The referral at long last went through. The 6th was an interesting day. Like the day before it, I woke at 6 AM, pulled myself out of bed in a minor panic, worried Id overslept and was now late for something. I checked the clock and was promptly annoyed and relieved at having the extra time to sleep. After 8 AM passed and I woke once more, my guts began contorting themselves again. I turned to breakfast to distract myself, and this worked for a time. But when my mother returned from town and the return trip began to loom, the blessed internals begin twisting anew.
The visit to the clinic itself was a constant stream of tension for me. I filled out the forms the front desk had handed me with my face feeling ever-so flushed, I tried in vain to relax with the book I had brought along with me. I averaged ten words a minute, if even that, and felt like I was a degree or two short of combusting and melting down onto the pages.
Once I was filtered through to a staffer, that tension eased ever so slightly. She asked me about what I had written on the paper with regards to my being there (gender identity issues, acceptance), I elaborated in the few words I could comfortably utter. I summarized briefly my habits of suppressing gestures, mannerisms, and the way I carried myself, and how I borrowed these things from other people, and how in general I had never really felt like a man. Suicide was understandably brought up, and I responded honestly that attempts had never been a feature of my past, though thoughts did occur now and again. Overall, she was very accommodating and kind, passing on helpful printouts and information within minutes of my being there. She told me that Id be added to the wait list for a doctor, and that the wait time would usually be no less than a month. She asked if I would be okay in that time, and I responded that I thought I would be. She further advised me to keep my name on the list even if I began to feel stressed about it, to at the very least make it in for one appointment.
I wish Id had more questions I could have raised at the time, but it was nerve-wracking enough to have walked through that clinics doors alone, to stew in my fears and apprehensions in that lobby, and to screw up my courage to talk frankly about these things with a person Id only known for fifteen minutes. To her credit, she did her job well and handled this scared woman admirably. The tension eased off to background levels at that point. I wasnt jubilant, but my mind was also no longer racing at three times its usual clip and my body was now shedding some of its signs of stress. Intentional or otherwise, an overclocked brain is a tired brain at the end of the day.
Since the clinic visit, Ive mentally vacillated at times. Its only been a week and some change, but Ive bounced between various notions and thoughts about this whole waiting process. At times I feel time slowing to a crawl, the prospect of waiting seems so much longer than it would be objectively speaking. At others I just feel overwhelmed and want to call in to have my name taken off the list, to indulge in the proverbial crawl under my rock option. But I suppose you could say Im past the point where I could make that choice and live with it. I remember what the woman in Intake said, the encouragement and the urging of the gals around here, and I do my best to take it all to heart.
It all scares and overwhelms me at times, and this is so far removed from my comfort zone that I wouldnt have thought myself capable of it mere months ago... and frankly, I still find the thought of myself screwing the guts up and walking through those doors again a little incredulous. Speaking of comfort zones, Ive never laid a single foot inside the office of a psychiatrist, counsellor, or the like. As real-life confidants go, Ive never trusted another soul with what even approaches a comprehensive life story, and being just how much of that goes unsaid, unexpressed, and hidden outright, its no small step for me to sit down and unpackage everything. But it has to be done. For all the insidious doubts and stifling questions, for all the hand tremors and temperature meltdowns, I think Im finally ready to push through the fear and walk through that door.