Ever since Cali, I tend to be ridiculously paranoid about check-ups. Sometime this week will have to be Doctor Day. What that essentially means, is that I’ll use the excuse that I need to see my psychiatrist for the sake of a new prescription (which I do), and take advantage of the fact that I’ll be out, and in the general area, to just do the rounds by myself, with no meddling grown-ups to make things unpleasant.

Going to the doctor is always this uncomfortable experience, not because I hold anything against doctors (though I am rather picky and skeptical about them, unless they have the proper rapport, which is rare), but because someone always goes with me.

And I hate it. Unless I personally go out of my way to ask someone to go with me (in which case, it’d be Kenz), odds are, I don’t want anyone joining in.

Usually my mother will accompany me against my will. And of course, that makes me insanely uncomfortable, because whenever I want to address personal matters freely, I can’t very well do it, since she’s there, and she doesn’t think I can handle going to the doctor alone… even though I’ve done it, and somehow survived through it, for the past five years, or whatever.

Either that, or I have to talk in code, or hypothetical manners ‘out of curiosity’, or just make random excuses to address my concerns.

Being open about my interests in sex therapy somehow make all my bizarre comments and topics of conversation in vanilla settings perfectly acceptable.

Still, it’s ridiculously unpleasant.

With these relatives, and their charming view on the needlessness of doctors, when all their life experience combined is more than enough to fit the conservative, vanilla needs of this family, I have to be very careful about how I approach my checkups.

Which, as with everything else, it just means deliberately lying.

Somehow going to the psychiatrist for a prescription is completely acceptable, but going to a checkup or a consult gets me scolded.

Either way, I need to go for a check-up, so I’ll have to use the psychiatrist as an excuse.

I don’t really go for sessions anymore, just the prescription. I’ve been pretty damn stable for a while (amusingly enough, ever since I cut with all toxic attachments) , so the 80 bucks I would pay for the 1hr session, I just pay just to get the little paper with the signature. Nowadays, I use the 1hr session not to discuss bipolarity, so much as just general psychology stuff and the tools of the trade. How to deal with patients, and the like how to detach, etc.

I still remember when I freaked out on the poor man, because I thought I was a psychopath.

My sessions with him are just so amusing, because they’re so bizarre and on leveled ground. He’s always so amused by my use of technical jargon. I’m sure he must love having a patient who digs deep and psychoanalyzes every little thing, rather than go every 6-8 weeks and say ‘I have no idea what is wrong with me, fix me.’

I pretty much go to just be put in my place.

And the best part is that he’s surprisingly open minded, so it’s not uncomfortable to discuss anything.

With all the stuff I’ve been figuring out, I’m sure this session will be…just very strange. It’ll be interesting, regardless. It always ends up being. And we always somehow relate it to The Big Bang Theory, which makes it kind of awesome.