Okay, so I have to go to this appointment with a doctor in an hour-and-a-half to get a form signed that says I am basically too psychologically incapacitated to do much else other than make it to my doctor appointment, and these kinds of appointments freak me out.
I have to go in and sit in the waiting room at the mediclinic for an hour while pretending to read a magazine that smells like cheap perfume samples just so that I don't have to look back at all the weird people who hang out in places like that. Last time, there was this guy I know in the waiting room, and while I was trying to avoid his eye, because I can be weird like that, I noticed that he was avoiding my eye, too, which pissed me off, because the ego has a way of getting irrationally out of hand. I ended up spending half an hour surreptitiously trying to catch his attention, because being ignored was driving me crazy.
Then, when I was taken back to see the doctor, he just kept looking at me and asking me what I wanted to do, and I kept saying I DON'T KNOW, because why the hell else did he think I was in there looking for more help for my screwed up brain? It wasn't because I was perfectly aware of what was wrong with me and had a wellness plan all figured out for myself. Also, as I mentioned yesterday, he proceeded to tell me after that that my depression was probably irritating my spouse, as though that should be my reason for seeking help and not the fact that I hallucinate sometimes, among other things. What a turd.
I really don't know what I want to accomplish with this stream of consciousness except express my bad attitude about going in to see that doctor again and try to come up with something other than I DON'T KNOW. He's just a regular doctor, not a psychiatrist, who is filling out forms for me and monitoring my medication until I can get in to see the actual psychiatrist to which he referred me, so he's not really trained to deal with weepy messes who only say I DON'T KNOW. I would make a sucktastic robot.
Now I have to go and take a shower so that I don't end up overpowering the cheap perfume samples in the waiting room magazines. I'm sure that's one of the other patient's jobs there.