A little new stuff from Maggie. Blood Ties That Bind: Volume six He writes on his pad again then looks back to me. “These are all classic signs of depression mixed with your anxiety disorder, Maggie. We need to even out your hormones and level your lipids.” He pulls out his RX pad and begins writing. When he finished he turns back to me. “Ok. Now. Tell me what has been happening in your life lately that could have triggered these events.” I begin to laugh. I laugh so hard that I slump over his desk and cry. I laugh because there is no possible way I will admit to even half the things that have happened with me over the past year or he would have me shackled to a bed with electro paddles to my temples. When the laughing dies down and I now feel like crying I lift my head and look at him pleadingly. I need help. I need help desperately if I have any hope of holding onto my sanity. With Niccolo leaving me, and Antonio professing God knows what my mind is officially blown. Checked out. Sayonara. He stares at me, waiting and I take several deep breaths. “Well, to start I had another baby and was diagnosed with uterine cancer then underwent two major surgeries back to back and then another to fix the mess. My son was kidnapped and nearly killed and my twins have grown Satan like tendencies most days.” I sigh exasperated but liberated at my admission. He finally speaks. “Well, that is more than any one person should deal with in a lifetime much less the span of a year.” He looks down and takes a cloth to clean his glasses. “Wow.” He says as he wipes the lenses. “Maggie, you have to find a happier place in your life. Something less stressful. A body cannot continue to endure the emotional and psychological traumas that you tend to gravitate toward. You will eventually breakdown and from what I see right mow you are teetering on the precipice.” He puts his glasses on. “You have to take control, Maggie. Make different, better choices, or the next time I see you, you may be in a straight jacket.” I search his face for any trace of humor but he is dead serious and I swallow hard. “Yes sir. I understand.” I whisper and stand from my chair. “He tears the prescriptions from the pad and hands them to me as he stands. “Take care of yourself, Maggie. Sometimes we are the only ones who can.”
Posted on: Sun, 22 Sep 2013 22:24:18 +0000
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