Awaiting A Response 8


I had therapy today, and the first things out of my therapist’s mouth were about Comprehensive Care. She remembered that at my last appointment I wanted a new psychiatrist, and I figure she also got the letter from my mother. She had to assess me, and I had to tell her about my symptoms. I told her everything. I told her how I felt last Monday night, even down to physical details. I told her about things the voices had said. I told her about other things, too. She asked me about how long I’d been on my meds, and I told her that it ranged from 4 years (Effexor) to 6-7 months (Klonopin). Then, she told me that she’d have to go over my case with her supervisor before I could officially be turned over to Comprehensive Care, but she was going to make the recommendation. I told her how relieved I was to hear that and how I had worried about her saying no. She kept asking me questions about why I wanted to go into Comprehensive Care, and I told her why. I kept worrying that what I would say would end up keeping me out of it. She told me that she should know whether or not I’m being transfered to Comprehensive Care within the next few days. Just in case, she had the secretaries set me up with an appointment with her for a month from now.

So, now, the waiting begins. Beth told me that usually when a recommendation was made for Comprehensive Care that the supervisor okayed it. I hope that I’m not the exception to that. I’m always afraid I’ll be the exception to the rule, so I’ll be sitting here anxiously awaiting the response.

While I’m anxiously awaiting the response, I need to type my literary critique for World Lit, study for my Social Work test, and prepare for the group presentation/debate that will happen tomorrow in Biology. Why does everything have to be due at the same time? And why do teachers automatically assume that their assignment is the most important and therefore deserves the most time? Have they forgotten what its like to be a student?

Chelsea, the library phobia is interesting, I guess. I have tried to find information on it, but I’ve come up with nothing. I think it may be a combination of several phobias into one.

I’m stalling. I’m trying to think of things to do to keep from writing the paper. I used to love writing papers, but I don’t anymore. It requires too much thinking and concentrating. I have to do things a certain way, and I’m always certain that the way I do them will be wrong.

Plugs: Chelsea, Jen, Manila, Marie, Pia, Stella


About Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.


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