Oh goody, Day 2.

Day 2 was a f'in disaster from start to finish. I walk in about 8:15, things start at 9 but they give you a voucher to go eat breakfast first. Free food always works well for me.

I come back from breakfast to discover that my pdoc has ordered some bloodwork and a urinalysis. I was TOLD that he would check my desipramine levels, because that med seems to have been problematic for me lately. As I'm walking down to the lab, I'm reading the work order. He's also testing me for cocaine, alcohol, and I forget what else, which offended the hell out of me -- never done street drugs, and I'm not ALL that interested in dying, so being on a benzo for anxiety, I don't drink. Then there was a "complete metabolic panel," a thyroid test, and something else, I forget what.

Heeeeey, thanks for clueing me in, doc! Worst part is, my insurance company probably won't pay for any of it. I had a physical when I was inpatient, which took all of 10 minutes, and they charged almost $300!

So anyway, then the first group of the day begins. I am on every therapist's radar screen because I keep putting "10" on a 1-10 scale for "urge to harm self." I am in this place to begin with because -- well, never mind because, it might trigger somebody. Let's say I had progressed to some particularly scary self-injurious behavior. I still want to do it. They can't deal with that.

The members of this group are all 50+. One guy is ****80*****. I am 39. The therapists are 50+, and the secretary and student intern are at a minimum 15 years younger than me. I have zero peer support.

After check-in group, we get a lecture on "the disease process," and why we all have illnesses instead of just weak characters. The illiterate guy has PTSD, and brings it up. Soooo, we start talking about PTSD. In detail. Guess what? I have PTSD. Off Candy goes to Trigger-Land. Then I get so anxious I can barely breathe. Guess what? Left the f'in Klonopin at home. Ooops! Lot of good it does me there!

So I'm off in flashback land, anxious as hell, and we're going on and on about all this.

Lunch rolls around. Lunch is fine, no problems. When we come back, since there are 12 of us, they split us up into two groups. One does "goal group," where you write down a few goals you are hoping to accomplish before tomorrow, and then in the morning you have to write how successful you were at accomplishing them and sign the sheet. Everyone has to read their goals out loud so the therapist can write them down and people can comment on them if they like.

The illiterate guy can't write, but he can sure talk. He likes to cook. He REALLY likes to cook. So we have a recipe hour. He's a Vietnam vet, so we talk about Vietnam experiences for a while. The really manic-phase bipolar guy, who has to comment on everything everybody says, at great length, starts going on about a craft fair out at the state fair grounds this weekend.

This is a 90-minute group. Out of 6 people, I am the last to go. We get to me at ..... minute 87.

So THEN I'm pissed off about the waste of time. Oh, the 80-year-old joined a senior center, so he had to tell everyone he met today at least 3 times that he joined a senior center.

Then the groups switch, and my group goes to "process group," a cutesy name for "group therapy." Everybody has to bring up an issue to bat around. Since the same therapist has run our group both days, she starts off asking about the stuff we brought up yesterday. I fill her in on that. Anything else, she says? Yes, I say, I'm having a really crappy day. What I didn't get to say is, it's pouring outside, freezing, this is costing my insurance company $650 a day and it's f'ing wasting my time, I want to cut, and I'm nearly suicidal from all the triggers today.

I didn't get any farther than "I'm having a crappy day." So we talked about being triggered by the PTSD lecture, and how the only way to get rid of PTSD is to talk about it, and oh BTW, I talked to your therapist today, what a wonderful guy, and then says "I hope you don't mind my bringing this up" and before I can even ask what it is I might mind, she spills it. In front of the whole f'ing group. It is something that I do NOT want particularly publicized.

Sigh.

Worst part? Gotta go back tomorrow.

I'm going to go take a nap now. It's the least harmful thing I can think of to do. Thanks for letting me vent.

Candy