Emotionally Unavailable

How does a mature adult tell another that they are emotionally unavailable for several reasons, not a one of which you wish to disclose? Well, you quote fictitious characters from “Grey’s Anatomy” of course. Is there another way? I would be “Meredith” in this scene of course.

“Derek: I want to marry you. I want to have kids with you. I want to build us a house. I want to settle down and grow old with you. I want to die when I’m 110 years old, in your arms. I don’t want 48 uninterrupted hours. I want a lifetime. Mmm. Do you see what happens? I say things like that and you fight the urge to run in the opposite direction. It’s okay, I understand. I didn’t, but now I do, I do. You’re just getting started and I’ve been doing this for a long time now. Deep down, you’re still an intern, and you’re not ready.”

 

Sigmund Freud vs George Michael

So I spent some time today reading some of Freud’s opinions and even most of a couple of books including “Civilization and Its Discontents.”

Basically he says societal restraints keep an individual from reaching full states of pleasure resulting in feelings of “discontent” and unfulfillment. He says, I think, that this belief humans have that we like other humans is pretty much a lie and that we are really aggressives kept in check by the culture in which we live which screws us up mentally. 

They are obviously more complex and I am thinking more and more about possibly going to therapy. I really began thinking about it while on a long drive today listening to George Michael and I said, “Do I really want to dick around in a chair for 50 minutes once a week with someone trying to walk me through my own life when they have been trained in Freudian thought and therefor have to know that this “discontent” and anxiety are pretty much normal per their boy Sigmund?

Fuck all that.

Here are some of the lyrics I was listening to that lead me to believe George via lyrics and song will be more beneficial to me than therapy bullshit. Of course, George Michael’s lyrics can’t get me more Xanax. Sighhh.

“The systematic breakdown of my community
You know I hate my job, I try to save but God
There’s just never enough
Switch on, the pressure – stops”

“So sick of the same old faces
In this street, where nobody talks to me
And the funny side of the situation is
I don’t care, I’ll always be there

When you come down from the sky
And make yourself at home
In my house

Because these days it’s the money the money
The money, honey, or your life
I said don’t you know you can’t have both“

“And it’s no good waiting by the window
It’s no good waiting for the sun
Please believe me, the things you dream of
They don’t fall in the laps of no-one”

“I think there’s something you should know
I think it’s time I told you so
There’s something deep inside of me
There’s someone else I’ve got to be
Take back your picture in a frame
Take back your singing in the rain
I just hope you understand
Sometimes the clothes do not make the man”

“Sometimes it brings you down
Sometimes it eats you up
Sometimes you think that your head’s going to blow
It doesn’t get better . . . “Don’t you know, you’ve got to go to the city
You’ve got to reach the other side of the glass
I think you’ll make it in the city baby
I think you know that you are more than just
Some fucked up piece of ass“LOL!!   I mean, let’s not mince words there, George.

I’m going wiht George and some music therapy.

Another Appointment Update

Well, my last head appointment was about 3 weeks ago and I have an upcoming one on March 20th that may very well be my last. Here’s how the last one went.

I wasn’t in the mood for nonsense so when he asked how I was I ignored the question and had a look around realizing for the first time since I’ve been there that I was sitting in a semi-shrine to Sigmund Freud. Everywhere I looked as I perused the landscape of his office and desk and walls? That’s right. Old Sigmund.

I said, “A Frued fan I see.”

He said, “Well a fan, you may as well say I am a fan of fresh air. Just as people need air to breathe, this profession needs Freud. He was brilliant.”

We went back and forth. I displayed some minimal knowledge that I have of the guy, he elaborated way beyond my comprehension and it ended with another discussion about therapy. BLAH.

So I went back for another appointment and when he asked how I was, I said “Well, I think I’m ready to give this therapy stuff a try.”

I was expecting some positive feedback. Instead, I get “Eh, I don’t think you’re heart’s in it.”

