"Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale"

She says to me, shaking her head in distaste.

"You're not trying hard enough. Do you even care if you get better? Back straight! Eyes closed! Again!"

"Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale"

To be honest, I don't even remember the last time I had a panic attack. Surely I must be in some kind of mental anguish if I keep coming here. All I have to do is get my prescription and walk out. Easy, right?

"Here's a prescription for your Xanax. Follow the instructions carefully and don't abuse how many you take"

Doctor’s always get huffy about not wanting to see you sooner than they have to. They really like to chalk everything up to being “in your head” and if you were to submit any type of research to their attention, it’s useless.

“Well, maybe you should go to college for 10 years”
“Perhaps then you’d have a bit more of a medical background to backup all those internet claims whose unending expertise of hypochondria can so easily be cured by coconut oil and yoga”

I’m not sure what’s more worth it anymore. Being a constant walk-in, or just walk-out completely.