Okay ! Not one of my proudest post or not something many would like to share. Despite people saying there is no shame in asking for help, the thought of you crumbling under your own thoughts, drowning in it is never easy. So I don't know how I would put it. It was a normal day in every way, but not in my head. I was sweating, and fighting in my head. I have never been the one to accept myself as a weak person but there I was driving to a stranger specifically to tell them how weak I was and all my deep rooted problems.
When I got there, I was greeted by someone at the door. "Sir is in his room" she said, "he will be ready for you in 5 minutes". My anxiety only grew. I could see the blue walls of the room, the couch in his office seemed rather cozy. It looked new as if I was the first person to sit on it. The lady came near me and with a soft voice said "You can go inside". I stepped in and it was almost an empty room with two Sofas facing each other. Two glasses of water, a pen and a paper and long red curtains with white flowers on it.
I did not know what to do next. This was all like a movie to me. I had seen so many movies with such setting. I came to realization, no matter how interesting it looks on a screen, when you sit in front of someone to bare yourself, root and stem; you can not. For someone who loved to talk a lot and befriend strangers, I was no more than clutching straws trying to find my voice which eluded me. "Hello Doctor", I said. He smiled. "Hello", he replied back. "I was waiting for you to speak and you don''t have to call me doctor. I am not here to treat you".
This surprised me. Was I not there to be better ? I knew there was something wrong with me. But this guy just told me he is not going to treat me. I hadn't even looked at him properly. I was looking at the table with two glasses of water and a vase. I started counting the symmetrical outlines on the vase when he suddenly said, "Sajak, can I call you Sajak ? I am not here to treat you because you are not sick. You have no disease and I am not a doctor". This made sense to me on a certain level, but I insisted I called him doctor at least for the day.
I was still not sure what to tell him and he sat there. I could feel his eyes on me while I kept my eyes fixed on the glasses and the vase. I was flushed like I always do. My cheeks turn red, my heart started beating faster and I finally managed to look at him. He was probably 7-8 years older than me. Still in his early 30's was my bet. He wore a glass, had short hair and had a pleasant smile. "So, why does a person who looks so cool is here? You should be out with your friends.", he said. I smiled still trying to find what do I say. "I am not usually this quiet, I just can't muster up words", I managed to construct my first decent sentence. "This is very common Sajak. We humans have grown so much, we have stopped thinking that may be we need someone to help us. What do you do ?", he asked me. "I am a software developer I said". He wasn't surprised. People so often guess my profession from my appearance and I was there in front of someone whose job is to read people.
"Do you have hobbies?" He asked. I could see now he was trying to get me comfortable. He wanted me to speak and I nodded. "Yes, I write poems", I said. I didn't find surprise in his look. It looked like he knew me before I was there. May be he just researched on his patient, I said to myself. Now I could see why he had the pen and paper in the table. He slowly picked the paper. "What do you usually write about", he asked. I replied pretty vaguely as there is nothing specific I write about. "Would you like to write something now", he said. I was sure of this the moment he picked the paper. I didn't know what to say. He handed me the paper and said, "Sajak I want you to write about how you feel.".
I didn't know what to respond. I just picked up the pen and first time in life I was lost for words. I always used to have at least a start; A word or a line. And there I sat, blank and lost for words. I struggled for a while until I wrote few lines and then it came slowly. I could see he was smiling watching me write. I put the pen down when I finished and he said, "Would you like to read it to me?". I had never been the one for recitation. I tried to muster sound beneath a muffled tone that could almost break down into tears. He listened to it and then I heard him clap at the end. I did not understand if it was a consolation or he actually liked it. I hated what I write and wouldn't have gone ahead if I wasn't there. "The first big step is accepting and telling yourself", he said. "Once you do that, the rest will come with time". He gave a slight look to the watch.
I knew my time was almost up. "Sajak, I don't know if you plan on coming again. I would love to read more from you. I hope you bring the talkative person in you the next time you come", he said. "Write something about today", when you come back he added. I nodded. I thanked him, paid the cash to the lovely lady outside and picked up my stuffs to leave. I almost broke into tears when I stepped outside. I went through plethora of emotions and continuously looked for reasons to no come back. I was still fighting denial and here I am now writing what he asked me to. I don't know if I would go see him again but here I am almost midnight, with hands shaking accepting that I no matter how tough I may look on the outside, is aching to be saved.