I've just returned from my first appointment with my psychiatrist since my hospital discharge, which i was nervous enough about, but i walk into the room and surprise! There's another woman. She's my case worker. And. And! We need to go over everything again for her.
"Let's see. Overdose "fingers" serious attempt "fingers" 1994. Ten years gestating, lactating. Depression summer 2006. Effexor 150 trial. Headaches, sleeplessness, weight loss, brainshivers. Effexor weaning february 2007. Overdose "fingers" not serious "fingers" two weeks ago."
"so jess. How's life been since then?"
So we talked. And talked. And talked.
And he said "How come you laugh whenever you should cry? Are you going to cry? Ever?"
"When am i going to see you in emergency again?"
And so we talked. And then we talked about toby.
And! Ha-ha! I cried.
And we talked a bit more, made a few more appointments and he sent me on my dragging my heart along the pavement way.
Posted by Jess at 05:48 PM Permalink
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My guy (who I do like) would give you 15 minutes -
you could be in crisis or fine, 15 minutes, 18 if you are crying too hard to leave.
Posted by blackbird | April 11, 2007 06:28 PM