Crazy Bastard II

Crazy Bastard II

I just got off the phone with my father to tell him he has a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow. He isn’t going. He doesn’t want to see his doctor. He doesn’t want to take his Coumadin, he is mad at me, thinking I am going to kill him, so I am done. I want nothing to do with him anymore. He has it in his mind that Coumadin is dangerous and shouldn’t be taken. It is the reason why he got so sick in the hospital. So I am done.

I texted my sister but haven’t heard back. For some reason, I am crying and I never cry. Bastard is going to kill himself and I should care less. Maybe it’s the relief of not having to deal with him anymore. I canceled the Zipcar. I am not going anywhere tomorrow. I’ll cancel the appointment in the morning, too.

I didn’t go anywhere today. I was up for 21 hours straight yesterday and all I could do today was sleep. I had a black bean burger for lunch and it’s been the only sustenance I had all day. I am not hungry. I still feel bloated from eating pork chops last night, even though my system has been cleaned out with the senna. Frankly, I don’t care if I ever eat again. I seriously have lost my appetite and I don’t care if I get it back. I was going to vote, but I felt so weak and the thought of taking four buses wasn’t appealing (two to get there and two to come home). If I could walk there, I would but it’s like four big city blocks to get there and I just can’t do it. It would kill me.

I never heard back from my PCP’s office. I guess being a few points down on potassium isn’t a big deal like I thought it was. But then, it’s not like I am being followed by someone that knows me. I know that if my other PCP was there, I would have received a call today. My psychiatrist hasn’t returned my emails. I guess she has nothing to say.

I had therapy today. We were trying to talk about the need for therapy but I felt like I was going to pass out on her so we talk minimally. I told her I still feel obligated to see her, even if my account was zero. She said we had to find out why that is. Yea, right. She also will try and ease up on the way she feels about me. I don’t know what that means. Maybe it will mean she won’t she her affection towards me as much. We still don’t know why I need therapy to begin with. I am not saying my issues have been solved. They are ongoing issues. I only am seeing her once this week. I would have seen her tomorrow but my father screwed up those plans and then some. She wants me to think of the reasons why I am in therapy or something like that, to talk next week about it.

That is her standard answer for everything, we’ll talk about it next time. Write down my thoughts and we’ll look at it next week. I frankly, don’t remember what we talked about or how I felt because staying awake was important. I knew that if I closed my eyes, I would have passed out on her. It was good that I didn’t drive to see her. I might have had an accident. She seems content to be talking on the phone these days. Of course, she wants me to practice more self-care these days. I still have a vague idea about what that means. All I know is that I need to take a shower soon and it won’t be happening tonight.

About G. Collerone

suicide attempt survivor writing about the hopelessness that accompanies depression that no one likes to talk about
This entry was posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Crazy Bastard II

  1. That’s not fun. I accidentally stopped taking the wrong meditation and cried for a week straight… thought I had depression. Didn’t know it was the meds… sorry to hear about yo father too…
    Nina

  2. sandracharrondotcom says:

    I’m the first one to roll my eyes at that stupid self care anthem, but sometimes a shower is a shower is a shower. Keep going, you got this (such cliché words I know, but sometimes some cliché is better than no cliché at all.)

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