“Eh,” pardon? So I say to this guy, “Are you kidding me? You have been all over me to go to therapy for months. I specifically ASKED you last time, “Isn’t the first rule of psychiatry to let the patient speak when ready” and you said “NOOOOOOOOOOOO.”  Now I’m ready to try it and you aren’t sure?”

Now granted, he probably knows it is a play for more Xanax on my part cause he said if I considered theraopy, he’d consider increasing the doseage. However, if someone says they want therapy, give them the fucking therapy. He is writing out scripts. He starts with the SSRI. I tell him I’ve never taken that Paxil shit, not one and never will cause, I am not depressed.” I explain I just want my Xanax and if he insists on giving me something else, make it the most effective/least side effect that he’s got for GAD. “GAD?” he says. I said “GAD, you know? Generalized Anxiety Disorder?” He scoffawed and this led to a discussion about anxiety in “his medical opinion.” 

According to this one, anxiety is not a stand alone condition. It is a symptom of a deeper issue which is, 99% of the time, depression. I asked him if he was serious and he looked at me. I said, “You really don’t think someone can just be a nervous Nelly and have straight anxiety cause I’m telling you right now, I am not depressed.” He said something about his being the doctor and he has all the experience, in a nice way, and asked that I believe him because even if I don’t show outward signs of depression, some deep scars from my life could and are probably suppressed enough that I don’t feel depressed but they’re causing the anxiety cause a level of depression is there. In his medical opinion.

He also added, “Listen. This is what happens. People like you go to the doctor, say you’re nervous and this and that and the pharmaceutical companies get wind of this patient trend and all of a sudden they have a new medication they get approved for a “new” condition that has really always been there as a symptom of a deeper situation already nailed by the corporations. So, by defining anxiety as its own conition, they can sell and make billions of dollars with drugs that are sold as remedies for anxiety when the anti-depressants attack the anxiety and always have. It’s all bullshit.”

While I agree with his general statement, I say “bullshit”to anxiety not being a standalone condition but hey, whatever gets me my Xanax. I said “Let me try Lexapro. I heard that’s not bad.”

He tells me I’ll have to fight with my insurance company. I said I don’t really care cause I fucking hate insurance companies. I will pay out of pocket. He puts his glasses to the tip of his nose and asks me if I am independently wealthy or just know not of what I speak.”  LOL! I said, “Well, probably B but how much could it possibly be?”

“$3-400. a month.”

I told him I’d see how it plays out cause I’m not thrilled with this stuff anyway so I certainly am not paying a hundred bucks a week for pills for a condition I don’t think is present. He begins to write the Xanax script. I say, “Is that for the same amount still?” He says “Yesssss.”  I say “Great” sarcastically.

We begin to   talk about my going to therapy again and he says he has a student available that he’s supervising. Now, understand, I do not mean to say this from an egotistical, Hannibal Lector like position but uhm, are you fucking kidding me? You want ME to go to a student? Me?????? Pardon but have we met? I am “non-verbal.” I am “defensive.” I am “angry and ready to pounce.” Let’s not forget I am unbelievably skilled in the art of manipulation when it comes to getting what I want. I mean really. I somehow got this doctor, the guy I went to because I was declared to have a Xanax addiction–the very same man who wanted me to go to an in house rehab facility when the addiciton was full on–to REPRESCRIBE me Xanax!

So I said, “Ahh, a student huh? Ya think?”

He paused and said, “You are a handful. Maybe not. Let me see whose available for what and we’ll get back to you. We decide these things on Tuesdays.”

I asked him if he was really so busy there that he couldn’t get me an appointment and he said “Tell George Bush to stop screwing up the world and there wouldn’t be so many people who need us. Oh, nevermind. You probably like him. You seem the type.”

LOL!!! Now, I USED to be a huge supporter and I still am to the degree that I have to support the office of the presidency adn root for success but errr, no. I jumped that ship in 2004. I didn’t dare tell him I was with Romney so I let him go on and he asked if I voted saying, “You know what they say…if you aren’t part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.”

3 weeks later.

Ask me if I ever got a call with an appointment with the therapist he’s been pushing forever.

The answer is no and now I’m back to not wanting to go.

