Posted by Klokka on September 2, 2004, at 21:43:02
How time flies when your life seems to be coming apart at the seams! I'm seeing my psychiatrist for the first time after a five-week break this Tuesday, and I know that I have many things to tell him, but I really don't know how I'm going to go about it all.
Some very big things have happened this month. Shortly after my psychiatrist left, I stumbled across something he wrote about me (or my psychological clone) online. I'm determined to get that out as quickly as possible lest I get scared and decide not to, but I'm still more than a little nervous about it. I'm afraid I'll sound like a crazed stalker and he'll refuse to see me anymore. I'm afraid he'll yell at me. I'm afraid it'll have been about someone else, which would be a relief, except that along with that is the fear that he'll wonder how I could ever be so self-centered that I assume that other people ever think of me when I'm not right there in front of them. None of these are really reasonable - with the possible exception of the first - but all the reason in the world isn't going to make telling him what I found (worse, how I found it) any easier. If he won't put up with me anymore, I have nowhere else to go. That's a very scary thought right now.
A week later, my mom had my cat put to sleep for no good reason and the experience was very painful. I wanted so badly to believe that she didn't do what she did the way she did (I've posted about it in Grief and Social, don't feel much like repeating the details... but to make a long story short, she quite deliberately did several things which made the experience even worse than it would've been otherwise) out of malice or to punish me, but I haven't found a single alternative explanation. The intial agony subsided rapidly, and I've been able to act as though not a thing in the world is wrong. My parents believe this; either it's a very good act, or they're just blind. I know the pain is still there, but I don't really feel it right now. The last time I did was a couple of days ago when I had a dream where it turned out that my parents had only taken him away for a little while as a punishment, and he was alive and well... I woke up in the middle of the night to find it wasn't true, he wasn't curled up at the foot of my bed as I expected, and cried for hours. I got up that morning and was "back to normal." I don't know if the way I've stopped hurting all the time over this is normal, or a good sign, or what. I don't know if I want to know if it isn't, because then I'll have to face it and I just can't right now. I have to hold it all together because nobody else can, or will.
All the same, this house hasn't been home to me since, not even when I shut the door and play music loudly enough so that I don't have to acknowledge that there is anyone else around. I feel so empty, always, but especially when I'm here. I think constantly of moving out... I should be able to when I turn eighteen next year. My older sister has offered me a place to stay, which seems like my best option right now. Every noise my parents make puts me on edge, every word they speak sounds like a threat. I can't live like this. Schoolwork is a fine distraction, but it can only do so much when it leads to being yelled at (...don't ask, I don't understand it either) and is hard to focus on, anyway.
My psychiatrist will know about the situation with my cat, at least in general, which helps. (I saw the psychologist replacing him when it happened and for follow-up a week later, and asked her to give him the gist of the matter.) However, because I have something else to tell him, I'm afraid that him knowing what else has happened will complicate things, because of course he doesn't know what I found and will want to talk about what he does know happened! I am so close to not telling him as it is that I'm afraid this will be the decisive factor.
Apart from this... I've started at a new school, which really isn't a big deal (it's like my old high school, only not as small) except that it means I can only see my psychiatrist for sure every other week. The "other" weeks, he will be on call and I will only be able to see him if things are slow at the hospital. Also, I'm turning seventeen soon. Both of these remind me that in probably less than a year I will have to stop seeing him. It may even be as soon as January, if my second semester schedule is poorly arranged. I find this prospect unspeakably terrifying, and I'm not even sure why. I fear he'll refuse any contact with me after the fact, and I know from experience with the high school teachers I left this year that even the occasional e-mail makes things so much more bearable, because then it doesn't seem so much like the person died. I may have to end therapy very suddenly, because I can't afford it and it's very hard to find a psychiatrist (which, usually I think, is funded by the health care system here) who understands English well, let alone one who is willing to do therapy. I can't even imagine stuffing everything in and keeping it there for years at the moment. I wish I'd started seeing him when my old psychiatrist left and I first had the chance, because maybe then I'd be ready. No, wait, I wish I'd never gotten myself involved in this at all. I don't know that this is the sort of thing I'm likely to get over.
Oddly enough, I'm not even sure I want to show up for my appointment. I'll force myself because I know that I should, but to some extent I really do not want to talk to him ever again. I feel to some extent like I've managed to distance myself from all the hurt and the reasons behind me, and I don't want to lose that. I want to be able to delude myself into thinking that the only problem with me is that I'm always caught up in my "shell" (whatever that means... it's what my mother always says about me) and maybe I just lack a bit of character. I want to believe that I can just will myself into feeling better. I don't want to deal with the pain anymore, even if it's what's best in the long run. I know that avoiding it isn't going to do anything, but I still want to. And with the changing of seasons I think I'm depressed again, so I just don't want to do anything anymore... only there's so much to do and I'm not in a position where I can take a break and rest even if I absolutely need to. If I end up in a crisis, there is nothing I can do to make things easier until I feel better again which won't end up making things worse. I'm terrified.
Overall, I just don't know how I'm going to deal with this. Somehow I don't think that distracting myself with schoolwork up to the time when he opens the door to the waiting room is the best of ideas, but I don't know how to prepare. Any thoughts?
poster:Klokka
thread:385827
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20040828/msgs/385827.html