"Whatdid they mean when they said that?"
Foolishly,after shedding tears of regret, I can't seem to stop myself fromdoing it again. It's not too difficult to imagine why regret,frustration, and depression are all parts of my routine.
Eventually,friends turn into enemies or strangers. They do not understand me. Ido not understand myself. A simple two-minute conversation with apeer may haunt me endlessly throughout the day─sometimes throughoutthe weeks. The same conversation seems to remind me that I am anoutcast,
Andthis led to my visit with Dr. Katz, who spent fifty minutes with meearlier today in his office.
Hesat across the room from me while I forced a feeble smile─with thedoor closing behind me and my mom waiting uneasily out in thehallway. Dr. Katz then closed his eyes and listened to me talkingabout the anger, depression, and frustration that had tortured me.
Thenhe opened his eyes and began to speak.
"Ibelieve you are suffering from depression, and it's NOT your fault,"he said.
Dr.Katz then went on to ask me if I had heard of something called "brainchemical imbalance" that often causes mental disorders. I shookmy head. "That's what causes your depression. Fortunately, thereare medications to correct it," he assured me. Dr. Katz also letme know that I had suffered from a particular disorder, which causedme to replay unpleasant social situations in my mind over and overagain like a broken record.[!--empirenews.page--]
That'swhy I am standing here with my mom, waiting nervously for thepharmacist to fill my prescription. For the first time, I feel sortof hopeful and relieved because something can lead me back to anormal life. Then a gray-haired lady rings up my sale, and I stare atthe tiny little bottle that might hold hope for me.
Already,I cannot be too grateful to Dr. Katz. I believe our sessions togetherwill quiet something that has screamed inside of me. I wonder howmany other kids are out there who are suffering in silence just likeme. I think they should ask for help─just as I did.