(Just found this on my Blogger dashboard - I forgot to post it last Friday. It was written when I was still quite low and is therefore a little slow and clumsy, but I'd rather leave it that way)
It is once again Friday and therefore once again time for me to step into Dr T's immaculately furnished room.
"So, today I want to know a little more about Bellsie!" She exclaims perkily, causing me to shrink into my chair with more than a little doubt clawing at my mind. Please don't tell me that she's going to go into the pyschoanalytical area that I was dreading. I'm afraid that I don't believe that the reason that I have OCD is because my father looks a little too like my goldfish - I am strongly on the neurological side of the fence.
As it turns out she only wants me to describe myself so I try to drag myself from the lethargy and despair that has been consuming me (yes, I know that it's my fault for not telling her last time that I was on medication and that it was not working) and manage an adjective. Serious. She smiles and writes it down. Not stupid, I add, but not clever either. She nods again. I stop - that's about it really.
This obviously is not enough. She continues to poke various adjectives at me, offering each one to me with an inquisitive frown. Spontaneous? I shake my head vigorously. Loyal? I nod. And so it goes on.
Why do I feel that my OCD has taken the form that it has? I proffer my own favoured explanation - the reason that my main fear is of accidents and catastrophes, the reason why my head is filled with images of my family dying in horrendous circumstances, the reason that I fear hurting someone so very much - my eldest brother had an accident about five years ago. She asks a little more about this event and I dutifully talk her through the whole ribbon of head injuries and helicopters, of bikes and brains until she seems satisfied.
The question of medication is finally raised. Would I consider taking something? I feel that it is time to come clean and therefore admit that I am taking an SSRI (a type of antidepressant). She explains that the reason that it is not working is that I am on too low a dose - with OCD you have to go for the higher end of the spectrum. She decides to add another medication to the cocktail, another form of crazy pills. I leave happily, prescription in hand.
I like her, I really do. I'm just not feeling like liking anybody at the moment.
Obsessively compulsively yours,
Bellsie
0 comments:
Post a Comment