I had forgotten that I wanted to write a blog entry about my last session with my psych. I guess it was because it really was a waste of time and money. I had talked a lot about my avoidance issues and he said that he's starting to understand me more. But I still feel as though it was 175 dollars down the drain. I didn't feel any sort of gain from the session, it was more pure frustration on my part. I can't go to this doctor just to vent out frustrations, this isn't a normal therapist where that's appropriate, he's an expensive doctor and I have to have some sort of gain from going there.

I'm starting to doubt whether therapy is even for me anymore. It's obvious that I need help. My AvPD isn't going anywhere, it's just rooting deeper and deeper. And my life isn't moving forward. Without some sort of help, I'm gonna be stuck. And my dissociation isn't getting better at all either. That's a huge problem for me as it's been 10 years of this nightmare and it's not showing any sign of getting better. So, all this is obviously reason to go to therapy. But I feel as though therapy isn't doing anything for me. At all. I simply don't see how he's gonna help me with this. I really don't think anyone can. I was very open-minded going into this therapy, but after these past sessions, I'm starting to feel as though it's pointless. This is the best doctor I've ever come across, he's so intelligent and I'm sure he's a very good therapist who can help many people. But I just don't feel as though it's ever going to do something for me. I don't look forward to the sessions at all. I used to be so eager to go to therapy, but now I have no want to go - It's just an inconvenience now. Of course I'm going to have to express this to him in the next session. My parents would love if I said I didn't need to go to therapy anymore, since they hate the fact that I have mental problems. But, if I stopped going, and they noticed that nothing is changing for me, they'd be even more upset I think. At least going to therapy gives the illusion that I'm trying to get better.

I had my very first neurologist appointment yesterday. I was really nervous for it, but the doctor turned out to be very nice, funny and to the point. He was surprised that given all I went through, the very long length of time I've been suffering visual distortion and sensory blunting, that I never went for any sort of brain tests and scans to make sure it's not physical. I felt that it was crucial for me to say that I used to have severe anxiety, since that is around the time it started. But I also accidently said *edit*. I'm really beating myself up about that. I'm so used to see mental health professionals, where it's expected that I divulge that. But he wasn't, he was a neurologist, I did not have to divulge that. Saying I had chronic anxiety would have been enough. But I just blurted it out and now I feel horrible. He asked clarifying questions about what *edit*. I wish I had had the backbone to say I didn't want to clarify, but I didn't, I told him. Again, it was probably because I'm so used to having to divulge everything.

The one thing I disliked about him was how he completely wrote off the fact that I was Bipolar. He looked at the meds I was on, and I told him I was BP. He gave me a "duh" comment. And then he said that so many people come in with that "label". He then went on to interrogate about me about my mania, why I was hospitalized and my response to AD's. I have no problem with his clarifying, but come on - I don't have a "label", I have a legitimate mood disorder and him expressing doubt about it, without even knowing me more than five f-ing minutes, was very rude to me. He showed obvious disdain and criticism for psychiatrists, so I guess he doesn't believe much in psychological issues. But then in the end, he said he probably thinks my problems are psychological. How ironic. Regardless, he was very adamant that I receive the tests and...

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Just got back from my session with my doctor. It wasn't a deep or stressful conversation this time, which was good as I simply didn't have the energy to go into anything like that. After the awkward first couple of minutes where I never know what to say, I eventually just cut to the chase & said that I've been feeling empty lately, I took a deep breath & admitted that I missed the rapid-cycling & intensity of the past 2 years, where I had yet to find a good medication & my Bipolar was running rampant. Yes, I told him that I missed it. I was very nervous about what his response would be to that, as I didn't want him to think that I enjoyed Bipolar & all the hospitalizations, I didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

To my surprise, he actually smiled & said that that type of feeling if extremely typical of those with Bipolar, so what I was saying was not a surprise. I felt a huge weight lifted, knowing that he understood what I was talking about. I talked about how intense the cycling was & how I was nostalgic for even the depression. I enjoyed the chaos. (As he put it lol.)

But then we came to a conclusion that makes a lot of sense. I'm terrified of the future. I have no plans, I have nothing to really keep me going, when I look in front of me all I see is an empty desert. There's not specific paths that show me the way. No signs to tell me where to go in my life. He gave the suggestion that perhaps when I was poorly medicated & all was chaos - it kept me busy. That was a great realization for me. Because it's true. The past few years I was incredibly busy, focused on my moods, my medications, my hospitalizations. I was busy just trying to survive. & Therefore, I didn't have time to look to the future, to see where my life could be headed. I was simply too busy & distracted by the madness.

& Now - that I'm stable & not going through that, suddenly all this free space in my mind becomes available. I finally sit down & realize that I have nothing but a blank canvas of my life. So, my doctor thinks that my wanting to stop meds & revert back to that madness is a defense. He thinks it's a defense against starting my life & starting something new. My madness was familiar, was time-consuming, & only allowed me to think day-to-day in my survival, rather than planning for the future.

I think he's right. I absolutely think he's right. I'm not sure how I feel about this new realization. Maybe it makes me want to revert back even more out of terror. I know this it's supposed to give a reason to push forward into the unknown. I guess I'll contemplate it further over the next month. Right now I just need to wind down & clear my mind of the session.

