I just cancelled my appointment with my psychiatrist this week cause I just don’t feel like it. But I never feel like it, for the most part dread it, and the sad thing is after it’s done I feel great. Well, most of the time. To be honest, I haven’t always been that honest with my shrink which I know is bad and defeats the purpose but there are some things I started out lying about or withholding information on and so kinda ended up keeping the lie going. For example, I lie about smoking marijuana which is really stupid cause I used to smoke it to self medicate (that’s a lie you tell yourself to justify poor habits) before I was diagnosed with bipolar II and now I really don’t need to partake but, old, new, and forever habits don’t die fast. And they certainly don’t die when you lie about it. I lie about the truth of my relationships. I say I’m dating someone that has a job in sales when he doesn’t. I don’t know why I have to make up a profession for him but I do. I lie about stuff going on in my personal life cause I know he will say his forever mantra “You could really use therapy” and I know that but I can always find an excuse not to go. It’s too expensive. Not a total lie but still a reasonable excuse. I guess the truth is I know what my problems are but I’m just not ready to face them and change. And the sad thing is I deem myself as a die hard honest person. Except when it comes to my shrink? Maybe one of the most important and crucial parts of maintaining a balanced life? Maybe things would be different if I sought out a new therapist and could start from scratch. Cause when I go to my psychiatrist it’s more or less strictly discussing my current meds and how they affect my mood and not really if my life is working. So where does that leave me..?
In the same place I was when I first started going to my shrink seven years ago. SEVEN years I have managed to withhold some information about my life or flat out lie about it that it has become a weird reality to me. What an oxymoronic thing to say.
So I cancelled my session for Friday and feel a slight relief but it only prolongs the process cause I’ll have to go at some point if I want my meds refilled. But that doesn’t mean I have to come clean. Yet.
“How are you?”
“Any changes since we last met?”
“No, things are more or less the same.” Meaning I’m still smoking too much pot and living a lie some of the time in my fragile life.
“Ok. How are you sleeping?”
“Same. Here and there.” Not a total lie cause my sleep habits reflect my self medication habits but he doesn’t know that part so…
“Are you working out?”
“Three, four, sometimes five times a week.” Haven’t done five in ah…. EVER.
“Ok. What about your social life?”
“It’s good.” I don’t know what to make of my social life anymore. I spend my weekends staying in watching TV or dancing in my room which I enjoy but it’s not “social.”
“When’s the last time you saw your family?”
“Ah..” I have to think about it cause I’m not 100% sure.
“I see them a couple times a month.” Not a total lie but I’m not really sure cause it goes in spurts. Like my bipolar yoyo body weight I tend to either be around all the time or not at all. But since I go as long as I can, usually months, before having to see my psychiatrist it all evens out right?
“How’s your sex drive?”
“Fine.” I will shrug that question off as fast as humanly possible cause I NEVER want to discuss my sex life with my shrink. I don’t know why but I’ve never been comfortable with it. So… THAT’S a total lie.
God. After writing this I’m beginning to feel like a loser. But I did try therapy. Twice. Once I went to his lady in Beverly Hills and the session was never a full 50 minutes so I felt shafted and was spending so much money that it annoyed me so..quit! Then I went to a clinic at UCLA to get a sliding scale fee but during my intake the student shrink wannbe didn’t seem to know much about anything. At least not as much as someone that has worked in inpatient psych for two years AND has a mental illness. I felt like I was teaching them about psychiatry.
So now what. I’ll continue to call myself out in my head when I see my shrink and maybe, just maybe, one day I’ll melt into some truths.
I can do that. At least I have to try. I’ll start with something easy like…