1-29-2001 |

My new psychologist seems okay. She's a normal person, not a prissy snob like my last therapist. So that's cool. After an hour speaking with me she (new therapist) hands me a book entitled, "Imbroglio" - which is all about dealing with Borderline Personality Disorder. "I want you to get this book..." She believes I've been misdiagnosed, that I in fact am afflicted with Borderline Personality Disorder - not Bipolar II. I balked at first. When I arrived home from my session I did a little research on BPD, using my trusty Psychology college books. The book she wants me to buy costs $25.00 and is not available in paperback. And I am officially broke until Friday. Anyway, reading through the symptoms of Borderline Personality Border had me relating like crazy. And pissed off. And crying. The lady was right. No wonder the Lithium never helped. New therapist's approach will be Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which I know much about from school. Medications? Well, I'm staying on the Zoloft for now...of wait I haven't taken it in weeks. Well....she thinks I'm on it. I have to set an appointment with my doctor for medication management. Mmmm...Valium please? And I have another therapy session Thursday evening.

But there's something pissing me off even more at the moment. My Step-Dad is taking Shiny Kitten-Cat to the vet tomorrow morning, to be declawed. And as much as everyone else in the house has fought it he won't budge. Because, "I just spent thousands on new furniture and I won't have the cat ruining it. Declawed or thrown out of the house, and that's final." It's so cruel though. And I know the kitten is not really mine, but I am the one that takes care of him. My Mom bought this little kitten home hoping for a pet of her own. But the kitten avoids her like the plague. So now she dumps him on me. And at first I resisted. But how can you not love that little guy. So the kitten will be gone until Friday. Evil Step-Dad forced me to have Dutch-Cat declawed when I first moved back home as well. And it was so sad, but I couldn't take Dutch back to the humane society. And seeing him suffer when he got home was horrible. Because they don't give pain meds to cats. Imagine if I ripped your fingernails out and provided no pain relief. Can't write more about this.

I'm shaking like crazy. The heat is set at 72 degrees and I'm still cold. I cannot stop trembling. Reminds me of detoxing...but without the drugs and stuff. Because I still haven't drank or taken any pills. But if the MD offers me some I'm all for it.

I had this crazy dream the other night:
I arrived home to find about 20 people crowded in the dining room. My Mom began to serve dinner. I just watched. She ran out of food. Then she began to serve the guests canned cat food -"Fancy Feast" brand. I started freaking out. "Ewwww. Stop! How can you eat that?" My Uncle turned around and said, "Hey, your Aunt eats this stuff all the time. Don't make fun of her..." And my Aunt turned around and gave me the evil eye.

I blamed the dream on the fever I'd had all day and night. My siblings cracked up when I told them about the dream.

Why am I shaking like this? Maybe a fever again. My muscles actually hurt from trembling so much.

Shiny Kitten-Cat is lying on my bed. I must go spend some time with him before the Evil Man takes him away tomorrow.