Skip to content

The day of reckoning

October 30, 2009

I’m seeing the Psychiatrist later, after last week’s muck up.

I don’t know what to say, that hasn’t already been said. Whatever I say needs to keep me on Citalopram, but I don’t know how to say that really, things aren’t so great. Not awful, but not er, well. I had my first risk assessment in so long the other day, by the Psychologist Lady. I’d forgotten how uck they are, and how they try and break into the thoughts you don’t want to tell. All the notes are interdisciplinary, so I’ll soon have sold my life to him anyway.

I hate him. Hate is a strong word, and I hardly ever use it, but I actually dislike this man from the pit of my stomach.

I have to tell him about that highness I had; can’t wait. I got all prepared last week, and I’m sure I had good words to explain everything. Now, speaking and sentences are a struggle. I can’t remember words that express things the way I want to express things. I can explain in a monotone no humour added way, but that’s boring and not me. I want to happily lace my words with humour, bile or sarcasm, situation dependent.

I guess I should go to lectures really, instead of hiding in my room away from the world…

Advertisements
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: