...not the same as the old pshrink....
My new psychiatrist appears to be in his 30s. He's of Chinese background, wide shouldered, fast talking, and was totally indignant for me that I was never properly diagnosed or treated for that post partum depression I had twelve years ago. He wants... wait for this, you won't believe it... He wants to help me.
Basically this guy is the exact opposite of the dude who provided head-pshrinking services for me a few years ago, Dr Frankenbushy. That guy made me feel like an insignificant messed-up stupid whiny nutso person.
Look, let's make this clear: I've felt some degree of crazy for most of my life. I'm generally okay with it. Being slightly off compared to the rest of the world feels normal, dare I say, comfortable, to me. What I can't have is that crumbled, white knuckled feeling that I'm losing. Losing my grip, my balance, losing my identity, losing my life. That is not crazy - that is scary.
So Dr C asked me if I've ever lost touch with reality. My answer?
"No... well, yeah. Um, I think so. I dunno. What reality do you mean?"
He smiled and nodded and I think he checked the "Yes" box.
He's discussing our options and asking about my history - which I am really sick of recounting, I might add- and told me that I'm smart and high functioning. By that he means I've been able to get out of the house and drive a vehicle (usually) and make it appear that all's well.
In other words, I am a brilliant actress.
Which one of me is acting, haha hahaa hahahaha....
I told him that I'm not good at being medicated and that I'm quite scared of drugs. He's being very cautious with treatments. I am totally overwhelmed AGAIN but at least I feel like somebody's on my side and is willing to work with me.
If I could rule the world, I'd get a Dr C for everybody who needs one.