My brain is so dull I can’t even think of a relevant title, much less a clever one. I miss being smart. It feels like I’ve lost a lot of my IQ with the anxiety and depression this time.
When I say “This time” I am counting the past two years.
I don’t know… Maybe I was always this colorless and uninteresting and unintelligent and I’ve only finally realized. I haven’t tested that theory, since I haven’t done anything needing creativity in a very, very long time. No writing. No drawing except for one fluke, no baking, a few decent pictures (But still quite generic)… I haven’t even had sex in two years. I don’t know which part of your brain controls creative thought, but I think it’s shriveled up in me. It’s hard to believe that I planned on supporting myself by photography and writing. It’s probably good I quit school when I did before I owed out 25k instead of a measly 5k.
My new therapist is nice. I haven’t seen her enough to know if she’s effective, but at least she’s nice. Kiera is also going to start seeing her over the adhd anger and nightmares. Hopefully things will be better in that regard soon.
My new psychiatrist, however, is doing the dance. The “I’m going to ignore the bpd symptoms and focus on the symptoms that point to bipolar” And she kind of insulted me by asking if I was attention-seeking. Which is code for overdramatic faker. It surprised the hell out of me that a psychiatric professional would use such a… I don’t know… Wrong thinking. That’s not what bpd is. It’s been proven that our minds are physically incapable of feeling in degrees. That it’s like living with no emotional skin. That I’d do anything in my power to keep from being abandoned if i thought it would save me. But I knew it wouldn’t so I didn’t. The way she pulpit, It felt like she was pointing and screaming “Lying Bitch!”, though I know that is definitely just overdramatising. But I’m not screaming about it. I honestly almost walked out. But I need to keep seeing a psychiatrist and therapist. Maybe I’ll talk to my therapist about it tomorrow. She keeps reminding me that it’s okay to be bothered by things, but dwelling and obsessing and getting caught up in the bad emotions is just hurting me.
I don’t know. I’m trying not to be whiny or depressed. I mostly just feel empty and numb. I would hope that new meds would help, but they put me on another antiseizure medication (Lamictal, which I’ll never remember) rather than an anti-anxiety med or antidepressant. So we’ll see. I don’t have much hope, and there are severe side effects like “life-threatening skin rash and multi-organ failure”, both of which sound like a party, but they do sound better than what the Abilify did.
But there are good things, like the girls are doing well in school and newish car and their dad got a great job which means he will help me with the girls and bills. I could be bitter that he didn’t do it when we were married, but he is helping now, so better late than never. Maybe things will stop being so bleak.