Appointment with psychiatrist

I’ve been thinking about this appointment for ages. I feel embarrassed to admit it but I had possible conversations running in my head. I remember thinking “maybe I daydream about talking to someone so much because I really am actually lonely” and maybe that’s true. I’m also terrified of looking stupid or having people laugh at me or thinking badly of me.

Pretty sure I managed to look incredibly stupid and I’m damn sure the psychiatrist was getting frustrated and pissed off with me. I am afraid that she thinks I am attention-seeking, that I am making it all up, that I am faking it all, that I am exagerrating … oh god oh god, all things which are kind of true. I feel so ashamed. Why didn’t I just suck it up and answer her questions properly. Be open and honest and a fucking adult. Volunteer stuff! Yeah, it’s been years since I volunteered information to a psychiatrist. I never talk about suicide with them and I think about that so much. So much of my time these days is spent thinking about it. Usually I am deciding that “this time, I’ll really do it” “this really is the right thing to do” “this weekend would be fine, a good a time as it will get” “it won’t be so bad” etc etc etc.

One of the things the psychiatrist tried to do was to reassure me that I didn’t need to be embarrassed about having suicidal thoughts. Ha, I don’t think I’ve ever been embarrassed by it. I feel incredibly and deeply ashamed that it’s yet another thing that I’ve failed at. That I procrastinate about and fuck aobut with and I am terrified that I look like I am attention-seeking. There is a part of me that wants to tell them, to say all of it and get it out of my head but I don’t actually think I could physically make myself say it. First of all because wow, the anxiety of the above and secondly, I’d be crying too hard. So it’s kind of a moot point. I can’t say it. But it still pisses me off when I heard the psychiatrist describe my suicidal thoughts as just happening as a one-off a fortnight ago. Makes me feel kind of hopeless and helpless all rolled into one, what can I do? Speak up (somehow, ha) and it’ll be horrible or shut up and it’s horrible.

She wants me to talk a drug

She said that she’s heard me say “several times” (or was it “many times”) about my high episodes but that she’s never seen it. I don’t have manic depression, I knew it. But of course I am super-protective of my diagnosis coz I want to stay sick. Bet loads of them believe that even so it so every step of the logic is so full of fail.

What do I do all day? “Have a shower <Bank Alt> you’ll feel better if you have a shower <Bank Alt> you really should have a shower <Bank Alt>it’s disgusting not to have a shower <Bank Alt>you should have a shower <Bank Alt>just get it over with <Bank Alt>you should have a shower <Bank Alt>stop being pathetic <Bank Alt>you should have a shower <Bank Alt>.” I repeat stuff, I try to talk myself into stuff. I fail to do things. I fail to go outside. I do that so much.

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