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angry after T session. (long) *possible triggers*

Posted by ghost on May 4, 2004, at 23:02:30

maybe venting will make me feel better.

first, some background:

i saw a T for one intake visit about 6 or so years ago. i got a terrible vibe from her. i felt like she was bored with me. like i wasn't a legitimate case. i felt like she was disgusted with my bisexuality, and that she thought i was a spoiled brat because i didn't come from an abusive house (most of her questions involved abuse of some sort) but i was depressed and suicidal. i never went back.

about 10 months ago or so, i hit a real low, and finally sought help. i got a T and a pdoc, and some meds (abilify, a low dose to start). i met with the T three times, and each time i didn't feel that it was helping... the only suggestion he ever really offered was that i "needed to learn" not to be so black and white in my opinions of things and people. no help in doing it... anyhow. the last visit i had with him he spent it talking to me about his nephew and his nephew's interest in chatting online (i had started out by saying i met a new friend online-- i never really got to talk about the reason i brought it up in the first place). an hour listening to him talk. it was a waste of my time.

the pdoc wasn't much better. i kept seeing him because he gave me samples of abilify so i didn't have to buy it out of pocket, not because i felt he was helping me get better (beyond providing my meds). he didn't seem to ask the "right" questions, if he asked any at all. he usually ushered me out of the office 5 minutes after i came in for a 15 or 30 minute visit, even when i said "i had a rough week" or something to that effect, trying to say i needed help.

a few months ago, i became very depressed. i was unhappy with every aspect of my life. i started thinking about suicide. a lot. mostly just fantasizing about it. i kept calling the office asking if my pdoc could see me that week, and he was never available. i never had the guts to say "it's important." i finally got in one week, i said i was depressed, that i wasn't happy. my eating and sleeping habits were erratic. i needed help. he upped my dose, told me to wait a week. this was repeated a few times until i was taking about 10x the dose of abilify i'd started at. the ADD-like symptoms the abilify had given me from the beginning were amplified a million-fold. i was irritable, depressed, nothing was improving. i had suggested a med change or addition (antidepressant perhaps) for the dreary winter months, but the pdoc wasn't receptive. just said to "wait it out."

i made the decision to quit taking meds and quit seeing the pdoc. i lost a lot of faith in mental health professionals.

that brings me to the present. i few weekends ago i hit a real low. suicidal fantasies and thoughts. i've kind of accepted the fact that life is just this pointless game... maybe you go to school for awhile, but then you find a job to pay bills only to generate more bills-- keep working, paying bills, working, paying bills, endless cycle of bs. just to die. what's the difference if i die now or later? if i died now, i'd just be cutting to the chase.

i had hoarded a large supply of xanax from when i was seeing the pdoc-- he'd prescribed me a large amount of pills with a refill (in order to save me money) when i started having panic attacks due to the abilify. i took some for their intended use, but once i quit the abilify i still had a large number of them left. i am not stupid-- i used to work in the healthcare field. i kept them, "just in case." i guess you can say that's my plan.

i told this to the T today and he seemed very concerned. he wanted me to get rid of them. i said no. he wanted me to bring them in and have them "hold onto them" for me. i said no. he said why. i said i felt comfortable having them in my possession. what nerve! i was angry. they're mine, fair n square. i have the right to end my life if i want to, and i have every right to hang onto my means to do it. it's not even like i'm breaking any laws. they're my pills. fair n square. they're mine.

i didn't like talking about suicide with him. as he asked more questions i got the impression he was just trying to gather information to cover his ass. at the end of the session, he said he was concerned because it puts him in an awkward position. so it makes me angry in one sense that he's got to cover his ass-- he cant just sit back and listen. but in another sense i feel really bad that i've burdened him at all with the information.

i did commit to not doing anything until we met again, but it was hard to do. (i mentioned this in a different post.) i don't know if i can uphold my end of the bargain. i don't even know if i *want* to. i just don't want to be here any more. i feel like there's no point. but i don't know what to do. i want to be locked up for awhile where i don't have to do this on my own. but i didn't know how to bring that up. i don't know how some stupid promise is supposed to work. i feel like he just made me do it to cover his own ass. not that i blame him. but i don't feel it was very helpful.

i feel like i'm drowning, but i'm not lucky enough to die. i'm just held under long enough to get used to the idea, and then pulled back above the water, only to be shoved back under again for awhile. tortured and teased with the thought of death simultaneously.


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poster:ghost thread:343454
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20040503/msgs/343454.html