Heath and the Benzos

Heath Ledger was clearly a very talented young guy and I am sorry to see him go.
From what I’m reading, the pills they found in his room were “anti-anxiety” medications and Ambien.I don’t know if I’ve ever relayed the stories of my trying to get some prescription sleep aids from my two doctors.
The answer has always been no. My primary refused to even recommend an over the counter sleep aid saying I needed to learn to sleep naturally.
The Jedi Mind Reader was not exactly open to the idea either. All I got from him was an abrupt no without explanation.

Well, I think I found my explanation in Heath Ledger’s room, assuming nothing more sinister such as heroin was involved.

I had once been told by some in the medical profession, after much badgering due to the apparently unspoken dark nature of the conversation, that many doctors are leary of prescribing a benzo and a sleep aid at the same time or giving a sleep aid to someone with a prior history of benzo abuse because the combination can very easily be lethal if ever the two should chemically meet on a random unfortunate evening in your body.

They are also hesitant because anxiety. or so I’ve been told, in the medical profession, is often viewed as a sympton of a greater underlying condition rather than a condition in and of itself. Since all these people want to give these days in the treatment of anxiety are SSRIs (aka anti-depressants), one can only assume anxiety is seen as a co-morbidity to depression and well, understandably, there is great trepidation in prescribing sleeping pills to someone they view as possibly, if not likely, clinically depressed.

This is not to say Heath Ledger was depressed or committed suicide. It is just an observation of the bigger picture as it applies to my own little deal here.
I need to remember I am not a doctor and I really need to be thankful that I no longer have doctors who I can manipulate or order around because quite frankly, I probably would have combined them in an attempt to get some sleep since the benzo alone doesn’t work and is so limited in supply.

There but for the grace of God…………….=

My Last Head Doctor Appointment

Well, it was interezting, to say the least. It began with my flipping out cause I couldn’t get a refill for the life of me. The last time I tried was a Friday. It was my third call to the office in a week. “Jim” told me my doctor doesn’t “do this” to which I offered an explanation as to why this should be an exception. “Jim” said he would call it in and if there were any problems, he would call me right back.

No call from Jim so silly ole me thought it was all set.

Did I mention it was Friday?

Did I mention it was a very long holiday weekend?

Right.

So I get to CVS. Surprise!!!  They claim no one called anything in. I made them check 4 times and then I had a small CVS army along with their pharmacist Captain insisting no one called anything in.

I called my doctor’s office that moment saying I was calling from the corner of aisle 10 of CVS because Jim, if that was his real name, had promised my script would be there and it isn’t and now I won’t sleep for 5 days and thanks!! (insert sarcasm)

as I was flipping out, I said “And what’s Jim’s story anyway? Is Jim quite alright or what?”  My doctor assured me jim was a fine guy and that he had in fact called it in. He showed me the script and the notes and the hard copy they sent.

I told him CVS told me absolutely not and that I almost got arrested for causing a scene. LOL!

Evidently he thought I was trying to scam him for another script or something cause he threatened to call CVS right then and there. I told him to go for it and GOD SPEED cause they are a bunch of stupid assholes.

He stared at me as he dialed.

Stare away brother.

He gets CVS on the phone, identifies himself as the doctor and is told they have no record of his having called it in. He told them that he did. They said he didn’t. I am sitting there saying, “See? Stupid assholes.” He is hushing me.  They proceed to tell him something about 30 pills and he get an “Oh really” tone to his voice and thanks them and hangs up.

He then proceeds to ask me who else is prescribing these to me cuase he was just told I filled a script for 4 a day and he would never….I interrupted him to let him know that I did NOT need him not believing me. He agreed and said he didn’t need me not believing him either, whatever that meant and we took a moment.

I explained that stupid asshole CVS promised me 30 pills of the brand name at the strength he prescribed in 2 days. I asked them if they were positive. Stupid asshole CVS says “Yes, positive.” So, mind you, I am expecting 30 brand name, as they told me that is what was called in. See my other post for details.

