Monday, October 15, 2007


Tomorrow I see my P-sychiatrist and I'm absolutely terrified. He's a nice man and hasn't done anything bad to me, but I'm terrified the same way I'm always terrified whenever I get a letter or card from my mother, eventhough she hasn't told me what a bad person I am in so many words in 20 or more years.

I have a mortal fear of psychiatrists, probably stemming back to the first one I can remember. Dr. Pitt is what I call him in Locked (see my web page) and my experience with him was one of the worst in memory. He accused me of cutting on myself to get out of doing my homework, for example. He didn;t listen to a word I said and was rude and patronising. I guess he thought a 16 year old girl couldn;t have any serious problems and he sent me away from him more suicidal than I've ever been in my life, before or since.

Dr. Newman was okay but ineffective. When I was anorexic I sat in his office an hour a week for a whole year without saying anything. My mother told me that he had told her that I had said terrible stuff about my family and he had it on tape. I know she was lying, or he was. Dr. Schoof was high and mighty and somewhat mean. he was one of the doctors in the hospital and was prone to taking away privileges on the least whim. I remember I had this stuffed animal I liked to carry around for comfort. he told me this was a sign of an instable mind and if I didn;t give up the stuffed toys he'd put me on suicide precautions. I still think that was something of an overreaction.

Then there was the psychiatrist I saw at student health at U of M. I can't remember his name, just the way he yelled at me that I would never get better without him on the day that I walked out of his office because I couldn;t take any more of what he called therapy.

So I have a mortal fear of psychiatrists. I reflexively hide what's really going on with me from them, for fear of what they'll do to me. I know I can;t do this tomorrow, because I can't go on living the life I've been living, really I can't. But what will my pdoc do? Accuse me of lying? institutionalise me? Or simply change my meds? I don;t know and I'm scared shitless.

My back hurts and I want to go to bed but that will bring on tomorrow much faster. I'll let you know what happens...if I can.

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