A Psychiatric Thanksgiving
Happy Thanksgiving!
On Thanksgiving 2012, I had Parkinson's Disease. No one knew it but me.
I had been diagnosed about a month before. I was still trying to figure out how to deal with it and wasn't quite ready to "come out."
I started to tell people about two weeks later. By Christmas, my family and close friends knew. It was my Christmas/Hanukah present to them.
Fast forward to last Tuesday and I was talking to my psychiatrist (hence the title). Those are words I never figured I'd ever say, much less write where a million people could read.
We've been conducting a few weeks of psychological testing. Tuesday was the day we chatted about the results, or in laymans terms...just how fucked up my brain is.
He told me three things I need to work on. Yeah, I know...only three?
First, I don't deal with death well. Shit...who does?
Two and three are similar. I tend to internalize things and I have issues with asking for help.
See how these things relate to the opening. Apparently he felt waiting two months to tell anyone plus trying to handle it on my own is a bad thing. I wonder what he'd say if he knew the only reason I ever say anything is so I can write about it here.
Ah yes...you can picture the hamsters running around the wheel in my brain.
It's funny how life works. I signed up for testing so I could add more stuff to my disability claim. Pretty tricky, right? I end up with two meetings a week for an undetermined time.
I did this so I could get government aid so I wouldn't have to work. Now between this dude and my therapist, I'll have three sessions a week that are more tiring than working, with a lot less pay. At least the shrink can prescribe drugs....any requests?
I'm taking his advice starting right now. HELP!! I need somebody. Won't you please, please help me!!!!
It's Thanksgiving 2013. I have Parkinson's Disease. Everybody and their mothers knows.
Happy Thanksgiving!