“Hi, Jordan,” she says, closing the door behind her. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah. You too.”
It’s a lie. I like Dr. Briggs just fine, but I still don’t like that I have to be here. It’s unfair.
She doesn’t comment on how long it’s been. Just sits down and opens her laptop. After a few introductory questions, she folds her hands together, giving me her full attention. “So, tell me what’s been going on.”
I let my breath out slow, willing my body to relax. “I think I need a change. Med-wise, I mean.”
There. I said it.
Dr. Briggs’ expression remains neutral. “Okay. What makes you feel that way?”
She allows me the time to think and choose my words carefully, which is good, because my brain feels like it’s moving too fast yet slogging through wet sand all at the same time.
“I’m not in crisis,” I say finally. “I’m not spiraling or anything. But the darkness—the sadness, I mean, it’s lingering. I think it’s always been there, to be honest. Even with what I’m on.”
“Okay. Do you think the meds have helped at all?”
“Some, yeah. But I’m… numb most days. Like I’m underwater? Everything’s muffled.”
“You struggle to focus?”
“No, I’m functioning, but I’m faking a lot of things.” Or, I was. When Miles came to visit, I had an unusually long string of happy moments. “Most of the time, anyway. I know I’m capable of joy now, but it doesn’t… stick.”
Dr. Briggs nods, quickly typing something into the computer. “That sounds exhausting.”
“It is. I just want to be happier, more often.” I glance away, digging a thumb into my other palm. “Also, the, um... sexual side effects? They’re becoming a problem.”
Her silence is warm, and when I glance up, she nods encouragingly. Like it’s nothing she hasn’t heard before.
“Thank you for bringing that up. Has the change been recent?”
“No. I think maybe it was always there, but I’m noticing them now.” My throat feels tight, but I continue on. “Sex wasn’t… I mean, I’ve never been super interested in it. I thought it was just me, you know. Like I didn’t need it. But now... now there’s someone in my life who makes me want it. All the time. And I feel the urge, but I can’t act on it. I don’t know if that makes sense.”
Dr. Briggs turns away from the laptop. “That’s more common than you think. And it’s frustrating, especially when you’re trying to build a relationship with someone. Have you been able to be aroused? Or ejaculate?”
My cheeks heat, but I force myself to answer. “Yes.”
“Was it difficult, though? Did you force it?”
I think back. “Sometimes I struggled, but sometimes it came easily too. The will is there, but the urge to act on it isn’t. Not when I want it to be. It’s like I’m held under and can’t move.”
“So it’s more the lack of energy to act, than the actual lack of desire?”
“Yes, exactly. Like I said, it’s there, but it doesn’t stick. The arousal or the joy. It goes away so fast.”
She nods. “Well, you’re not alone in that. Some patients say they feel they actually repel joy, because it is so rare.”
I scoff, nodding once. “That’s exactly how it feels, yeah.”
“Well, it’s not true,” she says with a warm smile. “It just means we need to make some changes, so I’m glad you came in. We can try a new medication. There are a few options with a lower risk of sexual side effects. Or even a combination approach, depending on how your brain responds.”
“I don’t want to start over entirely,” I say quickly as fear rushes in. “I can’t go back to that dark place.I can’t.”
Dr. Briggs reaches for my arm. “I hear you, Jordan. I don’t want that either. Have you been back there at all since our last visit?”
“No.”
