Personality Disorder Test

I recently took one of those online personality disorder tests.  Here are my results.  I can’t say that I’m surprised.  I’m not.  Now I have it in writing from one of those neat websites saying that yes, I am crazy.  It makes the tears more real to be able to say see this is what I “unofficially” have.  I guess, in the greater scheme of things, it doesn’t really matter.  It only matters if I think there is a chance at all of getting better.  And I don’t believe there is.  But for some reason, having a name besides depression helps.  Or maybe it helps being able to say I have something that most people haven’t heard of and can’t off the top of their heads openly criticize me for.  If I say I am depressed, everyone already has a reason for the way I’m feeling, complete with a step by step plan (of things that don’t work) of things that I *should* be doing, but since I’m depressed, apparently am not.  However, if I am "Borderline" most of the people that I’m talking to won’t know what the heck that is, and won’t give me a hard time about it.  So, here’s what I am, or what this test claims I am.  Hopefully the links will work, so you can read their "definition" of the "disorders".  Or you can google them, which is probably better anyways.




Paranoid Personality Disorder:


Schizoid Personality Disorder:


Schizotypal Personality Disorder:


Antisocial Personality Disorder:


Borderline Personality Disorder:

Very High

Histrionic Personality Disorder:


Narcissistic Personality Disorder:


Avoidant Personality Disorder:

Very High

Dependent Personality Disorder:

Very High

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder:


Take the Personality Disorder Test
Personality Disorder Info

This weekend and some thoughts

It’s been such a long weekend. I’m exhausted, but enjoyed the weekend much more than today. Friday we went to a bowling thing with a local ASCE YM group. I’m not real active in ASCE, so getting to meet a few folks was actually ok. Both me and my husband went, and lost every game to the other two 🙂 . At least he had fun though, which is good. Saturday we cleaned a bit in the morning. Then to a wedding reception on Saturday. I’m not much for social events, and didn’t really know anyone there. I made it through I guess. Sunday was the Habitat House build with a local UMC. It was ok. Lots of work, but I got to meet some cool people and help build a house from someone that seems to be nice, so it made the work worth it. We woke up at 4:00 in the morning as we had to be at the house at 6:30. We were supposed to take two other people out there that didn’t have a way to get to the house. We were supposed to meet at 6 in the morning. At 6:15, I called them, wondering where they were. Apparently one of them was sick and they couldn’t make it. While I wasn’t upset by the fact that they couldn’t make it, it was a bit unnerving that they didn’t think to call me so we wouldn’t be sitting out in the parking lot waiting for them for 20 minutes. I’m tired today. And facing a day at work. I started crying at 6:30 this morning, and I have been crying a lot since then. I’m tired and when I’m tired it’s hard to face the days. Most people don’t know what I go through. Very few family and friends I’ve told. It’s easier this way I guess, though lonely. I don’t get the constant how are you doing questions that I’m expected to answer correctly. Now it’s just Fine or I’m tired. Something less obvious (or a flat out lie). I’m not alright though (I am tired though – no exhausted). I’m tired of trying to beat this depression. Tired of going on day after day wishing that I wouldn’t make it to the next day. In a way, I don’t want to make friends. Don’t want to rehash and try to explain the feelings to someone who potentially won’t understand; and potentially won’t want to ever talk to me again. I’m not offended when people don’t understand. I get that; I’m not sure I would understand the feelings if I wasn’t fighting them right now (and honestly, sometimes I still don’t understand them). However, the whole I’m too depressing to be around does get old after a while. And it means that I’m a lot less likely to actually open up to people if I keep getting the whole I’m too depressing to be around. It’s like I have to be a pretend person when I’m around people. To put up a wall that they can’t cross. Unfortunately, it’s hard to have the “wall” shift. So while I do such a good job keeping everyone I don’t want in, it’s hard to let the people I do want to know in.

I can’t do this

So another weekend where I feel that I did nothing. Weekends like these tend to pile up the never-ending stockpile of work. I wonder sometimes how folks with kids do it. Heck, I can’t even take care of myself how the crap am I going to take care of another human being that relies on me?