So I went on to explain that stupid asshole CVS never got the strength he prescribed and that they gave me double the number at half the strength.

He says, “Well, I gave you 30 at ” whatever strength not this strength.

I said “I told stupid asshole CVS that and they insisted you only called in 15 of the brand name, HENCE the 30 at 4 a day. No one carries the brand name cause everyone has just accepted shit for quality in this society.”

He tells me that they would get it for me wiht the script and I said BULLSHIT. They will only get them if there is a refill on the script. “Well, you’re not getting a refill.” 

“Well then I’m not getting brand name. Screw it. It’s a total pain in the ass and they all want to do fuzzy Xanax math that they suck at.”

He took out the old script he called in and it was for 30 at double the doseage stupid asshole CVS gave me. I asked him for a copy. He wanted to know why and I told him cause I wanted to go fight them. He asked me where that would get me. I said SAtisfactionville. He gave t to me.

At this point he jsut said he didn’t know what was going on but it seemed strange. Lovely. I pointed out that CVS just told him he didn’t call when he did call.

Anyhoo–I went on to tell him how stupid asshole CVS told my mother I was back on Xanax and that it took me literally, 4 days to lose the urge to drive my Jeep right through their front window. He thanked me for not doing so. LOL

As he wrote me a new script, he asked me if I was in therapy yet. This guy is sort of the poobah of a program and really writes scripts and runs clinics and oversees new psychiatrists so he doesn’t really “do” therapy in the type he wants me to have. I said “And what the hell is therapy going to do for me?”

The look I got after that statement was priceless and familiar.

I told him I know my problems and everything else to whicih he said that while he is sure I have insight into what my issues are, obviously I don’t know how to get myself out of where I am. OK. that was a good point.

I told him I really think all I need is more Xanax.

He looked at me again and said “Do you know how many times you have been after me for this? The answer has always been no. So what do you think the answer is today? No. You need therapy.”

I said “Isn’t the primary rule of all of this psychiatry business to let the patient talk when the patient is ready?” He said “Nooooo. Not necessarily and not when the patient is suppressing everything for 6 years with drugs. At some point it is the therapist’s job to push you to get you over hurdles.”

I said, “Well, I think I need more Xanax to help me consider therapy.”

I find it funny that I try and deal with this guy who has SO seen every time of bargaining in his years.

He asked me why it was that I wanted more.

I informed him that this current doseage was like living in Tic Tac-ville. “What?”  I repeated my self. “Tic tacs. I feel like I’m taking tic tacs. I am telling you. I will take what I can get but this does nothing for me.” He said, “You’ve got to be kidding me? This doseage does nothing for you? Ok. Tell me why you want more Xanax.”

I didn’t answer him.

“Well?????”

I told him to giveme a minute cause “you know..you have to be careful what you say and how you say things in these places and around people like you.”

He told me he already knows the answer so just say it.

So I did.

“Cause I like to check out.”

I paused and asked myself quietly if I really just said that to my psychiatrist. LOL!!

He seemed unfazed other than to say “Uh huh. And you think it’s my job to help you “check out?”

Again I said nothing for a second but then muttered a “To some degree…yeah.”

He then said, “Tell ya what. If you agree to go to real therapy and really work on all this, I will MAYBE, POSSIBLY, be more open to the idea of increasing your doseage slightly.”

I said I would think about it, we wrapped it up and that was that.

He gave me what was supposed to be enough to last me until February 1st.

I have 2 left.

“How to Save a Life”

I am biased towards this song for several reasons, chief among them, it was running on my favorite TV show, that’s right, “Grey’s Anatomy” commercials for a while and, this song was very popular during my first, shall we say, go around. If I hadn’t gone back to these bastard pills, I would be approaching one year sans stuff. But alas…….I know not how to save a life, let alone my own…ha ha

“Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it’s just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
You begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you’ve told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you’ve followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he’ll say he’s just not the same
And you’ll begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life
How to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life…”

I really relate to the whole smiling politely as someone says they “just wanna talk” as well as the staring out a window. LOL!! I actually probably couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve done that since someone told me I had an “issue” with Xanax.

