I’ve got my appointment at the hospital today, which means I’m already something resembling a nervous wreck inside. I had been doing okay… but then they called me pre-caffeine and asked if I’d be amenable to switching to an earlier afternoon slot. Sure, why not? And yet, while it means that I have less time to fret, my body took that as a cue to start fretting immediately and thoroughly … ?!
I don’t know why my body does this every time, but I have my suspicions. Because I have so little practical experience with the whole psych/mental health helping thingie, I don’t know what to expect. I also don’t look forward to mentioning my attempt of two months ago, or the other little things like the sparkly headaches and the increased OCD behavior. Because of the whole trying to get pregnant thing, that leaves me in an awkward place regarding my treatment. I’d love to get on with trying a bigger dose of the Seroquel. I’d love to see if an anti-depressant add-on would have a positive effect on reducing anxiety (though the chamomile that I desperately need to restock has helped a surprising amount).
Anyways, I’m sure it’s going to be fine. It’s not like they’re going to rescind my diagnosis and tell me to quit being a drama queen. It’s not like I’m going to be taken off meds (though I’ll likely try to go without when I do get pregnant, if only to avoid a horrible nasty hospitalized birth of massive soul-destroying stress+5,000,000), and it’s not like they’re going to try to hospitalize me for the spot blip that was my suicide attempt of sorts months ago. And once I make it past that, I have a perfectly lovely child-free date night arranged, so… maybe I can trick my brain into thinking about that… *sniggers* Yeah right!
Ah well… so it goes.