In the last week, I have gone from a possible thyroxine overdose (again) to possible reactions to cough suppressants for bronchitis (and after reducing/eliminating both) to maybe hypomanic, something I rarely do , especially for so long. With my period starting today and my hormones falling, I am a mess.
Today my biofeedback PhD said that if her stuff puts me on a rollercoaster, then she has to stop. I said that the rollercoaster is not yet confirmed. I feel like she was looking for a reason to cut me loose and feel like such a failure over something I can't control in the least. The pivotal thing was me not doing better today on this computerized ADHD measurement tool today. ADHD begins with anything below a score of -1.8 and the first time I took it I scored -5.5, so significantly ADHD. After 20 sessions, it improved to -4.5, which apparently isn't a big enough leap for her.
I told her that I knew I was a hard case with all the side effects I got from meds, but I never expected to be a hard case there. She said all her clients are like snowflakes, each are unique. That didn't comfort me in the least, however she did finally ask if I felt like another block of 20 sessions would make a difference; she was reluctant. I don't want to be given up on; I want it to work. I told her I want to try, so I will have the same ADHD test after 40 total sessions. This set of 20 in the meantime, however, will be three times a week instead of two sessions twice a week. It made it easier to schedule others in their office - me the gratis patient taking up two hour blocks twice a week - and I think it'll actually be easier on me not to have the drill of back-to-back sessions.
The tears waited until I was at the car. I tried to call my therapist to she if she could fit me in this afternoon, but it went straight to voicemail. That meant she was there, so I headed over. She is the most caring and gracious support I could ever ask for. She had 30 minutes to talk to me and I left feeling so much better. On the drive to her place, I kept telling myself that I can't give up on myself even if others do. I have not felt this hopeless in quite some time. I am usually the even, unmoody one, so this buzzy/shaky thing I've had for a week is very unnerving. I'd had a psychiatrist's appt for today, but she called this morning saying she had a close family member die, so I didn't have that to fall back on. Thank goodness for my therapist.
I conveyed to her about the biofeedback PhD, someone we've talked about before as having little bedside manner. She was surprised at the conclusions she was drawing rather hastily and did not like that she tested me today while feeling ill with bronchitis. That would negate any parallels between the two testing sessions. We talked about a few other things as well related to biofeedback possibly causing bipolar to cycle, but neither of us feels like that is the case. I can't say that biofeedback caused these jitters. Also, the biofeedback PhD had overreacted to one report I'd given (you have to say how you've felt since the last session) and said I was depressed, when I was not. She compared me to the worm in horseradish who says the who world smells like horseradish; I think it is rash for her to come to that conclusion about me.
It has been a horrible week.
The ceremony was the highlight. Thank goodness for that.
Saturday evening was the lowlight when Luke and I joined others for a night out in another city. We shared a van, so I decided to party. Actually, I didn't want to go, because of my bronchitis, but he really wanted to. Imagine going in a van to another city and being under their timetable. During the evening, when I said, "You don't seem that into me," he said, "It's because I'm not. And we're not going to discuss it this evening." Hmmm, so I did a verbal summary, he said I got it right, so I said there was no reason for me to sit with him any longer. I have no clue was set off Mr. Corn-Cob-Up-The-Ass, but this crash and burn is a sure fired way to make sure it really is over. All I figure is that him being so sensitive and lacking a sense of humor and being very conscious of things being 'in public' that I inadvertently did something wrong. I don't need those egg shells.
So I drank more and danced and met this Sau.di guy who I bummed cigs off of. I was drunk and free, but not badly behaved, well, except for that once when I flashed why I got my beads. Everyone else was just as crazy, except Luke, who sat by himself.
Rather than take the van back, I stayed over with two guys who had a room. I slept with one, but that was all. He played with my hair. We three had a leisurely ride back on Sunday.
I am not interested in clearing up the Luke mystery. The guy lives with so many rules in his little world that I do not fit. Last week after his first therapy session, he finally admitted to being an addictive personality and it made things so clear to me.
Before the van left Saturday night, they asked if I needed anything. Someone is holding my coat for me and also told Luke to mail in my NetFlix for me. That's truly all I care about. Getting the three DVDs back in the mail, mostly because I know how difficult he makes something as simple as peeling of a sticky strip and putting something in a mailbox. He can be that hardheaded and uncooperative, acting helpless with something very simple just so he does not have to be responsible. He is an irksome little man.
He did call and leave me a message on Sunday. I've yet to listen to it. I hung up on the call by accident as I pulled the phone from my purse, then realized I was happy it had happened. I guess he's not that concerned about my well-being, as Mr. Pseudo-Knight hasn't called back or looked for my body in a ditch. He sure as hell let me down.
Crash and burn. My life story.