Monday, 9 March 2020

"...Tiptoe if you must, but take the step..." - Naeem Callaway

Well, I made the call.

And I either need to put my big girl panties on and suck it up. Or give myself some grace.

Maybe both.

Because I did not want to make that call. I've been avoiding it for oh...5 weeks or so (plus or minus a few years...). I couldn't even bring myself to actually call, but there was a messenger type chat option to book appointments so I took that route. Just asking me the general info and using the words "what can we help you with" and I could feel my back getting up. As I typed the words including  "self esteem", "body image", "breast cancer" I was cringing. (I'm cringing again now retyping it) I didn't mention it's been almost 6 years since I was diagnosed. Or that its been over 3 since my last surgery.

I asked if they have anyone who specializes in cancer survivors, which was a suggestion from a friend that reached out yesterday. They don't. The counselors are all general. Ug.

She finally typed back: so you are looking to talk to someone about self esteem and body image/breast cancer?

It felt ridiculous to be saying I need to talk to someone about my self esteem. Or breast cancer (like I haven't had so many conversations about that).

So I added "I've binge drank some to avoid dealing with this".

And as I looked at all those words sitting in the chat box, I wondered if my being was really reduced to those few words. I felt ashamed. I felt stupid. I felt overwhelmed. It was so much more complicated than those stupid words. It took everything in me not to type "nevermind" and close the chat box.

I wanted to cry.

Some part of me thought I'd probably feel better after making an appointment with a psychologist. 

But I didn't.

Yesterday after I posted my blog, I felt better. Just like a teeny, tiny weight was lifted off my shoulders. That regardless of of how bad of a friend I've been, how many times I've flaked and alienated myself, I still find myself surrounded by friends who forgive me and care. It was another step forward.

But after booking the appointment, I felt emotional. Like the box I've been trying so hard to keep closed opened ever so slightly. 

I didn't like it. 

It's one thing to say you're gonna do the hard things. It's another thing entirely to actually do them. 

And booking that appointment was so much harder than I thought it would be....

...But I booked it.

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