Struggles in Therapy

I had therapy today. It went on time until 10 minutes in my bowels decided to try and explode. I had to tell her that I would call her back in a few minutes. Lousy timing. The joys of CES. I did what I had to do and then called her back. I apologized. We talked about various things. She wanted to know if I was suicidal and I had to ask myself, was she not listening to me yesterday when I told her? She said she knew I was because of the pain, but wanted to know if I was otherwise? Being suicidal is being suicidal. No matter what the cause is, if you feel like taking your life, you are thinking about it. I just let it go because I didn’t want to deal with her stupidity today. I already dealt with one idiot doctor this weekend, I wasn’t going to deal with another.

I asked her to leave me alone and she started laughing. I should have hung up on her. I really wanted to but she would call back. I don’t know what was annoying me. Maybe the whole almost crapping my pants thing got to me and then finding out I had discharge. I really was like WTF. I just stopped the pill earlier this month so I should NOT be having any type of bleeding. That, with the stupid dream I had about her, just really fucked with my brain. I dreamt that we were in session and we were talking about breasts. I have no idea how the subject came up. I really hate mine and really want them chopped off. But then, I am a male so I shouldn’t have them to begin with. In the dream, I had to go pee really bad. I couldn’t wait for the session to end so I could go. Funny how the dream came true, partly.

My therapist likes to play mother hen sometimes. She gets on my nerves when she does this because I am not used to people caring about me. She was freaking out about the trilafon supply that I have. I have 5 pills left or so and I don’t see my psychiatrist until next Friday. I think that is plenty as I don’t take it that often. I have been taking it every few days. And I don’t take more than one pill per day. She also worried that I would run out of my strong pain pills. That I might call in for a prescription because I am almost out and I am in the midst of a flare up. I thought I had more than I did but I don’t. She was really freaking out on me and I was like WTF. I think she had too much coffee today or something. I really am thinking she has an anxiety disorder of some kind. I wish I could know some of her patients because it would be interesting to see if she act that way with other patients or just me.

I know the voices are getting out of control. I didn’t tell her this because she was already out in left field and nervous. Besides, they were listening in on our conversation so it wasn’t like I could talk. She asked if I was paranoid and I told her I haven’t been around people too much. I went out today and was a little nervous. I think that was only because the bus driver was a little heavy on the gas with a wheelchair passenger. I get nervous that they are going to go flying with a sudden stop. I listened to my music the whole time I was out. Starbucks had these French cookies that were out of this world. It was a type of shortbread with dark chocolate in the center. HEAVEN! I hope they don’t run out. If I go out tomorrow, I will get them again.

Other than having therapy tomorrow, I am not planning on going out. I didn’t get my hamburger that I wanted to get. I might try for Thursday. I hope the avocados don’t go bad. They are in a sealed plastic container so I think they should stay good.

I got T/Gel shampoo for my stupid itchy scalp. I have tried the other shampoos and nothing is helping. And I don’t have that much hair so I know it’s not because of dirty hair. I am going to take a shower tonight if I can bear it. My ankle didn’t like going out today. I had to break out the cane half way through my trip. I am glad I had it because it really was painful. As I was walking home, I saw fire trucks and an ambulance. I was fearful that they were for my mother. But there was a 3 car accident on my street. One car was pretty banged up and was leaking stuff. I hope the drivers and passengers are okay.

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, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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