I just sat down at Panera for lunch and blogging time. I had therapy at noon and it was the most intense session yet. I cried and I’ve never cried in therapy with her. She basically said that I’ve hit a roadblock right now. I am to see a psychiatrist next Friday and see about medicating my depression and anxiety away. I cannot continue working with her until I’m stable and my depression is making it impossible.
I feel so numb right now. I took half a lortab before session and I plan on taking another half in about an hour. I want to be numb all day and night. I want to be numb until Monday’s session.
We discussed more about my dependency on the idea of committing myself inpatient. The fact that it’s a last resort and a safety blanket for me, not a remedy. We also spoke about how dependent I already am on her and how even if she could see me more, she wouldn’t because it would only further my dependency. I admittedly teared up and felt an ache in my heart when I heard this. I know in my mind, this is logical and right. My heart, on the other hand, is a totally different story. I yearn for our encounters and I feed off of them. I’m a junkie.
I’m thrilled and excited to finally be getting the help I need but I’m terrified. I feel like Mr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, constantly fighting. One part of me wants to get better and be happy. The other part wants to stay the same or even possibly get worse. I yearn for that attention and affection I never got as a child. I need it to breathe.
So begins the battle of the chemicals of my brain and medication. I’ll be in touch later about the results.