Today I had my psychiatric eval so that I could be officially diagnosed with all the mental disorders I already knew I had. I was mostly going to A)confirm any wandering suspicions so I wouldn't feel like I was exaggerating my mental illness, B) figure out the cause of my emotional instability, and C) discover whether I have any disorders I was not aware of.
By the end of the meeting, we had safely concluded that I had depression, excoriation disorder, general anxiety disorder, and some form of math disability. While I (once again) got no answer on the emotional instability, the math disorder was a surprise. I had brought it up because my Spec Ed professor had suggested I look into it, but I hadn't seriously considered I might have one. This suddenly explains why I can't read clocks, figure out time differences or distance in dates, do simple math, or help teach fifth graders math. It also meant that attempting my algebra class without proper accommodations was an awful idea and that I don't need to be quite as embarrassed of failing and having to retake it.
However, now I have to deal with explaining to my professor why I am dropping and whether he can help me, as well as deal with Disability Resource Services (I had planned to do that, but not quite this soon), and all sorts of disability-related errands I had not been expecting. It's a lot of stress to deal with all at once, the anxiety part of me is not dealing with it well. I'll deal, though.
The plan for that is to retake algebra next semester along with all my remaining lib eds and creative writing, and this time have accommodations (I'm thinking allowing me to have a cheat sheet). I'll be graduating a semester late, but I'm trying to remind myself that it won't affect me too much in the long run.
Also, she (the doctor in charge of my eval) gave me recommendations for medicine if I was open to it. The supplement (meant for skin picking and trich) is N Acetyl Cysteine, and the prescription that helps with depression and OCD is Sertaline (Zoloft). I am usually not inclined to try medication until I have exhausted all other options, but if the debacle with math taught me anything, it's that maybe seeking help faster would be good. I try to fix my problems naturally through therapy and other coping mehods, but part of me doubts the derma will be so easy to get rid of. So maybe I'll try one of these medicines.
However, I don't want my parents to have to pay for another expensive prescription, so I think I'm going to wait until I get a job next semester and then start paying for it myself. I don't want to burden them with my crappy mental health any more than I already do. So I'm taking this one. It means I have to wait, but I've been waiting for six years, I can go a few more months. This also gives me more time to see whether or not I can use natural methods.
I wasn't expecting to be very comfortable at the eval, as past evaluations had been rather unpleasant, but the woman in charge of it immediately won my trust. While getting a summary of my life, she asked about my living conditions, and I told her I was living with my father and avoiding my mother's house due to my abusive stepdad. With only mere explanation she immediately, in a stern voice, told me
"you don't go there. Stay with your father and avoid that house. Taking care of yourself is most important. Even if your mother is disappointed, you stay with your dad."
I have told a few people about my abuse, and while all supported me, most seemed incredibly hesitant to take my side, as if they didn't have enough information yet to say whether or not I should desert. One friend even told me repeatedly to tough it out for her. When I mention trauma, and how bad it can be, they nod but shallowly. Beck understands and fully supports me, but I think this was the first time I ever got support so immediately and aggressively. She had known me for a full half hour and was still whole-heartedly on my side. It was really moving.
People tend to not believe the child when abuse happens, saying that parents know best. Especially when it's not physical, abuse call outs are often seen as an over exaggeration or bad reaction to discipline. Often, I am scared I will seem ungrateful or rude to my parents in the eyes of other people, but I shouldn't have to worry about being properly grateful to my abuser.
It made me feel more confident in y decision not to live with mom this summer. I already mentioned it to her, and as I thought, she's horribly upset and insecure about it. And I hate making her feel that way. But I have to take care of myself. She won't understand, but that doesn't matter at this point. It's just something I have to do.
Life is good.
By the end of the meeting, we had safely concluded that I had depression, excoriation disorder, general anxiety disorder, and some form of math disability. While I (once again) got no answer on the emotional instability, the math disorder was a surprise. I had brought it up because my Spec Ed professor had suggested I look into it, but I hadn't seriously considered I might have one. This suddenly explains why I can't read clocks, figure out time differences or distance in dates, do simple math, or help teach fifth graders math. It also meant that attempting my algebra class without proper accommodations was an awful idea and that I don't need to be quite as embarrassed of failing and having to retake it.
However, now I have to deal with explaining to my professor why I am dropping and whether he can help me, as well as deal with Disability Resource Services (I had planned to do that, but not quite this soon), and all sorts of disability-related errands I had not been expecting. It's a lot of stress to deal with all at once, the anxiety part of me is not dealing with it well. I'll deal, though.
The plan for that is to retake algebra next semester along with all my remaining lib eds and creative writing, and this time have accommodations (I'm thinking allowing me to have a cheat sheet). I'll be graduating a semester late, but I'm trying to remind myself that it won't affect me too much in the long run.
Also, she (the doctor in charge of my eval) gave me recommendations for medicine if I was open to it. The supplement (meant for skin picking and trich) is N Acetyl Cysteine, and the prescription that helps with depression and OCD is Sertaline (Zoloft). I am usually not inclined to try medication until I have exhausted all other options, but if the debacle with math taught me anything, it's that maybe seeking help faster would be good. I try to fix my problems naturally through therapy and other coping mehods, but part of me doubts the derma will be so easy to get rid of. So maybe I'll try one of these medicines.
However, I don't want my parents to have to pay for another expensive prescription, so I think I'm going to wait until I get a job next semester and then start paying for it myself. I don't want to burden them with my crappy mental health any more than I already do. So I'm taking this one. It means I have to wait, but I've been waiting for six years, I can go a few more months. This also gives me more time to see whether or not I can use natural methods.
I wasn't expecting to be very comfortable at the eval, as past evaluations had been rather unpleasant, but the woman in charge of it immediately won my trust. While getting a summary of my life, she asked about my living conditions, and I told her I was living with my father and avoiding my mother's house due to my abusive stepdad. With only mere explanation she immediately, in a stern voice, told me
"you don't go there. Stay with your father and avoid that house. Taking care of yourself is most important. Even if your mother is disappointed, you stay with your dad."
I have told a few people about my abuse, and while all supported me, most seemed incredibly hesitant to take my side, as if they didn't have enough information yet to say whether or not I should desert. One friend even told me repeatedly to tough it out for her. When I mention trauma, and how bad it can be, they nod but shallowly. Beck understands and fully supports me, but I think this was the first time I ever got support so immediately and aggressively. She had known me for a full half hour and was still whole-heartedly on my side. It was really moving.
People tend to not believe the child when abuse happens, saying that parents know best. Especially when it's not physical, abuse call outs are often seen as an over exaggeration or bad reaction to discipline. Often, I am scared I will seem ungrateful or rude to my parents in the eyes of other people, but I shouldn't have to worry about being properly grateful to my abuser.
It made me feel more confident in y decision not to live with mom this summer. I already mentioned it to her, and as I thought, she's horribly upset and insecure about it. And I hate making her feel that way. But I have to take care of myself. She won't understand, but that doesn't matter at this point. It's just something I have to do.
Life is good.
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