Recently my back has hurting a whole lot. Its been going on for about 3 months now, at times I think it is my stress, other times I think its my muscles acting up. Last night I fell into a deep depression, again. I tossed and turned all night, the pain was unbearable and i was already depressed to begin with. I thought to myself that if the pain is any worse, I’ll tell my dad to take me to the clinic, and for them to check to see what was wrong with me; all though i do want my back pain to go away – i secretly planned what i should tell the doctor tomorrow morning. Through my sadness and my pain, I eventually cried myself to sleep. This morning when i woke up, i felt no better. My eyes were dry from crying all night, and my back was sore. I told my dad that i couldn’t take the pain anymore, and he said he would schedule me an appointment. As I waited at my dads work, I became very over whelmed; I became very nervous and anxious, I knew it – today was the day, I had to go through with my plan. I went to work for a couple of hours, and then left to the clinic with my dad for my 10:00 am appointment. While I waited at the waiting room, I told my dad that he should remain in waiting room, and if I need him, then I’ll call him. He approved. When I was called in some lady checked my height, weight, and blood pressure. My heart was beating so fast that my blood pressure was high; I told the lady that I was slightly nervous, and she said confidently “you shouldn’t be anxious around me.” I repeated to her “ yeah, I know… I just get anxious for everything.” I was trying to let off a hint that I may have anxiety / depression. I’m trying secretly, but slowly to let people in, and know that I am suffering. * NOTE * this is all new to me, I have never told anyone about my depression except for the people who know on Depression Tribe. The lady sat down by her desk and recorded all my information, then she blurted out “so what have you been doing this summer?” I explained to her that I work at a day care with children; she told me that she use to work there, and that her daughter had put in an application to work there as well. She settled back down from our ironic conversation, then she asked: “why do you think your back hurts?” I looked at her & shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t know, maybe because I have poor posture.” My voice began to crack slightly. “Or maybe it’s stress … “ The lady’s response was “ Lately have you been feeling depressed, or hopeless? Don’t worry, it’s just a question,” I thought to myself, YES! Finally! I’m getting through to someone! But I wish I could say that out loud. I stuttered on that question. I waved my hands around and said, “Well, not really, sometimes.” I HATE MY SELF, I HATE MY SELF, I HATE MY SELF. Why am I a retard? Really. I came this far and my response is “not really”. REALLY, ELLIE!? What the hell is wrong with you? I stare at the lady while she records what I just said, and then she says, “Recently, have you lost interest in things you love?” I didn’t want to mess up with this question, so I promptly said “yes” but my reply was interrupted with her saying: “well of course you have, you have a summer job, you probably aren’t interested in doing much.” Great, I finally say something that might make her think ‘oh, this girl might be depressed!’ but she is to darn distracted by my job. After the lady was done writing down stuff that I was saying, she grabbed the papers and led me to Dr. Launce’s office. She pointed to the blue hospital bed thing. “Dr. Launce will be here soon. You can sit down on the bed if you’d like” I nodded, and she disappeared. I waited a mere 7 minutes, which felt like an eternity. I found myself sitting on the bed with my head on my lap, holding my head, Dr. Launce appeared in the room. “Hi, Leonor, how are you doing today? What is wrong with your back?” I was partially spaced out, and then I came back to earth. I felt like I was hypnotized. “I don’t even know, I don’t even know anymore…” I whispered. “Where does it hurt?” Dr. Launce sounded concerned. We did a couple of breathing techniques, and she felt around my back to see where I was hurting. “So, what do you think is the cause of your pain?” Dr. Launce blurted out. “Either poor posture, or stress.” This time I was confident in what I was saying. Then Dr. Launce asked me a question. This question scared the living daylights out of me. I wasn’t ready, or prepared for it. “Would you like to talk about your stress?” My throat started closing up. I started messing with my hands. “No” I said softly. Tears began to roll down my cheats. There it was, it’s happening now, I’ve waited for this day, and I need to do what I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I cried, I cried so much I was embarrassed on how weak I was. She asked me several questions including: “do you fear that you will be abused? Do you have any friends? Who do you feel comfortable with? How long have you felt this way? Ect. ” I told her about how I’m always anxious, depressed, scared, and stressed. Then she told me that she had to tell my dad about the way I’ve been feeling. So many thoughts ran through my mind, my life would never be the same again. I tried my best to show her that I don’t want my parents to figure out the way I feel, she advised that it was best if she told them. She informed me that he could come in and talk to her and I about my “problems”, or she can take him into another room and talk to him. Of course, she took him into another room. After five minutes passed by I threw my drenched tissues away, and grabbed some clean fresh ones, I sat in the quite waiting room, all you could here was me, sniffling. My dad came out of the room with a piece of paper in his hand, I looked at him, I didn’t know what to say. He told me that Dr. Launce prescribed me some medicine for my back. Once we claimed the medicine, we walked out of the clinic; he said “Dr. Launce gave me a list of names and phone numbers for people you can talk to about your problems.” My dad didn’t seem pleased about the whole situation. I don’t know why he thinks I have no problems at all. All that he was mainly worried about was what I had told Dr. Launce, my father doesn’t like to feel clueless and unaware of situations. My dad dropped me back at work, and the word got around fast, about 20 minutes into work I found my mom calling me. She asked me if I was okay, she told me that she loved me, and once she comes back home (she’s in Texas, visiting my sick Grandma, she’s coming back tomorrow) we will have a ‘talk’. Well I wonder what is to happen tomorrow, it’s bedtime now. I kind of feel good for expressing my self, but my part of the world … well… that will never be the same anymore.