Once we get back, Dan watches me as I call in to make an appointment with the psychologist. I try to tell myself it won't be that bad, but I'm still nervous that they'll put me on medication. I don't want to end up drugged up on chemicals, living in my own medicated world. Once again, I can't make videos. It just doesn't feel right, like there's no reason, no purpose. I was planning on making a video right after we got back, but that's not going to happen now. I sit at the table, stirring my coffee. Jet lag sucks.
It's a day after Greece, and no one caught on. Thank God, I don't know what I would do if that blew up on Tumblr. I've been waking up early recently, so Dan usually stumbles out of bed a few hours after me. Around ten, he comes in and makes himself some cereal.
"I swear," he says, "The best part about not living with Phil anymore is that you don't eat my cereal." I smile.
"I'm going to invite him over just so he can eat everything you own. Literally, everything. You won't know what to do." He rolls his eyes and sits down across from me, checking his phone.
I pull up Twitter on my own phone.
@watchmiarun: threatening to invite @amazingphil over just to eat dan's cereal.
Within seconds there are dozens of replies. Dan smiles. "Good one. How should I reply?" This is how most YouTuber replies work, especially if they're pretty close to each other.
"I dunno. Something Dan-like. Maybe mention a shiba or anime." Dan laughs and types at his screen, churning out a reply.
@danisnotonfire: @watchmiarun i will leave this house
I laugh and put away my phone. We're so dumb, but so are the fans. How they haven't caught on yet, I don't know. I finish up my second cup of coffee and put the mug in the sink. Someone gave it to me after a little live show I did with PJ and the gang. It has my name on it, in this fancy looking font. Pretty cool.
Our day goes about as usual, with Dan filming a little video per usual. I do a little cameo, talking some in the background when I deem it appropriate. It's Dan's video, of course, not mine, so it's not like I'm taking over. We eat grilled cheese for lunch, and I try to get some ideas down for a video, unsuccessfully. We tweet a few more times, I repost some stuff on Tumblr. Normal day, as usual, until the evening. That's when the appointment is.
I was lucky to get the spot that I did, on such a short notice. Since I am actually my own person, not just Dan Howell's girlfriend, I go by myself, navigating the streets of London based on Google Maps and my own memory. The place is a normal office building, with big glass windows and very little parking. Eventually I find a spot and go up in the lift.
The office itself is nice, not warm and not cold, just right. The walls are a pale grey and all the furniture is soft and covered in pillows.
"Mia Hatzidakis?" I tell the secretary, grabbing a mint from the bowl on the counter. She types into the computer and nods.
"Just a few minutes... Mia," she says, obviously avoiding trying to recreate my last name. I sit down on one of the fluffier looking chairs, twiddling my thumbs and trying not to get too nervous. An older woman with cat eye glasses comes out, holding an extra large mug of coffee.
"Mia?" she asks, looking around the room, even though I'm the only one there.
"Right here," I reply, standing up.
She smiles. "Just come with me." I follow her back into a smaller office, much darker than the waiting room. It almost reminds me of my bedroom at home, soft, comfy, warm. I sink into an armchair across from the psychiatrist. She sticks out her hand.
