Notes from the shrink’s office

Last week I had to go to see a new shrink and when I got there they gave me a giant packet to fill out so they could see how crazy I was but I couldn’t concentrate because I kept glancing around the waiting room wondering which of these people was the craziest but then I got back to filling out the form because I thought maybe I was being timed and then I got paranoid that the form was full of trick questions to find out if I needed to be committed and then I got test-taking anxiety and I was all “Fuck.  I have no idea how to answer these questions.”  Like, one question asked if I had access to a gun and so I wrote “Depends.  What do you need it for?” because it made me sound like I was the kind of person who was helpful but not so helpful that I’d hand someone a gun without a few follow-up questions but then I realized that this probably was a trick question so I changed my answer to “I live in Texas“.  Then I tried to get on twitter to get help answering the rest of the questions but I couldn’t get a signal so I walked over to the window because sometimes my phone works better that way and so I held my phone up to the window and then I realized that everyone was looking at me because it looked like I was showing my phone the parking lot.  Awesome.  I just became the craziest person in the shrink’s office.

Then I filled out the rest of the paperwork but I got depressed about writing about how depressed I was and so I drew pictures of smiley kittens in the margin so that the shrink wouldn’t think I was suicidal because suicidal people never draw smiley kitten on anything, probably.  The receptionist gave me a weird look when I handed it back to her and I was all “I take it you’re a dog person?” and she told me to sit down.  Then I had my hour with the shrink except that it was only 40 minutes which I think means I’m only 2/3 as crazy as most of the people she sees, or maybe I just freaked her out and she wanted me to get out of her office so she could talk about me.  She asked me about what I do for a living and I told her that I’m a writer and she asked what I wrote about and I was all “Just about my life.  Sasquatches.  Vaginas.  Morgan Freeman.  Stuff like that.  I’m also a czar but I’m not very good at it” and she nodded passively and she asked if I was under any unusual stress this week and I told her that I had a call that afternoon with some Hollywood people who wanted to talk to me about making my life into a tv show and she paused for a second and then nodded again and I was all “You think I’m delusional, don’t you?” and she was all “Why would you say that?” and then I was all “Oh, I’m not falling for that.”  Then she nodded again and I was all “Fuck.  I’m failing, aren’t I?” and she was all “Do you feel like you’re failing?” and that’s when I realized she was just going to answer all my questions with more questions so I was all ‘two can play at this game‘ and so I said “Why do you ask if I feel like I’m failing?” and then she just stared at me and I was all “BURN!  I WIN, MOTHERFUCKER!” but I didn’t say that part out loud because that would be crazy.  But then she doubled my medication so apparently I hadn’t fooled her at all.  Also, I asked her for some ADD drugs but she said no and that’s why this post is so convoluted.  Because I  live in America and have shitty health-care.  If I lived in Canada this post would probably make more sense and my house would be cleaner.  And I would have carved a couch out of a larger couch.  I don’t actually know how ADD drugs work.

Also, throughout the whole session I had this strong urge to mention that the head shrink at the clinic looks almost exactly like Nosferatu but with better teeth but I didn’t because I thought maybe she’d think I had impulse-control problems but then at the end when she asked if there was anything else I wanted to discuss I started to wonder if maybe I was supposed to mention something about Nosferatu and that maybe it was a test because maybe really crazy people wouldn’t say anything because they were afraid of being pigeon-holed as crazy and so I just sat there in silence while I debated whether or not to ask if her boss was a vampire and then she was all “Okay, I think we’re done here” so I’m pretty sure I failed the vampire test.  This is exactly why people hate going to the doctor.

Comment of the day: I saw a therapist for a while right after my late husband was diagnosed with his terminal illness. But I ended up spending most of the sessions trying to make the therapist feel better because she found my situation so stressful and sad, so I quit going. I really didn’t need the extra work. ~ annie

194 thoughts on “Notes from the shrink’s office

Read comments below or add one.

  1. Have you ever heard that story about the reporters who checked themselves into a mental institution to see what goes on and because they behaved like normal human beings, the shrinks thought they were crazy? Clearly you don’t act like a normal human being which means that you aren’t crazy… You’re eccentric. See? I’m helping… or lulling you into a false sense of sanity and justifying all your actions… oops.
    .-= Rob´s last blog ..Can’t We All Just Get Along? =-.

  2. They always get me on the damned vampire test. I feel a little better knowing that a czar couldn’t pass it either, though.

  3. I’ve often thought that the truly crazy people won’t go to a shrink, so you’re probably a good crazy. And this post actually makes me feel *less* crazy, so thanks for that!


    P.S. I was thinking about you the other day because I still had your Bloggess sticker on my sling from BlogHer. I only removed it because I was lending it to a friend.
    .-= Adventures In Babywearing´s last blog ..freckles or no freckles =-.

  4. whenever i visit my shrink and have to answer fill out “reason for visit” question, i always want to write “the same fucking reason i’ve been here the past eleventy billion times”. but i don’t. considering the definition of insanity, it’s hilarious that they keep asking the same question every time. they pretty much already know the answer. i should be a doctor.

  5. Last night, I sat down to work on one of the stories for my book and I was so all over the place. All over Twitter, checking others blogs, distracted on writing to-do lists that will never get complete and, apparently, too busy changing the channel. By the 6th or 7th channel I flipped to, my boyfriend said to me, “You’re already bored of that show, too? That’s like – what – how many in the last 10 minutes? ADD much?” Um. Yeah.

    It’s getting worse than ever. I’m beginning to consider ADD meds, however, I don’t have health care. And it sucks. Any recommendations are much appreciated.

    I know how you feel.

  6. Uh, yeah, this all seems pretty reasonable to me. And, entre nous, I’m a little concerned about anyone allowing a vampire into med school. Although I guess it’s one way to get your hands on fresh cadavers for cheap.
    .-= That Kind Of Girl´s last blog ..TKOG Who eats competitively =-.

  7. Am sure it wasn’t you’re intention but your blog has inspired me to insist to my doctor that I really do need therapy. Will practise being much madder than I usually am (no-one will actually notice the difference) until granted an appointment. The entire process I feel is vital to all future scribblings. I think I should probably thank you but am not sure if this would be appropriate. x
    .-= Karen Redman´s last blog ..The Bar Mitzvah =-.

  8. Girl, after the night I’ve had, you make me feel better. Because I know I’m not the only one who has crazy shit happen to her ALL THE TIME. Except you’ve written it all out and I’m still hiding because I don’t want to be judged. I should make up an alias and write out all the stuff, but then I’d just get distracted by your posts and hey — I should go to the store before it rains….what was I saying?
    .-= kira´s last blog ..{a saturday in pictures: second saturday arts on the avenue, kenosha, wi} =-.

