Hey Look, Ma, I Hate It

“Mom, there’s something I need to tell you.” Keep breathing, you can do this.

“Sure, honey. Let me get you a plate.”

“No, Mom, I’m not hungry, I just need to talk.” Can you listen for a minute?

“Well, all you’ve eaten today has been junk food, I know what you keep up in that bedroom. Just because it’s cheese-flavored doesn’t mean it counts as protein.”

“Mom, please.” Wow.

“You need a balanced diet, and balancing stacks of dirty dishes on your dresser doesn’t count.”

“Mom.” Power through. “I took a quiz online and it said I may be depressed.”

“What did I tell you about believing what you read on the internet?”

“Well, it’s not a diagnosis, but I think I should see a doctor.” Come on, Mom, make eye contact.

“Oh.”

Why is that scarier? “Would you maybe be willing to help me make an appointment? It’s kinda overwhelming.”

“Honey, of course, I’ll help you.”

Oh thank goodness. “Thanks, Ma.”