I see the shrink in less than an hour.
I went against the grain, because I actually don’t feel too bad mentally today, and rather than dressing down or going with a bad mood as usual, I put on a nice top and a skirt with tights, full make up, earrings. My former counselors used to tell me it was such a disservice that my moods cycled so rapidly because I’d generally be manic when I saw the doctor and he’d see me well groomed and out of bed and assume I was fine. Ever since then, I have been terrified to show up at the shrink’s office looking like I feel too good. Because if you are having a good day, they assume all your days are good and it is a disservice.
I honestly think the Lamictal increase has helped. I read back prior to shark week hormones, and then this past week, and it hasn’t been bad, not at all. Maybe the anxiety and paranoia have amped up, but the mood swings…It’s been okay. No tears.
Now had the shrink saw me last week in the middle of shark week, she might have wanted to commit me, because I was just randomly bursting into tears and “I should die” thoughts.
It seems a lifetime away now.
I know it will happen again in a couple of more weeks, and I live in fear of it. But right now, do I need to voice concerns for a stronger mood stabilizer if I can milk a few months out of the current and just try to survive the hormonal thing? I am a big fan of “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” I don’t see what any medication is going to be able to do to help the hormonal thing.
Yesterday, R was talking about how his stepdaughter was always “on the moody side” but now that she is 9 months pregnant, “I wouldn’t want to be her husband, she’s crazy.”
That kind of insensitivity is why I hate men. Men, per se, aren’t horrible beings. But some of their views lack empathy and as I told Roger, “Don’t have the parts, don’t have the ability, don’t get an opinion.” They think it’s so funny and hormones are just some sort of excuse women use to torture them. It would be nice if men would consider that it’s torture for us too. There is no worse feeling that “going off” on someone without cause, then realizing later you did it. You feel so shitty, and you know, apologizing isn’t going to make it not have happened. Live with that for a week every month for 40 years. THEN you get an opinion.
It’s the same way I view the whole abortion debate. Most of those who are against abortion are MEN who don’t have the parts, the ability, and yet they think their opinion should trump a woman’s rights over her own body. It’s akin to a bunch of women being politicians with a couple of men involved and making decisions concerning whether men should be allowed treatment for impotence. I mean, inability to have sex never killed anyone right, is it that important an issue? (No, that is not how I feel, I have empathy for men who are impotent for whatever reason. Just an example.) Don’t have the parts, don’t have the ability, don’t get an opinion.
Oh, my stomach is starting to churn with anxiety as it does before every appointment. Actually it’s been churning a lot lately and I am stressed sometimes so I don’t pay it much mind. Besides, it’s been going on for over 20 years and I’ve had all the embarrassing invasive tests only to be told, “You’re internalizing stress, you need to relax.” Uh…Hmm. Is it any wonder I don’t have much use for doctors in general? Few of them have ever actually helped me.
Guess it’s time to get ready to leave.
So will I be truthful with the doctor to avoid the hell of starting a new med (or delaying it)? Or will I try to explain the situation? Maybe I will consult the magic 8 ball.