Went to visit my psychiatrist today. It used to be a weekly thing but now we've stretched it to every two months. Go me! I also used to have to go see a psychiatrist AND a therapist but I cut the therapist loose...I don't really like someone probing the dark inner recesses of my mind, you know?
So anyway, my psychiatrist visits are usually short and sweet, but also a little disturbing. My goal is to go in and say whatever I can to make him believe that I AM OKAY. His goal is apparently to see right through me and get at the truth.
Me, after a migraine-filled week in which I've taken 20 Vicodin and am feeling a little sick about it:
"I'm doing great!"
"So how much Vicodin do you take a day?"
Me, after spending two weeks in bed, avoiding my family, and Dwayne ordering me to tell the doctor about it:
"Everything is good!"
"So how's your relationship with Dwayne?"
Me, after another marathon migraine and my regular doctor gives up and refers me to a third neurologist:
"Doing really good!"
"So what has changed for you medically?"
It's a little strange and stalker-ish how he seems to know things! And I'm dying to know what he's writing down in his little notepad about me...
But it's worth the uncomfortable trip, to make sure I stay out of the hospital, healthy and on my meds.
So yay! I'm doing good. For now. Hopefully for the next two months. :)