Last week, I had an appointment with my psychiatrist. I've posted about him before. Wanda and I call him Dr. Bobblehead. He's a dear man, and a great psychiatrist. I would dare say, one of the best. However, he has this annoying ability (ok, so it's what makes him good at his job) of being able to read me like a book.
So, he walked into the waiting room from the outside, GLANCED at me ... 1/3 of a second ... couldn't have been more and I knew he knew something was wrong. WHAT THE?!?!?!?#?@#@#adfljkrjwrjoweiouisojwlermwailucovhclnvihweroho;nrmwlaehjoihjc ... ok, swearing over.
This isn't the first time he's known in a heart beat that I wasn't ok. It probably, won't be the last. Especially if history of past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior. (growl)
However, I'd walked in determined that I was not going to let him in on the weekend's pain. The fact that he was already keyed in ... just annoyed me more.
So, he can't get me to open up. Flashbacks for him, I'm sure. It took him 2 years to get me to uncross my arms! It probably took him 4 months to get a smile out of me. We were 4 or 5 minutes into the session and I still hadn't said anything about what was happening in my life. I know now, it had to be frustrating for him. He could see it written all over me ...and ... there had to be a reason for the walls I'd suddenly thrown up so high. He knows me too well.
So, rather than let the time go ... he knows that I'm feeling pressure, too much pressure over the success of my book. He comments over my nice new clothes and says that he hopes that I am not feeling pressure to dress up for appointments or that I feel like he's putting expectations on me to look professional.
I immediately tell him that no ...the clothes are not new (they weren't the sweater was 20 years old, jeans and shoes came from Salvation army, purse from a garage sale.) He tells me that they are all well cared for.
I ... became very insulted. I didn't tell him right away ...
So, I start to tell him about Benjamin going back to public school to get the attention off my appearance. But I was LIVID that he'd called attention to my appearance.
I also, as my therapist said today ... was pretty mad that I didn't win the Oscar for my performance that everything in my life was AOK ... because he read me immediately.
So, we get through half the appointment ...finally .. and food comes up. My insulin resistance is brought up. How I'm eating ...and the fact that my A1C is 3.7. He slowly turns around and looks at me.
An A1C of 3.7 is low for anyone ...but for someone with insulin resistance?? It's not likely ...unless ... "you've been fasting, a lot"
yea, well ... it's a stress releaser ...remember? Got a nice little lecture on the body feeding on itself and muscle tissue ...including the heart. yada yada yada ... blah ...
He asked me to please, stop, rest, he's not asking me to be perfect, just stop being self destructive.
You know, if he wasn't so dadgum gentle when he said these things ....
So I got home, and I emailed him ... I told him that I was upset with him complimenting me ... that I didn't feel I'd dressed up ... that I'd worn that sweater because it was wear red for heart disease friday ..and I never come in dressed sloucy and I can't win ... and expectations of me ...and ... and ... and ... basically ... I picked a fight with him.
After emailing back and forth several times. Lots of tears, He being the gentle soul that he is, apologizing immediately, saying we'd touched on a tender area and he was so sorry. It needs to be explored ...
I quickly went into my logical side and wanted to say ..all is forgiven ...let's forget about it ... he, being he ...said oh no, we don't need closure this quickly. If we do, we might miss something important. We've touched on a nerve, and something tender, this needs to be explored.
All this ... because I didn't want him to notice ... the fact that I didn't want the attention ...got me more attention ... great! growl