  9. Please tell me that TV show stuff was real. Because I need that in my life. If anyone needs me, I’ll be casting Nancy W. Knappes (Paralegal) in my head for the next hour and a half.
    .-= Judi´s last blog ..Thank You CBS =-.

  10. The tv stuff is real but I doubt it’ll ever happen. But if it does I’m going to be played by Flo from the Progressive commercials. That’s going to be in my contract. Love her.

  11. Wait, you had to sit in a waiting room with *other people* at your shrink’s office? Oh, fuck that; I don’t even like it when there’s one person sitting in the waiting room when I come out at the end of my appointment, because then I have to try to get my coat on without making eye contact with the other crazy person (who I’m always sure isn’t nearly half as crazy as me; they’re probably just whiny and insecure and have really good health insurance and a lots of disposable income).

    PS: I have good ADD meds. I’d offer to send you some, but that would be illegal, and the last thing I need right now is Johnny Law up my ass. Sorry.
    .-= Daddy Scratches´s last blog ..“Up” (as in, ‘The direction in which my son’s age continues to go.’) =-.

  12. the lobby at my therapist is full of those anti-bacterial bottles and i often envision them holding me down and mentally scrubbing the depression, etc. off of me with gel. that at least makes the second craziest in the room.
    .-= Tiffany´s last blog ..I’ll have what he’s having =-.

  13. I always hated seeing new pdoc’s. Nothing I ever said was right. Plus I couldn’t fill out the forms myself so I had to to say all the answers out loud to the doctor. Ugh.
    No one is natural/authentic during those appointments.
    May I steal the smiling kitten idea?
    .-= Lada´s last blog ..Twilight & BDSM =-.

  14. Guns and a shrink…Sounds like the Sopranos. But, oh wait! Nosferatu is in it too. You could be a gun totting Texan crime Czar killing Vampires and, of course, Zombies.

  15. I had to fill out the MMPI once to become a foster-adopt mom. I was pretty sure that there were a MULTITUDE of trick questions in it like: True or False: You NEVER drink alcohol ever, unless it’s a Sunday afternoon at 3pm. How I am supposed to answer that? So I became mad at these evil testers who made this crap up. And then when I went to get results, the shrink said, “So I guess you were really mad when you took this test.” Bastard.
    .-= happyhourmary´s last blog ..DOC Wine Bar =-.

  16. I’m so relieved that I’m not the only one who has trouble with those questionairres. I went to the neurologist for my migraines and they wanted to know things like “do you think you’re wonderful?” And “do you eat?” But the answers were options like “always” and “more so than usual” or “not like I used to”. And they really felt like trick questions, because if I say I always think I’m wonderful, then I’m conceited, but if I say I never do then I’m depressed. And what the fuck kind of open ended question is “do you eat”??
    Needless to say I got a migraine from the questionairre and left half of it blank. Then realized that they didn’t care about the stupid questionairre, they just wanted to prove I really have migraines.
    Tricky tricky.

  17. I suspect that if you gave her the URL for this blog, she might give you whatever medication you ask for. Not that I think you should be medicated. Or that I think that you shouldn’t be allowed to have drugs. You know, if I could form a coherent thought, I would be rockin. And I live in Canada. Go figure.
    .-= melistress´s last blog ..Unfinished =-.

  18. That doesn’t sound at all like my shrink visits. After the pelvic we usually only get 10 minutes to discuss vampires.
    .-= Elly Lou´s last blog ..Figment =-.

  19. As long as you’re able to question whether you’re okay or not, you’re okay. It’s when you start thinking that you’re perfectly sane and everyone else is nuts that you have to worry. But of course, at that point, you won’t worry, because you won’t think you’re crazy. So win-win I think.

  20. Wow. I felt like you were just channeling my thoughts from my visits to the Mental Health Practitioner (or as I like to call her – My drug connection.)
    Only after I realized that she didn’t really care could I just relax.
    Then of course I became unemployed and could no longer afford to support the drug habit.
    So I am now drug free (no Xanax, No Ambien, no Emsam patch) for 6 months.
    Don’t tell anyone – I’m trying to pretend I am normal. I think I’m pulling it off. At least no one has tried to throw a net over me or anything.
    .-= Non-Believer´s last blog ..Oreo, the creatively bankrupt publicity whore =-.

  21. My experience with therapy makes me think it exists to make people feel badly about themselves, and ashamed of their differences, and unsure of their own judgment. That whole answering a question with a question thing just makes me want to scream FUCK OFF AND GET AN OPINION ALREADY, which I’m sure would mark me as having poor impulse control, but really is just the only rational response.

    Shrinks. They suck. And not in the good way…
    .-= Lisa´s last blog ..Summer =-.

  22. You should come see my therapist. She rocks and isn’t at all vampire like. You’d have to come to the UK to see her but think of it as a holiday.

  23. Depending on the day, I either love or hate taking my kids to their appts. Their docs and therapists are part of a foster care/adoption agency so every other week there’s something new. If I’m feeling overly OCD or panicky I make Shaun take them and then demand he tells me every single word anyone said so I can judge whether or not they think I’m a bad mom for not taking my kids to therapy. The waiting room is freaky too because I look more like one of the kids than a parent and sometimes there will be this 15 yo kid ogling my boobs while someone’s 3 yo runs screaming down the halls. And when you’re a parent going for your kid, you have to fill out that form for them. I think maybe I’m not being objective because just this morning they pissed me off and maybe they aren’t that bad and why did I not notice what texture poo my 9 yo has?
    .-= Cyndi´s last blog ..Google Trends on Touchdown Jesus =-.

  24. Hmmm. If your life gets turned into a TV show, who will play the dog? What’s his name? Dumbledore? Spartacus? Crap. Your dog. Also, can they film the episode where you go to Japan? Because honestly, I don’t feel like simple posts did it justice. Make that shit happen.
    .-= HannahBanana´s last blog ..With an "s" bitches!! =-.

  25. Okay first…YOU are my hero! Second…wouldn’t it be assumed if you are in Texas that you have a gun…don’t Texans get a gun for like their 13th birthday as like a right of passage or something. Thirdly…I could so see Flo playing you in your life story!
    .-= Jenn´s last blog ..Jesus Struck By Lightning…Crap I’m Screwed! =-.

  26. The gun question was a trick. If you had said, “no” then they would have revoked your birth certificate (if you were born in Texas)… the plus side to that; you would have qualified for better medical coverage, and could have gone to a vampire-free shrink’s office… or at least one that had vampires that looked more like Edward or Louis instead of Nosferatu.
    .-= Aria´s last blog ..A Good ‘Ole Gibbs-Style Slap to the Skull =-.

  27. A TV show with Flo from the Progressive commercials…I might be tempted into watching TV regularly!

    I think it’s probably good that you refrained from the Nosferatu comment, because I’m pretty certain she was looking for that last thing to push her into having you involuntarily committed.