The depression is still bad. I know people don’t get it. Why I can’t just be normal like everyone else. Why I can’t just be happy. I often wonder what the point of living is. Why I go on day after day. Maybe for my husband. Maybe for my dog. I don’t care anymore. I just do. It just seems easier to live, then to have to go through a change like dying. Wow I know that’s such an incredibly shallow thought.

The thoughts are still there. I still battle them daily. I still wonder could hell be worse (I know God won’t want me). Worse than feeling completely alone and desperate. But I still trudge along, wondering when the pain is going to stop. Wondering if I even want the pain to stop. I know, a weird thought. Most people are probably thinking I’m really crazy now (well, if you weren’t already thinking it). Don’t ask me to explain it; I can’t. Even if I could, I wouldn’t.

I’m still going to counseling every two weeks. A lot of times I wish it could be more. I have to take off work though. I don’t want the boss getting mad at me. Maybe if I changed jobs to one that my boss would let me leave at 4, like my last one did, I could go back to every week. I know I need more help. More help then I can get right now. As I said before, though, I’m tired of trying. I’m tired of fighting. I just want everything to stop. At this point, I don’t care how.

I know people have stopped reading my blog. Not like I can blame them. Who wants to hear some loser complain about how rough life is, even though she has it so good? Very good, no one. I’m in this alone. I knew that a long time ago. I just thought that maybe one of those anti-depressants would help me. Apparently none did. So the only conclusion left is this is my fault. And I deserve to be alone.

Labor Day Weekend

Well, it’s another week at work. One that I didn’t want to do, but have to in order to make ends meet. Well, I guess. We could sell the house and then I could stay at home and loaf around, but where’s the fairness in that?
This weekend we went to my parent’s place. My husband put up a fan, put in a light over the sink, and fixed another light fixture in the kitchen. We also tried to fix their desktop, which is apparently not cooperating, so it came back home with us for a complete rewrite. Well if I can find a disk in order to rewrite it.
We also went over to my grandfather’s Saturday evening to have dinner. Steaks, fried okra, and potato salad. Just what every 90 year old needs. Apparently he is feeling better, but hadn’t been doing so well lately. He was almost bed-ridden because of weakness. The doctors stopped two of his THREE (yes, 3) diuretics, he’s been getting extra calcium and potassium (which also were very low) and seems to be getting stronger. He was telling us about it, saying he wasn’t sure he was going to live through that time. I’m glad that he did, and he’s still with us today. He made a point to tell me and my sister what wonderful grandchildren we are.
When I was down at my parent’s house also brought back a lot of stuff from my old room. Clothes- like what was going to be my senior prom dress, and my class day dress. And a couple other dresses I’m not sure why I didn’t have up here with me. Also came across my senior class photos, invitations, and my memory book. My husband was jealous, I think, he never got any of that kind of stuff.
Last I heard that stupid doctor I went to on Monday still hasn’t called in my medicine she said she was going to, so I must call during business hours to talk to someone I really don’t want to talk to, so that I can remind them that they are slacking on their job. They also ended up overcharging me for my copay. For some reason that new card that BCBS sent had wrong information on it as far as copay. The card was not even one month old.
I have a counseling appointment tomorrow, so I must ask my boss for time off again. I’m not really looking forward to it since she doesn’t seem to be able to answer to emails as to whether or not it is ok for me to go. If I tell her out loud she will forget. So, I chose to have the evidence in writing. Yes, I know, I’m still waiting and hoping and praying for that other job.
So, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. What to talk about? Well, if talking about the doctor’s visit doesn’t take up the whole hour. I’m not looking forward to it, but at the same time, need to talk to someone. I’m still extremely depressed. It’s hard for me to concentrate at work, even at home. It’s hard for me to care about what happens to me. Oh, you say I’m going to die… so what?! Little things like that are hard. How many people take for granted just wanting to live? Most people, from what I can tell, automatically figure on living. But what happens when a person has to make a concerted effort to know that they can’t die, that they must stay alive? What happens when the default goes from wanting to live, to wanting to die? How does a person get through this, how do I get through it? How do I have enough energy to tackle the littler things in life?

