I am writing you this letter because I want to be sure that I tell you everything next time I see you. Sadly, I must confess that I haven't been quite honest with you these past few months. We meet up and we talk and we joke about our weekends, we share our experiences with living downtown and how our summer weather has been miserable and cold. We sometimes, just sometimes, scratch the surface of a problem I have been holding in... I tell you I know that my brain is playing tricks on me and that I need to relax, and whole heartedly you agree and we move on. You ask me what I want to do with my life and I always respond that I don't know, I just want to be better in all that I do.
As far as the panic attacks go, I have been completely honest with you about that. I haven't had a single one. I told the truth about my focus and motivation being off. I admitted to you that I have a problem with jealousy, my dwindling self esteem and that I am constantly at battle with my heightened feelings. I feel like you have kind of dismissed them and put them into small categories that don't hold any immediate threats or problems. I am here to tell you today, that they in fact, do.
Lately, I have this problem. There are times where I feel betrayed, punished, and at times I am completely morose. I take these feelings and I bury them but sometimes, just sometimes, they manifest into something so awful and they become completely overwhelming. All logic is lost to me, I either completely blank out, cracking my knuckles and go inside myself... or I become hostile, manipulative and rude. I shift blame, I am sarcastic, I mind read, I label... I prepare for total catastrophe.
On Wednesday night, I realized that this problem was much bigger than me. I slept it off and went to work the next day, I did my absolute best to change my way of thinking and to do the very best that I could at my job. I am proud to say, I did it... and on Friday I told the psychiatrist that everything was absolutely fine. I mentioned that there was some irritability and he said it was to be expected with the constant changing of my medication doses. I took an Anger Management workbook and started to work on it from home. I felt better, I felt like I was taking charge.
Saturday, everything was great. I felt awesome. We cleaned, we laughed and things were fine. We went out with friends, I was a little irritated at first but it got better. Later that night, something happened and it quickly changed to a great night to a very horrible night. Harsh words were exchanged and I lost control again.
There is an immense deal of shame and regret. I don't ever want to do this ever again. I feel like I have always felt the need to punish myself. I couldn't fix this... it's my fault. My thoughts are irrational, I should suffer the consequences. I am always battling my mind and today I want to tell you that I am exhausted. I am done and that I know that I can change. I just need you to help me a little bit, maybe a lot, I don't know. All I know is I that I have been sick, for a really long time and lately, honestly, I have done a really good job of maintaining control. I just want to be prepared in the event some night, my world may once again collapse on itself.
I also wanted to stress the importance of A.D.D. therapy. I have always been given the medication but when it comes to actually dealing with my diagnosis, I feel like nobody has ever really tried to help me manage the disorder in itself. I have always just kind of had to figure it out on my own. I would appreciate your suggestions, if you don't mind.
Today, I realized that I owe around $5,000.00 for the services you have tried to provide me with. I want to at least get something out of it, if anything. So as your patient and your customer, I am telling you exactly what I want and what I need from you and I am telling you this with all honesty. I'm ready to tell you everything, my monsters will crawl from the closet. I need you to hold the flashlight while I face them. I need you to give me bullets to shoot them and I need you to give me the shovel when I bury them. My closet is too full and I feel like I've been living under the covers for far too long.
