By Peggikaye Eagler
Cassandra starred at the cup, she would keep it there, in her window sill, a reminder that one day she would find the beautiful place she longed to be. Her parents’ conversation in the next room could be heard through the vents. They weren’t even trying to talk in hushed tones, so as not to be overheard. Her face burned in embarrassment. Her heart sunk in despair. Once again, her father was finding fault, and her mother was failing to rise to her defense. Would she ever be able to meet expectations?
That's how my story starts ... I have found the subplot easier to write than the plot itself. I think, because my main character has an eating disorder, it probably makes it a little more personal. Difficult even.
Speaking of which. My therapist comes back Tuesday. YEAH!! It's been a long 6 weeks that she has been out. I'm just glad she's back. She did not think she'd eve be out a full month. She said 4 weeks at the outset. I'm personally, surprised that it's only 6 weeks. Major surgery, not exactly young, and rheumatoid arthritis ... not exactly easy to bounce back. Regardless of how tough you consider yourself.
Good timing, I've decided that I need to discuss my new psychiatrist with her. I thought I liked her. My last visit, left me, eh ...unnerved.
She made a comment that had me a bit alarmed at the time, and the more I thought about it, the more alarmed I became as I realized ... SHE THINKS I'M LAZY!!!!!
Her exact words were
"Even with a chronic illness, you have to have a regular schedule, you can't just lie around all day. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"
My answer? NO
They're all trying to get me to LAY DOWN AND TAKE IT EASY!!!!!!!!!!!!
The farther out I get, the more miffed I get.
There were a few other comments that left me a bit ...um ... uncomfortable. A hint that I might be abusing my pain relief medications and sleep aids ...
yeah, ok ..whatever. I get a script for anxiety.
My former psych spent 3 years trying to talk me into accepting a script for it. He finally convinced me in February. The agreement, was with my nighmares and panic attacks and the severity of my eating disorder, I'd take them regularly, until otherwise noted. When Don went into the hospital, I kind of complied. Sort of. Kind of. Not really.
I have a monthly supply, I've had a total of 3 scripts filled (including, the first one) since he first prescribed them. 1 and 2 refills. Yet, I'm supposed to be taking them regularly. That's 9 months ... and 3 fills. Yep, I'm abusing them.
My pain medicines ... I have a monthly supply of those as well. I have filled those 3 times this calendar year ...
yep ... I'm so over doing those.
The reality is I take FAR less than prescribed and what I'm what is Rx'd on a regular basis, I'm taking on an as needed when I just can't take it anymore basis. Am I afraid of addiction ... YOU BETCHA!
Am I abusing my medications, I don't hardly think so. Unless you consider not using them when I should, abuse.
Maybe allowing pain when I have the means to not be in pain is abuse?