So, I have a question, why do doctors in general want to reinvent the wheel? Why is it I can’t go in a doctor’s office and tell them I’ve had a test done, and they believe me with the results? Why do I have to go and have it redone, me and my insurance company paying the bill? Hmmm… and people wonder why medical costs and insurance costs are high. When I have to have a test redone each time I start a new doctor just because with no other reason than that, it starts to get danged annoying.
Why should I trust doctors if they won’t trust me? Everytime I trust them, I get hurt. I put my heart in to it, just to be hurt. For once someone else has to go out on a limb for me first. Someone has to prove to me that there is a reason for me to trust them before I will trust them.
And then again, maybe I should just start lying and say I’ve never seen anyone before about the depression besides my current counselor. If I do that, then at least I’ll be taken more seriously. Nope, I have no problems with any of my previous doctors, because after paying all this money for services, I don’t actually ask anything of the doctor. Maybe it would be just better if I never inquired about test results (it’s not like anyone would call me up if something was wrong anyways, so what’s the point in taking the time to keep badgering them about it). After all, I want to die anyways, why keep making sure I’m healthy? Why take an active role in my care, when it’s held against me when I do?
I don’t know why I feel so bad all the time. I was asked that last night. Apparently I’m supposed to be an intelligent young lady, and therefore know this answer. So, therefore I should know why I can go from deeply depressed but stable to not stable in a matter of milliseconds. I guess I should get used to being dumb. I think I’m comfortable with that.
I guess if nothing else, this whole thing has allowed me to be a bit more open with my husband, even just a teeny bit. It’s still hard to tell him some things. How do I admit to someone that I believe genuinely loves and cares about me that I want to die? How do I admit that I’m that selfish, that horrible of a person? How do I tell him about the self-injuring? How I don’t remember a lot of what leads up to being upset?
Underneath the smiles and strongness, the craziness of the thoughts inside…