It was a long drive down the interstate in deplorable weather conditions. The big rigs with which I once made my living threw up big sprays and mists of water where you could barely see the road if you got behind them.
“This is dangerous,” My mother said.
“Yeah, I know. I can’t see shit,” I replied checking to make sure the windshield wipers were on their highest speed.
Mom decided to tag along as she wanted to go by the bookstore and then go get something to eat. She was very quiet today and I think she was just glad to get out of the house. I tried my best to make small talk on the drive down to Opelika.
“I feel comfortable with you where I don’t with dad,” I told her.
“I wish your brother and sister felt the same,” Mom replied.
“Ah, don’t worry about them,” I said. “They are silly.”
It only took fifteen minutes to see my psychiatrist. She is usually a very reserved woman of Indian descent. She was very chipper today and abnormally sociable and talkative.
“So, how are you?” She asked as we sat down in her office with a big smile upon her face.
I crossed my legs and made myself comfortable as I clasped my hands in front of my chest.
“I am feeling pretty good these days,” I replied.
“No drinking beer?”
“No, I haven’t had a drink in quite a while.”
“That is why you are doing so well,” My doctor replied gleefully. “Your medications can’t work well when you drink alcohol. Drinking will depress you and exacerbate your symptoms.”
God, I didn’t need another lecture from her on the drinking front. I just sat politely as I smiled and listened thinking, “Come on. Let’s move on. I have heard this lecture a thousand times.”
My psychiatrist was concerned that I will be spending Christmas alone this year away from my family. She had asked me what I was going to do for the holidays. My parents and sister are flying out to San Diego to spend Christmas with my brother and his family. I couldn’t afford a ticket.
“I think Carolyn and I will spend Christmas and the New Year together,” I finally said to assuage her worries.
“So, is this the woman you are seeing?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“It is good you have someone so special to spend Christmas with,” She remarked as she made notes upon my charts.
I didn’t mention our hellacious fight last night on the phone.
My psychiatrist continued my current dosages of medicine and we shook hands good bye. I and Mom drove on up to eat and then swung by the bookstore. I bought a Railroad Model Craftsman and a Trains magazine. Mom bought a few paperback books to read. It was then a long and quiet ride back up the interstate in a blinding rain to home.