April 19, 2007

April 19, 2007

Wow, that's effed up...

So...I've been waiting to see my shrink for my medicine right? Only I've been OUT of my medicine for like....2 freaking months. Which has made life around here a veritable whirlwind of crazy. Our HMO has made things virtually impossible, so it took forEVer to get in to see the Dr. to get refills...but...ANYhow...today I got in...finally.

In order to do this, I had to take a whole day off work. And I have a job that is not easy to take a day off from. My job doesn't just wait for me. I have to make all these arrangements that are a pain in my ASS if I want to not be there. So, I went to the Dr. I got my medicine refilled. Like a LOT of medicine.

So, I go in there, and my shrink is this ULTRA put together very serene and chic woman, right? NOT good for the ole self esteem if you are a crazy assed bitch like me. I mean, I'm fairly put together...I am all into high maintenance stuff and shit like that. I gotta have good makeup and pedicures and shit....I wear expensive clothes and I have a major expensive shoe fetish...but still...I've never been called serene. Ever. I'm a freakin' carnival in human form.
So, I go in..and I am sitting there and I have been saving up my bitch and moan session about my shrink's staff because they were rude as all hell to me on the phone. So, I let loose about that..which I realize as I'm bitching vociferously makes me sound crazier than a shit-house rat. I do not care, though...because I've been saving it up, as I mentioned. Those people are ASSHOLES. You do NOT tell a freakin' looney woman that she has to get a fucking REFERRAL to see her own damned DOCTOR when she needs her damned PROZAC AND XANAX and whatever other delights I take.....especially when I'm having a major anxiety attack on the phone...and then if I say to you..."Well, what if I get my husband's machine gun and haul it and the tripod with me to your office, will THAT serve as a referral?" you sure as shit don't tell me, "I'm sorry ma'am, you HAVE TO HAVE A REFERRAL FROM YOUR PRIMARY CARE DOCTOR..." because I will go straight around the effin' bend...and I might be caught trying to pick the lock on the gunsafe by my husband and then have to spill the proverbial beans about what I'm doing....
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WHEW....anyhow...

So. Today I finally get there. Sans machine gun, I might add. I was a good girl. I really was. I didn't even cuss out the fucking office staff. I was cordially cold. I did NOT throw my credit card like a Chinese Throwing Star at them when I paid my co-pay, either. I THOUGHT about it, but I did NOT act on that thought.
So, I am ushered into the very quiet, plush and presumably soothing office of Ultra Chic Serene Shrink Woman. I begin rapidly telling her what has happened. She nods, and rapidly attempts to scribble down what I'm telling her. She apologizes profusely. She says.."ooooooKAY...let's get you some medicine! You don't look like you've slept lately, either...let's get you something for that, too..."

I think to myself..."DAMNED STRAIGHT!"
Then, she asks me the all encompassing: "How is everything else?"
Oh, that poor, poor unsuspecting woman. I tell her how everything else is. See, she isn't a therapist. She is a psychiatrist. They usually just give you drugs. They usher you in, ask you "Do you wanna die? Do you wanna kill anyone? Do you hear voices...I mean voices other than mine? Do you see things? I mean other than me... Okay..here's your prescription...." Well, I MADE USE OF THIS APPOINTMENT. I unloaded on her. I told her everything. You know what she did?

She laughed. She fucking LAUGHED. I mean, what.the.HELL? She laughed???? Then she told me, "When I feel like my life is crazy, I'll think of yours...heh heh..."

WHAT.THE.FUCK?!?!?!?!?!?So now I'm therapeutic for other people? Shouldn't I get paid or free meds or SOMETHING? At the very least, shouldn't I not have to get an effin' referral every 6 months? I mean, come on! I've suffered!

I have a fucked up family! My parents are insane. My grandparents were all crazy.

All of my great aunts and uncles were insane. One got "accidentally" locked in a state mental hospital whilst visiting a friend. Then, when she started screaming, "let me out! I'm not crazy! I'm just visiting..." all of the people working there said, "Sure....right....."
Her sister used to take my Mom and all of her 8 siblings to stand outside the fence of the state mental facility in the 1940s and 50s to watch the crazy people. Like it was a zoo! I'm telling you, there are no normal people in my family.

My great grandmother couldn't be let out of the house because she would slap random people in public. Total strangers. (Which I actually find quite inspiring and awesome.....)

One of my Mom's cousins was the world Duncan yo-yo champion years ago. RIGHT BEFORE HE WAS INVOLUNTARILY COMMITTED TO A MENTAL HOSPITAL. He also made his wife drive their 6 kids around in a VW Bug while he drove the station wagon all by himself because he claimed the VW made his hair fall out. And the woman did it. I would have beat the living crap out of the nut. Or, I'd have shaved his head while he was sleeping so losing hair wasn't a damned issue anymore.

I'm telling you....it's in the genes. And that's just my MOM'S side. And only ONE side of my Mom's side. The other side is just as bad. If not worse. And my mental health care professional FINDS IT AMUSING.

I hate people sometimes.
Currently listening:
Crazy
By Patsy Cline