So I was supposed to break the news to my old therapist today that I have been seeing someone else and no longer desire to see him. Well that’s not quite how it went. Somehow in my garbled language he misunderstood and now I will be seeing both SallyJessie and Mr. Douche. I don’t know how I failed, I rehearsed and recited over and over in my head. “No really it’s you, not me.” He tricked me is what he did. I told him about the recent conclusion to be tested for a new diagnosis or two and he said, “Oh I’ll see Dr. Soandso at lunch and I’ll let him know.” Can we say near instant gratification? I could be making my appointment for testing within days instead of weeks. Well it will probably still be weeks, don’t get your hopes up. I don’t know why this new diagnosis is so important to me. I am the same, the only thing that has changed is a label, a sentence on my cover sheet. I feel vindicated in all my weirdness that I have a reason for said weirdness. There is a reason I do the things I do and I can learn to cope with that reason, it takes some of the mystery out of my behaviors.
With this recent turn of events I am now up to four professionals for my mental health. Two PDocs and two therapists, heretofore referred to as my team. I have a team. These people are going to straighten me out. At least until we move in February, then I will start from scratch in the new local.
I try not to think about the move too much. It actually terrifies me, my fight or flight response kicks in and it’s hard to breathe. Medicated as I am my anxiety has been pretty well behaved of late as long as I don’t leave the house or try anything new. The trazadone I take to sleep actually helps with the teeth grinding and I like to think they are not quite as loose as they were. I’m still riding the hypomanic high but am feeling in more of a mixed state. I’ll figure it out once its over like I always do.