Tomorrow is the big day. I go to the shrink, for the first time in about 4-5 years.
I’m excited, but probably more terrified.
I thought I was okay. I’d learned to cope really well, or so I thought. But then things get to be too much, and I crack under the pressure. I’m scared that the whole cycle of on meds/off meds, oh-you-have-this, no-actually-you-have-that is going to start all over again. I’m too old for this shit. I know what I’ve been diagnosed as over the years, I know what I’ve self-diagnosed myself with in addition (oh, that year as a psychology major did me well, LOL!) — the LAST thing I want to find out is that, LO AND BEHOLD…I’ve got something ELSE.
I had to fill out about 10 pages of preliminary paperwork to bring with me tomorrow. General medical history, psychological history, medications taken, how much does _____ effect your life: (1) very little (2) somewhat (3) quite a bit (4) very frequently…AAAGH.
FUCK. I’m 36. I should know how to cope, I should be secure and confident in myself. I shouldn’t be so fucking SAD. I shouldn’t be so stressed, so tense, so on the edge.
I’m mad at myself. I’ve let the crazy win again, and I’m letting everyone down. All I want to do is be good (enough). All I want to do is take care of those I love, smile, be happy, do a good job and not worry all the fucking time.
I’ve been fighting this for 20 years. I’m TIRED of fighting. I’m embarrassed, I’m ashamed, and I feel like this huge, huge failure.
And I’m terrified to find out how much more of a failure I am, come tomorrow. Part of me is hopeful, and glad that I’m doing something to get out of the deep black hole before it gets too deep. But I’m scared. And I’m so disappointed in myself. And I’m sorry to those I’ve let down.
In an unrelated note, I aggravated my herniated disc AGAIN this morning. While in the shower, scrubbing my foot with a pumice stone. SERIOUSLY. I just have to shake my head at myself sometimes. THIS is why I don’t go hiking or play sports. Because I am too clumsy just merely existing, day to day. I mean, I sprained my ankle in college while walking out of the computer lab, and sprained it again years later getting up from a desk in my own home! The reason I have a herniated disc in the first place? I was brushing snow off of a car. Granted, it was 2 feet of snow and I was using a broom (we didn’t have a shovel at the time, OKAY?), but still. I just don’t even know, folks.
Hope you all appreciated that silly little anecdote, so that this entry wasn’t a complete downer. Oh that note, I’m heading to bed early. Sleep well, all.