Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Doctors, officers, and Monday

I've been reading through some of my old blog entries and I've definitely noticed my writing, grammar, and overall general use of language (on my blog and in real life) have declined quite a bit.  I'm not sure why.  My medication?  Brain damage?  My mental health has declined, so I'm sure it's not a coincidence that my intellectual and communication skills have suffered too.  I guess I'm not lucking enough to be one of those tortured genius artists.  HAHA!  Whatever the reasons may be, I just hope that it's not permanent. 




I got pretty sick after dinner on Saturday.  I have only gotten a few hours of sleep since Friday night.  I didn't sleep at all Sunday night because I was sick all night and my brain just won't turn off tonight.  I saw my psychiatrist this morning...er...Monday morning.  I had such a hard time talking to her.  I mean literally talking to her.  It's like I had forgotten English.  It worries me.  I don't ever want to be mute again.  I was way overly emotional during our visit.  Dr. Jennifer told me that she had talked with CT last week.  She brought up some of the things that have happened since I last saw her.  The gigantic lump in my throat made it hard to breathe as I listened to my doctor verbalize all the things that have happened this year and all my increased in symptoms/lunatic behavior.  It was so much harder to talk to her than it normally is and I'm not totally sure why.  She asked me how often I have been cutting.  I was really ashamed to tell her the truth.  I felt this surge of shame and embarrassment when I told her that I've been hearing, smelling, feeling things, spacing out too much, and having "dreams" while awake.  I'm afraid my psychiatrist will think I'm crazy.  I know that's ridiculous and it makes me laugh when I say/write it, but it's kind of true.  No, it's definitely true.  She did not make any changes to my meds except to add a sleeping medication, but I am only allowed to have 10 pills at a time, especially since she knows that I bought 6 bottles of sleeping pills a couple of weeks ago.

I also saw Dr. K.  I initially cancelled because I was really sick.  I couldn't even hold water down.  I bought some expensive anti nausea medication and I threw that up to.  It wasn't very pleasant going in and it was so gross on the way out.  Who decides what "flavors" medications are?  There was no way this stuff was "cherry."  It was more like rancid berry flavored maple syrup.  Dr. K was really cute and brought a special barf bucket.  LOL  I ended up talking about my mom for most of the session because she's started emailing me on Facebook.  The emails say that she misses me and that my brother is to blame for everything, but that's just how it starts.  When she has at least one of my siblings in her life, I am the evil one, but when all of them stop talking to her, she makes someone else the evil one and reaches out to me.  Ugh.  Dr. K didn't really say very much about it.  She actually kept asking me what CT thinks about the situation with my mother.  I really have no idea what she was fishing for.  Whatever it was, I didn't have it.  At the end of the session she brought up my cutting and gave me a worksheet to fill out about it for next week.  I have to do a "chain analysis" of my cutting.  I think that point is to figure out what the "activating events" are that trigger that behavior.  It just feels like busy work to me, but I'll do it.

After therapy I made a phone call I've been avoiding for a while.  I called Officer Good back.  He has left me something like four messages since last week.  I told him that I am willing to let them search my computer for whatever they need and that I will provide them with a written statement, but that I do not think I can handle a sit down recorded verbal interview.  I told him that I just want to close the case if they need more from me.  He is going to give me a call later this week to set up a time to work on my computer and discuss my statement later.  He is a really nice guy, but he made me feel really guilty when he mentioned how I'd be helping other children.  I wanted to be courageous and strong, but I'm not.  I wanted to do this to help other children.  I feel really guilty that I'm not strong enough to do the right thing.