My mind is in knots, right now.  Taking Charlie with me to the shrink’s was a TERRIBLE idea – I was given this advice by people on DT, and it seemed to make sense at the time, that I would not see myself as clearly – that he would be able to describe my nuttiness better than I would.  Well, I don’t know how that played out, because I wasn’t in the room when he rattled off what he’s seen, but he was in the room the rest of the time (big mistake).  The shrink sucked.  I was cool until we started talking about drugs.  That’s not true – I wasn’t "cool" – I was very upset, but crying upset, not bitchy upset, because I was recounting things that are really hard t acknowledge or discuss.  And, I did very well with that (Charlie gives me no credit for this, he insists I was belligerent the whole time, which is completely false).  This guy said some stuff that was really unfair and unnecessary – because I said I wouldn’t take certain drugs because of what I had read or seen, he told me I would not succeed in treatment with my attitude.  Charlie says I did have a bad attitude – I did, after dude said that.  I wanted to leave at that point, and if Charlie hadn’t been there, I might have.  At  one point, the guy turns to Charlie, and saysd, doesn’t that seem reasonable?  And, instead of sticking up for me, and saying "she is trying," or "she’s really come a long way, she’s just afraid.  These are powerful drugs, and this is a hard decision."  he just agrees with this guy, and it’s like I am being ganged up on. 

He says I was sh*tty with this guy.  That’s not fair.  I KNOW I WAS BEING TOTALLY WITHIN THE REALM OF POLITE DISCOURSE UNTIL DRUGS CAME UP, and then I SPECIFICALLY told the doc at one point that if I sounded frustrated, I wasn’t frustrated with him, just with the lack of good options.  The better drugs, the ones I wanted to be on, the ones Charlie agreed were the only option before we went there, were off the table because of the meds I am on at outpatient.  (I plan to taper off this shit, ASAP, but that takes a while.)  Well, I took the damn script, but I plan on getting a second opinion as soon as I can.  I hated this guy.  He was so dismissive – like I was an idiot who had no right having opinions about what drugs I want and don’t want to be taking.  I know the class of drugs we were talking about are dinosaurs and no one wants to be on them.  God, this sucks.  Charlie does’n’t know what a shrink is supposed to be like – this guy was crap.  He took a lousy history.  Finding out what other meds I was on was like an afterthought.  Charlie could have made the situation better, he just doesn’t like confrontation, and he almost always sides with the other party b/c it’s easier that way.  He doesn’t have to go toe to toe with anyone, or make any sort of effort, and afterwards, he can just snap on me, because I’ll usually just cry.  Sometimes, I argue, but I mostly gave that up a long time ago.  When he gets hateful, I just cry.  It doesn’t phase him.  He’ll yell when I cry.  I even said  was sorry for upsetting him, just to make him stop acting so hateful (I COULDN’T TAKE IT), and I was sorry I upset him.  It fucked up my whole day that he was upset that way. 

I feel so screwed, right now.  It’s gonna take, bare minumum, six months, to get off the outpatient meds.  Meanwhile…  do I try the drug from the asshole doc?  Do I wait for the 2nd opinion?  I told Charlie I would take the pills.  I guess I should.  I felt bullied into accepting them.  There’s a chance of weight gain, and before we went there Charlie claimed to understand my concerns about that (fearing a relapse of my anorexia, or that being overweight would, at the very least compound my depression – ask any overweight person if it depresses them, and most will tell you that it does.  I’ve been there, I know.  I’ve been miserable at both extremes, and have no interest in returning to either.)  He totally morphed when we were in there.  He had been behind me on ever issue, and then, suddenly, somehow, I was wrong about everything.

He said I was accusatory and angry the whole time.  When I haven’t actually said anything wrong, he attacks my tone.  I know I was, at worst, sad, through the early parts, because I was just sobbing and nervous – NO ONE COULD HAVE MISCONSTRUED THAT AS AGGRESSION.  Then, drugs came up, and I got picky, and frustrated by the lack of good options, and I even said to the doc, "I’m not blaming you, there just don’t seem to be any good options."  I wasn’t going to walk out without making a choice.  I was just struggling.  He’s there to help me decide, not berate me because I won’t TRY whatever the hell he wants me to try.  And, after I waited and waited and it was clear Charlie had abandoned me, I told the doc so.  I said, "you know, I don’t think I am unreasonable or have a bad attitude because I won’t take just anything."  He said I should be willing to try.  Try anything?  Thanks no, I am not stupid.  I hated this guy, so much.  Charlie acted like he was a saint.  Still hasn’t apologized any of his dumb ass behavior, and I cannot stop resenting the hell out of the things he said, as we walked out.  Me, accusatory?  He was the one who let out a slew of false accusations.

More later…