Monday, August 18, 2014


So, I finally have an appointment to see someone in an actual psychiatric place instead of just my GP (which is itself just a nurse practitioner, because that's what you get when you're on Medi-CAL). Thing is, just the anticipation of the visit, and the trip to get there, has me in a panic state. What the fuck am I going to be like when I'm actually there?

I'm sure some of the fretting is due to the original visit (to check if I'm nuts enough to be allowed back, because sure, why not) where the lady was so horrible, condescending and, and, ...browbeating that I spent the week afterward vacillating between wanting to kill me and wanting to kill her. It has just colored my whole expectation of what this next visit is going to be like that I honestly don't know if what that doctor is going to see is a crying wreck, a shrieking monster, or just a shut-off, sniveling lump.

Anyway. I just don't fucking know, and the not-knowing combined with the expecting-horribleness is conspiring to give me the resting heart-rate of a hummingbird.


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