Saw the sunshine spewer yesterday.
I believe I know why she spews sunshine. It’s not simply her personality. That mental health center has a “positive attitude” approach to their treatment plans. Meaning even if I am doing suckily, she’s still going to smile and laugh and tell me I am doing great. I really need someone to give me a cold hard reality check…and I’m getting the “blow sunshine up your skirt” treatment.
We did a mental health assessment. It just compares how I am now to where I was last year at this time. She thinks I am a hundred percent improved. I think I am still a work in progress walking a razor’s edge between functioning and coming apart at the seams. But since she won’t listen to me because all of my concerns are “negative”, by the time I am at rock bottom, I won’t be able to save myself. It’s like this program of theirs has ensured my failure because I am sitting here, alerting her to the warning signs I am so familiar with, and she’s just smiling and pointing out how well I have been doing and “no need to focus on the bad.” This does NOT work for me. I don’t live in fear of seasonal affect or the meds quitting and setting off a chain reaction of me coming undone. But I am acutely aware of the patterns of my past and if I start to notice a sign here, a sign there…well to me that’s the golden hour, hit it when it’s poking its ugly head out from under the rocks.
My current care regime is so busy being super cheerful they won’t even listen to me, let alone address my concerns.
To say I feel shaky and defeated is a bit of an understatement.
I had a good mood day yesterday, which was due because I spent three days face down in the gutter.
She didn’t want to talk about the gutter days, not even when I told her my mood sunk so low the other night I was scared of committing suicide to escape all of the dark thoughts. I mean,if I were a therapist, that would give me pause for concern. Not this woman. Like I just threw it out there for shock value or attention. I mentioned it because for about four hours Saturday night, that’s how I felt. I’ve been there a thousand times and the only cure is to go to sleep before the darkness in my mind can convince me to do something fatalistic.
I guess because my bipolar two is cyclothymic and the moods shift every few minutes or hours, it’s not of concern to her.
It concerns me.
It’s usually prelude to something darker coming at me from the recesses of my fucked up mind.
I am greatly improved.
Never mind the other night I had so much going on, cats yapping and at my feet, kid hanging on my coattail yelling momy momy mommy mommmy, phone ringing, and I just got so overwhelmed and freaked out-I admit this with no joy whatsoever- I had,for a fleeting moment, the thought of “taking her to her father’s because I am obviously not strong enough to endure all of this.”
It passed, because I love my child more than life itself.
But for that moment…I was frustrated, stressed, scared even…
And my counselor doesn’t want to hear such things, because it’s negative and unhealthy.
This place is a fucking joke.
Today I am not feeling happy, I just feel panicky and stressed and am not looking forward to going and being around other living humans.
But I am improved.
Time to get out the duct tape to hold myself together so the masses don’t become uncomfortable by all my pieces falling off. (It’s a metaphor, I am not literally losing body parts or anything, damn ebola monkey spared me,figured life was more punishment than death.)
Eh, I can’t be too bad off, i am still flexing my sarcasm and warped humor genes.
Off to see the wizard.
Tho I am hoping a flying monkey intercepts.