All The Small Things

126

Guys, DO NOT use this chapter to self diagnose. I know diagnosis is a privilege, but I barely know what I'm talking about because I'm not talking from a doctors standpoint. Enjoy the chapter, tho.

[Luca POV]

"What did you say?" I asked Justin as he re-adjusted himself in his chair.
"It's so we can diagnose you. See for sure what you do and don't have so I don't have to keep guessing with what meds I should put you on to try," He explained. The trip to the office it was happening at was just over an hour away, but Justin said our insurance would cover the costs, so Jacob agreed. We also were told it could take anywhere from four to seven hours, so we would most likely wanna bring snacks and drinks for when there's a break. The morning of, probably an hour before my appointment, Jacob stopped at the dollar store to find snacks for me to have. I didn't know what I wanted, so he helped me find something I'd like.

"Do you want pop or juice?" Jacob asked as we stood by the refrigerators.
"Umm... juice," I decided, braiding a very small section of the front of my hair. It was just something for my hands to do. The one I got was just like pineapple, cranberry, mango, and something else I don't remember. Jacob also picked up gummie sharks, jerky, crackers, and a yogurt I had to eat for breakfast in the truck. Jacob's also got an entire pack of plastic spoons in his glove compartment. Why? I have no God damn idea. But, I ate it and listened to my music through my headphones on the drive up.

When we pulled up to the lady's office, it was practically empty, and we were 10 minutes early.
"I don't wanna talk to her," I complained as I unbuckled anyway.
"You'll be okay. You got it, baby. I'll be in the waiting room," He reassured me as we walked in. There wasn't even a receptionist. Just the doctor herself. She double-checked my name and told me to follow her back, telling Jacob to just wait out here. I did what she asked, and she started with a little test on math, remembering shapes/patterns, and reading before getting into the main point of the appointment. She made me take a test with 100 and something questions, not even exaggerating. You could guess what some of the questions would link to which diagnosis. The aggressive and sudden mood swings are either BPD or Bipolar, the hallucinations are mainly skitzophrenia, the being unable to sit still is ADHD, the repeating patterns compulsivley is OCD, and the feeling depressed re-occuringly is MDD. There were many more types of questions, and even more that she asked me herself, but those were the most clear ones.

"Alrighty. These are just yes or no unless I ask you to explain. Okay?" She clarified, holding a pen over a clipboard. I nodded and tried to stop tapping my foot.
"Do you struggle to maintain eye contact?" She asked. Now that we were talking about it, I had to at least look at her for a split second. So that's all I did. I barely glanced at her before quickly looking away. I think it was just impulsive that I felt the need to look at her. I shrugged because I really didn't know.
"I-I mean, I don't like it, and I gotta think about how long to look at someone before I look away. And like if making eye contact would make it sound like I'm lying about what I'm saying. Or I gotta think about if it's a stranger, if they'll think I'm staring at them," I rambled. I didn't like it just thinking about it.
"So I'm gonna mark yes," She said to herself. "Would you prefer to stay alone at home or with someone you don't know too well, but you guys are friends?"

This question was confusing, to say the least.
"But who are they?" I asked. I need more to go off of.
"Just a friend you aren't super close with," She repeated. I didn't have an answer I felt was the proper response, but I needed to give her an answer, so I just told her by myself because hanging out with anyone is tiring.
"Okay, then. Do you feel like too many of your senses being used at once really upsets you?" She continued to ask.
"Like... if the lights are really bright and it's loud?" I asked to clarify what the hell she meant.
"Sure," She agreed. But I didn't like that answer that much. I nodded a little, trying to just answer what didn't make sense regardless.
"Well, let's say you go get dressed in the morning and your jeans fit, but they feel tight, and you can feel the tag, and it's not going how you want it to?" She suggested. The idea of the situation was icky to me.
"Cry," I answered automatically, subconsciously pulling my sweatpants away from my body. My whole body shivered, and I shook my hands because the idea of it lingered in my mind.