Train Wreck

Chapter Three: Him

Mary Thompson was the kind of therapist that always gave that 'trying too hard' smile. The kind that had that soft voice that sounded really fake. But I had some how managed to make myself an appointment with her. It was made the day I bumped into Nevada outside Mary's office. But as soon as I saw Nevada, I wanted so badly to cancel the appointment but it was the next day and it was only an hour.
I had sat in her office, waiting while she was out trying to find some type of papers. It was a small room, with a desk and a chair. By the window there was a small round table with two beige sofa chairs on either side with cushions that basically took up the whole chair. There were a couple of paintings hanging up on the wall. One of which was a random girl smiling and the quote 'You just need to breathe and smile', but it hadn't made me feel any better. I guess the purpose of the paintings was to cheer people up or make them feel more at peace but they seemed cliche to me.
I sat by the window and stared outside. The floor I was on was about 200 meters high, so I imagined me jumping out the window and flying, flying and then thunk... into the ground I go. I imagined the mess and the amount of work people would have to do to clean me up. Maybe jumping from a window is one of the most selfish ways of killing yourself. The amount of work people would have to do and by you jumping you're basically saying 'I don't give a fuck about you all, clean me up and get over it.'
Mary walked into the room in a rush and dropped the pile of papers she was holding. I could have gotten up to help her but I my legs couldn't move so I just sat there and stared. She giggled to herself and repeated 'Silly ol' me' and I couldn't help but wonder if she was really lonely. Mary eventually sat down across from me and just smiled. I looked at the floor, not wanting to smile back at her.
"So Roman, how are you today?" she asked in a tone that made her sound too interested. My stomach was twisting and turning and I began to feel like I was suffocating. I nodded to let her know I was 'okay' because I couldn't get my mouth to open. It wouldn't open.

"I understand you are here because you need help. And I am very happy that you were brave enough to ask for the help you need." The truth was, I don't really remember how I ended up making the appointment and how I got the courage to do so. In fact as soon as I left her office that day, I knew that I wasn't in my own mind when I made the appointment. I knew I had somehow been sleeping. Not literally of course. But in some way my mind was asleep.
"I think a good place to start with is by you telling me why you are here? What is the problem?" I looked up at her then at the wall behind her because maintaining eye contact with this woman wasn't something I was good at.
"Eh... well. I guess I'm just down," I muttered.

"Just down? Could you explain to me more in detail maybe?"
"I don't know. I'm always sad, my smiles aren't real and I find no pleasure in doing anything anymore," I admitted. The thing was, I knew I was depressed. But to admit to having depression can be extremely hard, because admitting to having a brain that doesn't function normally anymore, makes you feel weak and stupid and it makes you feel like you can't even be considered a human anymore.
"How is your sleep? Your eating?"
"Honestly, it's shit.I barely eat. Sleeping. Hmm, maybe one to three hours a night. If I'm lucky that is," I said, quite clearly too which I was surprised by. But I still refused to admit to my illness.
"It sounds to me like you may have depression. Can you understand that? Would that make sense of things?" she asked me as if I was stupid. I had been diagnosed with major depression five months ago. A month after it had all happened. I knew well that I had it, and yes, it did of course make sense to me. But I still couldn't admit it. I just nodded and then I looked at the clock and realised it's only been twenty painfully long minutes.
"I'm sorry, but I just realised I have somewhere to be. It's important. Sorry for wasting your time." Mary's smile fell to the floor quicker than a flash of lightning. She nodded and I ran out of there as fast as I could. My breathing got quicker by the second and I could feel a panic attack coming on. I looked at my surroundings. 'What is the colour of that wall over there?' I asked myself. 'It's black.'
I continued to ask myself questions and answer them but this technique wasn't helping me. Nevada. I wanted so bad in that moment to find her and talk to her. Get to know her. But I didn't get her number, she got mine. But as if she had somehow heard my thoughts, my phone began to vibrate and it was a random number, but I knew it was her. I could feel it.
"Hello!?" I had nearly shouted the word.
"Hey. It's, eh, Nevada. I just wanted to ask if we could grab that coffee this week maybe?" she was sniffling. It she sounded like she was crying.
"Yeah, yeah sure. Are you okay? You sound like you're crying."
"Just a cold. But okay cool. Could we meet maybe at that grungy cafe on 27th? On Friday at 2?" she asked me very softly.
"Yes, that sounds great." Nevada then hung up. She just disappeared without saying another word to me.
The weather was beginning to turn into a shit storm. Rain pitter pattered onto the street and created a shield around me. I liked the rain, though. I pulled up my grey hood to cover my saturated form. The small pellets of the soft rain spat at my hands. Families ran to find shelter from the rain trying to keep their children from the cold.
My emotions were running wild and I was starting to get frustrated because the voices in my head were getting too loud. I was happy for a brief moment because of Nevada. But those happy moments can go away quicker than you'd expect. Quicker than Usain Bolt. I wanted so badly to cut open my head and tear out those fucking voices. It was like being in a room with 20 people shouting different sentences. Then 20 other people banging things, clicking pens and clinking glasses etc. I knew the best thing to do was to go home and hide until this chaos went away. Or at least became less chaotic. I think it's impossible for this mess to go away. For I am the very definition of chaos. I am chaos.