Chapter 9

“When would be good for you?”

“Any day. Any afternoon.”

“How about Wednesday afternoon?”

I nodded again. Dr. Clarkson filled out a small appointment card and handed it to me.

“I’ll see you then,” he said with a quick smile.

I left the building feeling as though a great weight had been lifted. I looked at my homework. Each square on each day represented an hour. It was going to be tough to do that for a whole week 4

I filled out my mood diary diligently and whether it was the constant need to remember what I was doing and what I was feeling, or whether the meds were finally kicking in, I couldn’t say. All I could say was I was feeling a little more positive than I had been for the past few months. I said a little and I meant a little. There were still periods of gloom, dark thoughts, and a desire on most days to stay in bed with the covers pulled over my head, but even the briefest of breaks were like a breath of fresh air; a palpable relief from the weight of the black dog.