gimmesatisfaction

Don't get me wrong, medications are damn useful in many a person's life. I no longer took anti-depressants a year ago, but upon going to the college from hell I was forced to go back on them to retain some sense of sanity. Looking back at the many psychiatric rollercoasters the doctors put me through, I wish that I had consulted about five different psychiatrists before actually agreeing to open my mouth wide. Half the time these people don't know what the hell they are talking about, they're just guessing about your psychological make-up from a set of facts that they have memorized from a cute, concise little book. I have been diagnosed with (drumroll please) Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Depression, Manic Depression , ADD, borderline personality disorder (the most scattered mental illness of them all), and schizophrenia (cause I decided to fuck with the doctors after they gave me that stupid test (MMRI, I think) asking me what kind of bowel movements I had and whether or not I read gardening magazines). I was amused, but they weren't. You're old enough that you do not have to worry about your parents throwing you in a hospital due to a lack of parenting skills, thank the sweet lord. I actually want to be a psychiatrist later in life because I think they are all such raging douchebags. They seem to forget that a child is not a guinea pig and the mind is a terrible thing to play with. Cause money makes the world go round, and that's all they care about. So make sure your psychiatrist isn't an egocentric whoremonger, and follow your heart. If you have doubts. don't do it.

That concludes this informational session from Claudia. Tune in next time for highlights about her stint as a nymphomaniac at the ripe age of fifteen. Tata