Friday, July 29, 2005
What am I, anyhow?
Yesterday I talked a bit with my psychologist about my diagnosis- we recently did a rohrshach test, and she's been seeing me for a few months now. We discussed Girl, Interrupted a bit. She thinks I might be a bit borderline and that I do have ADD. She also said that, after talking with Pat, the person who hasn't returned my phone calls in 2 months but is helping me apply for social security disability or whatever, they think that I probably have a better case if I focus on physical stuff.
Two weeks ago I saw my psychiatrist and she continued to say that I don't have ADHD (because I didn't get diagnosed as a kid and I functioned well in school). She really doesn't get me. A lot of times I have to repeat myself when I am talking with her, and then when she understands what I said, she looks at me funny. Ugh.
Noone gets me, though. I remember Jaimi used to say something about how I was so complicated, and that she knew me so well but still didn't get me, and things like that. I'm not difficult on purpose! But I guess it is kind of fun (interesting) being complicated. It's not fun to be so fucking angry and depressed all the time, tho.
email me at haydees@gmail.com
Yesterday I talked a bit with my psychologist about my diagnosis- we recently did a rohrshach test, and she's been seeing me for a few months now. We discussed Girl, Interrupted a bit. She thinks I might be a bit borderline and that I do have ADD. She also said that, after talking with Pat, the person who hasn't returned my phone calls in 2 months but is helping me apply for social security disability or whatever, they think that I probably have a better case if I focus on physical stuff.
Two weeks ago I saw my psychiatrist and she continued to say that I don't have ADHD (because I didn't get diagnosed as a kid and I functioned well in school). She really doesn't get me. A lot of times I have to repeat myself when I am talking with her, and then when she understands what I said, she looks at me funny. Ugh.
Noone gets me, though. I remember Jaimi used to say something about how I was so complicated, and that she knew me so well but still didn't get me, and things like that. I'm not difficult on purpose! But I guess it is kind of fun (interesting) being complicated. It's not fun to be so fucking angry and depressed all the time, tho.
email me at haydees@gmail.com
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
I just finished reading the book Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen. Apparently this book has been made into a movie starring Winona Ryder and Angelina Jolie.
The book was published in 1993. At some point I was aware of its existence, and I think I have even heard interviews with the author.
Reading this book was really special for me for several reasons:
1. it takes place a couple of towns from where I grew up. I have always liked Belmont. It's a nice little town. In high school, we used to go ride the swings and climb around the playgrounds at night. It was so fun! and I almost joined a swim team in Belmont. And we used to go to Waverly Square, which is mentioned in the book. The protagonist/author is put into McLean, the mental hospital. When I was in college I saw some sort of mental health professional there... I guess that would be after Waltham Hospital closed its mental health department (I never got to thank the administration for that). I remember my Dad driving me there and then me taking the train home or into Harvard Square (also mentioned in the book) afterwards.
2. she has borderline personality disorder. I always used to think that my first girlfriend had it. But now my mental health "care" providers don't know how to classify me and are considering diagnosing me as being borderline. And/or bipolar two. But they insist I do not have ADHD.
3. she is put into this ward in the hospital. I spent a night in a hospital once (depression). After that I was put into this godawful outpatient program. I think I went to the hospital every day for a couple of months. We did tai-chi, which really hurt my joints (I was 20, btw), art therapy, and I guess some talk therapy. I was transitioning from Depakote and Effexor to ADD meds. I remember one woman who was on shock therapy. She was really pathetic and I didn't feel so good being in a group with all these sadass losers. Frankly.
Noel was in a mental ward for 60 days 2 summers ago. Or was it 3? Patty might have been put into one when he disappeared. And in Cancun, the woman who was in the bed below me, Louise, got crazier every day (my diagnosis: paranoid schizophrenia). I was able to bring her to the medics, who kept her for 24 hours. Then they brought her to a psychiatric hospital. Very sad. So anyhow, I would call the payphone on Noel's ward and she would put all these crazy people on the phone. This reminded me of her.
Anyhow, I felt like the book gave voice to a lot of my own depression and alienation. But I have not had a feeling of seeing a different reality the way Susanna Kaysen did.
email me at haydees@gmail.com
The book was published in 1993. At some point I was aware of its existence, and I think I have even heard interviews with the author.
Reading this book was really special for me for several reasons:
1. it takes place a couple of towns from where I grew up. I have always liked Belmont. It's a nice little town. In high school, we used to go ride the swings and climb around the playgrounds at night. It was so fun! and I almost joined a swim team in Belmont. And we used to go to Waverly Square, which is mentioned in the book. The protagonist/author is put into McLean, the mental hospital. When I was in college I saw some sort of mental health professional there... I guess that would be after Waltham Hospital closed its mental health department (I never got to thank the administration for that). I remember my Dad driving me there and then me taking the train home or into Harvard Square (also mentioned in the book) afterwards.
