a Scarlet D

tl;dr Whining and self sabotage. Pretty sure it’s going to be boring for you all.

The psychologist I was talking to about EMDR turned out to be a marriage and family counselor who has EMDR as one of his skills. I have a call with him Wednesday where I’ll be letting him go. Appointment with the social worker in a few weeks to talk about finding a new EMDR person who does that on more of a full time thing. Honestly if we don’t find one I’d be fine. The idea of hiring someone to remove or decrease my SI is not something I’m really jazzed about. I need my SI.

Saw the new Psychologist at the TRD clinic again, still trying to figure out if I want him to be my therapist. I’ve been with my current therapist from the beginning of this depressive episode, 2019. She chats a lot, but she does stir things up. She also lets me vent, which I’m coming to realize is extremely important, especially venting to a care team member. The methodology he wants to try is about finding ways to be happy, not finding ways to be less sad. I guess it makes sense, but this also goes against my current deal. I would prefer a therapist that I can vent to, who doesn’t assign homework. I don’t really want a therapist who will help me. See also paragraph above.

What I feel like I really want is bad. I don’t want help. I want to become so sleep deprived, undernourished, negative and pessimistic as possible. I want those things and more to make me worse, and ultimately push me over the edge, literally. There’s self hatred in there, and a lack of self respect and probably some good old fashioned depression based laziness.

TMS ends on Wednesday. Another therapy cliff. We’ve talked about DBT but I haven’t followed up. Because why? I’ve been through it three times already. With the ending of another TMS (third round) series I feel like I’m coming through the other end. When I started this journey we had so many things to try. Meds, electricity making me convulse, magnetic beams into my head, clinical grade drug trips, Brain pace maker in chest, etc. And now I’m coming out the other end, all of the options and therapies are behind me. See? My depression is so good at turning anything good, bad.

I never used to cry, especially for my care team. Three of them have gotten me in the last two weeks. One of those was with my therapist but I was also yelling. I feel like that’s a bad thing. I’m as bad as I’ve been and tired. Tired of driving to the clinic, tired of having things hit me in the head or popping out of my chest. Tired of talk about it. Tired of every new intake provider asking me the questions and asking for my story. I feel like I’m just repeating my last post.

Going to have the VNS turned down a notch ASAP. It’s painful and I feel it every single five minute mark. When it goes off, I rush to it with a magnet, but before I get there I feel choked and trapped and panicky. If the PCS study needs me to be higher for longer, so be it. I haven’t heard from them in a minute and feel less and less sure that I want to be a grad students brain experiment.

I don’t really know what else to say.