Conclusion-- I think

First of all, I'm on medication again, and I will be seeing a doctor back in Londonderry every two weeks until I can make an appointment with a psychiatrist. It's not ideal, but I don't have to see my creepy pediatrician doctor (I'm seeing one of the RNPs instead) and at least this means I can get my life/grades back on track in the meantime.

I also didn't go to class Thursday or Friday-- Friday because of the doctor's appointment, and Thursday because Wednesday night I had a bit of a breakdown and cried for several hours, and Ryter had to come get me and made me spend the night at his place so he could keep an eye on me and keep me company.

I feel bad for Ryter-- he's been trying so hard to help keep me stable and get me back on track, and meanwhile he's been having issues of his own, most recently the fact that his dentist crowned the wrong tooth, so he's going to have to deal with either forcing the dentist's office to make all the repairs free of charge as well as not charging him for the original crown, or else initiating a malpractice lawsuit. And he's been feeling like he shouldn't be complaining to me, despite the fact that I've told him it's okay, since I'm complaining to him. But he's been incredibly supportive and sweet, even if he was displeased that I asked for help from my mom rather than trying to pull through and do what was needed on my own.

I guess I should have, but I honestly didn't know what to do. The problem I have is that unlike Ryter, I never lived away from my parents until college, so my mom tended to just take care of all my medical stuff for me. Now I can make most appointments, but when I run up against a system I really don't understand, when I genuinely don't know what to do, I call her, and she can usually figure out something. Like in this case, having me go to a normal doctor's office not connected to the school, so they wouldn't just send me to the Mental Health Services people and make me wait. There's no way in hell I would have thought of that, because I didn't know that non-psychiatric doctors prescribed antidepressants. And next time I can do it on my own (if there is a next time, which I doubt).

It will take me a while before I can be fully independent. I expect to call my mom the first time I want to plan an elaborate Christmas dinner for my family and have it all ready at the same time, or if I'm the victim of fraud, because I've never experienced those kinds of things before. I mean, Ryter had to call his dad over the whole malpractice thing, partially due to the fact it's his insurance, of course, but also because it's just hard to know what to do in a situation you have never experienced before.

Next week, I'll call the psychiatrist in Dover and try to make an appointment, and also start calling around and trying to find a new therapist. There's one that is right next to campus and a very quick walk, plus she does Cognitive Behavioral Therapy which I am told might work well on me. If she's taking new clients that would be perfect. If not, I think my next option will probably be seeing one of the therapists who works in the same facility as the psychiatrist.

I have a plan. Plans are good.

"You cannot shake hands with a clenched fist."

Today is the Faunalia, to honor Faunus. The Romans celebrated this festival with a dance done in triple measure, the same dance done by the priests of Salii, the priests of Mars/Ares. It's also the Parentalia, a festival for honoring your parents, as long as they're dead. Families offered sacrifices of grain and wine on the tombs of loved ones. And it's also the Feralia, a feast to honor Jupiter Feretrius-- Jupiter/Zeus in his role as guaranteer of oaths.

Also my mother's birthday. Excuse me while I go call her.

----------------

My therapist wants me to write down every time I want to say something but I'm not sure if it's appropriate, for the next three weeks until I see her again. I bought myself a THICK notebook.

----------------


Helpful: Talking to me until I stop crying about how I'm going to hell in a hand basket. Holding doors open for me when I'm on crutches because my leg started to hurt again and I had a long walk ahead of me. Letting me have the front seat in a class because it's too hard to get to the back.

Not Helpful: Lighting up a cigarette right next to me when I'm already about to puke from nausea and I have a headache from this stupid cold. Buses that run really, really late. Oh, and the prize for Not Helpful: telling me, right after I have a mental breakdown and am petrified that I won't be able to handle medical school or even get in and that I am a huge, worthless loser, that no one in my family ever thought I'd make it through med school anyway.

"Oh, feeling hopeless? Well, that's okay, we never believed in you anyway!"

(The prize for Helpful goes to my bra, on account of my losing my earring, searching for it for about ten minutes, despairing of ever finding it again [which would be sad as I like these earrings and they're not easily replaceable], and then feeling something jabbing me in the chest. On further inspection, I realized the earring had fallen down my shirt while sleeping in class and snagged on my bra. Talk about supportive underwear.)

----------------

Crazy day planned for tomorrow. Should be miserable. It's a Wednesday, after all. But much studying awaits me-- I have an exam at 8 AM-- so I'm off.