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God, what a life. I sent my therapist a long email last night with some violent videos attached, because that's how I was feeling. I wanted to put on my roller skates and stomp that psychiatrist until (violence) and David was being selfish in a way that he excels at. I have always given him so much emotional support, to say it's not returned is putting it mildly. But he absorbs exquisitely well.
I knew I had to sleep or else. So I took 50mg of Seroquel and did sleep and did awaken feeling substantially calmer. Kinda checked-out, but calmer. Less hyped up and my thoughts are not as chaotic and swirly. I need to be on an AP, even if only a fairly low dose. That stupid woman - what kind of psychiatrist doesn't prescribe AP's?! But - you know. I can be slow...I just thought of something. She's not truly a psychiatrist - she's a D.O. who specializes in psychiatry. I wonder if that's in great part why she was so ignorant about treating mental illness?
So this afternoon my therapist called, she said she is concerned about, well, the obvious. Talked with her for a long time and it was soothing. She wants me to go in for a session on Tuesday, so I will, despite my fear of that place. She said she absolutely promises me that that woman won't be on the premises, that she is definitely up in Washington.
I'm feeling afraid and fairly depressed, and now here comes the icky time of evening when the light is creepy. I'm not sure of what to do tonight. Take another 50mg of Seroquel? I also have a little bit of Zyprexa from months back, so I'm thinking of taking that? Then what, I don't know. Guess I'll take it half-day by half-day.
***Happy Birthday to HM the Queen, who is 96 today!***
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