Time I'm Not Getting Back

What's sad is I glanced at the last post and saw the line about the day being a waste.

Well, today was also a wash.

My doc put me up for a clinic way back in July or Aug of this past year. I was mostly annoyed with the doc at the time and figured 'what the hell' as in, I had nothing to lose.

A month ago I finally got the letter giving me my appointment time which was today at 1:30pm. Yes, I was pissed about the time but I'm nothing if not willing to try and get better.

For any newbies (really?) I have had panic attacks all my life. I became agoraphobic at around 28 years old after 18 years of almost daily attacks. I then went to get help and climbed my ass out of that hole and live the glamorous life I lead now.

Yes, sarcasm.

Let's just say, I've never fully recovered in that I can't drive too far by myself or really travel anywhere by myself. Thing is, 10 years later I'm not all that upset about my life. It works for me and I'm content. Sure I have bad days where I wonder where I went wrong but I remember there are people dealing with much worse and for the most part, I'm living a charmed life.

But again, I'm nothing if not willing to learn more and get past more hurdles when it comes to anxiety.

So I go to this clinic today.

Keep in mind I've been anxious about it. Wondering what kind of poking they'll be doing and if they'll judge me for the way I am.

I get there and let me tell you the place is partially a sanatorium (if that's where they keep mentally ill people) and it's depressing as any level of hell. Creepy.

So I find my way and I'm taken in by the intake person.

About half an hour later she's asking me why I'm at the clinic.

Huh?

I give the general sum up.

She looks confused.

"Okay, why did your doctor send you here?"

I'm pretty sure I gave her my WTF look. Like I mind read.

"What did your doctor think we could help you with?"

At this point I'm wondering if my doc even sent a note - you know, this patient has XYZ wrong.

I'm confused as to why I would know what my doctor would expect. Hell, I'm not even sure what to expect.

After a few minutes I'm told:

"Uh, this is a Cognitive Behavioural Therapy for depression and well, you aren't depressed"

Yep.

No shit I'm not depressed. Where the hell am I!?!

I have to wait longer to see the actual psychiatrist or whatever and get even more flack.

Basically being asked again why my doctor sent me. Again, I don't read minds or mind meld with other people so you are asking the wrong person.

I'm told I have an anxiety disorder (no shit) and that I am avoiding things and that I could go back to the clinic I went to 10 years ago but I don't seem motivated to change.

Did you catch that nugget of judgement?

I don't seem motivated to change.

I drove my ass here and sat for an hour with your intake (social worker) person in what I'm thinking is an insane asylum and stayed long enough to meet you after realizing I was probably not going to get any help from you.

Meh.

Maybe I'm not motivated to change.

Then again, I don't buy into that.

I'm not motivated by the idea that I need to walk into the damn panic attacks and deal. Yeah, that doesn't motivate me in the least.

I walked that path and fought that battle and I'm good.

I'm not stellar but I'm happy. If they come out with some sort of 'cure' then sign me the hell up. Until then, I'm not looking to get all panicky and have full fledged panic attacks because I want to get 20 minutes from my house. Thanks but no thanks.

I'll just wait for Bob to get home and go out with him.

So there's an afternoon I won't be getting back. Let's not talk about the anxiety over the past month. No really, let's not poke the C-Rex.

But hey, I'll take some good news out of it.

I got much deeper into my current book Untamed by Pamela Clare and it rocks! It'll probably take me till next week to finish it because I'm in the middle of a ton of life stuff (I'll tell you later) so there's always that.

I mentioned the place was creepy though, right? Wasn't exactly relaxing while reading. Then they had this radio blasting over these speakers in the waiting room with odd music and talk radio about hospitals.

Bad news?

I now have the image of what a real life insane asylum looks like embedded in the brain. I'm sure it'll make my nightmares just that much more realistic.