SMU Diary

Today’s visit to the health center on New National Depression Screening Day for my free screening ended up being an unexpected relief.

It gave me the opportunity to deal with my feelings, and confront my emotions.

It wasn’t eerily quiet or unusually loud as I strolled toward the health center. The lawn mowers and leaf-blowers didn’t halt as I passed. Everything went on as if it were all normal. Life continued around me.

The onset of fall semester brings chilly weather and, for me, frequent visits to the health center with my usual cold bug.

So I couldn’t lie and say I was unable to find the place in time.

I could run to my room, hide under the covers, unplug my phone and tune into to the tube, but then I’d never deal with the problem.

Besides, before I knew it, I was filling out the depression screening form, and being greeted by a stranger with a sincere smile.

After being escorted to a blah beige-colored room, and sitting on “the couch,” I immediately thought of the cliché#233; of sitting in my therapist’s office as a troubled celebrity who is overwhelmed with all of her success.

I wasn’t entirely at ease sitting across from the soft-spoken counselor, but as I talked, and she simply listened as I poured out my heart, my ease grew.

I didn’t lie down, although she said I could. I sat with my back arched, and made eye contact.

At that moment, I was comforted. A woman, who was unknowingly dressed in my favorite color, periwinkle, helped me deal with the grief I’ve faced since my friend’s suicide last month.

Of course I didn’t want to deal with Sept. 11 like everyone else, but just days before its anniversary I was hit with the devastating news of his death.

My first response was shock. I quickly wondered whether there was anything I could have done to prevent it, but I hadn’t noticed any red flags of suicidal behavior.

Then I told myself to just keep busy, and I’d find time to deal with it. But I didn’t, and it’s been eating at me ever since.

At the end of my session I wasn’t diagnosed with depression. I was diagnosed of being in a grieving state.

Ultimately I learned that seeking help in therapy doesn’t mean that you’re mentally ill. Sometimes it just helps to have someone listen.

You just have to give yourself time to breathe and deal.

I’m glad I did.