Anonyblog

i'm giving myself an ulcer, constantly

I had an appointment on Tuesday to see a counselor at the clinic due to some mental health survey I took a while back. I had been meaning to see one for a while, but when the man at the table in the makeshift cubicle took me to make an appointment, I chickened out. I had a real reason to not go, though, so I called them (and left my phone number as proof of my sincerity) and told them I couldn't go that morning.

They called me back, asking to reschedule and I told them I was busy with finals during this week and maybe sometime when winter term started? They said ok --what else could they do?

At times I find myself in the midst of depression; I like to think that it is for no particular reason, but once again it is the same old thing - something stupid like not being paid attention to or getting some inferiority complex about how my best friend from high school has more friends than I do or my fear of doing badly in school. I know that I am very much not past it; the only reason I am so happy this year is not because of some fundamental metamorphosis I went through the summer called "growing up," but rather the fact that I have finally found the friends I wanted, a group of nice people that like me and that I feel secure around. This has not solved the problem; the problem is an internal one that I must solve myself. So what do I hope to accomplish by going to these counselor sessions? Will they listen to my problems and will I consequently feel better after purging my thoughts and emotions to a professional? My fear is that I will feel compartmentalized; misunderstood - oh such teenage angst; and then there will be nothing to turn to after that.

What would I tell them? Ideally I would sit down on a couch and they would sit behind me and I would not see them and they would start off asking simple, perfect questions about everything I want to talk about. Do you have a boyfriend? What are you depressed about? What high school did you go to, and then they would blame my ultra-competitive high school for the pressure and stress and inferiority complex-ness it has caused me. They would note that I was very self-aware and not in denial, perhaps too self-aware. I would tell them about my inferiority complex about how people perceive me, perfection (despite the h-croo girl's inspirational talk about how perfection is disgusting, I do not fail in returning to it, day after day). It will not be easy, I know. Once I start going regularly, though, something good must come out of it. I am hardly crazy like the rest of them, anyway. The problem is getting myself to make the call.