The Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook for Bipolar Disorder: Using DBT to Regain Control of Your Emotions and Your Life (New Harbinger Self-Help Workbook):Amazon:Books The Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook for Bipolar Disorder: Using DBT to Regain Control of Your Emotions and Your Life (New Harbinger Self-Help Workbook):Amazon:Books

So I bought this book yesterday. My T is doing CBT and really not wanting to do anymore with me until I'm in a 'safe place,' whatever the F that means. He called me Thursday and I told him he had to start treating me. That what we were doing wasn't working. I enjoy him understanding me and it's somewhat comforting but I need real life HELP. Not to pay $35/hr for him to listen to me cry. Im not exaggerating either, I literally cry the whole hour (sometimes more if we aren't paying attention).

So anyway I thought I'd try to help myself. He thinks we can't do much more until my sister moves (see thread "oh god" in Borderline Personality forum). Says I have to create a new support system. I don't even know what that looks like. Im terrified. Don't I need help when Im scared?

So I bought this workbook partially to disprove my diagnosing pdoc that I hate, the one who put me on high doses of drugs and dropped me, horrible side effects and all. If she diagnosed me accurately, fine, but I need to hear it from someone who gives a crap. But this workbook, it's true, it's all true. Everything she said. And I didn't expect it to be true. Not this true. I'm broken. I'm so messed up and I didn't want to be. Not just cause I hate her but who wants this life? Who wants this diagnosis? Who can deal with all of this chaos?

To make matters worse after a five day round of prednisone a couple weeks ago the rash is back. Part of me wants to say nothing and hope it kills me. Part of me wants to again kill the diagnosing pdoc who put me on it and hung me out to dry. Not seeing this pdoc at the transitional clinic until 5/14. I'm just riding it out until then. I hope I can sue. I hate her. I hate her for letting me trust her everyday I was inpatient, I hate her for pretending to care and to be helpful to me. I hate her because she was right. I hate her for putting me on the wrong meds. I hate her every time I get on the scale and it's gone up five more pounds. I hate her, almost as much as I hate myself. Bad spot, broken heart, falling apart, just scraping myself up off of the floor to read Green Eggs & Ham to my girls before bed. I'm just not okay anymore.