truth

L is for the way you look at me

(Charlie)
I've been sitting in Dr. Logan's office for about 20 minutes.
Today I have my first meeting withthe doctor. I'm nervous as hell, because I feel like this is gonna complicate things for me. All of this is so new to me... I feel like it's unfair to shane that he's stuck with me if I do have anything wrong.

I just got off work, and Shane has no idea I have this appointment today. If he did, he'd come running to save me... But this is my fight. He should have left. I'm not worth the time. I'm not worth anything.

AAAANNNNDDD now I'm back to feeling worthless. I feel like walking over to the nearest wall and banging my head into it. I just wanna fix myself. Now.

That's when a smooth, soft, calm voice shattered my peace and quiet.
"goodmorning, Charlotte, or is it Ms. Williams?" He asked politely, shaking my hand.

He was short, 5'7 at the most, older, with a beautiful, warm smile, and a slightly larger than average nose. He was the average older man, I guessed.

"Charlie's fine, thanks. Nice to meet you, Dr. Logan." I smiled, trying to pretend, as usual, that all was well.

He saw straight through my bull shit.
"You can stop smiling now, if you'd like. I know you're nervous, but I don't bite. And we're gonna have a long time to get to know each other, so no need to pretend." he laughed, looking as sincere as could be.

I laughed, remembering I was here to find out why I felt like this. Pretending everything was fine, defeated that purpose.

He glanced at his charts, flipping pages, reading as fast as he could, looking almost rushed.

"I see that both depression, and depressive bipolar were part of your parents lives. Do you know of anyone else in your family who had it? A grandparent, or aunt or uncle maybe?" He mumbled, looking at me with full attention.

I dropped his gaze, slightly ashamed.
I finally looked at him, trying not to sound weak.
"I don't know... I've never met them..." I smiled, feigning nonchalance.

He smiled back, knowing I was having a hard time admiting that to most.

"That's okay, we'll just run a few tests to understand better, which genetic triats you did, and didn't recieve." he tried to comfort me, patting my leg gently before flipping the page again.

"Um... Do you ever feel alone, or incapable of accomplishing your goals?" he asked softly, taking out his pen.

"uh... Sometimes." I mumbled, looking sheepishly at him.

"And when exactly did this start?" he asked, skipping to the point as quickly as possible.

I thought about it for a minute, looking down at my hands in shame.

"about six months ago... I had an ex who um... Well, he was abusive, and I left him... And around that time, I began to feel these... Things. I'm emotional like crazy. I get really happy, and then incredibly sad or angry. My mind races at night and I can't sleep. Sometimes I feel like I could throw a car, others I feel like I can't lift myself out of bed... I do things completely out of character, I get mood swings like crazy... I just don't know what to do anymore sometimes. I try to be strong... I always have been, but there's this guy, my boyfriend actually. He see's through me. He knows what I'm thinking... He loves me, and he deserves better... I'm broken." I finished, before blushing, realizing all the things I had unloaded on this man.

He looked unfazed my all of this, simply nodding and making a quick note on his chart before straightening up.

"well, I would like you to come back soon to talk more about all of this, but for today, I need to take some blood for tests, and then get a scan done for your concussion. I figured you might as well do that for your checkup today. Kill two birds with one stone?"
He smiled, looking me in the eye before walking out to call in a nurse.

"Thank you." I smiled, waiting until he came back with a small blood draw kit and a nurse to assist.

"This is a tourniquet, used to make your blood vessels pop out." the nurse explained more to herself than to me, obviously new to her job.

Dr. Logan smiled again, pulling out the board and handing it to me for myself to fill out instead of talking in front of the nurse. A gesture I appreciated very much.

She was mildly attractive, young, and very confused on how to hit a vain. After six stabs, Dr. Logan finally took the needly, politely sending her out to work on another patient.

"So, do you and your boyfriend live together? I need to ask to be sure you have a safe and secure support system." he looked focused on my arm as I nodded, holding my breath as he finally hit the vain that the nurse couldn't.

"Yeah, he's been my best friend since I was young." I smiled, remembering all of our late night talks on the phone and dorky inside jokes.

"Good." he mumbled, undoing the tourniquet and giving me a Bandaid.
"So I was also wondering if either of these could actually be cured?" I asked hopefully, looking at his smile falter.

My stomach dropped as he tried to find the right words to explain it.
"Neither as a known "cure," but both are manageable, if you are willing to try and control it." he answered, writing something else on my chart before giving me another "sweeter than sugar" smile.

"I'll have your results back by next week." he smiled, almost looking through me.

I thanked him, walking out of his office and out to my truck. I felt the darkness, alone and empty, slowly slipping away. Knowing I would atleast have answers, made everything easier.

But how do I tell shane I went without him?