Psychology is bullshit

I think that the profession of psychology is total bullshit. They decide what you are and then manipulate how you behave to fit whatever diagnosis or prognosis most benefits them.
Then they teach you to be independent or dependent depending on what they want the outcome to be. I bet most people going to psychologists actually have a better perception of reality than the therapists.
Okay, that is a bit of an angry, jaded exaggeration.
But I am starting to really understand why my friend does not want to go because she is afraid of "something like that happening." To trust, be betrayed or manipulated and then discarded like trash and told treatment is complete. That is such bullshit.
"You truly are the worthless trash you questioned you were coming in. We can confirm that for you, solidify it into a solid belief. Yep, you are not worth our time but we will still charge you for it." what a great note to end on. And all your efforts to understand your own mood stability, to clarify, set the record straight and to have your questions about your mental state answered are going to be warped into whatever egotistical power play they want to use to get you to go away. But you better believe they will not negotiate. Why would they? You are merely a liability for asking and must be looking to do as much harm as they have. Or you must just be looking for a lawsuit because nobody in the real world actually cares and the professional and personal worlds only cross when someone is looking to make money, right? It's such bullshit.
"do no ...more... harm [then they can]"
Yep, I'd rather be my kind of crazy.

Opioids?

It was a good reset and I am still feeling strength from it.
But last night -hard time sleeping.
Because I didn't feel like I needed it
Oh no
...and new thoughts
not that this is bad, but remember
I am a bit fragile in my stability.
Opioids-hydrocodone
These things kill pain. They make you feel good, that is why people get addicted. Oh yeah... hmm could this be the real reason why I felt "normal" and so happy about it?
Should I just enjoy that and go with it?
Since it was about 1:00 am and I had not overly slept that day after really not sleeping before getting up at 5 am for surgery... although I had a great nap going under...
-I do, at times, think it would be nice to just not even worry about such things.
But alas for me that is not always the wise option and that is okay. I am okay with thinking it through and planning ahead to keep me "stable." I find my mind to be a fascinating place at times and this is one of those. I am fascinating to study when I am "crazy" and to truly figure it out sometimes I need to test and research but now does not seem like a good time to test with a new drug.
So opioids: what might be the potential risks there for me?
My husband was surprised they weren't knocking me out. Of course I was only taking one. My pain has been tiny, I am more trying to "stay ahead of the pain" and control swelling.
But this new drug is definitely not knocking me out and... crap, this is odd, that sex drive is feeling... stronger...
So I took to my phone for a moment, to research a bit, to make sure I am staying in a reasonably safe place.
okay phone "can opioids trigger mania?" I am pretty sure, as fun as that can be, I do not want that while I am trying to heal an ankle that requires 6 weeks of no weight bearing. And it is 6 weeks, believe me, I tried to get the doctor to negotiate on that, but, nope six weeks is the minimum on this one to be sure it heals correctly and if I am going to go through the hassle I want it to heal correctly. so mania... probably not a good time to test that.
What does my search turn up? ncbi.nln.nih.gov "Mood-elevating effects of opioid analgesics in patients with bipolar disorder"
disclaimer: I do not claim bipolar. I struggle with mood stability but this could be more head injury related than anything else. I still don't recall if I have formally been diagnosed. I refuse those (formal diagnosis's). I do not feel they are helpful when there is so much stigma attached and I do not want to be defined by that label. Also I have (or at least believe I have) been able to figure out and monitor myself reasonably well to stay level. At times I go on medication but I do not always need medication. However, that is the label that turns up again and again when I search for answers and solutions to help me stay safely and reasonably grounded. (it is times like this that I feel very cheated by the neuropsychiatrist that dropped me and now refuses to talk to me, but I digress) but in this information I find that opioids have been found to be helpful in "refractory depression" -refractory; that is a new word, it just means stubborn. Which I do not have, but the fact that it helps in with depression is interesting. I also find that "analgesic opioids" have been found to trigger mania in one study. There is not a ton of information immediately so it is not likely a well studied or common knowledge "problem." But it is enough for me to rethink the use of the opioids. The pleasant mood is nice but at 3:45 am I decided on ibuprofen and melatonin... I need to keep a decent sleep cycle and I suppose if there is a risk of mania I will opt out for now. I've got things to do that would be best to stay level through.
It is fascinating though that our pain receiving part of the brain does not distinguish between physical and psychological pain. It is no wonder that yesterday I felt so much more free of that burden... maybe I will end up carefully using these opioids but not to kill the ankle pain and more research is needed before I make that decision. (to be clear, I am referring to the potential of carefully using a low dose to pull through the heartache and psychological pain of my recent loss. I am not implying anything illegal, irresponsible or suicidal)

