Descent

Chapter 2- The Shadow People

   "So, next course of action. I'm officially ruling your diagnosis as severe anxiety disorder. We'll write you up a script and start you on a half dose for about a week, then up the dose to a full after that. It takes at least a month for the meds to take full affect, it will be up and down for a bit. You'll get to experience normal, or as close as you can get to a new normal, life, soon! It'll just take a little more patience. I'd like to see you back in a few weeks to check in on how you're feeling. Sound like a good idea?" Dr. Freuds pink rimmed glasses sit upon the bridge of her nose as she glances into my eyes slightly before looking down and penning a prescription onto the pad in her hands.

"So most if not all of it will finally go away?" I fidget nervously in the uncomfortable leather chair provided by the doctors office. You would think they'd make these more comfortable, since it's therapy and all.

"It's going to take some time, but eventually you'll only feel anxiety on a normal healthy level, instead of so extreme. Would you be interested in coming back monthly to discuss and unpack some of the reasons you may be feeling this way? It will take more than a few sessions, we don't want to overwhelm you."

"Umm sure." I reply, still feeling uneasy. Something about how sterile the office is, makes me feel disconnected in a way. As if I'm here, talking but not actually being taken seriously, just pacified. They see plenty of crazy people a day, I'm not special. Just a number. It took me years to finally gain the courage to make this appointment, however, and who am I to deny a medical professionals knowledge of mental health.

"Guinevere, remember, the shadow people are not real. It's just a mental trick played on you when you're in a panic. If you need emergency medication to help when things get really bad, we will help. We just have to take this course of action first. It's going to be okay." Her calm and steady professional voice sounds comforting, but there's still that disconnect.

"Yeah, okay. We'll try this." I give her a weak smile. Here's to new beginnings.

"Okay, well I'll see you in a few weeks, here's your prescription, and I wrote down times on this card for you to take to the front desk to make your appointment. It was great to see you today and I hope you have a good day! Call us if you have any questions or concerns!" She stands from her desk and smiles kindly, holding the papers out to me. I stand and take them gingerly and mumble a small thank you and smile as I turn towards the door.

I always feel so awkward walking through hospital or clinic hallways alone after appointments. Passing by nurses who are so used to the place it's like a second home to them, whilst I'm not sure which hallway they guided me down, and feel lost trying to find the entrance once more. Asking for help feels physically hard, like being exhausted after a workout and your body feels too heavy. So you just figure it out while awkwardly nodding at everyone you pass, praying you're going in the right direction.

Finally, the exit. Making an appointment is so easy because the doctor took care of it for me on the card she wrote. All I do is hand it over and wait until it's confirmed.

"Alrighty, you're all set! Thank you and have a great day we'll see you soon!" The receptionist smiles politely at me as I nod and finally proceed to outside.

The air outside is thick and humid, with a small breeze. Mid-walk to the car is when it hits me. The shock wears off. I'm not crazy. It's just anxiety. I'm going to be fixed. It's just medicine, but it's a fix. I'm not crazy. My whole life I've been told I'm crazy, it's not all real. Finally some answers.

My heart starts to feel lighter with each step. A contact high from being validated and for the first time in a very long time I feel hope.

Until the feeling creeps up again the further I walk from the building. The breeze stops. The foreboding prickle on the back of my neck telling me that something is watching me. Observing from the shadows.

I fasten my pace, my white Chevy Cruze  in sight.

Never run.

Never run is what my grandmother always told me. I was a child who was afraid of the dark. She told me there's nothing to be afraid of, whatever may be out there is more afraid of me than I am of them, but to never run. Never show fear. It gives them power.

Thinking back, that may be where it all started for me.

I've never gotten used to the ominous  feeling. Even during the day I feel shadows creeping closer. In my peripheral vision I sometimes swear I see shapes or silhouettes I can't explain. It's an anxiety response created by our brains, the doctor said.

Hopefully that rings true.

Right now I can imagine in my head a 7 foot tall shadow creature just walking behind my every step, every time I turn they mirror my movements or shrink so I can't see them. No one else notices because it's not there for them. It's there for me. Always for me.

The uneasy feeling gets thicker and thicker on my skin the closer I get to my vehicle. As soon as I'm within arms reach I unlock it and jump in, feeling relief when I realize the feeling is gone. Even with the hot damp air berating my face and making it sweat in seconds, because in my panic I forgot to use my key fob to start the car to cool it off as I neared, I still breathe deep sighs of relief that the heavy feeling is gone. I lock the doors behind me just in case, and look into my rear view mirror. Nothing is there.

Okay. "See, no biggie!" I say to my reflection.

"It's the middle of the day silly girl! Nothing is out to get you!"  I try to lighten the air by picking on myself.

I feel as if I am constantly saying the mantra of "You are crazy, calm down" just to justify my own feelings and fears.

After today I hope that changes.

As I pull my car out of the parking spot and head to the pharmacy I can't help but imagine that as I leave there are 20 shadow beings sitting on the lawn of the clinic watching me leave, silent, still, and waiting for my next move. I shake my head and brush off the shiver that runs down my spine. I do not dare look back.

Crazy. Anxiety. Whatever it is. It goes away soon. It's just a chemical imbalance.

Here's to a better tomorrow. No more shadow people. No more fear. A whole new Guinevere Adams.