Doctors. Lashana SMASH!
Yes, yes. I know. I haven't posted in a while. Again. Truthfully, I didn't really want to do much of anything these past weeks. The beginning of November SUCKED, and I'm still trying to get over it.
The short version (because it's late, I'm lazy, and I'm still pissed about it) is that on the 3rd of November, I found out that my psychiatrist had been lying to me concerning some paperwork she sent to my insurance. Basically, she fucked me over.
I had an appointment with her on the 4th. I went in there, asked her how the hell she thought lying to me was productive to my lack of mental health, and recieved the answer that it doesn't matter what I tell her, what I describe concerning my mental state - and lack there-of - or what other doctors have diagnosed me with. Her opinion is all that mattered. Despite the depression that I suffer, the borderline personality disorder, the panic attacks, high anxiety, and general inability to handle any stress, she told my insurance that I just suffer from low mood.
Low mood.
Three guesses how well I took that. And the first two don't count.
She then advised me that I should just stop feeling depressed and stop feeling suicidal. As if I can wave some fuckin' fairy wand, click my heels three times, and wish that I don't feel the way I do, or have the issues I have.
Again. Guess how I took that.
I confronted her with everything I've been going through the past FIVE YEARS. The depression, emptyness, hollowness, lack of emotion, pain, inability to cope, severe panic attacks to the point that I have trouble going out, and the fact that the only way I can keep myself from killing myself when I'm milimetres from having a complete mental and emotional BREAKDOWN, is to cause some sort of physical non-lethal damage to myself. I cut myself in order to stay alive and cope with various shit. It's fucked up, and so am I, but it works, so piss off.
She repeated that I should just stop feeling that way. That there was no reason for me to feel that way.
.....I don't really remember the rest of that meeting. That's how mad I was. Too PISSED to remember! I've been too pissed off to speak, to breathe, even to form a coherant sentence. Being so mad that my memory is blank and all I can recollect is a wave of incoherant rage.... that's new.
Anyway, I'm sure I managed a nice rant, with lots of swearing. I have a fuzzy (like shag carpet fuzzy) recollection of her telling me that she couldn't help me any more than she already had (ZERO), me telling her to go to hell, and storming out of her office....
And then, an hour later while I was scratching a lotto ticket, I found out THAT SHE CALLED THE COPS ON ME!!!!
Four cops FORCED their way into the house, scared Telca almost to DEATH, attempted to RANSACK the house, used the home phone to call my cell, and pretty much DEMANDED that I meet them. They even talked to my mother. MY MOTHER! Who doesn't even LIVE IN OTTAWA! The cops told them NOTHING! Put Telca and my Mom into a panic by saying there was an 'incident', then up and left.
I trust strangers about as far as I can throw a Volvo. But I didn't feel like going to jail and having a mental breakdown.
In hindsight, jail would have been better.
So I met the fuckers. Where upon, IN FRONT OF A MALL (4pm), they took my purse, bent me over the bumper of the car, FRISKED ME, and informed me that FUCKSHIT DOCTOR told them that I was a DANGER TO MYSELF AND OTHERS and to take me to a HOSPITAL, TO BE HOSPITALIZED IN THE CRAZY WARD!! Fuckin' hospitalised!! *incoherant rage*
The cop, in all of his 'let's contain the incident' brilliance, told me in a calm, she's-stupider-than-a-kindergardener, voice, that to show trust, he wouldn't HANDCUFF me. Just so that I knew that I could trust him.
Unfortunately, the look I was giving him DIDN"T make his head explode. Pity.
It was DEGRADING and HUMILIATING! I was treated like a fuckin leper by the admin nurse, locked up in a little 'quiet room' while the cops kept guard, had to BEG to get my purse back so I could call Telca and then my Mother and do damage control, and Then I had to talk to another shrink and after FOUR HOURS OF THIS FUCKING CRAP, I managed to convince the hospital's psyche-ward shrink that I wasn't CRAZY adn that my doctor was an IDIOT, and was finally allowed to go home!
How the FUCK, was THAT supposed to HELP MY MENTAL STATE?!!?
*more incoherant cursing*
And the cops took my multi-tool! I keep a small multi-tool in my purse, because shit happens, and they took it! Because really, a pair of pliers, a screwdriver and a nail file are a matter of security. I mean, good gods! I could be downirght ANNOYING with that nailfile! Run away! I practice good fingernail care!
That thing cost me twenty bucks! And it's GONE! *headdesk*
So now, I'm without a shrink, probably going to lose my insurance and be forced back to work WITHOUT having recieved any medical help, and am now pretty much FOUR TIMES as screwed up as when I left work in the first place, FIVE years ago!
*snarls*
Now I'm all pissed off again. I don't think I'm going to get any sleep tonight.
Hopefully, Wednesday will up my spirits. Telca, my Mother and I have tickets to go see ROBIN WILLAMS! Live! I'm hoping the insanity will wipe out the urge to fling myself onto the floor and scream like I'm on fire....