    Also, your commenters are HILARIOUS. Thank you, Elly Lou, for making me snort.
    .-= a´s last blog ..Homes =-.

  28. You rock, Jenny. keep on rockin. don’t let the assholes get you down!

  29. I just blew Dr. Pepper out of my nose… Too funny! Ironically I just started going to a new shrink last week. Next week, we are playing “how to blame my mother for everything because she is at the root of all that is evil.”
    .-= Cybil´s last blog ..Post It Note Tuesday =-.

  30. Last time I went to my shrink, he had a student with him. He asked if it was okay if he sat in and I said, “Sure!” with WAY too much glee and he KNEW it. Suckkaah! I’m pretty sure the med student is no longer thinking psychiatry is a good specialty. I pulled out the super serious Crazy. Although he did call my therapist later to have her “talk to me” about my narcissistic attention seeking behavior. She just laughed and gave me a high five. That’s why she’s my therapist.
    .-= k8´s last blog ..Family Reunion =-.

  31. I would LOVE a TV show of you! That would make me very happy!!
    Jenn: Yes, in Texas a gun is a rite of passage. My son got one for his first Christmas from his Daddy. (He was 3 weeks old on Christmas).

  32. I wouldn’t worry about the vampire test. BTW- I’m not sure most shrinks have their heads any more together than the people they see. As far as being the craziest in that office. I’d doubt you were that too.

    Once I was waiting for my app a guy walked in wearing only a hospital gown and wristband from the VA hospital. I guess that would’ve been OK if we’d been anywhere near the VA hospital. His backside was in full view as well as that very special part of a man’s body when he crossed his legs. He sat there and told everybody in the waiting room how he’d just been working with Elvis.

    At least the wait wasn’t boring. He was much better than some old magazines with the Octomom.
    .-= Bodaciousboomer´s last blog ..Would a woman do something like this without noticing? =-.

  33. When I was trying to find The Perfect Shrink, I suffered through several sessions with a woman who was always an hour behind, and who frequently closed her eyes when I was talking to her, leading me to believe that I was SO BORING that she couldn’t even stay awake. Isn’t therapy supposed to make me feel *less* self-conscious/inferior?
    .-= Steph Auteri´s last blog ..Bringing More Life To These Writerly Life Lessons =-.

  34. That is exactly why I hate going to doctors. I’m always the weird one in the waiting rooms too. Then I just look back at the people and tell them I get bored easily and if any of them would like to talk to me so I’d stop having to entertain myself it’d probably be better for everyone. No one ever takes me up on this offer though. Judgemental assholes!

  35. Lady, you are hilarious! We feel the exact same way about shrinks… And I hate the way they always turn what you say into a question. Stop that. The last one I saw years ago had big droopy eyes like a basset hound. He looked so sad.

    Also, sorry to tell you… But my apartment isn’t very clean. We Canadians are just as messy.

  36. What’s the point of seeing a shrink when you have a well-read blog? The whole point of seeing a shrink is to have someone that has to listen to you. You get that for free with your blog. You’re welcome.

  37. I triple LOVE your blog. I wish I was your friend/drinking buddy. 🙂

  38. So my opinion of shrinks are this. They are called shrink because they make the “inner you” shrink in response to their question like fantasy. I haveearned to counter them with beautiful sweetness. But then some days I want to lash out irrationally and then I think, hmm. Maybe my therapist was right?

    Also, I have found that if you use the saying, “I’m telling my therapist about this” then people give you a lot more slack. Because they probably think, “awe. Poor girl has to be crazy. Let’s give them slack.” But then thr occasional prying SOB will ask something like, “who’s your therapist” and then I have to say something to the effect of, “well if I had one I’d tell her and she’d be badass about it.” Hmmm.

  39. *this* is why i am freaked out to go to a psychiatrist and just medicate via my family doctor.

    because 1) i figure my ex-husband will then have irrefutable evidence of how totally crazy i am and he’ll take our kids from me…and 2) the psychiatrist will fuck me up with either the wrong meds or else institutionalize me.

    self diagnosis of the day: paranoia

    <3 andrea

    p.s. *i* live in canada…but you should know that our houses are only cleaner because they melt every spring and then we have to make new ones when the snow returns. in the summer we just live in the beaver dams. this is why the beaver is such a well known national symbol…probably being an analogy for vaginas doesn't hurt either.

  40. I took a psychology class in college and learned that serial killers prefer baths to showers. So later when I had to see a shrink about depression, he was all, “Do you prefer baths or showers?” and I didn’t know what to say because I do prefer a bath to a shower but I know that’s code for “murderous psychopath.” They also have long multiple choice questions set up to try to catch you if you’re trying to make the answers come out so that you’re not a psychopath. Basically, no matter what you do, they’re probably writing psychopath on their clipboard.
    .-= Deana Birks´s last blog ..Surprise message from heaven =-.

  41. If we could prescribe drugs for you, and we probably would just to be nice and helpful and stuff, not because you need them, but if think they would help, well ok, then you could just come here for therapy. We actually listen to what you write, you know.

    I had to stop doing so much Twitter because it was causing me to type in short sentences without much purpose or thought behind them. I feel a little better now.

    Also, I now know what all the buttons and dials on the camera do. I couldn’t “do” Twitter and read that manual and become instinctive with the camera and the new flash all at once, and read a book, and talk to my wife and daughter in a sane manner. I know my limits. Oh, and I don’t get paid to write here and there, so there is the little “work” issue that crops up, too.

    it’s nice to write a long sentence or two. Whew.
    .-= Mikeporterinmd´s last blog ..Obsessed? =-.

  42. my therapist was a year younger than me AND a student studying for his phd in geriatric psych….WTF. we eventually parted ways because i honestly believe he was scared of me :/

  43. Ok, let’s get really, really serious here for a minute, ok?

    Are you totally, completely sure that her boss wasn’t ACTUALLY Nosferatu? I mean, I’m pretty sure that you failed the vampire portion anyways, but now there are public safety issues to take into consideration.

    Dear baby Jesus in a tuxedo shirt, please PLEASE make a TV show out of Jenny’s life.
    .-= Busted Kate´s last blog ..My Brain & My Bladder: A Conversation =-.

  44. I want to tell you that I laughed hysterically, too. Which I did.

    But mostly, I want to give you a big across-the-internets hug. You’re just wonderful, Jenny.

  45. 100% serious, TB (that’s for The Bloggess, not tuberculosis. But somehow that seems fitting also. I mean that in the best way. You know, because you tend to linger consumptively. Wait. Just ignore this part, it’s not coming out right.): Whatever the TV stuff you have going on is, protect your voice & persona at all costs. If you don’t really, really trust the people you’re working with, don’t go forward with it, because you’ll probably only get one chance at something like this. You’re so funny and such a talented writer that if this opportunity doesn’t work you’ll probably have others. Just be careful! I know people who have gotten screwed over by losing control of their work, and it isn’t fun.

