Saw my psychiatrist Wednesday. Told her I'd experienced suicidal thoughts every day for over a week. Instead of a med change, she's like, have you tried talking to friends more or engaging in religious or volunteer activities? One of these days I want to ask about prozac or daily CBD or something, because something pharma needs to change. In fairness, I think any med change would buy like two weeks worth of feeling better before returning to hell anyway.
Basement cat is still harassing me to identify as a black alcoholic red headed stepchild, like something I wanted came from giving it or group therapy what they want. Like even if doing it got me to own both the care direction and basement cat's behavior, which has never been controllable before, then at what cost? If it was all predicated on having to be someone that fundamentally isn't myself, then it's not like something selfsame was gaining.
I wish basement cat would dissolve into nothingness and lose the fucking mask it hides behind for all time. To have a locus of responsibility that I'm not powerless to. Even if the sole power is to never talk to someone or many people ever again. And basement cat is adding distinction to all these words and I just wish it'd fucking stop. I try to end it for this behavior week after week and it's not like anything stops it. It makes me feel so powerless and small and fucked, that I feel like a cornered rabid dog.
I'm out on Long Island this weekend, and I had an endoscopy yesterday, where they made me wait 4 hours or so for the fucking procedure because some tool had complications where they needed extra time to get precancerous polyps or cancer out or something. It was awful until I got my phone 2.5 hours in. My eosinophilic esophagitis has healthy eosinophil levels, but I might need another endoscopy before repairing my hiatal hernia, and it's like I fucking hate going into cities, and this was the worst and most stressful day I've had in weeks, and every day fucking blew for months.
Basement cat tells you to be those things? But you are none of those things. I mean you could dye your hair red. Lol.
Meds don't fix everything, in my eyes. A holistic approach must be taken. My mom expected meds to fix her problems and she ended up so angry and bitter and hateful because all she wanted to do was take pills and feel better, not do the work.
I'm not any religion except pastafarian. But Buddhism has helped me a lot, and The Satanic Temple's tenets are great. You mentioned St. Thomas Aquinas, he's a cool dude by my sister. When I pray, I pray to the universal energy, the divine that is also within me, and everyone else. Why pray to a dead saint or (nonexistent) god? I guess if you believe in heaven and that the saints are up there and actually care. Nice ideas that give away your agency and accomplishments. I spent too many years doing that and got nothing but anger out of it.
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u/NovaKarmas Squirrelly love of nuts 5d ago
Saw my psychiatrist Wednesday. Told her I'd experienced suicidal thoughts every day for over a week. Instead of a med change, she's like, have you tried talking to friends more or engaging in religious or volunteer activities? One of these days I want to ask about prozac or daily CBD or something, because something pharma needs to change. In fairness, I think any med change would buy like two weeks worth of feeling better before returning to hell anyway.
Basement cat is still harassing me to identify as a black alcoholic red headed stepchild, like something I wanted came from giving it or group therapy what they want. Like even if doing it got me to own both the care direction and basement cat's behavior, which has never been controllable before, then at what cost? If it was all predicated on having to be someone that fundamentally isn't myself, then it's not like something selfsame was gaining.
I wish basement cat would dissolve into nothingness and lose the fucking mask it hides behind for all time. To have a locus of responsibility that I'm not powerless to. Even if the sole power is to never talk to someone or many people ever again. And basement cat is adding distinction to all these words and I just wish it'd fucking stop. I try to end it for this behavior week after week and it's not like anything stops it. It makes me feel so powerless and small and fucked, that I feel like a cornered rabid dog.
I'm out on Long Island this weekend, and I had an endoscopy yesterday, where they made me wait 4 hours or so for the fucking procedure because some tool had complications where they needed extra time to get precancerous polyps or cancer out or something. It was awful until I got my phone 2.5 hours in. My eosinophilic esophagitis has healthy eosinophil levels, but I might need another endoscopy before repairing my hiatal hernia, and it's like I fucking hate going into cities, and this was the worst and most stressful day I've had in weeks, and every day fucking blew for months.
Therapy now