I’ve been waiting a very long time to get a psych assessment, which I need for disability, and it’s been many years since I’ve had one. Today was the day, and now, afterwards, I’m sitting here stunned. I didn’t expect it to unravel me so much. I was a triggered, crying mess and it was an ordeal just getting back to the car.
Thank goodness the psychiatrist is a woman. That’s all I can say. It would have f’d me up so much worse if it were a man. She’s good, too. Super clinical, which does freak me out a bit, but also super thorough. I was there for an hour and a half and the assessment is only halfway done, I have to go back next week.
It just….I don’t know. I like to think I’m so strong, but even telling the tiniest anecdote about childhood neglect sent me into tears. Thank goodness Willow was there. The psychiatrist would have preferred to see me alone, but Willow insisted. Thank god, thank god. I feel like something would have happened otherwise.
And it didn’t help that I’m seriously sick with a chest infection, and I’ve had absolutely no voice at all for the last three days. I could barely whisper, which was frustrating while searching for the right words to explain things.
Trying to explain why there’s so much I can’t do…trying to explain why how badly I used to self-harm, and why I did it…
I suspect I’ll end up with a C-PTSD diagnosis. But there is another hard truth here. I talk about healing all the time, and like I said, I try to be so strong. But when someone’s had severe neglect/abuse from the moment they were born, it screws up brain development. And that’s…pretty permanent. As in, I can’t fix it with willpower and positive thinking and confidence.
I guess I’m having some “emotional flashbacks” — yet I know that my life now is really good. Things have been amazing this past year. But I really feel like I’ve come undone, and I didn’t expect it at all.