Pleasantries and Surgeries

YAY! Ankle surgery done and I'm going to be okay.
I am seriously so happy right now that my surgeon is now my new boyfriend.
I am totally kidding about the boyfriend (he's not, it's only funny in light of recent events -that weren't actually even like that)
But I am seriously happy because surgery went well and I came out of anesthesia just fine.
No weird freaky emotions that I was fearing. Nothing like coming out of anesthesia 12 years ago when I had my wisdom teeth removed.
It means I am not so broken after all. I am really truly going to be just fine.
Going in I was sooo scared. Toughing it out and pleasantry with the nurse that set the iv and all that but nervous.
Then the operation nurse came in... and, oh no, not another bizarre emotional coincidence. It was my brother's ex-mother-in-law. Not someone I feel too fondly of for a few good reasons. And I had to trust her?  I have not seen her for a couple of years and we don't know each other in person all that well so she either didn't recognize me or acted as though she did not recognize me but I definitely recognized her. A conundrum. What to do? Request a new nurse? Not really anytime. So when she came back I reminded her of who I was. She was kind and polite, she even gave me a hug. That was good and she introduced me as the aunty to her grand babies, great direction to take it. It made me feel a little better about it. She wheeled me to the operating room. "I thought I was supposed to be asleep before I came into this scary place" I nervously joked with my doctor.
...But still those histories are hard to erase so quickly and with the nerves already wearing thin and so much to take in in this new room with the familiar and unfamiliar faces I started feeling really funny before they started to drug me. I had to remind myself to breath which really made me cry and it started to feel like a melt down. Fortunately the surgeon and the anesthesiologist and both nurses were so kind and quick to get me to sleep. The anesthesiologist was so sweet and he laughed with me but reassured me when it turned to tears, still carefully holding onto some of my humor as he put me out. Even the nurses/tech, including bro's ex-ma-in-law were sweet as they busily prepped.
The next thing I knew I was waking up and feeling very normal. A little funny but normal and that made me so happy that the new nurses thought I was happy delirious. I was a little but really much more coherent than any of them understood. I'm sure they thought it was strange that I was so happy about my blood pressure and heart rate 114/69 with 54 bpm before and 109/sixty-something with bpm ranging from 45-55 after. That is more like it. That is what my heart likes to be at. I was so relieved to feel so level and happy that it was quite a pleasant experience.
Yay. I needed that.
Surgery was fun and relaxing compared to the crazy that has been going on with me these past few months.
Who'd have thought?
I am confident I can handle this now. I have some faith restored in the medical industry again and I have some faith restored in myself again.

Avoidance: my treacherous friend

but in the end I wouldn't even let him open up to me. I kept cutting him off before he could say things that I knew would either get him into trouble or hurt me. I would not let him finish. I would not listen... because I was still protecting
...how does that even work...
I suppose I am safe again. in my sameness
and so is he.
what a miserable place to be.
Even though it is not;
it's ever so interesting
always
and I'll turn it around again... I suppose. maybe I'll do a better job this time.
Maybe I won't
I think I'll go for a walk now
I'll have more time tomorrow for all these stupid haunting head games -tomorrow
bare my sole and get over it completely
You know reality is the best way to kill fantasy. I should have let him be the real I was asking for when I had the chance even though it was hurting more than I could stand...
I didn't avoid anything.
avoidance
you are not a true friend
even though I love you dearly
You hurt me.
again and again
and my family

