The Other Me
‘Hello, Panic, My Old Friend’ vi. Dr Jarasinghe was a small, serene man in his forties. Sometimes, that serenity seemed cavalier. I saw him in a clinic about a five minute drive from where I lived, although that was an adventure in itself. As with my GP’s clinic, I assured myself that if I had any episode, at least I’d be in the right place. Still, I wanted to get there as quick as possible, and home as quick as possible. Anywhere in-between was unsafe. In our first session together Dr Jarasinghe took all my history. He said that my recent drinking might’ve buried my anxiety, but now that I…
The Other Me
‘Hello, Panic, My Old Friend’ iii. My twelve-year-old cousin started playing indoor cricket and his mum asked me to take him to the Centre. I didn’t know how to say no. But I didn’t know how I could say yes. I couldn’t go out. I told myself that it was just the Centre, where I’d gone hundreds of times. But those hundreds of times I could always leave. Now I’d be anchored there. What happened if I had problems? What would happen to him? What would happen to me? The first game I took him to, I felt fine on the drive up as he yapped away. Once we got…