  46. I went to a therapist for a little while and then after two sessions where I did not cry, he decided I was all better and released me. I think he was trying to keep me from being co-dependent on him or something. But really I think it was because I didn’t let the crazy loose like I should have. And apparently when you’re depressed you’re supposed to cry at every session. That’s what I got out of it at least.
    .-= Randa´s last blog ..Heartburn Pretty Much Ruins Everything =-.

  47. Oh and thanks so very much for visiting and commenting on my blog. I probably should have thanked you a while ago but I’ve just finally recovered from the shock. I do indeed believe it was the best thing that has occurred on my blog since I started it.
    .-= Randa´s last blog ..Heartburn Pretty Much Ruins Everything =-.

  48. Geeesh My Shrink would give you ADD medicine just after reading one of your posts. That woman doesn’t know shit about….Was that a squirrel?

  49. I’ve been in this exact same situation. I think psychiatrists are there to make you feel even more crazy than you really are. My first psychiatrist wouldn’t answer any of my questions, she just asked me more questions. I think she was crazy. So I switched.

    But about the ADD meds – they really work. Really, really, really work. But in order for them to work, you have to take them. And I forget that part all the time because I walk to the cupboard to get the meds but by the time I get there, I’ve totally gone off on something else like straightening the towels or cleaning the stove or trying to exorcise my cat because he is the devil. When you combine OCD and ADD it’s really bad. And you forget to do a lot of things that really need to be done because you get distracted by just how dirty your hands are, and then you have to wash your hands and then put lotion on because, well, you just have to. And while you’re putting lotion on you notice that you’re out of toilet paper so you have to get more and when you go to get more you notice that the rolls of toilet paper are not in alphabetical order so you have to re-organize the hall closet and then you have to do laundry because the towels just touched the toilet paper, which is not clean at all.

    What was I talking about? I think I forgot to take those pills again.
    .-= Kendahl´s last blog ..Probably The Hardest Holiday To Shop For =-.

  50. Honestly, why would they even ask a Texan if s/he had access to a gun? When I lived south of Houston I could have laid my hand on three guns at most moments, and I wasn’t even packing. I mean, I could have laid my hands on three guns assuming I didn’t mind feeling up my best friend’s grandpas’ ankle holsters plus digging around in her purse. Of course, if I dug around in her purse she might have assumed I was trying to steal her wallet. Then I might have had a different encounter with gun proximity. I guess my point is that if you live in Texas, you should probably count on shooting someone within your lifetime.
    .-= ajnabi´s last blog ..Fanaa, or, The One In Which I FINALLY Give Aamir His Due =-.

  51. I just went to my shrink today and she told me I need to work on distinguishing between what’s ME and what’s my medication, in order to get a better sense of self.

    …I’ve never had a worse sense of self as I have after this appointment….

  52. Shrinks don’t know shit. No, for real. I went to one once and she had a giant spider web in a stand on her desk, and when I was staring at it without blinking for a while, she was all, “Oh, that’s a native american dream catcher.” And I was all, “No. That a giant yarn spider web that was made by a child in Taiwan for 8 cents and which you bought in Tijauna for $13.”
    And then I was all. “Please stop writing…. you’re making me SUPER uncomfortable.”
    Then I moved to Costa Rica where I can buy whatever drugs I want…er.. NEED, just by walking in to the pharmacy. And now I’m better (depending on who you ask).

    And guess what. That shrink thought Costa Rica was an island! See what I mean?
    .-= Jamie the Very Worst Missionary´s last blog ..I didn’t even swear this time… no wait, yeah…yeah, I did. =-.

  53. The best shrink I ever had in my many years of therapy looked like a mexican yoda. I never told her that in the 2 years I sat on her couch re-telling of my crazy town dellusions, I would always imagine her saying, “Powerful you have become, the dark side I sense in you” or “help you I can yes, strong am I from the Force”. Regardless of all that, it is all because of Star Wars and my little mexican yoda therapist that I sit here today with no pants but calm brains telling you, I get you Jenny.

  54. Seriously I think you sound perfectly normal … I hate shrinks in any form so thumbs up to you for being brave enough to put yourself through that kind of torture

  55. I would watch that show. But I’ve seen every episode of Secret Life of the American Teenager, so that was either encouraging or now you’re calling off the whole thing. Plus, on tv you don’t have to worry about the proper use of semi-colons, but you *do* have to always make sure the cat’s mascara isn’t running.
    .-= britt´s last blog ..Post-It Tuesday: Stick ‘Em Up! =-.

  56. As an ex-Psych I am very impressed that you worked out the Vampire Test. Pretty much it is the only test, all the other tests are just made up shit so we can get suckers to pay for our Mercedes and trips to various tropical islands (well not if you’re in public health like I was cause I was dumb and wanted to be all Mother fricken’ Teresa for the great unwashed, where you are saving your pennies for a coffee out of the machine that “glups” at you and smells faintly of stale cat urine, and renting a closet over a cabbage boiling factory, but I’m not bitter). Oh, and every psych office is run by Nosferatu, my god how did you work all that out in one visit. You are by far the most intelligent and least crazy Czar I have ever had the privilege of reading.
    .-= Rusty Hoe´s last blog ..Fabulous Friday: Glitter Dreams & Dorothy Shoes =-.

  57. I want ADD meds but I can’t take them with the anti-psychotic I’m on. And when I’m off my anti-psychotic I go really very crazy so i can’t just switch out. So no ADD meds for me.

  58. ok, this is why i stopped going to therapy. because i felt way worse when i was done, than when i got there. plus, it was way expensive and i dont have healtu insurance :/

  59. Therapists always leave you thinking you are crazier than you think you are originally. I went to therapy for about 2 months. Basically all I did was rehash old issues that I had either forgotten about or was totally over until she brought more insight to them and made everything even worse. The 2 months I was in therapy I was more depressed than when I wasn’t in therapy. I used the therapy money I had saved up (because I also have shitty health care) to take pole dance lessons. I think I’m more well adjusted now.

  60. This post makes perfect sense. And your house is spotless (uh, qualifier: compared to mine. I don’t even have to see yours) See? Canada is awesome.

    I’d watch your show and I don’t even watch TV!
    .-= harmzie´s last blog ..Influence =-.

  61. The shrink that I saw for many many years looked almost exactly like Jamie Leigh Curtis. I found that reassuring because it meant that if one of her patients ever burst in to her office wearing a hockey mask and wielding a large butcher knife during one of my sessions she would instinctively know what to do.
    .-= Patrick Giblin´s last blog ..Moon in June 2010-125 =-.

  62. I think they bank on you feeling crazy in the waiting room. It’s like job security or something.

    My last experience with a shrink: he told me he didn’t know how I dealt with all my stress because it was draining him. I kinda felt bad for the guy…then I remembered, “Hey, I’m the one in therapy, here! WTF, Asshole?!?”

