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Thirty Six: Moment of bliss

Unable to control my fidgeting I pushed my nail beds back for the fourth time whilst my leg continued to bounce. To anyone sat here they could think I have an addiction or I'm in the withdrawal phase, but instead I am incredibly terrified. With Jim sat next to me asking I'm doing okay every few minutes I just nod knowing words would not be on my side as I try to phrase what is wrong with me in my own mind.

The intense bleep of the notice board chimes again, holding my breath as my heartbeat races too fast another name flashes by leaving me more nervous. "You're doing the right thing Ali." Jim nudges me lightly with a small smile yet I cannot fathom one reflecting his, my mouth remains low like my eyes.

I can hear others making casual conversation, talking about mundane things that no one cares for really but this is what we do, because we are normal; because they are normal. My foot continues to shake whilst I clench my hands together to stop them being so obvious. "Jim, I, I can't-" Before I had the opportunity to raise my voice above a mutter my name flashes across the screen.

Alison Sugg, room 12.

Apprehensively standing up I turn to face Jim who wears faith heavy in his eyes. He thinks it'll be fine, he always does. It is as if he has forgotten what he witnessed me go through back at my Mums, the state I was in there and then. That to him this is just easy for me to do, talk about it when this has been building up for years and years. I wish it was easy as the encouragement his eyes told mine. Turning my back to him I walk past the roaming eyes who all have varied thoughts on what could be wrong with me as they try and pinpoint it. It isn't physical, not the naked eye they probably think. Perhaps it is a disease? One shuffles in his seat, he thinks I'm contagious. I'm only contagious mentally as the thoughts spread like a wildfire with each step nearer room 12.

Taking a shallow breath I knock on the door and hearing a light voice greet me, meaning this is it. My body moves before my mind has the opportunity to process it as I see my Doctor in sight perched at his desk with his eyes on the monitor, already my documents appear on screen as I shut the door behind me. "Hi Alison, if you'd like to take a seat." He motions to the uncomfortable looking chair that haunts classrooms in schools.

Sitting down I rested my hands on my thighs, unable to keep them still as the silence grew around us as he clicked away with his mouse, typing things in before I had the opportunity to start talking. "So Alison," The Doctor turned to face me with that cautious smile, the one that makes a shiver spread through my spine. "how can we help today?" We? Who are the We in this situation?

Releasing a slow steady breath I focus on my shoes rather than his eyes. "You've seen my records right? So you probably know why I'm here." I speak clearly, wanting to get this over with quickly. My eyes glance his way as his cautious smile turns into a straight line.

"Have you had a stressful few months? You know it can be a trigger." He explained and I nodded, to say these past few months were a walk in the park would be a blatant lie unless the park was on fire and the ground was made of lava with people trying to grab me and hurt me whilst I melted into the fire. Then, then only then has these few months been a walk in the park.

"I'm aware of that it's just," All of my thoughts begin to crowd over each other, indecisive about what should claim the first spot on the podium to declare my problems. "I need something. I really need some new medication that'll stop them." Slowly I lift my hand up and tap my head, barely able to whisper the last few words needed to be said, "The voices."

He follows with a murmur and an understanding nod. Swivelling in his chair he moves closer towards me, "Okay Alison, I'm going to take a look at you one minute alright?" Nodding in response he runs through the same tests I had done last time, then the time before that.