Session the 13th with the bartender did not happen. Oncall got the better of me, not because things happened, but because my insomnia means that a night of no sleeping pill is a night of no sleep. I have to get that fixed somehow, but I suspect it’ll fix itself as we move farther away from the holidays. So I very reluctantly canceled the appointment, a slippery slope that has gotten me in trouble before.

However, I did have a session with the candy man—my psychiatrist. Psychiatrists prescribe the medication—hence I call mine the candy man—whereas psychologists are the ones you talk to (bartenders).

Currently, things are generally looking up, and the medications I’m currently on seem to be working: one to smooth out the bipolar disorder I have ((Which I used to think of as “mild” up until the 500mg dosage, which is 100mg below the maximum dosage. Sigh.)), and one for the anxiety I can never quite diagnose myself with, because my senses are always cranked to 11 with my PTSD. This is true even when my PTSD is technically not “active.”

He commented that no amount of medication could have stopped the PTSD onslaught of the holidays. And that’s very true. This is why PTSD treatment is a combination of medication and talk. He told me to keep seeing the bartender regularly, because every year I forget what happens during the holidays, and thus every year I walk into the holidays unprepared, and walk off emotional cliffs and suchlike.

This year, my bartender can help me prepare for the times that we know are hard (especially since he remembers previous sessions, which impresses me to no end).

So the dense schedule of bartender meetings continues, maybe getting slightly less dense, but I can’t see going below two sessions a month. I resolve not to cancel these meetings, no matter what, for the rest of the year. If I have an oncall night before an appointment, I’m going to try my hardest to not be silly and switch ahead of time with another member of my team.