Again, I haven’t written anything all week.

I wasn’t as busy this week – I don’t know what stopped me from writing, really.

I’m still trying to quit smoking.

I had an appointment with an addiction counselor this week, on Thursday afternoon.

It was through the same clinic where I see my psych NP.

She said before we could do too much, I have to get a diagnosis through my psych NP of some sort of addiction remission type thing.

I have to have it officially on my chart.

And I see Alex on Tuesday of next week, so I’ll ask him to add that at that appointment.

I told her I don’t do NA meetings anymore, and haven’t for quite some time.

They’re too black and white, and too cliquy.

It’s not like I’m using or anything, but I’m all about harm reduction, and not not about abstinence. 

Abstinence is just not realistic for every single person to fall into the category of being able to fully abstain at all times, for the rest of their life.

Besides, it’s a self-shaming program.

You’re the fucking problem.

You’re never going to get better and can’t ever touch alcohol, or anything else, because you’ll die and be eternally hooked the second you do.

Which is just not real.

You can have a couple of drinks one night after a few years of not drinking, and then go another few years, if not forever, of not drinking.

I’m living proof of that.

You don’t have to go to meetings to stay clean.

Again, I, and plenty others, are living proof of that.

And you’ve gotta call yourself a fucking addict every single time you talk, proclaiming it to the room over and over and over again, owning it, bearing the label, carrying the baggage of your past, as if it were a badge of shame at every single meeting.

You have to give yourself up to a “Higher Power” – it’s mandatory to do the steps, otherwise you’re not “working the program”, I was told this time and time again – to just think of the tables as your “Higher Power”, they’re something greater than you.. And I’d always just say “okay”, even though I thought all of this “Higher Power” shit was total bullshit. I don’t need to believe in something “greater than myself” to remain clean from my drug addictions. What I needed was fucking therapy, and my MAT treatment.

Anyway, that’s my rant about NA.

My addiction counselor said she had been to some meetings of this other program named Smart Recovery.

It’s science based, she said, and no religion, so that’s intriguing.

Apparently there’s a lot of online meetings, so I’ll haveta check that out sometime.

Other than that, I just kinda talked about random things.

I told her about how I’m uncomfortable at my therapist’s office right now because of that guy that I told y’all about last week.

(I talked to Hannah about that too. She’s gonna talk to Susan about it – the gal who runs the art room and runs the groups. So hopefully that’ll be resolved soon)

The fawner in me feels bad about the whole fucking situation.

I feel like I’m doing something wrong by feeling uncomfortable and unsafe around him now.

Even though he was the one who called me four times in just as many hours and was going to corner me outside, alone, again, after eight weeks of no contact, and cornered me outside in the first fucking place to get my number.

And I still feel bad about it all.

I still feel like I’m at fault for the whole shituation.

Even though he initiated the entire thing.

I still feel like it’s my fault and there’s something I could be doing to make the situation better or more comfortable for him, not me.

I just feel like I should’ve just sucked it up, and shouldn’t have said anything to anyone, and should’ve just been uncomfortable around him, and continued to ignore and avoid him when he was around.

That I should’ve kept it to myself.

That I’m doing something wrong by standing up for my uncomfortableness.

That I’m in the wrong because I don’t want him to touch me anymore, or hug me anymore.

I went through my phone and found the voicemail he left and blocked his number.

My neighbor suggested I do that, and it was a great idea.

So I did.

I was terrified that it was accidentally going to call him when I pressed the little circle with the lower case i in it.

But thankfully, it didn’t.

Hannah had said that he’s had to be talked to in the past regarding similar things to this.

So that did make me feel a little bit better about this.

Made me feel a little bit less guilty.

I’ve been listening to this audiobook on fawning, and it’s really resonating, and this whole situation just came about because of my fucking fawning.

He was outside when I went to leave that day, when he asked me if I would go tubing with him.

I have been working on my boundaries, but I still have trouble saying “no” and maintaining boundaries with people, especially when surprised, or caught off guard – when I have no time to prep my responses.

So I fucking said “maybe”.

I left the fucking door cracked open.

Which, looking back, to him, was probably a “yes” in disguise.

But to me, my “maybe” for sure meant “no”.

And if I’m being honest, I really did not want to give him my number.

But I did.

Because I felt like I had to, to appease him.

Because I felt like, if I didn’t, I was a bad person.

Because I felt like, if I didn’t, I was going to upset him.

Because I felt like, if I didn’t, I was going to start drama.

Because I felt like, if I didn’t, I was going to be hated by everyone, not just him.

So, I gave him my fucking phone number.

And I didn’t save his number on purpose.

I didn’t want it.

That’s the truth.

All of this happened – this whole shituation is going on because I’m a fucking fawner.

I mean, that’s a fawner sentence too, really.

Half of this is going on because I’m a fawner – how about that…

The other half is because I was cornered by him.

So I’m assuming he doesn’t get paid shit there, and that’s why he took another basically full time job.

But I should’ve said “no”.

But I just don’t know how to sometimes – most of the time.

I’ve gotta talk about that next in therapy, and really start to work on that.

