Metamorphosis: Chapter 11
| May 23, 2023Finally, I had an evaluation with a professional to see what was wrong with me. I did not enjoy it.
Maybe, really, I don’t need therapy? Maybe I should just back off before they force me to go to therapy. I feel like I’m on a swinging bridge, first swinging one way, then the other. But help! I don’t know which way to go.
Did it all just vanish? What happened to all the anxiety? Is it gone forever?
Should I go tell my mother that she doesn’t have to worry and I’m fine now? She’ll be so happy.
Everything around me is hazy. I’m stuck in this hurricane of confusion. I can’t bring myself to do anything. Without thinking, my feet take me to bed. I crawl under my blanket and block everything out.
Baruch Hashem, I feel so much better, I think, as my alarm rings. I blink and sit up. The sun glares into my eyes together with the knowledge that I really and truly need help, and I can’t do this on my own.
I’m glad that at least I have my direction clear again.
Then my stomach drops. It’s because I know no one will be able to help me. Probably no one has such crazy thoughts like I do. I bury myself in my blanket. I don’t want to get up, ever.
But then I see Hope. Hope is this lantern glowing in this darkest darkness. It’s telling me that I’ll find a place of light one day. So I get up.
I feel emotionally wrecked. What didn’t happen the past few days? First, I argued with my parents because after they decided that we could go through with therapy, I wanted them to move faster. Then I felt guilty so I snapped at my sister. Then my feelings doubled and I couldn’t get rid of the guilt, so I went around apologizing to everyone a million times but I still felt bad. Then I just felt sad and alone so I cried for hours. No one was understanding me so I cried harder. I ignored all of Ahuva’s and Chavala’s calls.
This was all over Shabbos and Sunday. Then I had to go to school. The facade of normalcy I put on was wearing thin but I was desperately clinging to it for dear life. It would be the end of the world if anyone realized that I was crazy.
Finally, I had an evaluation with a professional to see what was wrong with me. I did not enjoy it.
She diagnosed me with OCD. After all of the recent volcanoes and tornadoes, I can’t think. I just want to sleep and so I do.
I hate that Dini, my older sister, knows something’s going on. It’s not that anyone told her. It was inevitable that she would pick it up. Today, I decided to take off from school and my mother agreed. I had no emotional energy left. So now, as I’m lounging around on the couch, Dini’s bustling around with her stuff and not buying that I “must have a virus or something.” She keeps giving me these patented “Dini” looks, like “I’m so curious and I don’t believe you, but I won’t lower myself to ask.”
I get up and hide in the kitchen until she leaves.
I think that later I’ll feel up to talking to Chavala. I’ll tell her everything that’s going on. She deserves to know after all she did to help me, and hopefully she’ll help support me in school.
I’m in school and I actually feel secure for a change. Chavala is so understanding and Miss Lev is there for me whenever I need. I finger the paper with her number that she gave me. I just had a conversation with her during lunch. She’s one of the kindest people ever. Also, my father told me that they have a couple of leads for therapists. I am starting to see a glimmer of hope in my life.
A tap on my shoulder. “Coming to practice?”
Oh, it’s Shaindy. She’s very tactile. I rouse myself from my reverie and turn around. “Of course I’m coming.”
to be continued…
(Originally featured in Teen, Issue 97)
Oops! We could not locate your form.