Gossips Believe Whatever They Want

I saw my psychiatrist today, and after sitting in the waiting room for forty five minutes waiting for him, I got really, really angry. I mean every other doctor in the building came out twice, at least, and he was no where to be found. So I complained about him being late to the receptionist, which usually wouldn't bother me, but he does this every single time I have an appointment. Then he comes out basically yelling at me for complaining. It's like excuse me, I may have problems, but it's not like I love sitting in a psychiatrist's office for three quarters of an hour. I do have a life, and feelings of my own thank you very much. The thing I hate about this guy is how he's all borderline this and borderline that. At first I was relieved to hear the borderline thing because that was exactly how I was feeling. Now that's like all he has to grasp onto. I despise him when he says I'm like a child searching to be an adult. Excuse me but I'm eighteen and I have more emotional stamina than most people my age, it's just in a different way. So today, I was in no mood, and I called him out on it. He was blabbing to me about how I'm this borderline patient who can be cured but has to work through therapy and stuff really hard. As if I don't put my whole life into this crap already. Then when he was rambling on, I just sat there nodding my head, while I was wondering if I should choose another psychiatrist. Then I remembered what he said a long time ago, about how I go searching for doctors until I find the perfect one, and I'm never content because there is no doctor who will ever say exactly what I want. So if I leave him, I'm just prooving to be one of his statistics, which is definatly not what I want. He was also saying how I look to my doctors like parents who fail me over and over again, and I'm just thinking what the heck? Where did this even come from? I mean if I barely said a word except how I don't appreciate being called childish when I'm clearly an adult. My doctors are my doctors. Sure I'm closer to them than most patients but I see them like six times a year, at least. Of course I want to have some kind of relationship with my treatment team. I have no problems with my medical doctor or any of my specalists at the moment, in fact I think they're doing a wonderful job on supporting me, not bashing me to my face like this guy was. I respect him because he gives me my medication, but it does make me think. I was on this one antidepressant for two years and it didn't even work, yet he would just keep me on it, when clearly it didn't work and I was still walking around depressed out of my mind. Then there was this other pill, I started off on half a milligram and ended up on twenty, which only made things a thousand times worse. I had this psychiatrist inpatient who put me on two antidepressants, and they have been like a life savor to me. It's the difference between night and day. All this guy has credit for is giving me anxiety medicine, after I begged for it, and finally finding the right sleeping pill, which isn't even a sleeping pill. It's all borderline this, and borderline that. I feel like shaking him and screaming in his face that yes, I am miserable, yes I am having mood swings, but this is clearly not the answer. I believe that I have the tendencies, sure, but my therapist even says that I'm so calm and so under control in her presence compared to most borderline personality disorder patients. I am not out of control. So please, people stop labeling me. I realize that my blog is called Borderline, because, yes, I do have borderline tendencies. But if you take the time to know me, again, you will clearly see that I am by no means a child trying to find herself in an adult world. If I was a lost little girl, how would I know that I want to major in psychology? Why would I even bother going to college? The answer is because I'm not helpless. I have gone through more on my own than most people can even imagine. I've been in a psychiatric hospital, hours away from my hometown, by myself, crying in the shower, having them rip apart my clothes, basically recovering with support but on my own. I had no contact with the outside world. When my mom came to visit me, we just talked and played games. No one else could visit me, or even call me. How do you think that feels, being on your own, while you're suicidal, locked up in this psychiatric hospital, with therapy rooms, and locks on the bathrooms so you can't purge, and padded rooms? It sucked so much. I would call myself very mature, also. I have all of these screaming thoughts in my head that I just want to scream at people, yet I control myself, because I have self control and enough common sense to do that. I am freaking sick of this identity I have become stuck with. The psychiatrist was able to give me some more anxiety medicine for when I feel a mood swing coming on, which to me makes no sense, but whatever, it will calm me down. I wasn't going to sit there any more and ask him about that. I even sucked it up and apologized to him before I left. Doesn't that freaking show maturity? Would a five year old brat apologize for saying one rude thing to her doctor? Don't think so. It just hurts so bad too because I worked my butt off to get out of high school and the environment of childhood just to become an adult, and here's this idiot calling me a child to my face. Should I stop liking Hello Kitty just to get his approval or something? And how come he can blab whatever comes to his mind, but I have to learn self control and just nod my head and agree with everything this guy says? I don't agree with him one bit, and neither does my therapist, and I'm not so sure that my medical doctor does either. The sad thing about this is, if he's going to keep thinking what he wants to think, analyzing every move I make, every word I say. I hate being stuck with this stupid situation. I thought adults had emotions too? Apparently I can be read like a book, so I may as well keep my big mouth shut from now on, so I don't have to be analyzed. I'm just going to say fine, I'm fine, ok, good bye, and call it a day. And no, that's not being childish, I think straight out saying to my face that I want to be an adult but I'm far from it is the most childish act of all, but that's just me.