Scripted Therapy

I’ve decided to stop seeing my talk therapist. It’s not that she’s poor at her job, or anything, but I feel like because of the way Kaiser is structured, I’m not getting what I want out of our time together. I have to come up with goals… so all we focus on are those goals, which I made up purely because she said I had to or Kaiser wouldn’t pay for the therapy. I really needed someone to help me with my anxieties about my hysterectomy, and my health, and turning 30. What we ended up with was her determining that I am lonely.

Now, I will acknowledge that I do not have a lot of close relationships in my life, but that doesn’t REALLY mean that I’m lonely. I have a lot of friends, but a majority of them I don’t see in person. I have three best friends, but two live out of state and Bird is wrapped up in her own 30-year old life. We still text and talk, though. Maybe I don’t rely on them like people think you should be able to. Like I’ve only ever called David crying once, when I got stood up for the first time ever, by a guy I really thought I liked. Bird and Billie? Almost never, but we can talk about serious stuff if we need to. It doesn’t mean I COULDN’T call them; it just means that I haven’t felt the need to.

Because of the script that Kaiser doctors follow, all I was getting from my talk therapist was "you are lonely," and I disagree. So I’ve decided not to go back. I’m still anxious about my hysterectomy, and the emotional repercussions from that, much less the physical ones. I’m still unsure how to take care of my health, and I’m still disappointed that I’m 30… but I think I can handle it. I’m actually in a really good place right now, if I’m honest.

My prescribing doctor, Dr. Major, has left Kaiser. I got an email from her regarding my ADHD medication that explained she was going to relocate to take care of a relative, but that as her last act for me, she’d increased my ADHD meds. I have an appointment with my new med doctor in March, right before my hysterectomy. His name is Dr. Patel. I hope he’s as open minded about treatment as Dr. Major was.

Anyways… just an update on things, I guess.

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Post-Therapy Debriefing

  • Improved Emotional Regulation
  • Improved Relationships
  • Improved Coping Skills
  • Decreased Anxiety, Panic, and Rage

What changes am I ready to make?


My talk shrink says I present as a very lonely girl. I can’t really say she’s wrong, but I haven’t figured out how we’re supposed to resolve that just yet.

She asked me how much my weight effects my meeting people. I told her it doesn’t, because I give no fucks about my weight anymore. She asked if I go out. I explained that I taught myself how to go out alone, because my friends didn’t like doing the things I liked doing. She asked why I didn’t make friends from that. I told her I do, they’re just single-serving friends.

I’m not sure that I feel like we really addressed anything today, other than she thinks I’m lonely and that I agree. She wants me to join a 6 month DBT group. A, how much will that cost? 2, that’s a big commitment. D, I associate DBT with D2, who didn’t get better as much as he just says the word “mindful” a lot, now. So… I’m not real keen on the idea, to be honest.

I’ve never been big on the idea of group therapy. Like, I get that it’s SUPPOSED to be a bunch of people with similar problems resolving those problems through group support and accountability. I feel like, in reality, what you end up with is a bunch of people comparing how crazy they are to each other… and then using those other crazy people as reasons to convince themselves they’re fine exactly how they are because at least they aren’t (insert something about the other people in group). But that’s just my personal opinion of group.

Gonna have to mull over whether I really need to see this shrink anymore….

Forgets The Blood

History remembers the battle, but forgets the blood.

-Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

My favorite quote from a book. Is it a ridiculous book? Yes, obviously, but… it’s a good quote. It’s a true quote.

Let’s extrapolate.
I can tell you what I know about WWII… but I cannot relate to you the buckets of blood spilled during it on all sides (something like 80 million lives). I can tell you that around 40 million people died in World War I, but you and I cannot really fathom such a number. I can say that 45,000 people in the US committed suicide in 2016, but that number doesn’t reflect the weight of what happened. Just last year 58 people died in the Las Vegas shooting by Mandalay Bay, and 851 were injured, but while that event rocked the whole US and gave us all pause, I fly out to Vegas on Thursday evening for my 30th birthday.

You see, as soon as something isn’t happening, it’s not real anymore.

This is true in your own life. At least… I know it’s true in mine. I’m finally at a place where everything with me, emotionally, is kind of okay. I’m not depressed. I’m learning to do things I used to love doing. I’m able to invest time in a relationship I’m happy with. I don’t want to sleep until I die… Things are better than they’ve been in a really long time. While it was only a few months ago that I was so incredibly low I didn’t even know what to do with myself, I’ve already forgotten how that felt. Yes, I can tell you I was depressed, that I felt tired all the time, that nothing brought me joy, that I binge-ate all the time just to feel a satisfied fullness, that I thought I might be better off dead, that I gave up things I loved because nothing mattered, that I neglected myself in exchange for taking care of my animals, and that I was barely living (more like surviving). When I think about that, though, I don’t feel the agony I know I felt then. I can’t put myself back there.

I’ve fought really hard to get where I am, and I know that. Still, when I think about it, I’m like “that wasn’t so hard.” It was. It was the hardest shit I’ve gone through in my whole life. I know that, but I can’t FEEL that. You know? I remember the battle, but I’ve forgotten the blood. So much blood.

My point is… if your meds seem off, it’s worth getting them adjusted. You’ve forgotten the blood.

