I was supposed to have an appointment with OFP (the once and future psychologist) and she had to cancel. Which was an afront to me, because people in the profession of caring for others are not allowed to have anything unexpected happen in their own lives. Ha.
I would have been super upset if I had arranged my entire day around this visit, but here's what happened instead:
I was happily reading a book on my phone. Then an alert from my calendar popped up and said I had a therapy appointment in 1/2 hour! So I scrambled to get the daughter ready, called Spouse and arranged for him to take her to lunch, jumped into the car, dropped off the daughter and started speeding (just at the legal limit) toward the OFP's office.
Then I got a call from an unfamiliar number. It was her office. 10 minutes before my appointment was supposed to start. Cancelling the appointment.
So Spouse had lunch with the daughter and I picked her up when she was done. No harm, no foul.
Only now I have to call again to reschedule and I feel like I have to say something to the OFP and/or the clerical staff about PLEASE giving me more notice that an appointment has been cancelled. And also, I thought I was signed up to get a reminder call. Which clearly, I need.
There's a spot on my left wrist that has a scar from when I used to reflexively scrape at the skin with my fingernails as a teen. Two parallel scars, actually. Quite faint. I used to be quite self-conscious of them, but if I didn't know they were there I doubt I could even find them.
This is the spot that I scratched open when I was in the Depths of Despair following a confrontation with an aquaintance that did not go well a few weeks ago. And then I left it alone.
Only it bothers me now because it doesn't look right. I know what it is supposed to look like. It should be a solid line-- not a few patches of scabby skin. And I keep wanting to just even it out. Because it is not right.
You know those neuroses that they say people with Bipolar II are prone to? Well, here's another one. What seems to be tying a number of these neurotic thoughts and behaviors is a very specific idea of how things Ought to Look.
And what strange things I pick on. Do I need the latest fashions? Am I concerned that my nail color is "So last year?" Or that my garden is a manicured splendor of perennials and annuals competing for their place in the sun with bobbing heads? Nope.
Table settings. Bedspreads. Scars. The usual.
I will share this information with the OFP at my next visit. Only she is sure to want to get at what is behind the neurotic behavior. And heal whatever that is. And that sounds like way too much work. I'd rather just close my eyes and wear a lot of bracelets.
Quaker, teacher, parent,