Work Jerks, Shrinks and Iffy Psychotherapy

One of Dr C‘s minions phoned yesterday to report that an appointment has been made for me this Friday at 9.30am.

Aside from being frightened of nasty Dr C and the possibility of yet another panel interview-esque meeting with her and Dr N, I am kind of angry.  I was referred to a psychiatrist in January and didn’t finally see one until the end of May, and of course regular readers will remember that they fucked up my entire referral until C got involved.  Why, then, do they think it’s reasonable for them to click their fingers and expect me to come running?

Meh.  I suppose I ought to be grateful that they are seeing me again relatively soon after the last appointment.  C stated to me last week that he thought that Dr C was going to experiment with new medications for me, so hopefully that will come on Friday.  The thing is, due to the set-up of the first meeting with Dr C and Dr N, I didn’t get to talk to either of them in the detail I’d have liked.  In fact, after 14 weeks of psychotherapy, I haven’t even discussed everything I’d like to have done with C.

Given that circumstance, I am not sure how Dr C can accurately diagnose my condition on Friday and as such I am not sure how she can adequately prescribe appropriate medication.  Perhaps she just wants to talk to me in more detail about my symptoms?  Or maybe she feels her conversation with C has been adequate.  I don’t know; I’ll try not to pre-empt it I suppose.  Regardless of the fact I don’t like the woman, she is the consultant psychiatrist and for now I’ll try and assume that as such she knows what she’s doing.  Like it’s that simple.

And of course this is Wednesday evening, meaning that it is C tomorrow morning.  I forgot to mention last week that at one point I broke down in tears in front of him as I thought I had offended him (it was paranoia – logically speaking I very much doubt I did offend him, but hey, logic loves to fail me).  I thought I’d offended him because of something very minor., so minor that I don’t even remember what it was  Now I have to go in tomorrow and tell him what a complete pile of bovine manure I believe this DBT nonsense to be.  It’s not completely invalid I guess, but most of it is.  My worry is that when he first introduced me to it, C was so enthusiastic about it.  I’m concerned about raining on his parade.  He is, after all, only trying to help.

Am I just a cynical wankstain who needs to get over herself?  I want to want to give this a try, but just reading the stuff makes me angry.  I want to go to Marsha Linehan‘s house and firebomb it (Disclaimer to the thought police / government: this is deliberate hyperbole again.  I am not actually desirious of firebombing Linehan’s house; if nothing else there is the logistical problem that she is based in, I think, Seattle and I am in Northern Ireland).

Seriously, I have no idea what to say to C.  I am paranoid about upsetting him and having him abandon me.  Then there is the issue of his leave in July – I wouldn’t possibly be panicking already about that, now would I?  Oh wait, affirmative to that, I am.  I am fucking shitting myself.

What has become of me?  Why am I so intensely reliant on one individual that I don’t even really know?  How have I become a dolescum and how have I let my mind atrophy for the best part of a year by sitting about the house all day wallowing in my self-indulgent and pointless despair?

Speaking of dolescum status, today I have written to the office of much evil and malevolence asking for a copy of my contract of employment.  I revisited the CAB last week after my success in my application for DLA and lamented the fact that I was probably about to be fired.  Now, I have two very close contacts that are intimately familiar with employment law (one writes the laws in question themselves, another writes about them), and it is agreed that eventually evil work will probably be well within their rights to dismiss me.  The woman at the CAB, however, stated that in “some” cases unless they have a clause about dismissal on the grounds of absence written into the contract, they cannot dismiss you.

I have therefore written to nice personnel woman, not Horse, to ask for said contract.  Of course, like everything in my life, this is not as simple as it sounds.  I was initially employed on a part-time basis in what is now my assistant’s role.  I signed a contract for this.  When I was successful in my application to the current position, I did not receive a new contract.  There is not likely to have been a great deal of differences in the two, I suppose, and in any case I am advised that a contract for the more recent job would have been implicit between the organisation and me given that I was, for some time, undertaking the duties of the post and that they were letting me.  Nevertheless, I do wonder if this leaves room for a loophole?

Anyhow, I’ve written to nice personnel woman asking for the document and being overly sweet and friendly to her.  The reason for my uncharacteristic charm is twofold: one, she is a genuinely lovely woman and deserves people to be nice to her and two, I am fairly certain the letter will be passed to Horsey anyway, who will notice the significant disparity between how I communicate with her and how I communicate with the nice woman.  I want her to know, without my being unprofessional, or overtly nasty, that I dislike her.  Is that really bitchy?  Well, of course I already know the answer – of course it is.  But that’s kind of the point 😉

After the Horse asking me to get straight back to her regarding the occupational health report, I note with interest that she is not getting straight back to me.  I made subtle (but obviously achingly polite) reference to this in the letter to nice woman.

A is of the view that I probably will lose my job and that thereafter I should remain off work for about a year.  He thinks that I should wait not just until I have made an adequate recovery from my current episode, but right until I am capable of completely coping with everything life throws at me.  The rationale is sound, but the problem is that, even with psychotherapy and medication, I am not sure his dream of me being able to completely cope with life will ever be entirely realised.

On another note, thank you all for the many responses to Monday’s post.  In two days it has become one of the most popular on this blog.  Perhaps I should be a full-time psycho-philosopher?  Is there a career ladder in that?!

Back tomorrow with C post-mortem.  I will force myself to do it tomorrow not next week this time!
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