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Designed by Kris 'Destral' Wilke at Destral.net

There is very little more super duper than having a massage therapist come to your house.

Yes.. in fact.. I believe that to be the superist duperist thing ever.

In other news, I raged against the machine and it bit me in the ass.

So, like, the therapist I was going to, right? Well, we were referred to her in the first place by a third party referral service. And, they are a crap third party referral service. I'm not sure how they even got into the business of being a referral service. I mean, I can imagine.. but it just really seems like a made up position to get insurance monies. If we need behavioral therapy, with our insurance, we have to use this referral company.

I don't like the way they do business is what I'm saying. On my first trip to the therapist, this referral service had a bunch of papers for me to work out, and they asked a lot of questions which, quite frankly, were none of their business. I don't remember the ones that really irritated me, but they also asked for family history of diseases. When they refer BEHAVIOURAL therapists, I really don't see why that's any of their business. That's between me and my doctor, which is what I wrote on their survey.

Another one of my co-workers needed some therapy. He needed therapy for his gambling problem, this service sent him to a sex therapist.

See... I just don't like 'em.

Anyway, the other day, I got a survey from them asking me how much I enjoyed using their service, and if I would recommend their services to anyone...

...and... um... I was kinda sorta mean... and kinda sorta said something kinda like, "Since you are a business, and therefore only in it to make money, I'm pretty sure I got the lowest possible quality care so that you could save a buck, if I commit suicide, I'll be sure to mention you in the note."

Umm... yeah.

soooo... I was sure to scribble out my case number and my therapist's name on the form... but apparently not well enough.

My therapist called, and, firstly, told my husband to take me to our local mental health care facility immediately. And, secondly, told us that she will not be seeing us anymore.

I felt very much like a teenager who just wrote a poem about death. IT'S JUST A POEM!!!

YOU'RE A CRAP COMPANY AND YOU KNOW IT!

I was just trying to make a point, GOSH!

It was childish, I know, but I can find my own therapist, thankyouverymuch. I don't need unnecessary companies spending more health care dollars. It's what's wrong with the system. S'all I'm sayin'.

Anyway, the hubby is disappointed that we won't be going to our therapist anymore, but it's caused us to revise our plan and commit to talking to each other more whether we like it or not. It's a good plan.

Besides, everytime I talked to that therapist, she just seemed more and more unable.

Anyway, so that's that.

I've gotten several books about my BPD and one of them spefically for friends and family of someone with BPD, so The Hubby and I will go through those and see how we do.

So, I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about the books and mentioned that I think he has BPD. And he said, "why do you think I have that?" and I said, "well, for one, your irrational outbursts," and, of course, he said, "They are TOTALLY rational."

So, he looked over the list of traits, "See? I don't have that! Oh, but I have that...and that... and... I fucking hate you. Hey! Can I switch this one with that one? Well... is there a pill I can take?"
"No."
"Well, why would I fucking want it if there isn't a pill I can take. Hey! Can we say that Lortab helps this, and then maybe I can get Lortab from my doctor!"
"I'm pretty sure your doctor will know that Lortab doesn't help this."
"BPD fucking sucks."
"I know."
"If you wouldn't have told me that I have this, I could have gone my whole life without knowing."
"Yeah...but why would I do that?"
"I hate you."
"I know."

It's a misery loves company thing, and I really love to make him miserable. It's what brightens my day at work.

I hope ya'lls are doing well, and having a BPD-free day. If not, I have books.

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