I wouldn’t say yesterday was a “very bad day.”

It was a very exhausting day. It was trying. Frustrating. Upsetting.
But, not ‘very bad.’ Very bad is a absence of good and there is good. There’s good in every day, even if it is bad.
Even if the sun rises, it’s good, despite what may come. Hopefully, the Ukrainians who haven’t seen their families for a while feel the same way.

Yesterday, I went to see Mimi.
Mimi is a 67-year-old therapist at Centerstone. Centerstone is like a clearinghouse for mental health. As I understand it, the primary clients are people who go through abuse, substance abuse, and are homeless. It’s not a place I would frequent or even consider but was put into that position by circumstance.

Dr. S – the main doctor who provides my mind-altering pills said I needed additional assistance, or she was going to drop me.

From my view, I think that this could impact my insurance. I have free and complete coverage because of how messed up I am/was. I’m not to a point in my life, if I will ever be, where I can support myself. To continue with my current standard of living, it’s evident that I will need health insurance.

If Dr. S drops me, I have this fear, although it may be unrational, that would place the health insurance in jeopardy. That means that, should the cancer come back, I get into a car wreck, or if anything happens, I’m toast. Or, even worse, become a further financial strain on the family and Jason.

That I could not live with.

So, I place a priority on keeping up with check-ups and, to a much lesser degree, following doctor advice. Dr. S presented a clear danger to my line of thinking and I took action.

Hence, Mimi.

I was unprepared for it.
Most psychologist meetings, outside of the intense ones at the House, take about 20 minutes. Even the ones that are introductory are no longer than an hour. The therapist tends to provide some, but not a lot, of information about herself and focuses on getting a feel of what the patient – me – is going through in the best effort to direct some form of care and approach.

This did not happen.
Rather, Mimi’s meeting took three hours. This was three hours of fairly intense scrutiny in which most things I said where disregarded, my loved ones where repeatedly attacked, and I was diagnosed.

The verdict was extreme depression followed closely by anxiety. I have a touch of OCD to add frosting. This was brought about by abandonment throughout my entire life which broke trust with the people around me. To heal, I need to ditch the family, Jason, and my current situation. I need a new job (that part I couldn’t argue with) and need to stay on medication. Presumably forever.

In essence, I felt like she wanted me to embrace the whole ‘own nothing and be happy about it’ ideology along with regulating myself to the people she probably sees all the time — homeless, unloved, and abandoned.

I am none of these things.

But she got into my head a little.

I look at it this way. I respect the profession although I may not respect the person.
I respect the position of police officer although I personally think most cops have a god complex.
I respect those in the mental health, medical, and other fields, although the people who go into them can be deeply flawed.

Out of the respect to the profession, I will answer therapists, officers, and doctors honestly.

So, when Mimi was asking questions, I answered honestly and, in this situation, maybe I shouldn’t have because what I said was soundly weaponized.

It made me feel like I am a victim. I shouldn’t be held accountable or hold myself accountable for my actions.
The people around me are flawed to such a point that I had little choice to become what I am. My life was and is still full of neglect and, to a lesser degree, abuse.

And that really tore me up inside.

Any type of defense and support I expressed for those who care … like how Jason has never cheated and I always had visitors at the House … didn’t matter. Rather, I was just a tool for others. I allowed them to feel good about themselves. They aren’t there for me but simply to fit into their own views of what they should be and what they become.

They’re not here for me but to further their own agenda and shape what they think they should be.

Mimi says that I realize that on a deep level which feeds into anxiety and compounds the trust issues.

The anorexia is simply a way to exert control where I feel that I have none.
(This part I actually agree with. Mostly.)

So… yeah…

It’s now Nov 3.
This took place a couple of days ago and, I guess, the only saving grace is that Mimi said she couldn’t treat me herself. I’m outside her scope. I’m waiting on a referral and soooo excited about what this form of so-called recovery will look like.

Yay.
Go Team Venture.