Screwed up

I feel nauseous
I go in tomorrow (for that ankle surgery)
my husband is tiring of my mental mess, that is likely to happen, and understandably so, even more because my escalated sex drive is dying/fading.
I am hoping that the man (Dr. P) who is making me pay for my femininity, vulnerabilities, ignorance, foolishness, childishness, strength of character, ability and willingness to love and forgive, desire to understand and be understood, is reading this. I hope he is reading this to keep tabs on me, to know my next move. I hope he is smart enough to know that he can protect himself by doing that.
But I am foolish because they will use whatever I do against me. "twist my words" "behave inappropriately"
I feel sick because it is such a mess to me when the solution is so simple. Do your job, what you have been trained to do. Or is the job a scam? Is it all just insurance fraud?
Money
Is that what it is all about?
Money and sex
I am a prostitute now because my mind has been so screwed up to believe that it was something more than merely transference and counter-transference. so screwed up that I now feel like that is what I am good for.
I failed to give the therapist what he really wanted (sex) so now I'm getting the bills that  conveniently had not been charged. But my husband is happy enough with all of this bullshit because he is getting more of it. He is not so happy about the bills that he has to pay for that turned my heart elsewhere though and as I am becoming "worse off than I was before" (his words) and my sex drive is fading I am certain things will not stay as peaceful.
 ...And with the sex he is the replacement now. and he is paying for it in so many ways. But I can keep him happy... or at least I could
Tomorrow I have ankle surgery. for the same damn accident that had me seeing that neuropsychologist
This is literally fucked up
and this full confession is so much more than I care to publish but this is fucked up and I didn't do this to myself.
I'm scared.
I'll face it
but I'm scared
I'm broken
I'll face it
but I'm broken
I'm confused
I'm facing it
but I'm confused
I'm mostly okay
I'm working to be
and I'll keep working to be
but I'm really not
I'm a piece of shit that is easily discarded
and I am angry and hurt
I am angry that I can do nothing to get answers. I am angry that said therapist is holding power over me and does not care how it is effecting me. He does not give a shit about me after saying things that made me feel like I could be his whole world. I'm angry that he played with my head and my heart like that when I made it very clear that I was not in a safe or stable place, that I had an intense personality. It feels very calculated, like maybe his actions were calculated manipulations. But it went awry because I am. Because even though on paper and in appearance I seem like the perfect target, I am not, because I know too much the reality of what his profession proclaims to try and help. Because I am too familiar with real victims, I've worked to hard to understand and to help too many; friends and family members.
So now I deserved to be destroyed?
And still, am I foolish to hold onto the belief that this could have been accidental? that he could have gotten lost in his profession and his own pain and vulnerabilities?
I'd so much rather talk it out. I am capable of that. As screwed up as I have been, I at least know that about myself. That is one thing I have not lost with my concussion, rejections, firing. I can talk things through, but I am not the only one on the road. To talk things through it takes two (or more). I still have and can, and do. but the ones who cannot sure have been hurtful lately.
and I'm pounding my head against a wall. trying to kick a closed door down... like I knew that I would. Why? Because it hurt too much. because it was too much "there will be no further discussion" no wait, that was the shitty school that fired me, the ones who blame the kids for all the behavior problems. As a teacher you are supposed to adapt how you are teaching if the majority of your class isn't understanding the concept. but no, not with them. And they would tell the kids "I knew you couldn't do it" and things like that. THAT was NOT me. I was NOT the problem there. I am NOT the problem with Dr. P but I was there because I wanted to fix the problem that I was... whatever that was... but when it seemed to be working, "nope, your too broken, and you're screwing me up so were done and there will be no further discussion"... Maybe it was me at the school too. Maybe I screwed them up. It really is all my fault? "you isolate yourself"
It's so shitty. I am so angry at myself and Dr. He that really didn't love me, but let me believe it to get rid of me.
Just tell me what it was and I'll believe you. Just don't shut the door completely... not yet. Not until you have done your job, walk me through this. As my therapist you can fuck me up, you have that power over me there. And you did. But in the real world you can't "fuck this up," because that is not your job, only I can. Only I have that power over me and I seriously doubt I really have that kind of power over you. If I do, I can help you; talk you through it. I can't make any guarantees but I can at least help you help me... or have I already made too big of a mess? or was it a game and grooming and I failed your tests? then that is the other story and I suppose the way to go really is to file a complaint and pursue that path... conundrum and fuckundrum... I am too much... Yep, I'd be scared of me too... told you so.
Now I'm going snowboarding. to enjoy my last day of freedom. At least my last day in a long time... and I'll edit this later if I feel so inclined. Probably when I'm immobile and on the other side of the next big adventure. No walking... no doing... ugh

Fun Adventures through Hell

Surgery on my ankle in 2 days
 and then no weight bearing for 6 weeks.
Hell for 6 weeks
Stuck in my head... I am terrified
I think my heart might die in surgery though
It might not be strong enough
so then I would escape hell.
but it's only 6 weeks to 9 months of hell
after 9 months I should be able to be back to my regular loves of running, hiking, snowboarding
etc.
So I suppose I hope my heart doesn't fail me completely.
My poor family
they will have to endure my hell too.
that sucks.
... to look at it positively
I'm thinking it will be an exciting new adventure.
Definitely something I have never done before.
Maybe I will find new strength as I suffer through the hells of stuck... really stuck.
Maybe I can turn all my 200+ pages of crazy into a real boy book (I'm sure that is funny only to me, but its funny)
"Psychotherapy Gone Crazy"

Taboos and Forbiddens

Taboos and forbiddens
mess with people's minds
in terrible ways