The day started out with a visit to my pdoc. As some of you know, I decided to just ditch my meds for the last 5 days. Well, the emotionality of the week had apparently built up to levels unknown to me... I was so f***ing angry when I got to my pdoc appointment. I didn't even look at him. Gave one word answers, shrugged a lot. Finally told him that I stopped taking the medication. So he asks why and I said "Because I didn't feel like taking it anymore." Screw him. Does he expect me to launch into a psychoanalytic explanation? So then he goes, "Well you are seeing Ray later today... Talk about this with him. Will you call me later today or tomorrow to let me know your decision about the meds?" I said, "Fine. Thanks." And got up and walked out. I told him that I just don't see the point. I'm sitting there for 15 minutes while he asks questions about my symptoms. Then he initially suggests increasing the dose of my mood stabilizer. Then he finds out I'm not taking it anymore, and suddenly it's up to me to let him know whether or not I will continue to take the meds. No speech, no suggestions, nothing. I said to him, "What is this even for?" And he says, 'It's supposed to stabilize your moods." I said, "Yeah, thanks. I think I know what it's supposed to do. I just don't understand the point of a medication if the decision is to increase it, continue where I am at, or stop it."

So that session was lovely. At this point, I was so angry that I punched my steering wheel really hard when I got back into the car. I knew that in a couple hours I would be seeing T, and I was completely overwhelmed at the thought of talking to him. I was still angry as hell at him and in addition to this, I had 8 pages of single spaced revelations and analysis I had done throughout the week.

I was seriously starting to have an emotional breakdown. I had this overwhelming sense that I needed to push people away. I felt extremely disconnected from everyone, and wanted to make it so that it was even more.

An half hour before I was to leave for T, it all fell apart. My stomach completely lost it, and I couldn't even leave the bathroom. I started having a panic attack-- felt like I couldn't breathe. I made it to therapy, but I felt horrible. I hadn't felt like this in so long. I had never had that type of reaction in front of T before. I told him, "I don't want to talk today." He said that was fine, that I didn't have to if I didn't want to. I felt so stupid, so exposed having this type of emotional reaction in front of him. I told him I was so scared, that I had never felt so unsafe there before. There wasn't too much said in the 1st portion of the session. My stomach felt so horrible, I thought I was going to vomit if I even tried to speak. Finally, I took out my 8 pages of journal and told him that it was too overwhelming, that I couldn't even begin to talk about what was in it. Then he came up with this analogy-- it had to do with reading Russian novels. He referenced a couple of books that I never told him I read-- but somehow he knew I read them just because he knows me. We talked a bit about existentialism. I started to feel a little safer. It was such a weird session, it blew by-- before I knew it, it was over. I had such feelings of unreality the whole time, I didn't even realize time had been moving. He said that next week we would start by talking about what it will be like to get mad at him. I told him that I had written that I wanted him to be sorry for ever pissing me off. He said that he probably should be sorry-- that maybe he did something stupid to %#@&#! me off, so why not be sorry? I said that it was okay to be made, but not okay to spite and manipulate people and act out when angry. Then for the first time, he leaned all the way forward, looked into my eyes, and said very strongly, "Robyn-- (yeah, that's my name by the way, lol), it's okay in here." I so badly wanted to ask if I could come in on Friday. But I didn't.

When I got home I needed to lay down. I listened to some music, and got all the tears out. Then I took my cell phone, went outside, and called him. On his voicemail, I said, "Hey Ray...(yes, I even used his name for the first time)... I feel stupid as usual, but I need to ask you if I can come in on Friday. I wanted to ask you today, but I felt uncomfortable. I would like to come in so we can talk some more. Please call me back tomorrow to let me know." I couldn't believe I did it with (practically) no hesitation. So, we shall see what happens when he calls back tomorrow...

I am so drained. Physically, emotionally. Drained.