the unfathomable misery of being

I had really been dreading this morning’s appointment with the psychologist who I had originally contacted via an insurance company referral to diagnose my mental health condition. On my first and only previous visit, the conversation around my future care seemed to take a turn away from the diagnostic agenda I had and more toward jumping immediately into a long term treatment plan.  However, as is almost always the case with me, I got wrapped up in the moment and just sort of went along and agreed to whatever the good doctor was saying. It was not until after the appointment when I had more time to consider the meeting that I realized I had not really gotten my point across. 

So, I’ve been planning and rehearsing this big confrontation where I had to be firm, but not stern, trying to stress to this guy how important this was to me and why. It’s been very stressful because I don’t typically do well when asserting myself against a person I perceive to have expertise or authority in the topic at hand. I tend to acquiesce and defer to their judgement. 

Today, however, went much differently than I had expected. Rather than start the appointment by immediately putting my foot down and demanding satisfaction, the conversation progressed naturally. Though I had envisioned starting right off with staunch self advocacy with uncompromising conviction, had I truly analyzed that plan, I would have known that was never going to happen. It’s just not me.

Instead, I waited carefully for the right moment to segue into the topic, but as it turned out, the doc brought up the greater general topic of a treatment plan and I seized the moment and went into kind of an autopilot mode where I explained my needs through a completely off the cuff, unscripted and unpracticed, from the heart rambling about how after 30 years of failing I need to know or feel very certain that I’m taking the right path in terms of treatment modalities and I described my mental roadblock to continued therapy without a diagnosis and then I sort of outlined my expectations of what the diagnosis process might be like by talking about how I imagined the process to be, which included targeted questions and observations and any other “testing” necessary. 

So, I think we’re on the same page and somehow, despite my perceived need to prepare for the encounter, just going with the flow proved to be a much better angle. It reminds me of the adage about the pen and the sword. Perhaps going in all guns blazing is not the most effective approach, after all. 

It was only in hindsight that I was able to see that the problem I perceived was more likely due to inadequate communication rather than the deliberate act of sabotaging my life, as I had originally surmised. It seems that, as usual, my assumptions missed the mark. 

I left the appointment with a thank you and a handshake and as I walked out of the office, I experienced a few moments of intense satisfaction, like things were finally going my way and I even smiled at someone on my way out of the building. Also, I shit you not, I had a strange physical sensation that felt like my entire body was buzzing, similar to a very strong marijuana high, but with much greater mental clarity. I also felt a sense of lightness or lack of weight and very weirdly, I felt taller. It was all very pleasant.

The after party only lasted about two minutes and then I had to start the work day. As usual, the good times never last.

-HomieCidal Brainiac