At the age of fourteen, Cleo had her first real doctor's appointment. Not like the usual checkups that you get every few months. This appointment was run by a day full of test and when it was finally over. The doctor, Cleo's mother and she sat silently in her office.
"I believe we know what's the problem is but I just have two last questions left, is that okay?"
"Yes," Cleo softly answered.
"During the past month, have you been bothered by little or pleasure to doing things,"
"Well, sort of. I just really feel tired and want to sleep a lot more,"
"Okay. During the past month, have you been bothered by feeling down or hopeless,"
"Well, you see I don't feel like I belong with my friends. So I guess," I fiddled with my fingers. The doctor nodded, she then took her mother out in the hall. Cleo felt like it has been hours but the time ticked slowly before they came back in.
"Cleo, we are going to put you on some special medication to make you feel better," the doctor said with a sad smile. Cleo didn't understand that she was diagnosed with chronic depression.
(If any of this seem wrong. I'm sorry I tried to research and found that those questions are used. But I'm not sure. Correct me if I'm wrong.)
