And I mean down

***THIS POST IS A POSSIBLE TRIGGER? i don’t even know anymore***

Apparently I am just a horrible person, and that’s all there is to it.

I just had a pep talk from my husband which basically summed up to: suck it up. Basically, I think too much.

1) Apparently I’m too self-aware to have the mental illness I think I have. And he was a psychology major, so he would know more than me, right?

2) Bipolar: He doesn’t know if I really am Bipolar. He thinks maybe I just have a large range of emotions and that my emotions are extreme. He doesn’t know if the Seroquel even really controls mania. But it does help me sleep. And maybe I do have chemical depression. But the only one who can make me happy is me.

3) Borderline: Well, that’s a hot mess I don’t even want to talk about.

4) ADD: This is the one disorder he thinks I legitimately have.

5) Cutting: He has known (or read, can’t quite remember how he put it) of people who cut themselves from depression as a release, and it doesn’t necessary have a connection to Borderline Personality Disorder.

So, apparently–just as I feared–I’m just a horrible person. Someone who over-exaggerates what everybody goes through. And if I’m over-exaggerating obviously it’s for attention? Which means I’m conceited. Which means I’m a bad person. Which means everything bad ever said about me is true. Lazy. Stupid. Over-emotional. Weird. Spastic. Conceited. Attention-whore.

So let’s try something new. Let’s just wipe all the diagnoses away. What does that look like?

Well, the lexapro has to stay. I know for a fact that I’m depressed–been dealing with it for years. So that at least is a legit medicine.

Seroquel. If all it’s doing is helping me sleep, I can replace it with Nyquil. Let’s see if the episodes I’ve had before were truly hypomanic or just lack of sleep.

Only see the psychiatrist for medicine refills. Check. Already doing that (can’t afford more).

ADD: Question any results I get next week. I seriously doubt the validity of the test I took. And if I’ve been fine for years without meds, why take them now. Besides, that’s one less expense.

Therapy is a luxury no longer appropriate. Check. Haven’t seen my therapist since November/December anyway. Was trying to look for a new one. Scrap that attempt. Strong people don’t see therapists. I’m not strong enough. I need to be stronger. Therefore, I need to not go to therapy.

Don’t worry about NAMI. Not like they were really doing much to try to help anyway.

Stop talking about my problems to people. I have it way better than other people and I need to stop complaining.

At this point I’m going to be completely hypocritical and tell people that I do not recommend these action steps to anyone. Especially never change your medication without speaking with your doctor. Yes I’m being a hypocritical bitch. Besides, I see Dr. A-Hole next week anyway.

So, operation fix Ari begins.

I also got to figure out this eating thing. I just have not wanted to eat. Eating makes me feel sick. Thinking about eating makes me feel sick. Today I had a bowl of cereal, a little bit of popcorn, 3 donuts, some apple slices, and a milkshake. Yeah, don’t ask about the donuts. I have a weak spot. And I feel like a horrible person for eating 3 donuts in one day. Perhaps I should take a multivitamin since I can’t seem to eat.

Yeah, this plan of action is probably completely wrong. But I’m used to being wrong. And I figure two things can happen. 1, nothing will happen and therefore prove that I am just an over-dramatic asshole. Or I’ll completely lose my mind and therefore prove the opposite.

Either way I get an answer. And  maybe I’ll figure out who the fuck I am.

So what do you think? Am I legit or am I the ultimate poser?

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