It's like training a dog.

My father recently decided to sit me down in his office. It's safe ground I think. I don't feel intimidated there. That office is safe ground for me anyway. For my fellow co-workers it's probably pretty terrifying. My dad has a way of dismantling people. I am not sure exactly what he does. He's brutally honest. He can say one sentence or one phrase about you that brings you to your knees. Many tears have been shed in that office. My father's gentle voice and calm demeanor -unlike any person I've ever met- can break the iciest of demeanors.

But not me. Not anymore. I expect these curve-balls as they come.

So he sat me down and we talked.

I think we both weren't surprised at either of our responses.

"I'm worried about your mental health"

"I know"

So there's that. 

In the end, he did the heavy lifting. He made the calls and chose the contacts. I merely spoke to a lovely woman named Terra on the phone and now I have an appointment on Monday. No harm, no foul. No one is uncomfortable here.

I have my first words planned out.