I REALLLLY wish I could remember what I said to idiot doctor before I stormed out. It must have been really good.....
The short version (because it's late, I'm lazy, and I'm still pissed about it) is that on the 3rd of November, I found out that my psychiatrist had been lying to me concerning some paperwork she sent to my insurance. Basically, she fucked me over.
I had an appointment with her on the 4th. I went in there, asked her how the hell she thought lying to me was productive to my lack of mental health, and recieved the answer that it doesn't matter what I tell her, what I describe concerning my mental state - and lack there-of - or what other doctors have diagnosed me with. Her opinion is all that mattered. Despite the depression that I suffer, the borderline personality disorder, the panic attacks, high anxiety, and general inability to handle any stress, she told my insurance that I just suffer from low mood.
Low mood.
Three guesses how well I took that. And the first two don't count.
She then advised me that I should just stop feeling depressed and stop feeling suicidal. As if I can wave some fuckin' fairy wand, click my heels three times, and wish that I don't feel the way I do, or have the issues I have.
Again. Guess how I took that.
I confronted her with everything I've been going through the past FIVE YEARS. The depression, emptyness, hollowness, lack of emotion, pain, inability to cope, severe panic attacks to the point that I have trouble going out, and the fact that the only way I can keep myself from killing myself when I'm milimetres from having a complete mental and emotional BREAKDOWN, is to cause some sort of physical non-lethal damage to myself. I cut myself in order to stay alive and cope with various shit. It's fucked up, and so am I, but it works, so piss off.
She repeated that I should just stop feeling that way. That there was no reason for me to feel that way.
.....I don't really remember the rest of that meeting. That's how mad I was. Too PISSED to remember! I've been too pissed off to speak, to breathe, even to form a coherant sentence. Being so mad that my memory is blank and all I can recollect is a wave of incoherant rage.... that's new.
Anyway, I'm sure I managed a nice rant, with lots of swearing. I have a fuzzy (like shag carpet fuzzy) recollection of her telling me that she couldn't help me any more than she already had (ZERO), me telling her to go to hell, and storming out of her office....
And then, an hour later while I was scratching a lotto ticket, I found out THAT SHE CALLED THE COPS ON ME!!!!
Four cops FORCED their way into the house, scared Telca almost to DEATH, attempted to RANSACK the house, used the home phone to call my cell, and pretty much DEMANDED that I meet them. They even talked to my mother. MY MOTHER! Who doesn't even LIVE IN OTTAWA! The cops told them NOTHING! Put Telca and my Mom into a panic by saying there was an 'incident', then up and left.
I trust strangers about as far as I can throw a Volvo. But I didn't feel like going to jail and having a mental breakdown.
In hindsight, jail would have been better.
So I met the fuckers. Where upon, IN FRONT OF A MALL (4pm), they took my purse, bent me over the bumper of the car, FRISKED ME, and informed me that FUCKSHIT DOCTOR told them that I was a DANGER TO MYSELF AND OTHERS and to take me to a HOSPITAL, TO BE HOSPITALIZED IN THE CRAZY WARD!! Fuckin' hospitalised!! *incoherant rage*
The cop, in all of his 'let's contain the incident' brilliance, told me in a calm, she's-stupider-than-a-kindergardener, voice, that to show trust, he wouldn't HANDCUFF me. Just so that I knew that I could trust him.
Unfortunately, the look I was giving him DIDN"T make his head explode. Pity.
It was DEGRADING and HUMILIATING! I was treated like a fuckin leper by the admin nurse, locked up in a little 'quiet room' while the cops kept guard, had to BEG to get my purse back so I could call Telca and then my Mother and do damage control, and Then I had to talk to another shrink and after FOUR HOURS OF THIS FUCKING CRAP, I managed to convince the hospital's psyche-ward shrink that I wasn't CRAZY adn that my doctor was an IDIOT, and was finally allowed to go home!
How the FUCK, was THAT supposed to HELP MY MENTAL STATE?!!?
*more incoherant cursing*
And the cops took my multi-tool! I keep a small multi-tool in my purse, because shit happens, and they took it! Because really, a pair of pliers, a screwdriver and a nail file are a matter of security. I mean, good gods! I could be downirght ANNOYING with that nailfile! Run away! I practice good fingernail care!
That thing cost me twenty bucks! And it's GONE! *headdesk*
So now, I'm without a shrink, probably going to lose my insurance and be forced back to work WITHOUT having recieved any medical help, and am now pretty much FOUR TIMES as screwed up as when I left work in the first place, FIVE years ago!
*snarls*
Now I'm all pissed off again. I don't think I'm going to get any sleep tonight.
Hopefully, Wednesday will up my spirits. Telca, my Mother and I have tickets to go see ROBIN WILLAMS! Live! I'm hoping the insanity will wipe out the urge to fling myself onto the floor and scream like I'm on fire....
I REALLLLY wish I could remember what I said to idiot doctor before I stormed out. It must have been really good.....