(no subject)
How come after describing the effects valium has on me, and describing the concerns I have about really liking those effects and not being able to function/sleep without it, my psychiatrist wrote me out another prescription? I am spending my non-babysitting days in a valium-induced haze, feeling like I've smoked a couple of joints. This is not cricket. AND Ann "psychiatrist" Woon is away for a few more weeks.
And I've just realised that I hold back with her. You're supposed to be able to tell your psych anything - well, that's my understanding - but I find myself talking about superficial shit like Fiona or Larisa pissing me off instead of talking about other stuff because I'm worried about her reaction. She gives the impression that she doesn't believe me, or that I'm making a big deal over nothing, or that I'm catastrophising, which is her favourite solution to all my whinging. "You're just catastrophising again, Sarah. You need to take a step back and see that all is not as you think." WELL THEN WHY DON'T YOU HELP ME TO STOP CATASTROPHISING SO I CAN GET THE FUCK ON WITH THINGS, IF THAT'S MY ONLY GODDAMN PROBLEM!!!!
BUT she did give me a bipolar diagnosis, so there's obviously something else going on. So why can't I open up with her? I've been seeing her for five years, surely I'd trust her by now.
Then again, I don't tell anyone, so what chance does she have? Heheh. God. It sounds so stupid and nothing to worry about when I think about it, but it is omnivorous, as Homer would say. It does not go away and it does not let up at all. But is it real? Did it really happen? Is it just an "unfounded paranoia"? Fucky fucky fuck. And then everything that forms and spills from it is just another thing I can't talk about, cos they're all interlinked. God-fucking-damn-cunting-twat.
And I've just realised that I hold back with her. You're supposed to be able to tell your psych anything - well, that's my understanding - but I find myself talking about superficial shit like Fiona or Larisa pissing me off instead of talking about other stuff because I'm worried about her reaction. She gives the impression that she doesn't believe me, or that I'm making a big deal over nothing, or that I'm catastrophising, which is her favourite solution to all my whinging. "You're just catastrophising again, Sarah. You need to take a step back and see that all is not as you think." WELL THEN WHY DON'T YOU HELP ME TO STOP CATASTROPHISING SO I CAN GET THE FUCK ON WITH THINGS, IF THAT'S MY ONLY GODDAMN PROBLEM!!!!
BUT she did give me a bipolar diagnosis, so there's obviously something else going on. So why can't I open up with her? I've been seeing her for five years, surely I'd trust her by now.
Then again, I don't tell anyone, so what chance does she have? Heheh. God. It sounds so stupid and nothing to worry about when I think about it, but it is omnivorous, as Homer would say. It does not go away and it does not let up at all. But is it real? Did it really happen? Is it just an "unfounded paranoia"? Fucky fucky fuck. And then everything that forms and spills from it is just another thing I can't talk about, cos they're all interlinked. God-fucking-damn-cunting-twat.