Michelle's POZ Blog

As you have read in my previous entry, I had a meltdown and checked myself into the hospital. It was a nice vacation away from everyone and everything. I could've stayed another week despite the low sugars but the diabetic diet and my doctor actually catching me smiling while talking with another patient cut my vacation short. That smile was a 180 of me when I first checked in and crying uncontrollably. I know some are probably wondering why I say 180 instead of 360, well, knowing I needed help and checking myself in to get it was half of the battle.

When I got home I felt better than when I had left, no doubt but I felt like my stay in the hospital was like a band-aid over an open wound. And the Celexa was compared to being given an antibiotic to make sure the wound doesn't get infected. The support I received from my fellow forum members was the kiss and being told that everything is going to be alright. I needed that love and support. I will always cherish it for the rest of my days.

Moving right along, on my discharge papers was written that I need to make an appointment with a therapist. I wasn't surprise to see it there written in black and white. While on my vacation, Dan, the hospital therapist, would come daily to remind me of this. Now that I think about it, I wonder why they even gave him the title of therapist; we never did talk about my problems at all. He just knew what was written on my admission papers. What the hell? I got played.

While self medicating on the good green, I got to thinking seriously about getting therapy. Of course, denial reared its ugly head but then my logical side kicked in. Denial whispered to me, "What do you need to go to therapy for? You've been dealing this long on your own. And you know that therapist don't give a rat's ass about what you have to say, it's just a check to them."

Logic glared over at Denial and delivered a swift to the ass, walked back over to me and said, "Girl, you always pride yourself on being real, so let's be real. You know you had a problem, that's why you checked yourself into the hospital. What we don't know is if the Atripla just added to it and last time I checked, your ass wasn't a doctor. And so what if they get paid, they get paid because they are good at what they do. Give it a chance."

Now both Denial and Logic made valid points. I have to admit, I was leaning more towards Denial's side because of an encounter I had with a doctor while in the hospital. I needed some input and I needed it fast. I put the question to my forum family. It was, "How do you do it?" And I asked those that are currently seeking therapy for their advice. I have received some good advice.

After stalling for a few more days, I finally called. I was told by a forum member about a therapist who deals with the hearing impaired. I have to go through intake first but I am trying to get in with her. I found out today that she has no set schedule and she makes her own so they are not sure when I can get in to see her. But they offered to leave my name and number with her. Someone was supposed to call me back to schedule an appointment for intake. I will wait to see if I get a call on Friday. If not, then I will call back on Monday. Stay Tuned.