He did agree that although the medications are life-savers, they do have a habit of blunting emotions. It's hard to go from feeling the extremes of bipolarity to suddenly barely having the energy to feel happy & genuinely excited about anything.

Again - light session, but I'm glad how it went as I got to discuss some of this. At least let it be known, actually voice it out loud.

Next session is June 7th.

- EGD.

I had my fifth session with my new psychiatrist yesterday, Dr.T. I'm still getting used to him, trying to get comfortable in his presence, & also his office which is very small & intimate, something I'm not quite used to. This session I was better with my nerves. Although I had taken a small dose of Xanax, my anxiety was much better than previously.

I wouldn't say that we had a solid conversation, because I was frustrated by some things on my mind, so it was difficult for the doctor to kinda steer me into the conversation he wanted to have. I started the conversation by trying to make it clear to him that I'm not as emotionally unstable as he thinks I am. I explained about my past therapist & how unprofessional, inappropriate & unknowledgeable he was. I explained that my therapist's diagnosis of Borderline wasn't accurate, because he was simply looking for a controversial & interesting diagnosis for me, to make his job more interesting. I convinced my doctor of that by informing him that my past therapist had also diagnosed me pre-schizophrenia, anorexia, Narcissistic PD & even hinted at Dissociative Identity, all of these, during one point or another during our two year therapy. Let's all give a collective "WTF?" - while my doctor raises his eyebrows & FINALLY my point has been made.

You know what my doctor "did" agree with me about, finally? That I have Avoidant PD. My past therapist didn't acknowledge it because it's not an interesting disorder. Having a patient that just cowers in fear & has no social experience definitely is not interesting, but a mix of Borderline & Schizophrenic? That's interesting. So yes, Dr. T, finally believed me about what I truly am: a bipolar Avoidant. Collective sigh, please...

We also discussed my confusion as a child. The fact that during the *edit*, I didn't know what to think. As a 6 year old, I knew that something was off when it was happening but I wasn't sure what. & I was confused because *edit* was so nice. This confusion has lasted my whole life. & Of course, my doctor mentioned that perhaps I held a lot of shame, because later in life, while *edit* was still occurring, I "knew" what was happening & yet still failed to do anything about it. I was silent & probably in denial, not wanting to acknowledge what was happening in front of my eyes.

We didn't achieve too far into this type of conversation, like I said, our session was just all over the place, partly my fault, lol..

Our next session is May 11th.

- EGD.

I thought I would just write a sole entry about my history. If anyone wants to read it, they can get a better sense of what I've been through, & what I'm dealing with. More importantly, though, I really just want to get this out.

From the beginning, I was always a shy & rather insecure child. I was quiet, & not excitable. Even when I was little, in elementary school, I was already preoccupied with what the other children were thinking about me. So, in a way, I've always been Avoidant & anxious. I had about one or two close friends when I was growing up, but I never was a social butterfly. My first rejection came when I was very young, I had a neighborhood girl that I used to play with. After awhile I noticed that we only played when "I" took the initiative to go knock on her door. But, then, eventually, she started giving an excuse not to hang out each & every time. It didn't take that long for me to get the message. I stopped asking her to hang out, with the thought of "When she wants to hang out, she'll come to me". & She never did.

But it was still okay, I had another friend that I've had from kindergarten, named S. The friendship lasted all through elementary to high school. I'll give more detail later on how it turned out. In middle school was when I really started having problems. I guess maybe because it's that time period where kids are really dealing with that insecurity, comparing themselves to others, etc. I was extremely insecure, only having one friend. My shyness & insecurity became overwhelming & I developed selective mutism. It was nigh impossible for me to speak in school. I mostly communicated through head shakes & nods. A couple of kids would tease me about it, trying to urge me to speak while they made jokes about it. Inside I would be fuming with anger, but I simply couldn't open my mouth. It just physically would not open. It took all my willpower to not respond in some other fashion, such as physically attacking them. This internal anger & inability to respond had prompted a very angry anonymous email to one of my teachers, where I exploded about about all the anger & fear I was feeling. Regardless of the anonymity, they new exactly who had sent the email & they confronted me the next day, where I was beside myself with emotion, crying in the counselor's office, not taking any word they said. All I remember was the question: "Do you want us to tell your mother?". In which I did what any sane kid would do, shake my head hard with fear in my eyes. They promised that I wouldn't have to do any more speeches in my classes (as that was another huge problem I was having.), & they said they would contact the high school I was going to & tell them I shouldn't do speeches. Yeah, needless to say, they did not do that, I was subjected to speeches, in horror & silence, just like everyone else.

When I hit high school, I was still suffering from mutism, although it was getting better. I was able to speak when spoken to. But apart from that, I was incredibly quiet & would approach no one. I had seriously low self-esteem, to the point where I got horribly depressed & would think of suicide a lot. I know I'm not delusional when I say this - I was not very physically attractive. I dressed horribly, due to not caring & not wanting to stand out. I didn't wear make-up at that time, I was suffering from acne like all kids that age, & my hair was less than desirable, it was short & thick & looked.. well, not good. So, attention from boys? None, except the occasional malicious teasing. Girls knew that I had no self-esteem, so the attention from them was less than nice, to put it nicely. I was completed isolated except for occasional contact with S. But I was quickly growing apart from her since our interests & personalities were going in two opposite directions. She was interested in fashion & was a social...

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