A’m in the doctors, tryin no tae look at aw the posters aboot rape crisis, HIV/AIDS n prostate cancer cos they’re makin me feel para. Ma eyes meet the filthy carpet tiles n the posters seem like a welcome change. A hate this fuckin place. Yi feel stricken wae a hunner fresh ailments n germs when yi walk in. It feels boggin n smells musty wae a subtle note ae cheap disinfectant. The waitin room is filled wae plastic chairs, mad eld things, orange n blue n faded. Weans’ toys scattered aboot a big plastic box. Wid A fuck let ma wean touch them. Think the cleaners clean them? Doubt it. Come in here wae a cold n leave wae MRSA. NHS cutbacks, int it? A don’t want tae accept panic attacks as an explanation. The healthy mind struggles tae admit it’s unhealthy. It’s no like breakin yir leg. Cos there’s nae shame in that. There’s nae stookie tae sign wae a cock n baws fur yir mind – so we limp on, cos ae stigma n fear n embarrassment n tryin tae act as if nuhin’s wrong. Then we drink tae self-medicate n kill ourselves n everybody wonders why.

The doctor offers a sympathetic smile. He gees me a wee printed sheet n shows me the door. Try this before yi speak tae a professional, long waitin lists n aw that. The doctor seems disinterested in everyhin A say. He just nods away n glances discreetly at his watch. It’s nearly lunchtime A suppose. He’s a fuckin bored prick thinkin aboot sandwiches. A thought A wis gonnae die last night n A’ve died a couple ae times every day, since ma first wan. A don’t know how tae convey ma fear n loathin tae him. A’m depressed, paranoid, panicky, chokin, frustrated n scared. He tells me no tae worry n gees us a fuckin handout tae look at wae breathin exercises. A’m ragin aboot it n it’s makin me worse. A kin feel anger buildin inside me but A feel like greetin. It’s a nightmare that A’m livin. Ma coping mechanisms tae life n stress ir drink n drugs. Ironically, they’ve got us in this fuckin mess. So where dae A turn? The natural reaction wis ma local friendly GP, n it wis the right move, but wit noo? Where dae A go? Who dae A turn tae? A know A should speak tae ma maw or anybody who’ll listen n let somebody intae this nightmare but A dunno how tae verbalise it. The doctor says ma heart is fine. Don’t worry, Alan, you’re young and healthy! It’s just mild anxiety n panic attacks. It feels overwhelmin. A’m a young Scottish male n A’m supposed tae be hard as nails. A’m a fuckin ticket n a YTP wan n A’ve git enemies n a hard shell but A’m broken underneath n A need help.