The doctor’s appointment

So here it is, at long last, what happened with the doctor on Monday. You know, the new one I was so worried about seeing. It will be the last time I see this idiot. She made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of her time. It’s annoying.

So, 8 am appointment. Supposed to be only me. At 7:45 I’m sitting in the parking lot, getting ready to go in, when I get a call. Hmmm… doctor’s office it was. Yes, the doctor had an emergency at the hospital and will be late. Would you like to reschedule or wait for her. Hmmm, well, I’m almost out of birth control, so wait it is. Well, they didn’t think she would be later than 8:30. I had off until about 10:30, so figured I’d wait.

At 8:45 I finally saw the doctor. She asked me if I had any concerns. I told her I had high cholesterol. And then the third degree started. “Well how did I know that I had high cholesterol?” Um, I’ve had it tested… “Well why did you have it tested?” Um, the doctor ordered the bloodwork as a standard set? “Well how long ago did you have it tested?” Every year for the last eight years. “Well you’re only 29 so you didn’t even need the test done.” Hello, now that I’ve had the test done and the last one says I’m 326, now what do I do. “Well, I can’t believe that test, because I don’t have it in hand and you could be lying to me” I told her I gave the paperwork that I had brought to the secretary when I came in. “Well, this bloodwork wasn’t done by me and it would be medical malpractice for me to tell you what to do without looking at numbers from labs my people pulled” Huh? Then why in the hell am I sending you the records from any of my doctors?  So another doctor that has ignored my bloodwork.  Finally got her to say I would  have to do a strict diet, exercise and fish pills.  Hello, already doing it.  Apparently not working?!  Back to the bloodwork issue.  Can’t tell me anything.  blah blah blah.  “Well why do you want to discuss this now?  What’s the urgency?”  Well, I don’t want to have to take off work in another week, for you to tell me something I already know, when we can talk about it now.  “Well, it’s not my fault that you would have to take off more time.  And I can’t help it if you are just trying to get prescriptions for a year and only see me once a year” Every time I repeatedly tried to drop the conversation, she kept trying to bring it back up, trying to egg me on, being confrontational about it.  “Why are you so nervous, so fidgety” Because I’m fixing to have a pap smear with a new doctor I haven’t ever really met before.  “Well why does that make you nervous? Normal people aren’t nervous”  Bitch. 

Next issue… The allergy medicine I’ve been taking for the last two years isn’t working as well anymore. I was wanting to try Nasonex. “Well how do you know about Nasonex?” A friend suggested it… “How do you even know that you have allergies” So I give her a list of all the symptoms thinking I should have responded that even my dentist hygienist was brilliant enough to figure it out. “Well, if this doesn’t work, you will have to go to a specialist” No joke, because I’m sure as heck not going to come back here.

Next issue… I need refills on my acne medicine. “Who prescribed this” A general nurse practitioner “You didn’t go to a dermatologist?” No?! “Well how did the nurse practitioner know to prescribe this” Told her some BS like it had worked for other patients, thinking though, that I should have told her because the NP was a lot smarter than her.  By the way, she told me she was going to call this prescription in to the pharmacy, because she conveniently forgot to write it out in the office.  Took the pharmacy name down, phone number, and everything.  Butthole still hadn’t called it in yesterday.  At least the last prescription from the last doctor I saw was still good, but still…  How much does it take to keep up with what she was supposed to be doing, especially when she already came in to my appointment late and been a jerk to me?  Is she so busy that she doesn’t need my money?

Now what strikes me about this doctor is that she was so worried about the medical malpractice and my suing because I was asking her about my high cholesterol based on test someone else had run, while ignoring all the mental health questions I answered truthfully. Didn’t once ask me about the depression, crying all the time, hopelessness, and the wanting to hurt myself. Even though I admitted to it all on her forms. It’s interesting what excuse doctors will come up with. Why is it so hard for me to find someone who gives a rat’s ass about me?