I got an email from the shrink, he was using his personal email which was odd but the IP address matches some previous emails he sent from his home before. He says he wants to help me still, that he figures I ran off and wasn't kidnapped (though he doesn't mention if that is what anyone else thinks). He's no longer officially working my case but he says that he's more worried about my well being than being paid.
It is sweet of him, he's a good doctor I don't think I've ever thought anything different. He's the whole reason I started writing things down, to help sort through my thoughts. Sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. I'm not sure I'd have come to stare down the behemoth before me that is the feeling of uselessness and emptiness so quickly if I hadn't have been working so hard to put the storm of feelings and thought fragments into coherent sentences.
But I don't know if I can trust him. This could all be a ruse to try and catch me. I mean, I checked and he was reassigned to new work in San Diego but the idea that my own admitting weakness would be the thing to end my vacation is not something I can handle. In my previous life I couldn't even admit weakness to my own family. I lied before I admitted it just like I would do anything that would risk me crying in front of anyone. Just the idea of going to a psychiatrist was preposterious. I couldn't admit to having such faults.
Even now I still feel the shame of not being able to sort myself out. For considering writing back.
But if I am still staring down the emptiness next week I think I will email him and ask what one is supposed to do. What am I supposed to do with my whole life ahead of me, with so many more lives than my whole life looming darkly like a prison?
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