Everything went well today with the new psych Dr. NP to be accurate, which to me means more training and real world experience. I like the guy and that’s kudos but also he listened to what I had to say, even despite the fact that I dragged my three year old along and she was incredibly restless and even yelling at times. He asked some uncomfortable questions and probed uncomfortable areas, which I guess is in the job description. He didn’t write for the ECT referral then and there, but said he would confer with his supervisor about it. It seemed like he was on board with it and told me I may here from him in the next couple weeks, if not we would talk more about it when I see him in a month. I am not really looking forward to having another month tacked on to my wait so I hope he doesn’t drag his feet. This is my life we are talking about. I felt like he did see me as a person and not just another patient to deal with and he didn’t have that burnt out pez dispenser look in his eyes, but you never know.
Meanwhile the preteen is not doing great with her recent med change. She went back to trileptal after gaining 40lbs on abilify and it doesn’t seem to be working the magic it did before. She is an angry, bitter shell of a girl right now and I feel her pain. She doesn’t have an appointment until the first week of march, so its a waiting game for her as well. She is being quite the handful. Which adds to my stress level which brings my mood down, which makes me less able to cope with her. It’s a vicious cycle. It didn’t bolster my self-esteem any when my mom came down this morning during the get out of bed fiasco, she was kind enough to point out that I had created a spoiled monster. Like my childhood was perfect and my failings as a parent have nothing to do with her and how she parented me. The injustice if it astounds me. I feel like a whiny teenager when I say that’s unfair. Her holier than thou, better parent than me attitude is really getting to me. Especially when today the doc asked me if I had been emotionally abused and I said yes! I finally said yes. Yes to emotional abuse as a child. Not by my mom so much, but by my older sister. I once wrote a three page rant about childhood with her as a sibling but I deleted it. Great parents don’t let shit like what happened to me at the hands of my sister happen. It is so tempting to throw that up in her face when she is going on about how crappy a job I am doing. But I haven’t told a soul the things my sister made me do, especially not my mom. I almost told doc today because it has been weighing heavily on my mind. Almost.
For Valentine’s day I got to face time my deployed husband for ten minutes, fight with a moody preteen, listen to remarks on my parenting from the best parent ever and drag a fussy three year old to my psych appointment. I have a long history of crappy Valentine’s days and this one just got added to the list.