I am in the waiting room of my new doctor. I must admit my insides are doing the jitter-bug. I have so much on my mind. I am having a difficult time keeping the anxiety at bay. Mother has a lot on her mind too, I told her to go ahead and shop while I waited and meet with this new doctor. I might be a couple of hours yet, no need to hold her prisoner here. So I blog and people watch. One family argues across me, something about “Deddy and Christmas.”
They were just called back, thankfully. I am ready for my appointment with my therapist this afternoon, I hope she can help me bring clarity to some of the issues that are plaguing my mind. Haunting me in my waking and my sleeping hours. Longing for peaceful assurance and help in making a correct decision, fear and trepidation of making the incorrect one is almost too much to bear. I know she will help me muddle through my emotions and help me to see the situation for what I need to see it as.
Before heading to my appointments today we stopped to see our sweet friend that is in ICU. She did not respond to us. I want her to sit up and talk in her beautiful Hispanic accent, invite me over for her delicious rice and beans. “Oh my beautiful sister.” She calls me, and with a hug, I call her the same. You never know when a prompting to call or stop by and visit might be the last time to see a person or hear their voice for a while. I am grateful that I acted on it a few weeks back and spent time with her. My prayers are that she will make a full recovery, right now it is in the Lord’s hands.
One doctor visit and emotional breakdown later…
I just asked my Mother, why can’t my life be normal? Why is my normal utter chaos? I really do believe there must be a hotline or something that announces that I am on the way, time to see what oil we can throw on the road and what tricks I need to learn.
My life is that of Willy Coyote and Road Runner. I am still going, but gosh.
This new psychiatrist that I was referred to was really nice, but they put me in with the PA on the 1st visit. Super nice man, gentle speaking grandfather type, immediately asks why I am there since I have insurance. Very confused, I explain that they are on my preferred providers and also that I have went to 2 other in network providers that did not work out, and they came highly recommended my therapist. As he looked over my list of medications, he kindly advised that I would best be cared for by my Internist, and not have so many doctors. That is when the tears could no longer be held at bay. This all began months ago when my Internist suggested that I see a Psychiatrist. Now, I felt hopeless, as if I was being turned away left to my own devices. Once I started crying I could not stop.
He quietly excused himself, that is when I noticed his PA degree on the wall. My being left to my own devices turned to frustration too. When he came back in the room he explained where he had been. He spoke to the head Psychiatrist, who has dealt with “complex cases” such as mine. He would be referring me to him. He wanted me to know he truly had compassion for my situation and was not leaving me out in the dark, but due to the other medications I am on he did not feel confidant treating me, and would have done me a “great disservice pretending he could treatment.”
I respected and admired his honestly. Grateful that he referred me to the Doctor and did not turn me away. Next week I start seeing him.
Therapy was extremely difficult today. I cried from deep, releasing some pain that I have been afraid to release. I have such a long way to go. I do not think I can even call them baby steps.
I am realizing that somewhere deep inside, I hold the pain because in holding the pain I continue to hold on to what it represents. MJ, my childhood, my Granddaddy, the Child I never had…once it heals they will be gone.
I do not initially hold the pain and anguish, but I do it. As we sat together reading and looking at MJs story, sobbing, she reminded me of the person that she was catching a glimpse of through the words and the person that he is would want me smiling and laughing. She referred to quotes that MJ’s Mom used in his book. She’s right, that is who he is, that is who we were and are.
Something about knowing MJ helped me become my best self, awoke that part of me, but something my therapist reminded me today, through my own words. It was a part of me. Only I can reclaim that part of me.
Beside me today stands another. My companion and my love. He is patiently waiting as I work through all my issues. I suppose some of it is duty and payback, as I have stood and stand beside him through trial, but it is more. It is love. We have covenanted in love with each other and God, to stand beside each other. It is not always easy. I am not always easy. Mental health, physical health, and life in general, thank goodness there is love, and chocolate.