It's Weird

It's Weird

In theory, finally being able to have insurance that covers psychiatric and mental health care (#thanksobama!) should be more of a relief. I mean, was finally able (and aware that I needed to) go see somebody about what was shaping up to be worse than depression.

You'd think knowing the truth would be better.

It kind of is, I suppose. In a way.

Two months from now, I'll have a full psychiatric evaluation. But my intake pre-diagnosis is PTSD and unspecified bipolar disorder. Probably Type II, but that's what the evaluation will be for.

I talked and talked, answered questions, shook and shriveled and relived, and in the end, I got what I went for: a diagnosis. That it wasn't me making it up. That it was as bad inside my head as I felt.

That I had a clear path to help.

Mostly, though? I feel like winter is coming, that I know nothing, and I'm just waiting for invite to the Red Wedding.

I hope it all settles soon. I'm tired.

And I'm tired of being tired.