Mac shrugged and shook his head. "Nah, my mom sent me to a guy when I was still in high school," which was only four years ago, "it's just anxiety, that's all. But anything I took for it made me feel completely out of my head - no control, you know? Made me feel worse than taking nothing at all." His hand raked through his hair again just before she reached out to do... whatever she was doing. He held as still as he could, holding his head just like so for her to prod around.
"Over-the-counter pain killers and the occasional bottle of tequila," he answered. "It works for a while until the hangover-migraine replaces the anxiety-migraine and it's sort of an endless cycle." Well, at least he was being honest and he figured that was the best thing to do with doctors anyhow. "Two weeks?" he asked. He'd have to stay in the city for two weeks? He hoped Adam didn't plan on getting rid of him any time soon. "Yeah, low-dose is fine. I'm not looking for anything major. And I can make it back in a couple of weeks."
Low dose would be just enough, he figured, to take the edge off like he wanted without knocking him on his ass or anything like that. He knew there were people who probably came in here looking for instant relief and big fixes in major ways, to feed addictions and keep this major mental pain at bay... But he just wanted a break, a little relief and as long as he knew it was coming he'd be okay. "Whatever you think I need, it's cool. At this point, I'm just trying to find something - anything - that works."