I see the shrink in just under two hours. I am not excited. As per my usual, I was so anxious the night before I didn’t get to sleep until after 1 a.m. and I woke several times then when the alarm went off I hit snooze…It’s like moving through so much sludge. That and the fact I had only cigarette was just depressing. Pathetic but true. If I didn’t smoke, I’d be a world class flesh carver. The anxiety’s got to go somewhere.

I took care of the smokey treat thing this morning with a prompt visit to R. Not a word from him in 7 days and I didn’t exactly get the feeling I was being welcomed though I can’t recall a thing I could have done to offend. Who knows. But I got my smoke supplies and enough gas to get to the dr appointment and all I have to do is look up some parts and fetch him lunch. I can deal. Honestly, the week’s break from his drama was much needed. Just get irked how he expects me to drop everything for him yet when he doesn’t need anything from me, he’s okay to pretend I don’t exist. Narcissists.

What I am not sure I can deal with is a summer of my kid. Yesterday was…well, it wasn’t constant, it came in short bursts, but if it was a preview of my entire summer…I’m doomed. I let her play outside. She wanted her bike out. Fine. One of the training wheels came off. Now she wants them both off, only mommy doesn’t have the proper tool to remove the bolt which has rusted in place. Enter screaming mimi out in the yard. I brought her inside and made her sit on the couch and calm down. I quietly explained that I was not trying to be mean, I simply did not have a tool that would remove that bolt. She’s a kid, she wants it now, she wants it all, logic be damned.

I let her play on Neopets for awhile. She even sat on my lap and had me show her how to play some of the games. That was nice. Then her little heathen friend comes knocking. They’re not outside together sixty seconds and my kid is running back in. “I’m hungry. I’m thirsty.” I asked “Are you or is your friend demanding stuff?” She  says it’s her. I told her no. Next thing I hear is her running outside telling her friend, “Mommy said no I can’t give you food.” Brat lied right to my face. So thinking if I was the bad guy they wouldn’t blame her, I stepped outside and explained, “Hey, it’s very rude to come to someone’s house and ask for food. I would share if we had it but we simply don’t.” My kid lets out a blood curdling scream and starts yelling at me that I scared her friends off. Yeah, if they split as soon as being told no freebie food, it was all me.

My kid is so needy and desperate for friends, I swear she’d rip out her still beating heart if they demanded it. She keeps saying, “If I don’t give them things, they won’t be my friend.” It makes me furious. Those aren’t friends, those are freeloading little brats. Two years ago, I was in a good place mentally and I let her have all these kids over. On any given day I’d have ten kids in my yard. And she’d want a snack so I’d have to feed them and it was seriously putting us in a bind. Then came them destroying her stuff, busting in our doors, breaking in our window, stealing our mail…So yea, I am definitely scarred and on red alert when it comes to her “friends”. I don’t want to be that grouchy mean mom who won’t let the friends have snacks or use the bathroom and yet…Once bitten, twice shy. So all my kid’s anger comes back on me…

That was just one day.

Once I got her corralled inside, fed her, bathed her, and read to her..She went to bed without too much fight. By then, of course, I had no fight left in me. I needed a shower desperately, my legs need a weed whacker and I just..had nothing. Many times as my head would spin, I’d tell myself, “You’re awake, get up and do something, be productively miserable.” I just never could work up the will. Though I think I know now why my brain wants me in my crypt by 8pm. Sooner I lay down and start tossing and turning, sooner I can be asleep around ten or 11. I wait too long then I am tossing and turning until 1 a.m.

I made a list of what I want to talk to the doctor about. I always do that. They’re always hurried and ready with an explanation for every tiny thing. Yet no answers. Prozac, six months, still living in a fog…FFS, admit defeat. I wanna try the Cymbalta again. SNRI’s seem to do better for me during depressive bouts. Of course, I think he’s just gonna hear I’ve had no fatal reaction to the Trileptal, up it, and tell me it’s all anxiety and hypomania. I wish these shrinks could feel what it’s like to be treated so dismissively and walk out with less clarity than you went in with.

I am sweating buckets, humidity is thick. I should shower. I just don’t care. Why be pleasant looking on the outside if inside all I feel is dead and ugly? This is not me. It simply is not me. This is me when depressed for long bouts. So why isn’t he DOING something to help me? Or am I being too demanding wanting to feel better?

Ugh. Time to make the donuts. Or at least go serve time in the dish and have my morale beaten down further. For once, I just want something to go well, let me walk away feeling as if there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Kind of an oxymoron when dealing with psychiatrists.


One Response to “Pre-Shrunk”

  1. I hate not being taken seriously. I can go in with NOTEBOOKS and it’s all dismissed. Next time I’m gonna come unglued. Tired of the bullshit. Hope you were finally able to shower ❤ I've been wearing the mask too. It's alot of fucking work…I can send ya some razors if need be 😉

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