Today I had the first appointment with my psychologist since before Christmas, and, as with my CPN, there was lots to get through.
We started, predictably, with Christmas and I showed her my card and gift from my mother – there are mixed feelings about it, because I know cutting her off was the right thing to do whereas my parts want and miss her. Both the card and the cheque were disposed of on my way home.
I also mentioned the head noise, the incident with the police, the medication, the lack of sleep and my decision – taken last night – that I would not be submitting my essay and would take the 0% and try to pull it back with the other assignments – if I fail this module I fail my degree. And that’s when my psych pushed my buttons.
She said something along the lines of allowing my mother to sabotage and destroy my studies. This was right at the end of our appointment so I let her know I’d registered the comment and that was all. But walking home, I was so angry. As if I would let that happen, it was nothing to do with my mother. I was angry with my psych for saying it, with my mother for yet again messing things up for me, and with myself.
By the time I was home and drinking a mug of tea I was calm enough to see that my psych was right. Not only that but I’m wise to her tricks and know that she knew, by making me angry, I would get my assignment done.
My little sister Lisa helped me draw up a schedule so I can get everything done in time. I’m due to start back again in two minutes, so I must dash.