|Current mood:|| drained|
dr take four?
I went back to the dr today. When she came in to the examining room I was already in the midst of a panic attack, and I think I started to cry all most immediately.
I spilled my heart-wrenching depression out onto her desk, because I knew if I tried to cover it up, I would leave wanting nothing more than to hurt myself. I think I may have accurately displayed my anxiety concerning going to Saskatchewan. I whispered "I'm so incredibly afraid" and there was something about the calm mixed with sadness in my whisper that made me shiver and her realize that things were Bad.
Things are really bad, worse than I think I realize. She must have said "I'm really concerned about you" three times.
I'm concerned about me too.
All of this fucking desperation isn't breeding creativity in any other aspect that possible suicide plans.
"You're headed for the hospital" she said.
"yeah, you know... I don't really believe that" I responded
"one would think my body would have reacted by now..."
"You're getting sicker, if you're at this point, it's not that far to go until you need to be hospitalized..."
I didn't really hear it. I still don't.
I'm not sick. I'm not headed for the hospital; I'm just headed for another semester where, with my head barely above water, I shine academically.
We talked about what I was going to do. The possibility of canceling my trip came up. She asked me what I would do if I didn't go away and I said I would just b/p and disconnect further from life. I told her I knew I would go. "what about telling your aunt?" she asked. "It would just be too awkward, even though she already knows... I don't know..."
She was realistic. "You're going to binge and purge while you're there, so plan for it" she told me. I guess I will. There will most likely be a few hours where I am alone on a few days.
Then there is the returning home and the week before school starts. The week here alone. The week that looks prime for executing a successful suicide.
She encouraged me to try to just b/p twice a day during that week. I said that part of me had plans to have an absolute heyday in everyone’s absence. At this point I think the heyday is more likely than the former. The suicide, despite all my trying to fight against temptation, seems most likely of all. No. no. no. I'm NOT going to kill myself. Not now. I'm not rational, therefore, lack the perspective needed to actually make that choice. I keep repeating that.
I count pills and repeat "depression is not the time to make life or death decisions."
I was hoping I would be able to see her that week before school, because I'm going to be an anxious fucking mess possibly in need of a short-term stabilization hospitalization, but she is going to still be on vacation. If things are really bad, I'm going to go and see someone else at the clinic, which is what she encouraged me to do. Things will have to be pretty fucking desperate though.
Instead I'll wait and see her that second Thursday in September, the day after school starts. Essentially a month from now. A month seems like an unbearably long time to go feeling like this. A month.
This last month has poured out slowly like cold molasses. It seems like ages ago now that my grandma died. That was just a month ago. Ages ago becomes four weeks when all the gears grind to a halt and you drift away.
Her concern didn't come without prescriptions to get me through: 15 more clonazepam, and a script for effexor (which I should probably start tonight).
She told me to go home and go to bed because "you're obviously too tired. You're not going to be able to deal with any of this until you get some rest."
I just nodded because going home to bed wasn't my plan.
She's right though, I do need rest, because my insomnia is coupling with my depression to make me a teary emotional mess.
I have more to say, but I'm too tired.