Testing Our Limits

6:17 AM and we are freaking out like you would not believe.  Think we might’ve slept for 2 or 3 hours, max.  Just too worried about the psych tests we have to take in less than 7 hours.  Brain is ruminating on these thoughts….  What if I say the wrong thing and they think me a lunatic and men in white coats come in and stab me with a syringe and then put me in a straitjacket and I’m hauled off to some windowless cell?  Or,on the opposite end of the spectrum, what if I don’t sound crazy enough, and they decide I’m no longer mentally disabled and take away my monthly check, plus my cherished health insurance!  I would absolutely not be able to survive in this world without my Disability payments.  So either I’m too crazy, or too sane.  Where’s the happy middle?  How do I pretend to be that guy??

I’m so worried about every little detail.  Like what we shall wear.  What if we put on the wrong clothes and the doctor(s) get the wrong first impression and I’ll have already hurt my score before the test is even begun!  Oh god oh god whatever shall we wear?!  Something casual, something dressy, something professional, something very “Kellie”?  Just don’t know what to do about this.  And speaking of Kellie, which one of us is going to take the test??!?  Oh man we are switchy as hell right now.  Thank the stars for co-consciousness and the ability to hear and feel what other alters/personalities are doing and thinking.  Trust me, everyone inside is a wreck.  Our system is in chaos at the moment, most likely triggered by my damn doctor’s suggestion of hospitalization the other day now coupled with this psychological testing.  Just too much.  Trigger!!!

do it alone

Not the least of my problems is the fact that I have to drive an hour to the big city to take the tests at a gigantic hospital filled with people.  Each one of those things scares the shit out of me.  Driving. The city. Hospitals. People. Not to mention the fact that it’s physically difficult for me to get myself to this appointment.  Driving has become almost impossible as of the past month or so, I’m not sure how long really, I just know that the hallucinations are so bad that we can’t drive.  We try to avoid it like the plague.  But alas, Husband has to work and is unable to take me to the hospital.  My mother doesn’t drive.  I have no family whom I can trust and no friends who can find out about my illness or these tests.  There is only one person on the planet who could fill the shoes necessary to walk by my side down this treacherous path. My dear friend (ex boyfriend yes I’ll admit it) who lived with me for a year and who witnessed us switching and got to know about the different K’s and meet several of them.  Upon my confession to my husband that I have multiple personalities, this friend wrote my husband an email, explaining to him what was happening to me and he told him how to handle me and even sent him some links to websites dealing with dissociative disorders.  So this friend actually knows about my illness.  He also happens to be my attorney….which I think will definitely come in handy, if for no other reason than to squelch my fears of involuntary commitment. He knows the law, he knows me, he will be able to see that I am treated humanely and fairly and he will not let anyone haul me off to a padded room. So that’s good news.  Now let’s just hope I can make the trip without losing my cool and wrecking my car and fucking everything up.

OH and let me tell you the cherry on the misery cake that is our life…  We have no Xanax.  The doctor forgot to give us a refill when last we saw her.  She did give us Klonopin, but that doesn’t work nearly as well and I absolutely MUST have the Xanax before I take these stupid tests.  So I have to wait for her office to open, in about 2 hours I think, and then call and try desperately to get them to phone in a prescription to my pharmacy.  What if they won’t give me the pills?  What if Dr. H has decided I need to take less Xanax and is therefore switching me to the Klonopin.  I was under the impression that she only gave me the Klonopin because my insurance would pay for it, whereas they do NOT pay for Xanax and I told her we couldn’t afford the ‘script right now.  So we got a new script that day.  And now we want our old script back.  Oh please dear heavens let them refill my pills by 11 AM (roughly when I’ll have to leave for the trip)!!!  Cross your fingers and your toes for us.  We are not pretty without our drugs.

Speaking of drugs, it is my chemical dependency which has allowed me to write this blog post without having a psychotic break of some sort.  I’ve been self-medicating for hours now…  First I took a couple Klonopin and washed it down with several beers, one of which I’m currently still drinking at 7 AM…Hmmm…  Also, we were lucky enough to make a phone call at just the right moment and catch just the right person and that person delivered us some marijuana.  We’d been out for several days, which we hate.  We are a total bitch without our weed.  No shit.  It relaxes us, it takes the edge off, it allows us to go out in public and gives us the voice to speak to another person without freaking out.  It also usually helps us eat, which we don’t do often, and which we’ve barely been doing at all lately.  So the munchies just ain’t happening for us.  That’s OK. We don’t want to gain back the 20 pounds we’ve lost since mid-September. But I’m getting off the subject again…

We are sitting here in our bedroom,  in the dark, drinking beer and smoking pot and eating benzos and going over and over in our mind every possible scenario in which we might find ourselves later today.  Truly it’s maddening.  And the kicker is, we’re probably just being our usual paranoid, distrusting self and blowing all this way out of proportion.  We have a knack for inflating drama around us.  Sigh.  Need some more beer…  or perhaps a coffee with a shot of caramel vodka in it?