My psychiatrist is moving on. Without me.
I had my last appointment with him yesterday.
I cried when I left.
At times I had issues with him, like any normal human would.
Sometimes I questioned if he had my best interest in mind when making decisions.
When I gave into his ideas and strategies, I was often feeling better sooner than later.
I've been feeling rather steady since the last crash where my doctor added a new drug to my list of daily pills I swallow. There's no generic of this drug and I am currently living off of samples. I cringe at the thought that someday soon I'll have to pay for it out of pocket.
I honestly thought it would be me leaving him rather than the other way around. I'm moving back to Colorado the first week of June. So I & nbsp; knew that someday soon I would be moving on, I just didn't think it would be now.
Yup, I'm trading in my flip flops for snow boots. & nbsp;
I left yesterday with handwritten prescriptions for my other medications to be filled when we land in the mountainous area.
Unless I have a complete breakdown before June, I will be psychiatrist free until I find a new one in Colorado.
Big changes are on the horizon. Really big changes. But I'm ready.
It's time to begin my life again rather than live the one that's been set up for me here in Florida. I've hit a dead-end here. It's time to be a free bird. I will fly and glide and follow the route I'm supposed to very soon.
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