Because this book I’m listening to is bringing up a lot of behaviors that I don’t like in myself.

I people please because I don’t want to upset other people.

I want to keep the peace of the room.

The last thing I want to do is upset anyone, so I put myself out, and make myself uncomfortable instead, every single time.

I’d much rather suffer myself than make anyone else suffer.

And I’m not talking like suffer, suffer, like starving, burning, being shot suffer… I’m talking even the simplest form of being put out suffer, like being told “no” to plans suffer.

It’s stupid.

I have a problem.

I’ve always tried to keep the peace.

It’s in my nature.

I don’t like taking sides – unless it’s political, but that’s a totally different story.

But I’m finding that these are behaviors that I don’t like in myself.

And I constantly apologize for things, even when I know there’s nothing for me to be sorry for.

I say “sorry” like it’s my job.

That’s another fawner trait.

And even with this whole shituation with this guy at my therapist’s office – it’s like I almost feel responsible or something for his emotions and his responses to the whole thing.

Like I couldn’t care less about how I feel in this, I care more about how he feels, even though I’m the one creeped out, I’m the one uncomfortable, I’m the one feeling cornered…

It’s still hard for me to put his feelings aside, and care about my own more.

Because in the moment, I couldn’t see my own wants or needs.

I could only see his.

I could only see the fact that if I didn’t at least say “maybe”, and give him my phone number, he would be hurt in some way.

I couldn’t see that giving him my number, may, in the future, be an uncomfortable situation for me.

I could only see that he wanted it, and I had to give it to him to make him happy.

Fuck what I felt.

Literally, fuck what I felt.

It didn’t matter how I felt because that’s not how my mind works.

My mind saw someone who wanted something personal from me, so I had to give it to them – even though it made me uncomfortable, because if I didn’t, it could very well hurt them.

There are so many levels to this shit.

There are so many parts to this interaction…

Another part is he’s a man.

98% of my relationships with men have been with explosive men.

I don’t know how he would react if I didn’t give my phone number to him, we were alone, outside, no one was around.

I know part of me, subconsciously, to stay out of danger, gave it to him for that reason.

I’m a big gal, and I can hold my own, but he’s bigger than me.

I don’t know what he’s capable of when upset or angry – I honestly don’t know him that well.

So, to keep the situation civil, I just gave him my number.

So, there’s that too.

I wouldn’t think he would get angry, but like I said, I don’t really know him that well.

Another part is, tubing is impossible with my chronic physical illness issues, yet I still said “maybe”.

It’s a very physically taxing event, one that I cannot do.

And I know this.

And instead of just saying that, and maybe apologizing for that, even though it doesn’t require an apology, I didn’t say that at all, I just abandoned myself.

And the thing is, he goes to groups, and hears me talk about my pain levels and physical health issues, so he should know all of this anyway, so really, it was extremely invalidating of him to ask me to go tubing, knowing it would be very difficult for me to do in the first place.

So, I should’ve had no problem telling him “no”.

But I had a huge problem with it, and even over-explained my “maybe” answer several times to him.

And I do this type of shit so often, abandoning myself.

I’ve gotta stop.

It’s terrible and I’m only hurting myself, ya know?

I constantly say “yes” when I want to say “no”.

I do it with little things, and I do it with big things.

I think of other people before I think of myself.

It’s like I feel pressured to say yes – even when the person isn’t really even pressuring me to say yes at all.

I just feel pressured to say it because it would please them for me to do whatever it is that they’re asking me to do.

I know where it stems from.

From childhood.

Like most CPTSD symptoms do.

I’m not going to get into that here, I’ll leave that for therapy.

But my CPTSD symptoms compounded throughout life with trauma after trauma that happened.

My life started with medical traumas.

Then things intermingled and mixed with, (in no specific order) religion, weight gain, mental illness, school and grades, drug use, more medical issues, more mental illness, toxic employment, violence, toxic relationships, more medical issues, more mental illness, car accidents, more violence, and much, much more…

The thing with CPTSD is that it’s not one specific trauma like PTSD is.

It’s compounded traumas.

It’s thing after thing after thing after thing.

And fight, flight, and freeze are the most commonly known responses in PTSD or CPTSD.

Fawning is a lesser known response that wasn’t even introduced until 2013.

But it just makes so much sense for so many people, including myself.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I relate a ton to the other responses as well.

Especially flight.

I ghost a lot.

I ignore a lot of important things a lot too.

Like how I’m ignoring my smoking habit right now.

Like how I’m still smoking.

I’m trying to quit, I swear.

I’m thinking about it every single day.

And I’m really hating myself for not being able to do it.

It’s really fucking annoying.

I can’t do it.

I’m failing.

Hard.

And I don’t know what to do about it.

I’m really, really hoping Alex, my psych NP will give me Wellbutrin or something to help me quit.

If he doesn’t, I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do.

I’m afraid it’s going to take me forever to quit if he doesn’t give it to me.

It’s either that or Varenicline (generic Chantix).

