I will not go quietly

Weebie died a little over a week ago. Considering my mental state, I haven't had the ability to deal with it much. It is my fault; I should have taken her in to be looked at instead of assuming she would need surgery and trying to get a little more weight on her. No matter how I try, I still feel as if I fucked up.

It's because I did.

Today I had an appointment with a psychiatrist because my gyn wanted me to have someone overseeing my Buspar dosing, and christ, did I make a bad call there. I chose to go see the same psychiatrist Harry has used because she managed his epilepsy so well.

So much for that.

She did not listen to a word I said, and raged at me that I am not a doctor (well, I didn't say, I did not go to trade school, I have an academic degree, but, umm, yes, I am), I know nothing about the brain (that'd be *two* wrong, for those playing at home), and...let's just wrap it up with 'and so forth'. I spent more time hearing about what a worthless piece of shit I am than talking about what brought me there. And then I left.

I can only assume she feels that I have no business helping Harry, but whatever.

I am tired now. I have to start looking for another psychiatrist tomorrow. The lesson I am learning from this is that there are a lot of fucktard MDs out there with god complexes. And that, in the end, no one really cares unless you agree with them completely, prostrate yourself before them, and take whatever they tell you without question. And after lambasting me for over forty-five minutes (I stayed largely quiet), her 'wrap-up' was to tell me how smart and beautiful I am, and how if I would listen to her, I could accomplish so much; I told her that sounded like hollow, narcissistic love-bombing, and to please just can it.

Probably I am not her favourite patient.

I may be best off just winging this one, like I do with everything else.

Just don't ever fall for the lies. That's the best advice I can give you. Don't ever listen to someone who says your worth as a human being rests entirely on whether you unquestioningly will drink whatever Kool-Aid they are peddling. Don't ever be that desperate for help or companionship, regardless of what you think it is costing you. The 'sunk cost effect' is real, and it works. Just like love-bombing.

That's all I have.




- Posted using Speak-n-Blog from my Fisher-Price Chatter Pull Telephone