So obviously this blog was started because I was feeling shitty for myself about dreamgirl, and how she and her perfect life want nothing to do with me, and how she’s busy some sucking some other guy’s cock. Which is unfortunate because I’d be perfectly willing to pour chocolate syrup on myself and have her lick it off.
Since I’ve been um….depressed, and a bit angry, and I started a blog which no one reads (which must be a clear sign of insanity) I went to go see a shrink the other day.
Here’s the confusing part. I tell the shrink, that i’m depressed and have a drug problem (i’ve turned into a high functioning pothead). She comes back at the end of the session and tells me I have generalized anxiety disorder. Isn’t psychiatry great? You tell them you have one problem, they come back and tell you what you think your problem is, is not really your problem. What we really need to treat is something entirely different. Oh btw, does your insurance cover this?
The shrink seemed a lot more interested in making sure there was going to be cash money changing hands, and trying to send me to a psychologist for more therapy. I guess the psychologist needs to get paid too. Maybe I’ve just been watching the Wire too much, but I got the impression that I was being Clay Davis’ed.