301.82... That is the number checked on my Psychiatry form. It's all starting to make sense...
If this is your first time reading my blog, you might want to skim the
Cast of Characters real quick.
This day started like any other. Not wanting to get out of bed, hoping to snooze my alarm as long as feasibly possible. A little bit of a cold shoulder from my wife, residual from the latest sharing of my emotions that led into her asking the divorce question again. Unable to find much of anything to wear, angry that I didn't but knowing that since I don't help with laundry I shouldn't be too upset. Today was the day I would meet a psychiatrist for the first time, and I wanted to be presentable.
A few minutes late to work, slightly worried that my boss or coworkers might say something, but knowing they probably wouldn't, because let's face it, they like me a lot. That was kind of how it began with my other boss, I made my own hours, then he reigned them in when it inconvenienced others. Then I failed to meet them by 5-10 minutes consistently. He was lenient, but I could see some disappointment/resentment, and anticipated a negative response or some form of discipline. It did happen once in a while, either for that or for something else - in particular when he had heard news of managers being unhappy with my performance, and one who said he wouldn't trust me with a project. The manager had good reason not to, in a way. Initially I was stellar and went out of my way to make something successful, things I was extremely confident in, and therefore my technical ability was always lauded. But in time, there were things I was less than confident in. One project I backed out of entirely when fear of failure and immensity overwhelmed me. Nevertheless, I was deeply hurt though that this manager who had once regarded me so highly now didn't trust me, and specifically requested me not to be in charge of his project. A different manager of a project I thought I was doing to the best of my ability, but was out of my field of expertise, was questioning my work, in no small way due to her daughter whom I worked with but wasn't seeing eye to eye on things. At least that's how I felt -- similar to my wife and my son, I'm no stranger to feeling the victim.
My yearly reviews always went the same way. "[MB], you are so technically proficient, you are a genius, you outshine everyone..... But you need to work on your social skills. I want to give you a promotion, but first we need to get you interacting more with people, etc."
Over time, this wore on me. I admitted to having social anxiety in the past and that it was hard for me, but he never gave me the skills to overcome this part. I say this because now that I have had mentors at work, I have learned that they grow you in areas where you are weak by providing opportunities and tools. But, I now wonder how well he could have helped me in this area. I had great ideas that I could not effectively communicate, at least in a way that someone would run with them. Innovations or simply improvements that other hospitals elsewhere were doing, and things we were way behind in, like printing tons of x-ray film when we were digital. It discouraged me that nobody would do what I knew should be done, but my boss had to play politics, and other than through emails that made him feel like I violated his chain of command, I wasn't about to go out and be the one to run with it. My pay discouraged me too; I believed I'd been making much less than I should. I'll get to that later.
At any rate, today continued at a normal pace. For one reason or another, I had closed my Outlook mail program, and was caught up in something so when I finally opened it, I realized I was 19 minutes late to the meeting our reporting team has with application specific report writers. The last few weeks I'd been especially disconcerted and slightly annoyed that one of them had been sending me replies to every email regarding work I had assigned to him. I had given him pretty detailed steps of what he needed to do, as far as I knew. Yet every time he replied it seemed he was clueless. The other application coordinators hadn't been asking me, so why did this guy who we thought was pretty sharp not get it? I walked into the meeting, slightly embarrassed, especially since I couldn't figure out why all my coworkers who sit right next to me hadn't grabbed me to go along like they tend to do.
Not long after I got there, the same guy starts getting loud, and sounds genuinely concerned about not knowing what to do, in part to poor direction from his vendor counterpart, but more importantly from not understanding what it was that the report writers (i.e. me) were asking of him, or perhaps why we (me) were.
I kinda felt like this was par for the course, but I saw other people nodding around the table, and I did feel bad I had added to his anxiety. He apparently had to run to another meeting, so when he left I asked everyone if they felt like he did. Everybody affirmed this, and my heart sank. I started going over in my head, what I would say to him in apology, in part because of the stress I'd caused but also because I didn't want him to dislike me for doing so, or think that I was the idiot.
Prior to the meeting, I had worked with a different AC, and together we discovered I don't know that much about the part of report creation that I pass on to her, and likely had even made some big mistakes in my assumptions. She's very nice, but I did feel a bit foolish. Some blame I can honestly lay on our vendor project coordinator who has provided us with little guidance, so we've been running rogue. But in my rogueness, I've taken on things/made assumptions, or done stuff I should probably have been more confident in.
These two things caused me a lot of distress at work, a place that has been super refreshing since I left my old job. It was inevitable, but dang it, I don't like to mess up. So I do what I do, got a little angry and started researching things, placing blame on what we should know vs what we aren't being made privy to, venting a little and spouting off a few emails. Nothing overtly vapid, but I might have had a bit of undercurrent in them, which was happily encouraged by my co-worker's agreements.
