I received the letter for my next psychiatrist appointment — yay, sort of! It was originally mailed out at the end of June, and I don’t know where it ended up from there, but it came to us from a completely different place with exactly one week of notice. Great. Considering I’ve already had troubles with the local health services over them misrepresenting my attendance of appointments and them trying to use it as an excuse to not treat me, I’m kind of ticked off and freaked out about it.
There is also the pleasure and annoyance of having nothing in particular to report. I seriously can’t think of anything bigger than being a bit tired lately, yanno? Maybe it’s a mixed episode right now, and I will endeavour to mention that, but it’s so mild and suppressed as to be a non-issue, easily managed by self-awareness. I guess this is what they call remission? It’s a neat place to be, whatever the name.
Of course, that means I’m SUPER paranoid that I’m going to go off the deep end the second I tell the doctor that I’m doing fine. While I always have the option of going to A&E in that case, I’m justifiably concerned that doing such would end up with me being involuntarily committed. I’d rather tough it out the 2-4 months until I see a doctor again rather than risk that happening. I’m also properly concerned about the bastard back-shivver that’s known as self-fulfilling prophecy, so I’m trying to not think too too hard about things either.
Anyways, it should all be fine, as long as I can keep my brain from panicking itself unnecessarily! Simples, right? *laughs* Okay, not that simple, else I’d have perfectly even sailing at all times with no meds. So off I go to take deep breaths, and to try and immerse myself happily (and brain-distractingly) in work. I hope that everyone is having a good day.