    Needless to say, I stopped going to him. Then double majored in Psychology and Social Work. I’d totally take you on pro bono, by the way.

  63. I’m pretty sure you’re not doing this therapy thing correctly. Unless I was doing it wrong. Damn.

    Why does your blog say, “No last blog posts to return”? It’s like my posts are no longer good enough.

  64. Ummm…did you talk about zombies or that your dog tried to kill you with dried chicken?

    Sometimes you just got to dive in and blow all of their fuses at once. I am sure everyone here …your moral support team here on the blog can each submit one super topic for discussion during your sessions. Of course, that wouldn’t really help you, but it would really help us.

    After all, don’t we all live in a yellow submarine snacking on crispy pickles and crunchy tacos and stuff?

    Blog vote:
    Who thinks our beloved “Bloggess” is perfect the way she is? We do!
    .-= Lookie Lou´s last blog ..Sad and Glad about this Animal Abuse Case =-.

  65. I am sure that no one actually reads the forms they have you fill out at doctors offices. I have tested this many times. I write in irreverent or irrelevant answers. I ask questions in the “do you have more questions” part if there is one. Important questions like “Have you seen my goldfish Harold?” “How much longer do I have to be sick before you fuckers make me well?” Sometimes I just write “Mango blender monkey cheese” for an answer on some middle page but fill everything else out seriously.

    No one has EVER asked me to clarify or explain, or responded to a question that I’ve written in. Either they’re too afraid of me to say anything about it… or they just never read any of it. I think the answer here is obvious. Don’t you?
    .-= Eustice The Sheep´s last blog ..A little too close Eustice! =-.

  66. I once had to take one of those tests and it included the question, “Have you sailed across the Atlantic more than 7 times in the past year.” I hadn’t, but how is that a good indication of whether you’re crazy or not? I mean, you could be a pirate for all they know. A totally sane pirate based out of the Atlantic.
    .-= Jenn´s last blog ..Getting back to the Three B’s. =-.

  67. 45 minutes is the standard.

    I was on ADD meds and I painted my bathroom, I also got in peoples faces to have random conversations. After awhile I felt the need to press on my ears with both hands-> this interrupted getting anything done, so That was considered finished and went on to try a gazillion more drugs that were ‘NEW’. None of them worked so finally I said ‘just give me some benzo’s.’

    I wanna see this Nosferatu character to judge for myself- any chance you can get a pic?

    good luck with the medication minefield.
    .-= pamela´s last blog ..Home =-.

  68. My shrink doubles my meds almost every time I go (once every 6 months) He always asks me if I have thoughts about killing myself OR OTHERS. I never tell him the truth because I think about killing others every fucking time I get in my car and have to drive with stupid PEOPLE. I don’t tell him that I HATE PPL and that most of them should choke on a fucking chicken bone. I just say NOPE, I’m good, no problems, refill my shit please, thanks, bye bye.
    .-= Peggy Brister´s last blog ..WHY I Homeschool. =-.

  69. I say fuck shrinks – I’ve only ever felt worse coming out than going in. I kinda resent paying for that.

    Best choice I ever made was to visit a cognitive behavioural therapist – they’re so much better because they don’t rehash your shitey past, they teach you how to deal with it all, change the way you currently look at everything and give you a clear path to how you are actually going to get better. I always felt more positive coming out than going in. I’d be feeling all happy and content and then have a lovely moment of realisation that I was feeling like that without drugs.

    I fully recommend looking into it (tho not sure what they’re like in the States) if you’re over the whole psychologist/psychoanalyst re-hashing-your-shit thing.
    .-= Leni´s last blog ..Sale of House Shennanigans =-.

  70. “The tv stuff is real but I doubt it’ll ever happen. But if it does I’m going to be played by Flo from the Progressive commercials. That’s going to be in my contract. Love her.”

    Jenny, better Flo than that gecko. Just sayin’.

    And not only do the shrinks judge you, but did you ever walk into a cow pasture? THAT’S judgment! All those hairy, chewing faces…

  71. Flo from the Progressive commericals wouldn’t be a bad choice, actually. They’d have to give her some tranquilizers, though.
    .-= Cynical Nymph´s last blog ..In Brief =-.

  72. Sounds to me like your new shrink deserves your 1839 1 cent piece.

  73. I hate psychiatrists. Psychologists and (even better) social workers are fine, except they won’t give you drugs. But I’m ok with that because my primary health care provider is more than happy to give me any drugs I think I need, even though she’s an internist. And when the psychiatrists (it’s always the psychiatrists, not the psychologists or social workers) answer questions with questions, I want to ask them, “What? Are you Jewish?” (because my Jewish roommate and her mother used to do that to me all the time), but then I don’t because I think that would be racist or something.

    I don’t have ADD, but I can ramble with the best of them. Especially when I’m exhausted, in excruciating pain, and sleep-deprived. Like now. So you seem pretty sane to me.
    .-= Kelly´s last blog ..Rainbow Connection III =-.

  74. I once went to a shrink and was bawling so hard I couldn’t speak. She told me she “didn’t think she could help me” because I couldn’t communicate. Her office was cramped with packed boxes and I kept thinking she didn’t want to help me because it was her last day there. I left there nearly suicidal. What kind of therapist sits and stares you down and then tells a bawling woman (clearly a sign of depression) she doesn’t think she can help. Now if I get to that state I just go to my physician, fill out the dry erase pad with the 8 rated questions and get on meds. Unfortunately I get more help from reading books like “Feeling Good” by David D. Burns. GOOD LUCK!
    .-= Jezi´s last blog ..Don’t Shake the Baby =-.

  75. Oh, I really hope that the tv stuff doesn’t work out. I know that’s terrible but it’s true. Because then people will get to know the tv you, which could never possibly live up to the *real* you. Did you see what they did to Jeff Foxworthy? Rodney Carrington? Reba MacIntire? All hilarious, talented people and their tv shows were horrific parodies of them. I want the world to know the talented and hilarious you.

    I’m sure that didn’t come out any where near what I meant it to say. Whatever. We’ll just leave it at: Don’t be Rodney Carrington. Word.
    .-= followingtheroad´s last blog ..A History of Men =-.

  76. I’m Canadian and I’m still crazy. Really crazy.
    And a couch often goes by the name ‘chesterfield’ here. <– carving tip.
    And I heard that all Texans have gun boxes under the divers seat (that contain an actual loaded gun) Is that true? <– must know.
    If so, the gun question is really stupid.

  77. My husband takes ADD meds. I used to dream about the day he’d finally treat his ADD. Now, I miss the days when I had a reason for my messy house. Turns out I don’t like to clean. That made me depressed. So now I take anti-depressants.
    My house is still messy, but I feel good about me.
    .-= Sarah p´s last blog ..Karma, or God’s Groin Punishment =-.