I'm not even really sure what I did after lunch but I watched the clock closely for my appointment. Psychology appointments, I don't care to be late to. I got there, handed my paperwork to the nice receptionist. Made a pit stop, and had barely sat long before Dr F. walks in and greets me.
She's a straight shooter, no-nonsense type. I'm not sure how I feel about her, but I know by reputation that she is good, and she's probably just whom I need. We go over
the symptoms I posted here the other day, mostly the anxiety. I tell her about my mom having a nervous breakdown around my 1st grade year, and about being molested, but not telling my parents until I was 18.
She asks me about when I first started having anxiety. I tell her about when I first went on Lexapro, because I thought I had social anxiety disorder as I got closer to completing my bachelors degree. At the time, I didn't feel like I really knew enough about computer science to transition from an x-ray tech to a programmer. I was very happy at my job at the time. I had tight bonds with the other techs at work, but I was less sociable with classmates - I didn't feel like I fit in. My (now ex) wife was really pushing me to search for a new job to make more money since she had "sacrificed so much in raising the kids" so I could go to school.
I tell her I have one class remaining to get my Masters, but I've procrastinated for similar reasons. She asked me more about this, what exactly would getting this degree mean? I tell her that I would feel like I should be in management, and I really don't feel confident to lead. She asks me what would be wrong with getting the degree and staying where I am happy at. I told her I would just have a fancy piece of paper. She said so? I told her about outside pressure from family to make more money in addition with my own thoughts that I should be doing more with my education.
I tell her about difficulty I have with those in authority (bosses). How I stayed on an extra day midnight job I had volunteered for, worrying about the consequence of telling a manager I no longer could handle it with my school schedule. How when I did approach her, I rehearsed what I would say over and over. When I talked to her I didn't say the right things and was inwardly critical of myself. Afterward, I would go over and over what I should have said. She sighed heavily and said that takes a lot of energy/must be exhausting, or something to that effect.
I told her about turning down two job offers, one at the University of Michigan doing my (then) dream job, because of things my ex-wife and I were going through and because I was worried I wouldn't be up to snuff. And another similar high-profile job with one of the largest healthcare service providers in the nation for similar reasons, "because they would find out your failures," she concluded which I affirmed.
At some point I discussed my wife potentially having BPD, making it clear that it was only my 'armchair diagnosis, and how defiant my son can be. I told her about dreading going home some days not knowing what I'd walk into between my wife and my son and how they can play off one another. Early on, she was careful to describe my son as a teenager, and saying about my wife' if she has BPD, which I wouldn't be able to diagnose without seeing her...' Later when I told her about Stormy going to DBT, she said that if she were going, someone else had likely made the same diagnosis. I talked about how I have difficulty taking criticism, both from bosses and my wife's shaming sessions. I said it was probably a little similar to her difficulty with criticism, but Dr S contrasted my thin skin to what BP's experience.
I can't remember what else we talked about but it was enough for her to grab a big silver book. She asked me if I knew what it was, and as I saw DSM-IV, I told her I did. She said she wanted to read some things to me:
(1) avoids occupational activities that involve significant interpersonal contact, because of fears of criticism, disapproval, or rejection
(2) is unwilling to get involved with people unless certain of being liked
(3) shows restraint within intimate relationships because of the fear of being shamed or ridiculed
(4) is preoccupied with being criticized or rejected in social situations
(5) is inhibited in new interpersonal situations because of feelings of inadequacy
(6) views self as socially inept, personally unappealing, or inferior to others
(7) is unusually reluctant to take personal risks or to engage in any new activities because they may prove embarrassing
After reading each one she looked at me and nodded, in a way saying "this is what you experience."
She said these are criteria for Avoidant Personality Disorder.
She said it is indicated if you meet at least 4 of these criteria. She said I met all 7.
I have a Personality Disorder.
She asked me what I thought about this. I think I said something about it being kind of funny that I thought my wife had a personality disorder, "and finding out
you do," she completed my sentence. I said it feels different than thinking I just had anxiety. She made an exaggerated sigh saying, "Just anxiety..." as if to say that it too was no small thing.
She told me it was often misdiagnosed as social anxiety disorder. I joked that I was better at diagnosing others than myself, and was surprised I didn't run across it during all my research. She said quite pointedly, "
That's because it's not your job!" I think my ears might have gotten a little warm.
She told me that Avoidant Personality Disorder, (AvPD), is much easier to treat than borderline. She told me (and this was my assumption and reason for finding her), that cognitive behavior therapy was the means.
She showed me a
Workbook I would need to get and talked about how therapy would go. She again asked me what I thought about all this, and I said I was happy/ready to do this!
She said I could do therapy with her, but she was difficult to schedule with, or I could do it with someone who works under her whom she would trust me with. It was kind of funny because she started to say that they were similarly qualified, but she made it clear in a way that she was the cat's meow.
