Okay then. The psychiatric evaluation was today. And it went okay, I dare say. A long nervous day would not make me sway.

Sorry about the rhyming.

No, a long nervous day. It's never fun. But I got through it. And the actual meeting itself was not too gruesome. Dr Georg did most of the talking. The standard things like "do you hear voices" and such. Luckily we came to the conclusion that I was not psychotic. That's always a treat. And I got my more or less official diagnosis (I still have to get it in writing and all). That I have social phobia and possibly some on/off depression. Which is what I've been saying all along anyway. But it's good to have it officially for the record I guess.

The good doc was quite optimistic about my chances. Because I have the right motivation for getting better. He told me that he'd seen people like me who just gave up and withered away on their own, but that I had the will-power and motivation to get through it. I have the potential.

He's not going to send me on to the anxiety clinic though. I forget the terms he used but he thought that another kind of therapy would be better for me. The kind you can get at the phobia school for example. Coupled with medication. Some funtex or the like. Happy pills. Because they not only help for depression but for social fear too. If you're an oldtimer here you might remember that I actually went to the phobia school many years ago. But I wasn't ready for it then. It didn't help me. I think I'm a lot more ready for it now. And with the medication too, I think I have reasonably good chances of getting better. I'm feeling fairly optimistic about it. At least I will be getting some help.

Getting medication sort of scares me. But I guess I just have to trust that they know what they're doing and that it will help me. And lots of people take medication so it can't be a bad thing. Necessarily. I just have a hard time imagining a drug going into my brain and making my problems go away. It seems strange. And I'm not good at letting go of control. I have never been really drunk, I don't like the idea of something effecting my brain like that. Which is silly because it's supposed to make you feel good, right? Oh well, we'll see how it goes. Maybe losing control isn't such a bad thing, just look where I've gotten myself while I was in control. Maybe I need to let someone else take over for a while. My evil twin.

I felt good on my way home from the psych. I felt, dare I say it, kind of cool. I was walking along with my jeans, with Skye's vintage American jacket, with headphones and brilliant music in my ears. Took out my camera and took pictures of the sun breaking through the rain clouds. I felt... artsy. Yes, I know I'm not artsy. I know I'm not cool. If I were to take one look at myself through the eyes of someone else I would see the truth. But sometimes it's nicer to stay in your own little fantasy world and enjoy the feeling that you're someone, not just a waste of space.

Pssh, me need drugs? Get outta here.

Also, r.i.p. Rodney Dangerfield. I wasn't a huge megafan but I always liked the bastard.

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