I went to my psychiatrist today for the first time since March. Apparently he's a rich guy who presumably has millions of dollars; his practice is on the 18th floor of a large luxury building overlooking Central Park. The reason I went to him is because for the past several months, there have been some changes in my behavior, including a higher level of aggression, agitation, distress, anxiety and hearing loud and deep voices in complete silence. Finally I couldn't take it anymore.

I took the elevator upstairs, walked into his office, waited until he got off the phone, detailed my symptoms, and answered a bunch of questions he asked me. This went on for well over a half an hour, and at the end?

He diagnosed me with schizophrenia.

Some people would be thrilled to be labeled as a schizophrenic, but I've gone through enough shit that this is the last thing I need.

After I was informed of my diagnosis, he was about to write me a prescription for Risperdal when I told him that I didn't want to take any SSRIs (which I've had past experiences with) or any other type of psychiatric drugs that are known to compromise libido. He didn't come up with an alternative treatment plan for me, so he told me to look for one myself and to find an experienced psychologist/psychotherapist. I saw a psychologist for a short time earlier this year, but our relationship ended a little while ago--mainly because it was a financial burden and she didn't help me that much. Then I left his office and went back home...now I'm trying to figure out what to do next.