I woke up today at 5:30am to get ready to go to a pre-made appointment with a State appointed psychiatrist today for a mental assessment for my disability.
I had a cup of coffee, ate a quick bowl of cereal, had a small panic attack, chain smoked 3 cigarettes, and then took a shower.
After getting dressed, my wife and I headed out and (with the help of Google Maps) drove to the office of this unknown psychiatrist that was going to analyze me for g-d knows how long and over g-d knows what. I felt like I was about to be interrogated and was supposed to only say the right things. I have no idea what “the right things” would have been, but those were the things that I was supposed to say.
We get into his office that was housed in what had to be in the oldest building in Fort Worth. My anxiety is already up and some jackass decides it would be hilarious to scare the next person that gets off the elevator with his baby. Luckily, my wife was in front of me because today may have been the day that I actually did punch a baby. Fucking idiot. We find this shrink’s closet of an office and he instructs me to sit in some uncomfortable looking chair after I had already sat down on the very comfortable looking couch. I glare at him and he decided that he would sit in the chair and I would stay where I was at. I was already not liking this.
He had no waiting room, so my wife is out in the hallway. He closes the door and we begin the assessment/psychoanalysis. He asks me the basic cognitive questions (Who’s the president, who was the president before that…etc…) We talked about my conditions and the symptoms I experience. He asked a few other questions, and after about 20 minutes or so, we were done. I had a small breakdown in his office, and a major panic attack on the way home. I hope now that this is it. No more bullshit. This needs to be approved and this whole thing is over and done with.
Oh, and he did confirm that I am bipolar and I have anxiety disorder.