Started Cymbalta today. Shrink is trying to get me off Effexor. It’s making me reflective… also sleepy.

My Cervix Hurts

I had to go get a pap smear today. I haven’t had one since 2015. Why? Because I fail them. I’ve been getting them since I was 12 and I’ve failed all but 1. It gets annoying. It gets frustrating and depressing… so I just stopped. But, you can’t dodge that forever, especially when your family runs RAMPANT with cancer.

So I went, and it was a surreal kind of experience.

When I previous went to my doctor, several things were standard at the well woman physical. The nurse would try to pry information on my entire sexual history out of me. (Which I still don’t get. Who I was fucking before my 2.5 year celibacy break does NOT effect my current sexual health.) I’d take a pregnancy test. My birth control would be held hostage until I came in for the pap smear. My doctor would remind me that this was all for my well being.

A Kaiser well woman is a lot…. less. Just less. I went in. They took vitals, as usual, and then we did a quick breast exam and a pelvic exam, followed by a Gardasil shot. THAT’S IT. Now… I don’t say a lot of good things about Kaiser, because I hate them and I’d like to set their corporation on fire from the inside out, but this was great. No interrogation. No suspicion of pregnancy. In and out. Easy peasy.

But… as always… my cervix hurts and I’m probably going to fail the pap… so that’s no good, but whatever.

Chris was a real sweetheart about this, cuz I was complaining and then had a panic attack in the doctor’s office… and he was his usual suspiciously supportive self. He assured me that if anything was wrong “WE” would get through it and get it fixed, and then he told me about his Magic Tournament this weekend to distract me. He’s great. I love how great he is. I love him. It’s gross.


In other news.

Someone asked me to describe what living with mental illness is like. Here’s my metaphor.

It’s like… you’re the paste eating kid in grade school.

Everyone knows something is up with you, but can’t always figure out what it is until an incident. Then they know, and they treat you different for it. Sometimes it’s mockery, sometimes it’s avoidance, sometimes it’s lectures and repercussions, sometimes it’s someone telling you to just stop… but even if you get better and you move on with life, there will always be the people who know what happened, and they’ll tell other people, and you’re the kid that ate paste for the rest of your life…

The longer you go without eating paste, the more you can laugh at it, the less other people will know, and the less people who know will talk about it. But you always know you’re the kid that ate paste… and you always live with that shame, even though it wasn’t something you meant to do.

If you don’t get better… you’re always the weirdo that eats paste, no matter what else you do. You could cure cancer, and you’ll still be remembered for paste… it’s always going to be a footnote in a textbook about you… “They cured cancer! But also they ate paste… so… think about that.”

Mood Drop

I’m sad today… and I don’t really know why.

I took my meds…. AND the boyfriend came over for a while last night. We watched The Orville, which is hilarious… We snuggled, which I love… We argued about Star Wars, which was a riot… I threatened to take his legs so he can never leave, which sparked a laugh about how he’s not used to my dark sense of humor… But after he left, I dunno. I felt like something was wrong.

I can’t really explain what was missing or wrong. I felt like I talked too much… but he assured me I didn’t, and that he likes listening to me talk, because I’m interesting and know lots of things. I just… I dunno. I’ve been down since then.

I took my meds last night. I took them this morning. He’s been snapping me all morning. Everything is fine. Work is fine. I just feel…. wrong… And I don’t like it.

Unsure how to proceed.

Mi Novio

I had a lovely week last week. Chris’ daughter was out of town, so I got extra Chris time.

Saturday we went to the dog park. He brought Koopa, his boxer, and I brought Kyrie. I wasn’t sure how she’d do, but after she settled the fuck down she had a great time. Wore her out, though.

After that we went back to my place and watched IT, because he hadn’t seen it yet. Turns out he hasn’t seen the old one with Tim Curry, either. That’s really okay, since Tim Curry is the only good part of the old one, but he was like, “I wish they’d do a sequel where the kids come back as adults to fight it again.” And I was like OMG THEY DO! It’s gonna be great! Lol.

After that we went to Chili’s for dinner, and then to 2nd & Charles, where I bought way too many books. I have a book problem. But it was nice. I love 2nd & Charles. We ran into Bren and Michael, too. That was weird and fun. Lol. Michael is adorable. He kept making me go look at Mario shit with him.

Then we went back to my place and tried to figure out how to play my Call of Cthulhu: The Card Game. We were not entirely successful. I am going to look at the rule book this week and see if I can make any better sense of it so we can play. Lol. Half the problem was that Frankie wouldn’t leave Chris alone, though… she’s such a menace, but he takes it well.

I know it’s stupid to be excited about, but I asked him if he was my boyfriend and he said yes. Lol. At 29 it feels stupid to be excited about that, but I like the solidarity of titles. I don’t have to guess if we’re doing a thing here. We are.

My moods have been better. They were real whacked out at the end of last week for some reason. I’ve been better since the last entry, but I’m still going to tell my shrink about it tomorrow to see if she thinks I need a med adjustment… I’m betting I do… I’m still impulsively doing weird shit… like buying books… and declaring people mi novio.

In general, I’m happy. Things are pretty good, all things considered. I have some things I’d like to change, but I can do it gradually. I just… I dunno. I feel like I’m missing something and I haven’t figured out what it is yet… It’s odd.