Bionic Mamas

you're not losing a vagina, you're gaining a son

3 a.m. Thoughts


Guess who got woken up by a ConEd truck, had/is having a panic attack, and has to teach at eight?  Two thumbs, also.

The truck was extremely loud.  What is that, I asked Sugar.  Some kind of tank, she said.  TANK TANK TANK TANK.  Clarification: she meant “a utility truck with a tank of some kind on it.” Not the “water carriers for the Tsar” kind of tank.  Oh.  How was I to assume that, on a small, residential street?  I mean.  Which is more likely?  

So now I have tea and what I am trying very hard to tell myself is not a heart attack.

I suppose, dear readers, that it gets old, hearing how crazy I am.  It gets old being this crazy, believe me.  I imagine it is frustrating, seeing me just sit here falling to pieces.  For the record, I am trying to get better, I really am.  Having spent the entire summer trying to get a therapist to call me back, I finally have an intake appointment with one on Thursday.  She doesn’t take my insurance or have a doctorate (which I toyed with adding to my requirements) or specialize in CBT, though she does do it.  

You know what she does really well, though?  Answer requests for contact.  I am at a loss to describe as ethical the many people (and clinics!) I’ve encountered this summer whose voice messages and websites promise a response within X days who simply never call or write back at all.  It leaves a person wondering what exactly she did wrong in that message/email/web form.
In the midst a very slow-paced and frustrating* series of emails with the first clinic that did (eventually) write back, a friend recommended her person, whom gmail pointed out was someone who had written a long and kind response back a hundred years ago when I had posted on the neighborhood parent board seeking PPD information for my back pocket, just in case I got it, what with the birth PTSD, the history of mental foibles, the suddenly dead mother.  (Good thing I dodged that bullet! Hollow laugh.) She responded quickly and kindly.  So here’s hoping.

Meanwhile, I have an appointment with my internist tomorrow (today!) for more xanax and some kind of assurance that I don’t have heart disease, actually.  Naturally, the convergence of these two sensible appointments and the always-stressful start of the school year has led my brain to go completely bananas.

*several emails in, punctuated by too much time: “we have clinicians at the following levels/prices.  Tell me your schedule and what leve you are interested in.” Here are several potential days and swaths of time.  I would like level Spendy or Rather Spendy. EPIC PAUSE OF DAYS AND DAYS. “Hi, I work at level Extremely Spendy.  When are you available?”
IN other news, the kids and I went to the zoo yesterday.  It was hot.  So hot the night herons were sitting in the water on their bony little butts, which just looks silly.


9 thoughts on “3 a.m. Thoughts

  1. Your lizard brain is kind of a jerk. I hope the nice therapist straightens it out starting pronto.

  2. I followed my therapist through 5 different locations because I could not face the task of finding someone else. I tried her colleague once, but ran away when I discovered she had NO idea about infertility and wanted childhood stories instead.
    Thursday is a good day, I’m having my appointment on Thursdays as well. Hope she is kind, understanding and very good at her job. And helpful in sorting out insurance.

    I didn’t even know herons could sit on their butts! Should activate my zoo subscription

  3. Bird, you hella SILLY. But I’m glad you’ve got a plan for the hot weather. I would like to sit on my butt in some cool water.

    As for Bionic, so sorry about the unfortunate early wakeup on top of everything else. I so admire you for continuing to try to find help in the face of all this unprofessional behavior. Oh god I hope she’s not awful and doesn’t instantly rub you the wrong way. I also applaud you for getting your heart checked out. Because maybe you do have some crazy thing going on (like Grave’s disease!) and wouldn’t that be both not nice but actually nice because treatable? And if not, well, being able to remind yourself that your heart is not going to literally explode is always nice. So best of luck with this week, brave soul.

  4. Ugh, doctor hunting is awful. I hope your intake an subsequent appointments prove well worth the effort. Internet hugs in abundance.

  5. I also am surprised at how godawful it is to find mental health care. I was looking for a therapist a few months back and literally called every single person on the list from my insurance company without getting a single person to answer the phone. I must have sounded desperate on one of the messages, because I did get a very compassionate call back from a single doctor to say that she wasn’t taking new patients but that she wanted me to get a response. That was the only one–everyone else was apparently fine with me never having any contact at all. Thankfully I managed to find one anyway, who I actually like, which has never happened before. I hope yours works out as well, for the terrible start. Also, that bird is awesome. You gotta do what you gotta do, butt-bird.

  6. I love that bird. Love it.

    I also jumped to the same conclusions re: tank. Perhaps this is a result of having a colonel for a father (now retired).

    I was also going to suggest checking the thyroid if that hasn’t been scratched off already from the list of possibilities. It would be nice to have a treatable option.

    I’m so sorry you’re having such a ridiculous time finding help. It boggles the mind that the people who are most in need of help are made to wade through such endless paperwork, red tape, and unanswered telephones. I hope this therapist is a good fit. I hope it all works out. I want so much for you to feel better.

    Good luck with the teaching. I don’t have anything for the fall and possibly now nothing for the winter as well (enrollments have dried up and the adjunct lecturers are grieving each other in desperation), which is making my heart rather twitchy as well.

  7. Silly, but also smart, which it something to aim for. So maddening that the search has to be a test of endurance when you understand so clearly you need some help just now; this realisation is supposed to be the hard part! Finding the help NOT. Also you’re not crazy, but struggling, as we people do, and you’re also definitely never boring. Thoughts in the wee hours are always fairly dark, aren’t they. I know the feeling.

    I hope the doctor today is Proper and that this is the beginning of your feeling so much better.

  8. I ‘liked’ because you wrote about it and you should continue to do so. And the bird. I liked the bird very much. X

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