So I decided to go back to counseling. I’m tired of the condescending pat on the head from the doctors when they tell me my pain is not real. Ok, they don’t say it quite like that, but rather in more of a silver lining kind of way. “Sorry you feel this intense physical pain, but hey, you are 100% physically healthy 👍”.
This round is still in its early stages, but so far she’s different in that she jumped right in trying to correct my diagnoses. She didn’t insist on some non-existent abuse theory. Oh, and she didn’t ask if I saw an ENT for the screeching in my head, like counselor #2 did. That’s sort of a “duh” and I’ve seen several several times.
She doesn’t think I have MDD, and I agree. I have never really been a depressed person. Just apparently can’t recognize anxiety. I don’t argue that I have minor depression but I have never had it interfere with my life. At least not that I notice.
Somatoform disorder. But what intrigues me is how, after 50+ years of living with anxiety that makes me sick, will I learn to recognize it. Keep in mind for each and every imaginary ache and pain, I have the “what if” brain marathon of maybe this time it is real…maybe if I get it diagnosed now, I won’t die…or lose my fingers…or need a heart transplant.
She IS getting me at a good time. We are selling the house and downsizing to a townhome…in town (as opposed to farm country), and my husband and I are remodeling it. Together. ‘Nuff said.
She asked how I dealt with particularly bad days and I told her by sitting in a dark quiet corner until I could deal again. She complimented that and then the look of horror crossed her face when she realized that my one saving grace no longer exists. Silence.
No doubt I will have my work cut out for me but InshaAllah (God Willing) this will be beneficial.