  78. Yo, Jenny, wassup? This is totally the first time I’ve commented here but that’s how I roll. I treat ya like I know ya or somethin’

    ANYWAY… is it sad that every time I laugh so hard that tears roll down my face and choke out sputtering “You…. ahahahaha…. *gasp* … you HAVE to … *snerk* *gigglesnort*… READ THIS!!!” to my boyfriend he just gives this heavy sigh and stares at me all squinty eyed and holds out his hands for the laptop and says “It’s the BLOGGess chick again, isn’t it?”

    And then we get into an argument about how to pronounce your name… er, your nom de plume or whatever. He says it’s the BLOGGess, and I say it’s the bloggESS, like prinCESS. Can you just tell me I’m right so I can tell him to STFU and go get in the corner with Victor along with all the other guys who have no sense of humor?

  79. Since you live in TX, the question shouldn’t be ‘do you have access to a gun’, it should be ‘what type of guns and how many do you have access to?’

  80. worth noting: the only time i ever felt hopeless enough to seriously consider suicide was leaving my shrink’s office. i decided not to go back.

  81. When you get the bill for the therapy session, pls send the shrink a photocopy of your cunt coin (god, good thing I don’t type dyslexic). Obviously don’t pay with the real coin. That’s a family heirloom now. Also, that TV show will so rock giant pieces of awesome granite … One Flew Over the Bloggess or something equally memorable. It may only get screened in South Africa (that’s where the grating sound of vuvuzelas is coming from, y’all) after I die and become a zombie, but I think zombies deserve to be entertained as much as living crazy people.
    .-= The Dalai Moron´s last blog ..Stop Crying Over Spilt Oil =-.

  82. I don’t understand why you need drugs to do math. And where were those drugs when I was in high school? I need drugs to ADD because I can’t even work a calculator. ARGH! Someone get me these ADD drugs, stat!
    .-= Uriah´s last blog ..As if I wasn’t hot already =-.

  83. Weird. The same EXACT thing happened to me. Only I had my feet in some stirrups in the office. Which was REALLY weird because is was a shrinks office….and I’m male. And instead of Nosferatu it was Salvador Dali and instead of drawing smiley kittens I drew Bill Mahr and Rosie O’Donnell buying a cresent wrench from an elephant. Then I thought, “Well this is fucking awkward…I’m supposed to be at the dentist today!”
    So yeah…it was the exact same thing….only totallly different.
    .-= Fivehead´s last blog ..It’s ok…’prolly a bus full of mistakes anyway. =-.

  84. Thank you, once again, for making me laugh out loud. It’s an all-too-rare occurrence in our world today. And any post with a Nosferatu reference gets my personal seal of approval. Hope the double meds are working, but not too well. It might affect your writing. 😉

  85. LOL that you were showing the parking lot your phone.

    My least favorite shrink question:
    “And how does that make you feel?”
    Well, obviously crappy or I wouldn’t be here, dumbass.

    Have you ever tried Cognitive Behavioral Therapy? It involves a lot less digging in the past, IMO.
    .-= Wombat Central´s last blog ..Movie Monday – I Go Swimming =-.

  86. Ugh. I hate those questionnaires. They ARE trying to trick you, because if anyone answered them honestly, there would be a LOT fewer people walking around free.

    I usually played Guess the Affliction when I was in the therapist’s waiting room. It was mildly entertaining. Sometimes a little scary.

    I miss therapy.

    P.S. I was SO EXCITED when I read that you want Flo to play you in your [hopefully] upcoming t.v. show. Except I thought it was Flo from Alice [KISS MY GRITS]. I think she’d be a great alternative.
    .-= Suniverse´s last blog ..Finally. Finally over. =-.

  87. I show my cell phone the parking lot all the time. It’s crazy not to. By the way, I’m not so sure if you lived in Canada you’d be on the meds you so desperately need (or want). Those neighbors to the north have taking away such services as chiropractors, therapists, and dietitians. In fact, screw well being and eating more healthfully. If you want to lose weight, you need to gain a hundred pounds and then you can have gastric bypass because the government will pay for that. Huh?
    .-= Michelle Zive´s last blog ..Thanks for the Memories =-.

  88. Just wanted to let you know that reading “impulse-control problems” made me literally laugh out loud in a meeting earlier, which means I probably caught it from you because I used to be able to sneak in my web-surfing during meetings without any problems at all.

    And ADD meds = meth (no, really) and I think I remember something about you already having access to that “medication” so perhaps you should just accept the fact that your brain is simply too active and smart to be contained by anything as mundane as a “train of thought”. That seems to work for me.

    And just so you know exactly who to ask for when directing the casting director, Flo is really Stephanie Courtney (although that might not be her real name).

  89. I just had an anti-spam question on another website… “what colour is an orange?”. I think you just answered that for yourself douche canoe.

  90. The worst part of shrinks is that they can’t just speak directly to you. They have to question everything you say and do.
    “Were you loved as a child?”
    “Did you get a lot of spankings?”
    “Did you kill and/or torture small animals?”

    No matter how you answer those questions their response is always the same “how did that make you feel?”

    Well shit, that’s what I’m here for, you tell ME how it made me feel and we’ll both get our money’s worth out of this visit! UGH
    .-= Steph´s last blog ..Where We are Now =-.

  91. I have been wanting access to a handgun. I thought I was going to have to visit a gun shop, fill out an application, and go through a waiting period. I had no idea I could visit a shrink and get a prescription for one. This is sooo cool! Thanks, Jen.

  92. I saw a therapist for a while right after my late husband was diagnosed with his terminal illness. But I ended up spending most of the sessions trying to make the therapist feel better because she found my situation so stressful and sad, so I quit going. I really didn’t need the extra work.

  93. Oh God you just made me realize how ridiculous I am. I go to the psychiatrist and I want to be all: ‘I’m not crazy. Not like all these other people at the psychiatrist. No. I am completely normal. I just need to go to the psychiatrist because..’

    And then I have to admit that I am crazy.

    The weird thing though is that when you want people to be like ‘aw, she’s crazy, don’t make her do anything, face any consequences for her actions and just coddle her’ they are all ‘well, you aren’t THAT crazy.’ And when you want to be normal, then everyone is all ‘you are crazy because you go to the psychiatrist.’

    Are there no benefits to being crazy, I ask you? Frequent flyer miles? Nothing?

  94. Well at least your therapist isn’t coming to see you perform at events outside of his or her office. That is a bit unsettling.

  95. Wow, your shrink is horrible. I had an awesome shrink. I would talk about how Meteors and Ceiling fans were going to kill us all and he would mention that gamma rays were probably going to do us in. And that made me feel better.

