Tuesday, May 30, 2006
 

. . . is going on.

My therapist thinks I should take up swimming. Hmm. Could this be the long-awaited Cure to All My Problems?!?

Right.

Though I wouldn't mind kickboarding a few times a week.

I also saw my psychiatrist today. My dislike is turning into true antipathy. I really need to get on the ball and switch.

I just miss my psychologist and psychiatrist that I had at school A LOT. They were the best team, and I felt like they "got" me.

Plus, they were only a 15-minute walk away, as opposed to an hour drive.

I once told my psychiatrist at school that painkillers were the best antidepressant I'd every been on (this was after the bout with meningitis). He laughed and said that that probably wasn't an orthodox route of treatment. I once-- early on-- jokingly mentioned that to my current psychiatrist. He looked horrified, even after I said I was kidding (well, sort of).

I had a killer marathon migraine yesterday and was still hung over at work today. A guy who pries into my business ("stalking" is another word that comes to mind, especially when he's asking me why I keep X item in the back seat of my car) told me I looked awful. Thanks, buddy. He then told me to stay off drugs. If I were to stay off my drugs, I think we'd all regret it.

This isn't the first time he's offered me drug counseling. Previously, I had run out of Seroquel for few days and was jittering and shaking in a manner that probably did suggest chronic meth use (they don't call me Tweak for nothing). He had a "serious talk" with me about drugs.

So, kids, drugs'r'bad.

Let that be a lesson to us all.

Obviously, I have nothing to say. I'll add that I am a huge fat elephant and say goodnight.

I'm a huge fat elephant.

G'night.

Labels: drugs, fatness, grad school, migraines, pdoc, therapy

Elvisette philosophized at 9:35 PM