Trigger Warning: Contains mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts
"Alright. Here's what will happen. I go in there, I sit and wait for them to call my name. Then I walk right into that office, and I tell them exactly who I am, and that I am absolutely 100% normal and- ugh forget it …"
Gyro stared down his own reflection in the mirror of the coffee shop bathroom disdainfully, annoyed that his fifth self-delivered pep talk of the morning wasn't working. He probably had time to prepare a sixth or seventh one, but he didn't have the patience for it. And he was pretty sure there was a line of people waiting for the bathroom now, since he'd gone in fifteen minutes earlier.
He stepped out, not looking at all sorry for hogging the bathroom from the annoyed patrons, and walked out of the cafe, and down the street. His destination was about four blocks away.
His thought on the first block was that he would claim that he was being heavily inconvenienced by this whole matter, that this was not his idea, it was his cheapskate boss, or his stupid coworker, or the lady housekeeper he had tea with on Wednesdays who convinced him into this. But none of it would be true.
Second block, he wondered if it was too late to cancel the appointment. It was in twenty minutes, but surely they would understand that Gyro was a very smart man, and he was capable of analyzing himself. He had books! He had the internet! He could do his own research. But then it would be biased and he really wouldn't know for sure.
Third block, he decided if he couldn't cancel the appointment, he would at least make the effort to flip it around on those stupid whack-jobs and their brain-poker questions. He had a degree! How would they like it if he asked them questions about their childhood and emotions and made them talk on a couch!? But then he realized that just sounded stupid and childish.
Fourth block, he stopped in place right outside the building, and stared into the glass door. He could see his faint reflection once again.
Gyro couldn't exactly give himself a pep talk from here. And for some reason, his brain just didn't want him to. Instead, for once, for the first time today, the reality of the matter hit him. He wasn't coming here because a peer suggested it, or that he could figure it out himself, or that he could control what would happen.
He was coming here because he made this decision himself. Because it was probably going to be a better solution than carrying on as he did now.
He'd scheduled the appointment a week earlier after an incident involving work. It hadn't...in the big scheme of things, been that big of a deal now that he looked back on it. But it had resulted in him nearly screaming at a co-worker, and then later that night wishing sincerely that he was dead. Nothing else had happened, but Gyro then woke up that next morning, replaying everything in his head, and stunned at his own brain's activity. He'd have been fascinated if it weren't so confusing and horrifying...or if it hadn't been a recurring thing over the last several years.
He finally had to admit that he didn't get how one could jump from panic and frustration to wanting to be dead. It just wasn't logical. His brief scan of the internet on it had brought up results for various clinical depressive disorders.
How could I be depressed if I haven't even cried since I was eighteen years old? , Gyro had almost scoffed. But then he mentally repeated the question again with utmost sincerity and curiosity.
Gyro thought he knew everything, but yet here he was, unable to understand his own brain.
He didn't feel like he was helpless or struggling. He just felt incredibly confused and frustrated.
It's going to be fine , he told himself as he opened the door to go in the waiting room and was directed to his final destination, I just tell them I am coming across a recurring anomaly in my own brain activity and I'd like an explanation for it. Easy as pot-pie!
He was then sat in a comfortable chair, facing a woman at a desk with a clipboard. She had introduced herself.
Somehow, Gyro's mouth had made the words come out way more simplified than he'd been wanting.
"Hello. I'm Dr. Gyro Gearloose. I need help."
