So I saw him today. We went for our 30 minutes. He gave me a diagnosis of PTSD with Borderline traits. Not Borderline. Yay! Then I asked if I could talk to him for another 10 minutes. But, on to what happened next.
OK, actually first let's go over what happened during the first part. I walked in, he did his frown again, and I asked him what that was. He sort of wiffle-waffled, so I said "You did it last time too." He said it was due to the fact that he was trying to remember what went on in last session. I said "So, it doesn't mean you're trying to tell me something without telling me something?" "No" he said. (He also said later that doctors were human too, which I think he was relating to the whole frowning thing.)
So we got on with it. He asked me a ton about my drug use. I told him everything. LSD, my one time with Crystal Meth, GHB, K (done with that chick with needles), Ecstasy, the little coke I did; fuck what else? Hash, pot, DXM (of course), whippets, Xanax, alcohol (obviously), no heroin though. I'm sure I'm forgetting some, but this is getting tedious.
Good gosh, I hope my family never reads this and figures out it's me. Right now I'm the good kid who is not an addict and has her shit together. Ha.
So next, he asked me a bit about my father. When he died, how often I saw him. I told him about him hitting me when I was 13, and Uncle Sam's fuckery. Then going to Uncle Sam's house the next night for dinner. He asked about mom's shit and I told him about the walking home. F asked about verbal abuse. I told him mom told me I was unlikable and mean. Not stupid. But fat, in a veiled way. And gross. And mean and unlovable.
F then told me he was abandoned, ignored, and not taken care of. He said this on his own, I didn't ask. But I love hearing it. I mean I didn't love hearing that he was hurt. But, I just want to relate to him. I just wanted to take care of him. Pathological, I know. But he is so attractive and fragile. Fuuuck I like him. Or at least what he has let me know about himself in session.
He tells me he thinks I have PTSD, not borderline. Yay, again. I don't know how to fix it though. And he's just my meds check guy. He basically told me that later. Yeah, so later.
We get done about 10:45. Someone calls him on the phone to check to see if he's heading out to a meeting at 11 am. He tells them to go on without him. He then talks about how there's a merger going on and they are having many tedious meetings about it. He doesn't want to go. I think I volunteer that he can say I'm in crisis and not go. He may have brought it up, I'm not sure. But I say, if you have 10 minutes, I have something I'd like to talk about. He assents.
So I say, "I don't think I can see you anymore because I like you". He gets an "oh, I don't know what to do" look on his face. And he doesn't know what to do because he says NOTHING. I blunder on saying I looked it up online and know it's transference, but online they say you should tell your doctor.
More later.
Well, that's one way to lose these walking blues... I'm writing this to deal with my trip down the therapy highway. Enjoy. Or don't. Whatever and ever, Amen.
Showing posts with label Borderline Personality Disorder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Borderline Personality Disorder. Show all posts
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Ralph is scared of me.
I'm not in need of sutures or the f'ing hospital. I guess I just need someone to tell me they like me.
Fuck, I am a person with BPD. Yeah, and admitting it makes people not even want to try. Fuck, it's more popular to be Bipolar.
Fuck you Ralph. You let me down. As will everyone else on JA. Because no one on JA can help me, solely due to the fact of it's process.
Well, I tried.
And now none of the "7000 experts online" will touch this shit. Maybe I should be flattered? I have created a problem so scary that no one will touch it?
It still feels horrible. But I can take it. That's the point, right? I can take it. I can take it. I can take it. I can take it. I can take it.
So, I'm taking it.
Fuck you Ralph. I know it's not fair, but you left my ass. And I've paid you . Not much, but a lot for a student. So fuck you. Just don't even start to answer questions that are too hard for you.
Good night for now. I'll probably cut about two more lines. Of course making them as deep as I can. Wussy pants if they're not as deep as the others. Bleeding hard is good. But it's not an emergency, and I don't need stitches. Are all the experts as touchy as Ralph. Because he had obviously not dealt with my kind before.
I'm a beginner according to what I've read. An amateur.
Fuck, I am a person with BPD. Yeah, and admitting it makes people not even want to try. Fuck, it's more popular to be Bipolar.
Fuck you Ralph. You let me down. As will everyone else on JA. Because no one on JA can help me, solely due to the fact of it's process.
Well, I tried.
And now none of the "7000 experts online" will touch this shit. Maybe I should be flattered? I have created a problem so scary that no one will touch it?
It still feels horrible. But I can take it. That's the point, right? I can take it. I can take it. I can take it. I can take it. I can take it.
So, I'm taking it.
Fuck you Ralph. I know it's not fair, but you left my ass. And I've paid you . Not much, but a lot for a student. So fuck you. Just don't even start to answer questions that are too hard for you.
Good night for now. I'll probably cut about two more lines. Of course making them as deep as I can. Wussy pants if they're not as deep as the others. Bleeding hard is good. But it's not an emergency, and I don't need stitches. Are all the experts as touchy as Ralph. Because he had obviously not dealt with my kind before.
I'm a beginner according to what I've read. An amateur.
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