New Life

If you've been reading for any amount of time, you know that I take medication for my crazy head. And you probably also know that for the first time in seven years, my psychiatrist suggested that it might be time to start tapering off said drugs because and I quote, "You haven't had any major breaks with reality in the last two years...." Ooohhhh. Thank you. That's a vote of confidence right there. Now don't get me wrong. I love this man. He kept me alive when all I wanted to do was die. When I went to see him while I was in treatment and told him I thought maybe most of it had to do with the drinking and then the lying about the drinking, he got this mischevious grin on his face, opened up my file and started slinging his pen around. Almost giddy.

"Well, you don't get any more of THIS. (crossing things off) And hey, I bet you don't meet the criteria for THIS diagnosis anymore! Oh, and no more of THIS sleeping pill or THAT anxiety drug....."

I'm sitting there half crying, half trying not to laugh and I say to him, "If you knew I was an alcoholic all along, how come you didn't say anything?"

"If I would have told you, would you have done anything about it? Very unlikely. It was my job to keep you alive until you figured it out on your own. You forget I've been doing this for thirty years."

So, this man of thirty years' experience tells me that it's time. And I agree, finally, to let this man conduct the symphony that is my mental health. No more arguing about drugs and diagnoses and hospitalizations and recommendations. I just let him have the reigns. And because I agreed with that, I am now taking something new for my stupid head. And it scares me. It's still a step in the right direction; he saw the fear outlined in my furrowed brow and he stepped in to reassure. I don't have to like it, I just have to follow his lead. So once again my friends, if I'm going crazy, you're coming down with me!