My new Psychiatrist and I 

That sounds like some sort of children’s bedtime story. Right? Maybe if we were more open about mental illness. Maybe one day we’ll find stories like this to be a norm- next to the divorced moms section.

Anyway since my move here I have only seen my old psychiatrist once. She’s really far and very pricey. Both very stressful factors for me to deal with. There aren’t many psychiatrists around in these parts so I had to wait just a little over a month to see my new doc. I received a call on Monday and asked if I wanted to move my appointment forward as there was a cancellation. I try to block my impulsive self on most days but I just had to say yes.

  I needed a session. 

Not because my friends and family were not supportive enough but sometimes you just need a professional to put a label on what you’re feeling or what you’re going through. 

I started becoming aggressive again. Shh, don’t tell anyone. It just sort of creeps up on me. It possesses my body for minutes at time. My jaw clenches tight as sign of its dark presence. People who know me know that this isn’t me. Heck, even I know it’s not me. But it’s there. In the lining of each of my veins, it lives there, just waiting for a moment of weakness. It waits for an opportunity to pounce, to hurt. Last time he flawed his teeth I admitted myself into a psychiatric facility. So I try to be careful with this monster. I only told the psychiatrist at the end of the session, because the whole session was dedicated to my history. Damn, if only I was a narscissist – I would have loved the sound of my own voice. Anyway, she prescribed something for my anxiety and agitation and so far so good. She said she will look at changing the other meds at a later stage (obviously I complained about the weight gaining effects of the current pills).

She reminds me of a cat: petite, feminine, brown. I’ve only engaged with brown, feminine cats so she fits the profile. Just imagine a sandy brown cat taking notes and agreeing to everything you say. That’s her.

She also suggested I go for psychotherapy . I am hoping with the new medical aid that I can afford it. Her session was R850 which we submit to claim. She’s much cheaper than my previous psych who costs R1007. Yep. A pretty penny when you’re not working. And they suggest seeing you every month like it is easy to fit into your schedule AND budget. Oh please. Then there’s the meds. Another butt sore for the budget because medical aid doesn’t cover everything. I was thinking of writing a post about how bipolar disorder is making me poor. Yes and something similar would be the title. But would that be too much information and too personal? Ha. Maybe.

I digress. This post was about my new brown cat. She beautiful and soft and for now, a novelty I can afford. 

See no evil, hear no evil and don’t do anything silly



8 thoughts on “My new Psychiatrist and I 

  1. Jay says:

    Your cat story reminds me of my dog, Gertie, who puts on pearls and glasses and we give her this little lawyer alter-ego. If she understands, I do worry about what she makes of it, other than loving the pearls, which I am sure of.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. dyane says:

    I LOVE “Just imagine a sandy brown cat taking notes and agreeing to everything you say. That’s her.” She sounds great….maybe even just about puuuuuurrrrfect! 😉

    How funny, because my writing teacher reminded me of a pretty cat too! Feline-ism is in the air! I’m glad you went to see her! XOxo

    p.s. I like your idea about bp making you poor as well; you’d do an amazing job!

    Liked by 1 person

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