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I'm going to see a lawyer tomorrow about disability, and I'm terrified. I don't know what to expect and my anxiety is through the roof. I keep feeling like they are going to laugh at me and think I'm not sick enough. I've had nightmares about it all week, and I keep obsessively thinking about it. Has anyone else gone through this? What was the meeting like? Any info or support is welcome.

In November I saw a new psychiatrist. Dude was a dick. He invalidated my experiences asked me if I've had sexual reassignment surgery, assured me that my experiences within the military weren't all bad and then went on to ask if I'm transitioning because I was sexually abused. Then, after I left the room he misgendered me in front of other patients. I went to a lawyer about it. They agreed that it was wrong and have helped me draft up a letter. Got the letter sent out in December and I haven't heard anything else. I had a great psychiatrist. The ignorant psychiatrist practices at the eating disorder clinic I was pursuing treatment from. I haven't been back. My eating disorder goes untreated and no one is assisting me with medication. My general physician is helpful and has been prescribing me stuff in the mean time but she grows concerned with my use of hydroxyzine. A medication I affectionately call baby pill because it's not physically addictive and I can't really overdose on. But I've been taking handfulls to sleep through the day. I've sacrificed it to her in hopes of finding other coping mechanisms. God damnit it's hard to find others that worked so well. I've relapsed into suicidal ideation, food restriction and purging. I have an appointment with another psychiatrist tomorrow. She's from my general practitioners office. I'm quite scared. Tomorrow. It's tomorrow. I'll get the normal PHQ-9. Answer those boring and tedious questions about suicidal thoughts. Plan? Of course. Doesn't everyone have a preferred way? This... Or that... I mean... damn. I don't need to be inpatient. Just trust me. I'll probably have chronic suicidal thoughts until I actually do die and it sucks that it probably won't be by my own hand. Just tell me that you think I'm on the best meds for me, put a stamp on paper and then let me leave so I can go through the rest of my day. --- The therapist I've been working with for six years is ending her relationship with me. She helped me transition and report to the FBI 12 years of abuse. Helped me tell my dad that I was abused and is going to help me tell my mom as well. Then, about 4 months from now we're going to end our relationship. I don't want to. I kind of imagined that her and I would be done when I was 'all better.' Whatever that means. This is life for me. I guess. a slow ongoing slope of getting better. But probably never actually getting 'all better.' Fuck that. damn. damn. damn. --- She runs a not for profit organization that targets transgender and other non-gender conforming communities. It's pretty great. I started going there and was blown away. I thought it would be my found family of sorts. It isn't and it wasn't. Mental illness got in the way and some maladaptive skills really screwed stuff up. I'unno. finding a community is a big deal and I really don't.. I don't know. I want a family of some sort. I get that not everyone gets something like that. And I wonder a lot if I'm just someone who doesn't.