Wednesday, January 6, 2016

What's wrong? Everything...

It's no secret that I've been struggling extra hard with this round of depression. I'm entering week eight.

Just before Thanksgiving, my medication was tweaked. I emailed my doctor at some point to tell him I was feeling better (why don't I remember feeling better?) but to ask him about insomnia. Not long after I emailed to say I wasn't so okay (Tricked ya!). A week before Christmas we tweaked my doses again over the phone. I had a week from that day to get it right because he was leaving me going on vacation for a week.

I didn't get better while he was gone.

I was able to get an urgent appointment with him yesterday. I've never felt hopeless exiting his office until now.

We tweaked some more and switched out my anti-anxiety medication because I was taking too much of it and it was no longer working. Usually having a bottle of those pills on hand is enough to calm me down but I've been taking them lately. Oh how I have been taking them!

I'm off the antidepressant completely as of today. I'm counting down three days. That's how long he said it should take to get out of my system, which doesn't seem right to me.

I was down to an ineffective dose of my mood stabilizer and rather than switching that out, we're gradually moving up the dose from 50mg to 100mg in increments of 25mg. Before it was a rather quick transition from 50mg to 200mg when the side effects slammed into me like a bitch with her shopping cart at Walmart. His thought is now that the antidepressant was causing the effects, not the other. I still argue that issue.

We discussed moving to other medications but that meant doing nothing other than changing the anti-anxiety pills, coming off the antidepressants and doing nothing else for up to two weeks due to blood work. Certain labs needed to be checked before moving forward with that plan. I knew there was no way I could wait that long without hurting myself.

So the plan is set and I move forward. Hopeless. Depressed. Violently sad and angry and aggressive and tired and...and...and...

I fully admitted that I had a plan to off myself on 12/29/15. I fully admitted that I'm self-harming again, just about daily. I fully called his bluff when he and his partner shared thoughts that the medication can't possibly be causing all of the effects I'm experiencing. It was the first time I wanted to punch Jack in the face. I had a fucking list of the rare effects in my hand. I read them to him. I showed him the list, my effects highlighted in red, because I'm thorough as fuck.

Happy New was good seeing you again Pamela! 

I left his office, closed the door behind me and rushed into the bathroom down the hall to vomit.

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