Ass Burgers

Ass Burgers

Ass Burgers

According to the shrinky, I has an ass burgers.

The Bjorn says that the shrinky I see isn’t a real shrinky so he’s probably wrong about me having an ass burgers.  Either way, he says, it’s a mild case and doesn’t need anything more than behavioral therapy.  He says that I also has obsessive-repulsive disorder but it too is a very mild case and proabably caused by the chemical imbalance that triggered my anxiety disorder.  Where Anxiety and OCD intersect, there’s hypochondriasis.  Which I also has.  Each day, every minor sensation or lack thereof convinces my irrational brain that I has a different fatal incurable disease that the doctors are too stupid to find.  It sucks because rationally, I have a decent understanding of biology and I am well aware that the odds of me having any given fatal disease are very low, the sensations I feel are most likely unconnected and isolated, and that doctors use many other factors in making diagnoses than just one sensation.  I know all this but it doesn’t help me stop having useless tests done every time I get it into my head that I’ve got some kind of crazy disease.  Grr.  Is frustratins.

I has a medications for it.  Zoloft.  Had been working wery well at 100mg until I got laid off.  Then the anxiety of finding a job really increased all my mental problems.  He put me up to 150mg/day until I found a job but I went back down to 100 this week because I don’t like the idea of taking the maximum dose of an antipsychotic.  And the day after I went back down to 100mg, I became convinced that my sore throat was, in fact, throat cancer, even though I don’t smoke/chew/etc. and only drink hard liquor once in a while.  But this time, I didn’t run to the doctor to have an endoscopy.  So that’s a good thing.  That’s one of the things the shrinky is trying to get me to do is stop running to the doctor for tests and use rational thinking instead.

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