    Also, he had the best “I got fired this way stories” and Vomit stories. I mean, after I threw up on my lap in my car during my first trimester he sympathized by telling me the best “throw-up in-your-shirt-because-you’re-too-drunk-at a-wedding-and-think-no-one-will-notice-because-you-threw-up-INSIDE-your-shirt” story.

    Also, I was pretty good after six months of therapy but kept going back because I just liked talking to him so much. He laughed at all my jokes.
    .-= Rudy´s last blog ..Pretend Tans =-.

  96. If you had a television series, who would play James Garfield? Obviously he’d have to be a recurring character. And I’d totally watch that show.

  97. If they do make a TV show about your life, I should definitely play you. I’m totally one of those Triple-Threat-Glee- types. Minus the dancing.

    So I’m a Double Threat. Is that even really threatening at all? Or can I add another skill to round out the triple threat trifecta?! I make a mean mojito. That should totally count.

  98. Okay the real question is, if they do make show out of your life, yea Flo could play you and who knows about Victor but here is what all Americans and Canadians and whoever else reads your blog…….who would play Hailey? How could they ever find a kid who would be able to capture the pure awesomeness of Hailey? No one….she would have to play herself.

  99. What kind of a writer are you if kittens do not make you want to kill yourself? Kittens outsell Hemingway, the geniuses behind the grammatically-challenged kitten website are going to be gazillionaires and the television executives considering your story are being courted RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE by the creators of a competing drama featuring a year in the life of three kittens.

    That last one is my project, by the way.

    .-= Suburban Kamikaze´s last blog ..Secret Life of the Suburban Man, Part IV: Man vs. Stump =-.

  100. Dude, when you said the head shrink looks like Nosferatu, I read it as part-of-the-body head, which just made me wonder what other body parts have shrinks.

  101. I certainly hate going to the doctor. They always act so smug, like they know more about me than me! Are you F’N kidding me??!!

    Well I guess after my physical they do know PARTS of me better than I do.

    If Nosferatu is the head shrink, the rest most be part of the Coven. Run!!!

  102. OMG! The other day when I was trying to explain why I loved your blog so much and sounded crazy, I thought how much I would love, love, love to see a show about you! That would be my favorite show ever. And I think its hilarious that from all the actresses in the world you would pick Flo from Progressive. That’s just too funny.

    I’ll be praying it happens!

  103. I went to a shrink once. She spent the hour talking about how she understands stress because she has a difficult family life.
    She then continued for an hour to tell me about how much her family sucked. At first I was annoyed, but then i was all “Wait is this a competition??” And damnit I am one competitive bitch and IMAGINE this woman in a scrunchie and elastic waisted jeans was going to beat me at anything!!

    So when she was talking about how her son was smoking pot and she was worried it was ruining his life I was all “Yeah I’m worried my unborn baby s stealing all my black tar heroin I’ve been doing. I mean, that is one selfish goddamned fetus”

    I was asked not to return. But I wasn’t billed so I WIN!!!

  104. I went to see a head doctor after my brother died suddenly and without warning (wait, that means the same thing), and I spent more of my time there crying, and wondering if I was doing things correctly or not. I looked to a friend who has been going to head doctors for years and years for advice, and she just told me that I need to totally open up and be myself and tell the truth. I couldn’t believe they finally sucked her in. We’re no longer friends. Thanks a lot head doctor.
    .-= Zephyr´s last blog ..Rediculous Facebook pages =-.

  105. If you had ADD(erall) drugs you would actually be flying accross the united states by flapping your arms, delivering this post in handwritten form to everyone of your readers and your house would be immaculate and your toes would be manicured and inbetween that there would also be lots of sex.

    (not that I know any thing about add drugs AT ALL)
    .-= A Vapid Blonde´s last blog ..Motor Oil Soap Is Definately Not The Same As Orange Oil Soap =-.

  106. Don’t live in Texas any more, though my work is about how our grandparents survived it, and I have to say: your “I live in Texas” comment made me laugh out loud!

  107. I once failed a sanity test too. Well it wasn’t really a test…but, kinda. Apparently I am like the only one who didn’t see the mask optical illusion, during highschool or undergrad. In this illusion if you look at a a turning mask, when it’s inside out it should still look like it’s forward (I probably also failed explaining it). Well a friend showed me and I was all “what are we supposed to see?” and she was all “seriously?!” and I say “well I can’t hear the volume, I want to hear them explain it.” and she’s like “really?”. Well I could see the illusion after is was explained…but apparently only people with disorders such as schizophrenia don’t see it. Which is ironic, cause I’m a grad student studying schizophrenia.

  108. My neurologist once sent me to a psychiatrist. She spent exactly 15 minutes with me asking me the same goddamn questions I had already answered on the paperwork I filled out in the waiting room, almost like it were a test to see if I’d give the same answer twice. Then she asked if I used any recreational drugs. “No,” I replied, carefully concentrating on maintaining a cool, calm, regular heartbeat as though I were needing to beat a lie detector should my answers be used against me in court. “Really?” she asked, totally shocked. She didn’t believe me. So much so that I almost didn’t believe me. Those psychiatrists are fucking tricky little mind-benders. Then she handed me as many anti-depressant samples as I could carry and released me back into the wild.

  109. You are deliciously emphatic. I endeavor to write with your energy. No, I’m not a foppish geek-bag–just a geek-bag word hound. Thank-you for making me less lonely.

  110. This is almost exactly what goes through my head when I go to my psychiatrist. What meds did they put you on? Because apparently I’m not on the right ones.

  111. I found a srink that doesn’t make me feel all crazy, I went tgrough 5 of them before I found her but she works at my college. So once I’m done with school I’m screwed again..damn it. Also my experience with vampires is that that they hate when you point them out, something about crazy eople with streaks and what not. Sorry if this comment is kind of strange..typing ob my phone sucks.. But I’m out of internet time..freakin verizon.

  112. My g/f and I went to a counselor, to try to work thru the effects her horrible post traumatic stress syndrome and ensuing phobias wreaked on our relationship, and the therapist told her in a private session that she should break up with me because she needed to around completely sober people, cause I like to eat lil piece of weed and go for a run or go to the gym. Basically she tried to break us up. What.the.fuck?
    Meantime she was taking valium? What the fuck? I swear, alot of these people know that their patients are in a fragile state where they are very suceptible to suggestion, and they fucking get off on putting their own issues onto their patients. Or, flip side, they don’t have enough understanding of how hard the human mind will fight to justify its behavior, even to lying to the therapist about their lives so it seems like it is outside stuff and not them. Sucks.
    Sorry for dumping this here but damn, it felt good to get that out all this time later. Yeah, we made it through. No thanks to that mustachioed bitch, and lighter in the wallet.
    .-= Alyxherself´s last blog ..I have a new blog, and it is about you. =-.