I also love the whole slipping past a defense without granting innocence. The “others,” as I like to call them, ALWAYS think they know better and ALWAYS, without fail, think they ahave prepared for your responses to them–especially family. HA!
 

I Should Be Studying For the LSAT

…if I gave a shit about becoming a lawyer that is.

Instead? MORE LYRICS!

Only one more, I promise.

Rather Depressing Song But It Fits

From “Good will Hunting,” this guy wound up committing suicide–hardly surprising based on his song lyrics, no matter how darkly lovely they are. If you have this shit going through your head, it’s only a matter of time really, imo.

“drink up, baby, stay up all night
the things you could do, you won’t but you might
the potential you’ll be, that you’ll never see
the promises you’ll only make

drink up with me now and forget all about the pressure of days
do what I say and I’ll make you okay and drive them away
the images stuck in your head

people you’ve been before that you don’t want around anymore
that push and shove and won’t bend to your will
I’ll keep them still

drink up, baby, look at the stars
I’ll kiss you again between the bars where I’m seeing you
there with your hands in the air, waiting to finally be caught

drink up one more time and I’ll make you mine
keep you apart deep in my heart separate from the rest
where I like you the best and keep the things you forgot

the people you’ve been before that you don’t want around anymore
that push and shove and won’t bend to your will
I’ll keep them still”

 His name was Elliott Smith. 

Smashing Pumpkins’ Lyrics

Always loved this song and clearly, I am in a mood this evening.

“Freak out
And give in
Doesnt matter what you believe in
Stay cool
And be somebodys fool this year
cause they know
Who is righteous, what is bold
So Im told

Who wants honey
As long as theres some money
Who wants that honey?

Hipsters unite
Come align for the big fight to rock for you
But beware
All those angels with their wings glued on
cause deep down
We are frightened and were scared
If you dont stare

Who wants honey
As long as theres some money
Who wants that honey?

Let me out
Let me out
Let me out
Let me out

Tell me all of your secrets
Cannot help but believe this is true
Tell me all of your secrets
I know, I know, I know
Should have listened when I was told

Who wants honey
As long as there is some money
Who wants that honey?

Let me out
Let me out
Let me out
Let me out”

An Interesting Read

I read this a few years ago after a friend had a meltdown at work and I contacted her a few months into her leave to let her know that I, too, lol, was about to flip my proverbial lid but literally.

It’s a tad dark with some light here and there, but I think it will speak to certain individuals. 

 It is entitled, “Veronika Decides to Die” by Paulo Coelho and here is one review.

“If you’ve ever seen growing older as a never-ending series of compromises, you may sympathize with Veronika. Outwardly, she’s got everything going for her: she’s young, attractive, and has a good job. But she isn9t passionate about anything, and sees people around her as living routines rather than lives. So, at 24, relatively happy but convinced life doesn’t really get any better, she decides to die.

So, on a random sunny day, she sits on her bed and methodically takes sleeping pills until she loses consciousness, satisfied she has broken from her routine at last. When she wakes up in a mental hospital a few days later, she wants nothing more than to continue with her plan. She’s worried that she may lose her nerve if she doesn’t act quickly, dooming her to the meaningless, cowardly life she dreads. But her rush to end it all changes when her doctor gives her some unexpected news: the pills she took have severely damaged her heart and she will likely die in a matter of days.

With the chore of having to kill herself lifted, Veronika begins to live. Coelho, the award-winning author of The Alchemist, uses Veronika’s last days to explore the relationships people build with each other, with society, and with themselves. Coelho draws the other patients, all variously disconnected, as reminders of how fragile the human spirit can be, but also how resilient. Veronika affects them as strongly as they do her, and what she learns makes her question everything she believes, and truly live each day as if it were her last.

Despite the weight of the title, Coelho keeps Veronika’s story surprisingly light, and the book is a joy to read. With its economical prose, clear narrative and philosophical explorations on the meaning of love and life, this life-affirming book reads like a modern classic.

–David Tindall