So...met my psychiatrist today. He wasn't Doctor Melfi, but he was nice. A little arrogant. Hey, what psychiatrist isn't? Seriously, I think arrogance 101 is part of their residency training. Anyway, he's nice and confident and his office has a very, very nice view. Plus, I'll probably see him fifteen minutes once every month/six weeks. So, yeah. The only thing that was weird was that he sat at his desk and typed up pretty much everything I said. I'm glad he's taking notes, but what happened to note pads and quiet nods and "mhmm"s and eye contact? He did make some eye contact and he did have to urge me on a few times, but you know, it's hard to think about what I am telling you over the sound of you typing up everything I'm telling you. Maybe he never learned shorthand in medical school. Anyway, it's not a big deal.
What is a big deal is that I went at all. I've basically been in denial for most of my life about my "psych" issues (I don't know what to call them) and going to an actual MD and telling him to put me on a drug is kind of a big deal. So big that after, I really don't feel that great at all. I'm kind of...bummed. I mean, it's good that I am getting through to the root of my issues and trying to work them out; and it's good that I am agreeing to try medication, especially since I've done SO WELL without it. I just...I don't like who I am today and I don't think anyone else does and frankly, I kind of feel like no one ever will.
Now, don't get started, I know it's irrational thinking. I know it's not true. But it sure feels true.
I thought that you were supposed to leave these things feeling better, not...whatever it is that I'm feeling. I'm anxious I guess. Hence the psychotherapy.
He told me he thinks I have OCD. He actually said he felt it was more OCD than Asperger's, telling me that the OCD can explain the social issues because I over think and over analyze everything. And, I suppose maybe that is true, but I am not going to disregard my ideas about Asperger's based on his opinion. I have only seen him once and he is not an Asperger's doctor. Anxiety, and OCD as well, tends to go hand-in-hand with Asperger's. We didn't really talk about it, and the talking we did do about it wasn't that in-depth or well articulated (I was nervous). And, anyway, I am not worrying about nailing down an Asperger's diagnosis. RIght now I just want to feel better. Less nervous, not so anxious, no longer afraid of everything. I want to start there, and build up if I need to work on more.
I'm sure he would agree with that plan.
So, it's Prozac. I know, big name. It's even what Tony Soprano takes. Look at me, I'm just like Tony Soprano! You know, without the murder and stuff. I'm really nervous to take it. I don't want to fuck up my already fucked up chemistry and I don't want to be sick or dizzy or drowsy or get fatter or get sadder or mess up at work or mess up at school or jump off a bridge. I think I am going to keep a journal--well, TRY to, because we know how good at doing that I am--of how my mood changes and how I feel each day. Call it my Prozac diary or whatever. I should be able to commit to writing a paragraph or so once a day--SHOULD. Hopefully that will help me track the changes so when I go back on the 25th of July I can tell him if it's working. I really hope I'll be able to tell if it's working. I really don't want to tack Cymbalta or anything else on to it. Here's hoping this works.
I was late to work because of my appointment and then I was sent home early because of a light schedule. That's alright with me. This morning was kind of emotionally draining, if only because I made it that way. Hopefully this afternoon will be less so. Of course, you know, I have school so no guarantees on that.
The good news today--I mean, none of this was BAD news, I just don't feel great about it--is that I have excellent health insurance and my happy pills are free. So, why not?
Here I go. Down the rabbit hole. Potentially into a life regulated by pills. And how isn't that supposed to make me nervous?
Just to Break My Fall
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