  113. This is about to sound horrible but I’m so glad to hear other people feel like their psych doesn’t give a shit. I was starting to freak out that maybe I’m just a horrible, weird, crazy bitch and the psych was this professional who’d just had it with my childish fear and misery shit. Now I think maybe he’s just an asshole. I’m probably still crazy, but at least now I feel less like I can’t be helped.

  114. Um, so until you get to know your new shrink better, I wouldn’t necessarily mention the truck full of buffalo parts.

    Or James Garfield.

    Or that one time you were riding with two guys from work and the guy who was driving took a wrong turn and you ended up in this creepy, dead end with a deep, dark forest and a really steep drop-off and you said, “Now THIS would be a great spot to dump a body” and then the two guys in the front seat both turned toward you in that really slow motion kind of way like you just sprouted another head and said in unison, “What did you just say” and then you were all, “Nothing, ha ha, just kidding” but what you were really thinking is, “If we DID have a body in the trunk I just totally saved our asses, ’cause the is the PERFECT spot to dump a body, and what’s with the attitude assholes, you have absolutely NO imaginations.”

    Oh wait, that last one was me. My bad.

  115. a. If you actually get a tv show made, even my husband would watch it, but since you’re almost as profane as I am, I’m thinking it would have to be on HBO because no one wants to see your life bleeped.
    b. If you were put on ADD meds…fuck, you’d talk about boring shit and make perfect sense and then there goes any future book deals or tv shows. Don’t do it.
    c. Here’s a nice straight jacket. It doesn’t look like it like the usual canvas fare that’s always so harsh on the skin.–Spandex-Straitjacket.html
    .-= Amy´s last blog ..No More Tele-Whore! =-.

  116. Psychologists do not have vampire tests. They are not nearly as smart as they would like you to believe. I know, I had one as a roommate for a few years. The only reason anyone becomes a psych major is because they want to be able to self-diagnose and/or self-medicate. This will probably offend any psych majors that are reading this, but the truth must get out! Also, they train them to talk in “that voice” (you know, the monotone?) so if you’re bored next time you’re there, try to get them to say something in their real-person voice. It will keep you amused for, oh, a good fifteen minutes. Peace out.
    .-= Christina´s last blog ..Once Upon A Time… =-.

  117. I just say what I think she wants to hear so I can get my scrips. I’m fine, I sleep ok, my concentration is fine, my libido is fine, we’re going on vacation, I finished a project. Give me my Lexapro.

  118. Jeez I hate it when the docs answer my questions/statements with questions. Don’t they know I’ve got enough of that going on in my own head. It’s not easy to deal with all those voices.
    I think you handled yourself quite well. Plus, y phone’s always begging me to show it stuff: parking lots, zoo animals, grandma…oh wait, I think that’s my son. Fuck, I’m getting them confused.
    .-= Tonya´s last blog ..Guest Post on Cafe Mom =-.

  119. First – I love you.

    Second – Sometimes I think that anyone with self awareness instantly becomes crazy. Because it drives us all so freaking nuts to simultaneously act crazy, be aware that we are acting crazy and assess how crazy the people around us think we are. Would be much better to be stupid and crazy, ie. “normal” sometimes. Though much less entertaining.

    Third – I am sitting in front of the TV waiting for your show to come on. Make popcorn.

  120. Ugh. I recently had to break up with my therapist because I felt like whenever I was talking to him I was speaking some incomprehensible foreign language. Like, he never really _got_ anything I said, he would just ask me endless things in an attempt to qualify or quantify what I had said, and it left me feeling very tired and bummed out. (He was a super nice and funny guy, though, otherwise, and very pleasant to just have a normal conversation with.) Also, I tend to not be at all honest enough about my general mental/emotional state, because I refuse to even consider taking anti-depressants (which most medication-prescribing doctors would really advise me to do) and also I feel like a whiny little bitch complaining about stupid shit in what is, in the grand scheme of things, a fairly charmed life, really. Gah. So I quit. Except I kind of think I really _do_ need to be talking in a real way with someone professional on a regular basis, but I have no idea how to find someone else (I don’t like the looks of any of the other therapists/shrinks at the hospital I go to).

    I had to have an appointment with one of the actual psychiatrists in order to get a prescription for some Ativan, to deal with my fairly mild-but-occasionally-disruptive panic/anxiety, and I could tell he totally knew I wasn’t being honest with him about my general depressive-ness (which my therapist confirmed for me, later, which made me laugh a lot).
    .-= Miss B´s last blog ..If You Were Sentences… =-.

  121. I, too, write about Morgan Freeman. And sasquatches. And I have and always will be equally afraid of and enchanted by velociraptors. If you go to my blog and search for these things, you will find results.

    And to think I only stumbled across your blog because my husband sent me a link which had another link which then had your link. Crazy.

  122. I LOVE FLO!!!! Ok. What do we need to do to ensure 1. the TV deal will happen, 2. Flo will be on board??!!

    Who will be playing Victor? Or is he going to be like Mr. Wilson or the teachers in Peanuts? 😉 And WHO will be playing James Garfield?!
    .-= subWOW´s last blog ..Be cool like me. Wear Threadless. =-.

  123. This blog is totally amazing, I love it. Fuck I know the whole psychiatrist thing blows, never thought about whether or not I passed that fucking vampire test though, maybe I should go back and find out.

  124. me and my first husband went to marriage counseling where the Dr actually told my ex he was a dick. So we stopped going because I already knew he was a dick and could call him that for free.

  125. I friggin love Flo or maybe Rose from Two 1/2 Men!! I love both of them!! I hope it happens, I would watch, Fo Sho!! You are perfect just the way you are…ask Victor, (or don’t). : ) You seem ok (kinda) to me. : ) Happy Father’s Day, to Victor!!

  126. okay, I think I love you. Wait, no, not like love like I want to stalk you and stuff but like if you die, I’ll be really, really, really unhappy. That kind of love. I’m a chick, by the way, but I’m straight. Now I sound like a douche that doesn’t like gay people or something, but I’m a very equal and open-minded person. Sorry, I got off track. Anyways, you are definitely one of the funniest people I have ever EVER read of and thank God for Hyperbole and a half or else I would’ve never come here. Like, I just got here and read some of your PNN thing (ask the Bloggess) and the first couple of posts until here and you’re so GD funny. My last therapist was crazy and never talked, so I would fill the awkward and silent moments with inane words and information, like “next week I have a project due” and “my dogs are white” or “I really want a smoothie.” Just kidding about the last one.

  127. This is my first visit to your blog and I think you are crazy – but my kind of crazy. I just laughed until I cried, and I will be back to read more soon!

    And to be clear – I mean the nice kind of crazy – like crazy funny and crazy good. Now I feel like I’m failing some sort of test.

  128. I could not read an entire sentence of this post without laughing hysterically. I mean tears rolling down my face, snot dripping out of my nose and me hyperventilating. Then I choked on my coke. Not the drug. The drink.

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