I was sort of honest with Dippy. I even told her about my self-harm and intrusive thoughts. She didn’t have much to say about that. She kept asking me questions like, “Have you seen anyone lately?” and “Have you been leaving your place much?” I kept saying, “I don’t know”, “I’m not sure” or ” that’s not relevant.”
I told her I wanted to focus on now. I asked her how to cope with all of this anxiety and everything else going on. She suggested BREATHING. Again. I told her I don’t find that relaxing and there must be other ways to help. She gave me a worksheet (at least she’s trying) and said to try to fill it out. It’s one of those: situation, thought, feeling, beliefs, thinking errors and challenging those thoughts kind of worksheets. I told her I have done similar stuff in the past and that I am brilliant at coming up with positive challenges to my thoughts. The only problem is I don’t believe them. I said that I would do it but the true thoughts will always be there. The negative thoughts are my true thoughts and they will override anything positive I come up with.
I asked her if she honestly thinks she can help me and she said she never gives up. That’s a little bit different to actually being able to help someone though. I said I don’t want to spend the rest of my days talking to professionals. I want strategies I can use. She asked me what helps and I said, “Xanax and Valium.”
I wasn’t in the best mood. I was snappy with her. She asked me what I really want and I said to die. She said that wouldn’t be ideal or something to the effect. Of course it wouldn’t be ideal. It would tear my family apart. I don’t want to hurt anyone but I can’t stand the way things are.
We talked about hospital. My doctor thinks I should go back, my family thinks I should go back. She asked what I thought and I said I just want everyone to leave me alone for a few weeks. I want to stop taking all of my meds and just see what happens. I know that’s not a smart idea but hospital is scary. It doesn’t matter how many times you’re admitted, it never stops being scary. Even if I went voluntarily, I would sign myself into their care and if they decided I was too extreme or not “behaving” I would get scheduled to a public ward and I can’t go through that again. I told her I hate not having control.
She said it’s up to me if I go back to see her and I tried to say nicely that maybe there are other people who might be better at helping me. Then again, I could get someone worse. She said to talk to my GP, I have to anyway if I plan to go back to her or to see someone else.
I got sent away with my worksheet, still confused and still unsure of what to do next.