I’d prefer Wellbutrin because I’ve heard some real horror stories about Chantix, but my Suboxone doctor told me to not be afraid of it, that people mainly just have abnormal dreams on it, or can’t sleep that well, and that it comes with a “black box warning”, just like my Duloxetine does, and most other psychiatric medications.

My Suboxone doc also said that he thinks there’s “wiggle room” in my current medication regimen to add Wellbutrin.

I really fucking hope Alex feels the same and just wants to see me in person because he can’t remember who I am and wants to talk about it with me.

He can never fucking remember who I am.

I emailed him one time and called him and Andrea, his nurse was talking to him about me, and when I finally got into his office for my appointment and we started talking about what my issues were and what I needed from him, like three fucking weeks later, he looked at me, pointed at his computer and said something like OH! You’re the one who emailed me about this, and you’re the one Andrea was talking about, I didn’t realize that was you.

I just remember awkward laughing, because what else can you really do in that fucking situation besides that?

It’s invalidating, but at the same time, I get it.

He only works at the clinic I go to one day a week.

So, he has another job.

I know he doesn’t get paid enough there, it’s a county or state run clinic (I can’t remember which).

But it bothers me how he’ll never change anything over the phone for me because he never remembers who I am.

And I’m guessing that most of the people he deals with there don’t know themselves as well as I know myself and what I need and do research on for myself.

I mean, I still have pretty much daily hallucinations, but I’ve been in therapy for the past four and a half years solid, every week, and have a really good grasp on what will work for me and what won’t medicine wise.

I am now aware of a lot of my behaviors and will no longer be medically gaslit.

And I do think that he recalls – once he sees me and we start talking a bit, that I am one of his patients that knows what they’re talking about.

It just takes him a minute, which is frustrating for me.

He’s frustrating for me.

He’s the first psych I’ve had in a long time that takes a ton of effort to get my point across to.

That doesn’t like, believe me the first time I say something, so I have to say the same fucking thing over a dozen fucking times in different ways until he grasps it.

While writing this, I decided to check my insurance coverage for psychiatrists. 

They don’t cover much, about two or three offices, most of which are online but one.

And the little known fact about online based psychiatry is that they don’t fuck with schizophrenia.

It’s fucked up.

They won’t touch people like me.

I don’t know why.

They’re scared to or something.

It’s dumb.

But anyway, there’s an office in town that’s supposedly covered, we’ll see if they actually are on Monday when I call, but they work with schizophrenia patients and it looks like they’ll also prescribe my anxiety medication too.

Which is mandatory.

I really don’t want to continue to see Alex anymore.

It’s been four and a half years of this bullshit.

Re-explaining myself over and over and over again, and even then it takes him forever to really take in the symptoms I’m telling him.

And I honestly don’t trust his notes to be right.

I doubt he’s writing down the fact that I have hallucinations, severe anxiety, panic attacks, hardcore memory issues, dissociation issues and paranoia symptoms every time I come in.

He might be, but I don’t trust him.

And I’ve tried to talk to him about how I’m 99.999% sure I’ve never had mania symptoms that were not drug induced, and he’s completely brushed me off every single time I bring it up.

I mean, I’ve never been manic unless I was on a stimulant.

Which, being on a stimulant, it would make sense being “up”, right? 

I mean, of course.

But, I have never, ever had that feeling naturally.

I have never not slept for a day unless I’ve been on something.

And the more I think about it, I think a lot of my anhedonia symptoms are stemming from my negative symptoms, and not from my depression symptoms too.

Because there can be negative and positive symptoms showing up at the same time.

And I’m just now realizing that this happens to me much, much more often than I first realized.

I’m not saying that I don’t have depression symptoms sometimes, because I for sure do, but the Duloxetine has been keeping that in check for a year and a half now.

The emptiness.

How I’m not wanting to socialize, at all.

The difficulty retaining information.

The thought loss.

The fatigue.

My inability to easily follow conversations.

How my eye contact isn’t what it used to be.

How I don’t shower but once or twice a week.

How it’s getting harder and harder to find the motivation to do anything.

And how I spend all my time by myself, with just the dog, Bruce.

So these feelings, or lack of feelings, really, that I keep having, are anhedonia and other negative symptoms, not depression.

And I keep forgetting that, because I dealt with depression for so many years and it’s a more familiar term for me.

I need to express to Alex that I’m having these negative symptoms and have been having them for a few years now.

Well, it’s been way longer than that, but for what I need to tell him, and what’s relevant to my care and my appointment with him, the last few years is best to keep it to.

The difference is important.

It makes a difference with my medication regimen.

I don’t even know if I’m dealing with major mood issues anymore.

I know by adding the Wellbutrin I’m going to have to come down or off of my Duloxetine.

And I’m ready for it.

I’ll give it a shot.

Worst case scenario, I can go right back on it, right?

No harm done.

And I just got off the phone with the new psychiatrists office.

They make in-office and virtual appointments, and I’m in-network with them.

So, I made a virtual appointment for next Thursday, the 10th, in the afternoon.

It’s a little soon after the appointment with Alex, but it’ll be nice to have a re-evaluation done.

We’ll see what they say.

– Keren