Letters from the Hedge: September 11, 2014

But there’s still tomorrow
Forget the sorrow
And I can be on the last train home

– lostprophets, “Last Train Home”

My first psychiatry appointment is today.  I’m excited but also terribly nervous, because unlike most illnesses where the doctor can easily see what’s going on, the diagnosis of mental illness relies a lot, not only on what the patient says, but also how they say it.

I’m excited because it’s entirely possible that by tonight I’ll have a more straightforward diagnosis or at least more insight into my current one.  I’m nervous because saying the wrong thing or framing it in the wrong way could easily land me in the hospital.  I’m also nervous because the last time I talked to my PCP about my illness, I started crying in the waiting room.  I cried all the way through my appointment, and I cried in the lab, and I cried while I was having my blood drawn.  Crying that much is exhausting, and I’m already so tired.

But I still want to go.  I want an escape route.  I want to make everyone’s lives easier, especially my own.

That’s been one of the worst things about all this.  Any relationship with a person who has mental illness is going to be a tough one.  I would like to be able to engage in healthy relationships again.  And I don’t want to say “I would like to stop being a burden to people,” but yeah, I do.  Heh.

When I look at the course of my illness I don’t see an easy recovery curve.  I see a lot of plummets downwards, low plateaus, and dangerous, unsustainable peaks.  But the general trend is upward, and I’m very grateful for that.

But remission is about stability, and that’s what I’m aiming for today.


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