We parted ways, and I did schedule with her. I asked for a better receipt for my co-payment to turn in to my health savings account, and the receptionist said, "This usually works," and made a copy of my office visit coding paperwork. At the bottom I saw many boxes indicating ICD-9 Diagnostic codes including:
[ ] 301.83 BPD and one that was checked [X] 301.82 Av PD
It's kinda funny how similar they are in number, yet violently opposed in real life. This was something that she mentioned; how sensitive AvP's are to the criticism/shame in normal situations, and how skilled BP's are at doing just that. During the conversation, I had mentioned us going to Dr S for marriage counseling, and she asked how that was going. I started to say not well; that it was work enough when two adults/normal people tried the skills but, and I couldn't now say 'just one', but she got my drift.
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As I drove back to work, I passed a Catholic High School and, as He tends to do, I think God gave me a little message. Students were out practicing track and field. The first one that caught my attention was a pole vaulter who ran fast, placed his pole but stopped himself from launching at the last moment. Right afterwards, I saw a high jumper run her swerve to the bar, but at the last moment avoid the jump. They seemed to have all the momentum going in, but wouldn't commit/follow-through because of some doubt they had that overcame them at the pivotal moment. This has been me.
I got back to work and at some point in time received a message from my wife:
Stormy: Back to work? How was analysis?
Me:
I look forward to talking to you about it in person.
(I was still kinda thinking about how funny the irony was, and how she would get a kick out of it, but I wanted to see her reaction.)
Stormy: Well that does not sound good. Should I look for an apartment now?
(Catastrophizing/baiting... I was in too good a mood to get into it.)
Stormy: Do I wanna come home? Send mom after [Bertie]?
She called me later and asked me the same kind of questions and told me to just tell her on the phone and save her from it. I was still amused and laughing, and said I just wanted to tell her in person. This didn't really make her all that happy.
When I finally got home, (after more catastrophizing while I was acting jovial about it, which illicited threats,) she didn't really react, like I'd hoped. I had told her about everything I said at my appointment, and how Dr F had pulled out the DSM-IV and showed her the paperwork.
"This is Borderline Personality Disorder," I said pointing to it. "And this is what I have," showing her the check next to it and saying, "Avoidant Personality Disorder." She said, "So you have something really close to borderline?" Maybe I reacted a little to defensively, "No... Mine is on the anxiety spectrum, recalling how Dr F had differentiated the types of PD's.
She just sat there.
I asked, "Isn't that kind of funny?" "Not Really." "Well I thought so." With no humor to her tone, "you mean how you've been pressing me to get diagnosed with a personality disorder and you have one. I suppose you want me to go to see her now so I can get diagnosed too!"
I think she also went into another spree of, "what does this mean for me, or for our marriage" catastrophizing.
The rest of the night went fairly well with the children. Actually, everyone was exceptionally close. She spent time rollerblading with the two youngest. I played catch with all but my oldest later in the evening. They (including Taz) did an exceptional job of praising Bertie for catching the ball, and didn't get too mad at him when he threw it so awkwardly that they either got hurt or had to chase it down. (He is new to ball throwing and catching.) During Stormy's show, we all sat in the living room, and everybody was fairly quiet. I sat next to her, and Sam, my oldest, sat next to me and moved in close as if asking for and I did, my arm around him. Shortly after my arm grew tired and I had moved it down, he leaned his head over on me. This is not something he usually does, actually I cannot recall him doing it before. Pepe intertwined himself in my legs, and when her show was over and she got up, Taz crawled up in her spot snuggling up close. I just sat there and felt their love. This simple display of affection and care, for no apparent reason. Stormy even came back into the room and sat in a different chair without her normal sighs of discontent that she couldn't have me to herself. Bertie warmly lounged on her lap. I have a feeling my guardian angel conspired with theirs. It was very special to me.
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I should probably end this on that note, but that wasn't the end of my day and this maelstrom I find myself in both in the periphery and clearly as part of...
After the boys had gone to bed, Stormy sat next to me while I watched my new favorite show, "Awake," of course - it's about mental illness. She said in a warm joking tone, "So that's why you wanted to be with me, because you know how much I like you."
Unfortunately, I wasn't thinking straight, since I've come to know the initial facade that BP's draw in unsuspecting partners... "Well you probably showed me exactly what I wanted to see." Ya, it was stupid. "I didn't act like anything different than who I am! Are you saying you don't like me?" "No (I'm not saying that,) I love you!" "You don't like me do you?" "No, I was just trying to say.." "She went on and on with an explosion of self-victimization. I think this is when I hit the 'anger', stage of the grief process following my diagnosis because I started spouting off, "You you you, this is all about you!" I was angry that she could be so selfish about all this when I'd like a supportive spouse.
Those crazy people with their personality disorders!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
..........Oh, snap!
