Apprehensive

I went to a new therapist today.

She is older.

She is much more blunt.

She is no nonsense.

She is an artist.

...I don't know what to think of her yet.

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But I am scared.

We talked for an hour.

It is expensive.

It is time-consuming.

I will have to tell someone my story again.

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I hate having to ask people for rides.

Even if I got my permit, someone would still have to go with me.

I can't afford this all on my own.

And on top of that...


...On top of that, this new therapist says I have been dealing with low-grade depression for a very long time. I need to be on mild medication. And I need to go to the doctor by next week, before our next appointment.

That means more phone calls (which I detest).

That means more money (that I can't really afford to spend).

That means new, scary substances in my body, the results of which I can't predict.

That means another ride (more rides). More begging.

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I am scared.

Anxious.

Apprehensive.

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This might be what I need. I might need to follow through and take care of business. I might need a no nonsense person in my life to yank me in the right direction.

This could be a good thing?

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This could also go very, very badly.