's the only person I've ever told this. It started about a year and a half ago. I've managed to stop myself every time. I tried to tell someone else once. A while ago it was on the tip of my tongue and I just couldn't get it out. Today it came out easily. I couldn't look him in the eye and my voice was shaking but I finally told someone. He explains what this feeling is. Like I haven't agonized over every reason, every excuse. When I leave it's with a new prescription in my pocket and the sun is shining.

It's beautiful outside and I walk home.

today was a good day.