This Dilbert Anti-Depressant cartoon was on my Dilbert-A-Day calendar last week, and I was planning to scan and upload it. Then I discovered the animation! I love it. The second cartoon is good too - "You can either work or get drunk, the pay is the same". I'm managing to laugh at least once a day, and I'm taking that as a major victory.
Dr A rang me this morning to reschedule tomorrow's appointment. I had to trade my hard-fought one hour appointment to a half-hour appointment at 8:30am. He only works part-time, has childcare responsibilities, so I couldn't really argue. Besides I am the high-functioning, pleasant & moderate BPD patient, not the crackpot mentallist, right? I had to book the one hour appt three weeks in advance, though, because he doesn't have many per week, and I cancelled last week cause it was half an hour and it takes me an hour and a half to get there on three buses. I wish I had the nerve to tell him he sucks hahahaha. One day I will tell you about the nightmare that is Dr A. All 6 foot 4, bronzed AngloIndian, devoted father, probably younger than me, in fact definitely younger than me (38). Stylish casual dress, designer jeans. How can someone who is so clearly in control of his life understand me for one second???? He has referred me to a psychologist colleague, MH, so I can do some CBT work with her. The sessions are a fraction of the price of seeing Dr A, and she's closer to me; sadly I had to wait 6 weeks for a slot to open up - it's on April 8th. Until then, and probably afterwards, I will see Dr A once a week. Kaching. Still haven't been approved for disability -- they asked me for paperwork proving the bank balance of the joint account me and Mr Ex had, which he still has and is legally still half mine apparently. I haven't had access to the account for 10 months. Now I've provided that I am praying I get a decision about Sickness Allowance this week.
The novelty of having to ask my parents for every cent I need is fast wearing off. I know it sounds ideal to some people, having parents (well, mother and stepfather) who are prepared to help out. But let me tell you, it comes with its own set of issues and negotiations. I keep a thorough list of what I owe them, and sometimes just to depress myself further, I look at the list and try to remember $5 here, or $2 there that I've forgotten. I've stopped going to the gym because it's $10 per session. My friend has paid for us to go out (movies and bowling) twice now, which is a huge embarrassment as she is ten years younger than me, unemployed, and has major depression herself. How on earth did I end up here???? That's a rhetorical question by the way. Along with "What will happen to me?"; "To medicate or not to medicate?" and "Do blondes have more fun?"