Today I sucked it up and went to the psychiatrist... mostly because I couldn't find a legit way to get my meds and only partially because I am interested in feeling better. I'd say it's a 98/2 split in favor of no jail time or exorbitant black market prices. So, Dr B. is a pretty friendly and sort of portly person. Trust me, when you are laying your soul bare, you so don't want to do it to some model type person. She went over some of my history with depression and my family tendancies to be addicted to pretty much anything and everything under the sun.
Then comes the gritty part. I told my mom it's like keeping all of your crap in a box with a nice tight lid and then all of the sudden someone comes along and makes you open the box and show them what is inside. So we looked at the alcohol and drug abuse, the harming thoughts I had toward my child toward the end of my pregnancy, the abuse of my marriage, DCF, how lucky I am to not have Toby taken away from me at birth... oh, the list goes on and on. And I just sat there and pulled the ugliest things out of my box, one right after another. And surprisingly enough, I didn't cry. Maybe after so my garbage piles up you find a numbness of sorts. All I know is that apparently I should have sought counselling like 482 times before in the past.
Dr B seems a little uncertain of how to diagnose me... or maybe she just wants me back there to really hear the good stuff. She feels that I might have a form of bipolar which isn't bipolar at all but it is kind of like seasonal allergies... the depression gets way worse in the fall/winter. She also thinks I have PTSD. Something I have always reserved for men and women who have gone to war and been shot at for days and months on end has now been attached to me. Yeah, she's probably right but it's a little hard to wrap my mind around right now.
The lack of sleeping, the panic attacks in my sleep, the total and complete exhaustion I feel... all going to be treated with a little dose of Trazadone. I laughed a little at this one, mostly cause when they Baker Acted Mike, they gave him a dose of this so strong it would fell a horse. That was the week that I got slammed into walls, my thumb disconnected, spit on, shoved into a door and had my foot almost run over by the car. Pardon me for being a little leary of that one... I took it to CVS. Let's see how long it takes me to suck it up and pick it up. I know that it was probably just the devil in him and that it won't have that effect on me because I am not that person... but still....
All I know is I am glad to have some days off next week. I might totally be bucking the system, but I think I need the break!!!
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