2. she has borderline personality disorder. I always used to think that my first girlfriend had it. But now my mental health "care" providers don't know how to classify me and are considering diagnosing me as being borderline. And/or bipolar two. But they insist I do not have ADHD.
3. she is put into this ward in the hospital. I spent a night in a hospital once (depression). After that I was put into this godawful outpatient program. I think I went to the hospital every day for a couple of months. We did tai-chi, which really hurt my joints (I was 20, btw), art therapy, and I guess some talk therapy. I was transitioning from Depakote and Effexor to ADD meds. I remember one woman who was on shock therapy. She was really pathetic and I didn't feel so good being in a group with all these sadass losers. Frankly.
Noel was in a mental ward for 60 days 2 summers ago. Or was it 3? Patty might have been put into one when he disappeared. And in Cancun, the woman who was in the bed below me, Louise, got crazier every day (my diagnosis: paranoid schizophrenia). I was able to bring her to the medics, who kept her for 24 hours. Then they brought her to a psychiatric hospital. Very sad. So anyhow, I would call the payphone on Noel's ward and she would put all these crazy people on the phone. This reminded me of her.
Anyhow, I felt like the book gave voice to a lot of my own depression and alienation. But I have not had a feeling of seeing a different reality the way Susanna Kaysen did.
email me at haydees@gmail.com
Sunday, July 24, 2005
I can't take it anymore.
Probably tomorrow, or if not, very soon, I am going to get a library card in the city where I live. It could mean the end of life as we know it. I came back from my trip to Europe totally hooked on this guy's thriller/mystery novels. There are only 2 more to read, but dammit, I must read them. Maybe I will get hooked on novels the way I was when I was a kid- I read everything I could get my hands on.
It would certainly beat having to worry about the real world- bullshit like worrrying about kids who are all alone in the garden at sunset, when Jess is ever going to make signs so people don't put compost in the wrong bin, dealing with the results of people doing the wrong thing with the compost, what would happen if I were to plant something (it would likely disappear), if our water bill is going to get shut off, etc. I also worry a lot about money and my future and the state of the world and why my hands hurt so much and when is that woman going to give me my taxes back? What will happen when I go to the hospital to have my hands looked at this week and I don't have any proof of income?
If I go to yoga before work, will my hands hurt too much to clean? Too much to work on the website or have sex or hold up a book while I'm reading it?
Plus, T. doesn't talk to me anymore. He hasn't emailed me since before Europe. I ran into him twice in Europe and I was so bitter about him not keeping me up to date on where I should be... I might be making progress towards making other friends, since I hung out with C and W and this cool guy D the other day. He plays the guitar and I pulled out the Cat Stevens songbook that was at their house, and somehow I ended up singing with him. I think that means that I like him...
And, C came by the house today while i was at the gym. He waited for like an hour, apparently with the intention of kidnapping me and bringing me to Davis. I would have loved to have gone...but I do have to work tomorrow and try to talk to the woman who was supposed to do my taxes...
email me at haydees@gmail.com
Probably tomorrow, or if not, very soon, I am going to get a library card in the city where I live. It could mean the end of life as we know it. I came back from my trip to Europe totally hooked on this guy's thriller/mystery novels. There are only 2 more to read, but dammit, I must read them. Maybe I will get hooked on novels the way I was when I was a kid- I read everything I could get my hands on.
It would certainly beat having to worry about the real world- bullshit like worrrying about kids who are all alone in the garden at sunset, when Jess is ever going to make signs so people don't put compost in the wrong bin, dealing with the results of people doing the wrong thing with the compost, what would happen if I were to plant something (it would likely disappear), if our water bill is going to get shut off, etc. I also worry a lot about money and my future and the state of the world and why my hands hurt so much and when is that woman going to give me my taxes back? What will happen when I go to the hospital to have my hands looked at this week and I don't have any proof of income?
If I go to yoga before work, will my hands hurt too much to clean? Too much to work on the website or have sex or hold up a book while I'm reading it?
Plus, T. doesn't talk to me anymore. He hasn't emailed me since before Europe. I ran into him twice in Europe and I was so bitter about him not keeping me up to date on where I should be... I might be making progress towards making other friends, since I hung out with C and W and this cool guy D the other day. He plays the guitar and I pulled out the Cat Stevens songbook that was at their house, and somehow I ended up singing with him. I think that means that I like him...
And, C came by the house today while i was at the gym. He waited for like an hour, apparently with the intention of kidnapping me and bringing me to Davis. I would have loved to have gone...but I do have to work tomorrow and try to talk to the woman who was supposed to do my taxes...
email me at haydees@gmail.com
