Visiting the Sweaty Toad

I have to go see my appointed psychiatrist today - since I just filled my last refill for my "happy pills" I had to call and schedule an appointment.  Poor man - I'm sure he doesn't know that I regard him as a sweaty toad, unless he reads my blog today.  Nothing has been the same since my shrink of 7 years, Dr. Jed Shapiro, left Boulder Mental Health Partners.  I know they had their reasons for parting ways; and I understand business decisions must be made.  But I really liked Jed and felt relaxed and at ease talking to him.  The new Doc tries to exude friendliness, competency, and caring, but it all seems to be a forced facade - and he reminds me of my very much disliked English Professor at UF (back in 1975).  I always picture both of them as oily, smarmy used-car salesmen, trying to sell a real clunker to an idiot buyer.  It doesn't help me that I dislike my psychiatrist.  I feel lost, alone and rudderless.  I'm retreating into genealogy, Viking history, and two fantasy - science fiction worlds.  It's much more comfortable than the here-and-now.  And I miss being able to talk to my therapist about anything....
  We are supposed to have the family Easter gathering at Sarah, Michael, and Evie's home in Denver.  I don't want to go.  I'll be "stuck" there, riding with Kathy and Jim, and will have to follow their time-table, as always.  I'm tired of being the agreeable one, who always changes plans to accommodate others.  No one ever asks me what I want to do,  or when.  -  I'm still waiting for my sister to schedule enough free time in her schedule to be able to take her out for her birthday dinner, which was in the middle of January; and I told her in December that I'd take her out.
  I suppose it's just that a grey, snowy day (4 inches so far and the possibility of 3 more) has depressed me more than usual...   Maybe it's a good thing that I have to see the sweaty toad this afternoon.