The only way I can describe the last week has been stressful, my son, who is normally a lovely little boy turn into the spawn of Satan.
I had various bits and pieces going on which has just made my anxiety much much worse, which I will probably go into more detail later.
But what I wanted to focus on is the main cause of my anxiety, which is something which is meant to help.
My appointment with my shrink.
This is the first one with a new shrink, turns out it wasn’t just with a new shrink it was the new shrink and his student.
I often find the best way to get something is to get someone in an uncomfortable position and they normally will agree with anything just to get it over and done with. This is how asking me, if I mind if a student sits in feels.
I had spent the entire night, plus the morning , trying to figure out whether the anxiety of going was worse than the panic of phoning and cancelling, or the aftermath of just not going and possible being discharged.
In the end I went with going, cause you know, its meant to be helpful.
The student took the session, while the shrink sat on his computer typing.
At the end, I get told, I don’t need drugs and due to my sensitivity to them it would be best, instead, if I go to a form of group therapy.
I have spent two fucking years avoiding crowds, because of the crippling anxiety. I have got better I am not going to deny that, but trying to get me to go to a group therapy session at regular times is just not something which I can commit to. If I could I would be bloody working.
It has really annoyed me up to the point of asking my doctor to discharge me from the mental health team, as it cause me such anxiety getting there, the panic of never knowing who I am going to see and having to start again every few months with a new shrink, it starting to take its toll.
I am in a catch 22 situation. I want to get better, but the thing that is meant to make me better is causing me more stress.