Hospitalization and Med Adjustments

So obviously I haven’t been on here much and I am sorry for that. I had a rough month or so and the meds just weren’t cutting it so I ended up sectioned in the hospital to try to get me stabilized better.

That was a trip and a half and a very vivid reminder how just how lacking mental health resources are in small communities. Perhaps one day I’ll write about it but for now, I just want to enjoy the comforts of my own home.

They now have me on Risperidone (Risperdal) twice a day, Divalproex (Sodium valproate) twice a day, and the latest, Lorazem (Lorazepam) 3 times a day.  So far, the addition of the Lorazepam seems to be helping greatly but they all seem to help in the beginning and then about two weeks in I crash again. Thankfully, I have an appointment with my Psychiatrist (whom I also had in the hospital) next week so hopefully, it will be easier to keep an eye on things this time…

Medication Adjustments

So I went and had my appointment with my Psychiatrist. I absolutely loathe the waiting room there! It’s a small room and as such, people are almost sitting on top of one another while they wait. Due to the fact that we don’t have an in-town Psychiatrist, he is only there certain days of the week and the rest of the week he’s at his home base as the head of the Department of Psychiatry at the hospital there. Needless to say that when he is here, he is in high demand and there is always a wait to see him.

So I’m in this crowded waiting room, trying desperately not to lose my shit when this chick and her boyfriend come bounding in, announcing that she is late for her appointment. She immediately sits directly beside me and starts typing on her phone (of course, she has the typing noise enabled) and having loud conversations with her boyfriend.  All of a sudden, her phone rings loudly and she proceeds to have a louder phone call right next to my bloody ear. I was on the verge of snapping and punching her in the face when the Psychiatrist came out to call me in. (I think they bump me up when I’m in the room ’cause they know that I just can’t handle being around so many people with them SO close to me and the receptionist could see I was about to lose it).

Mr. Psychiatrist doesn’t want to add anything for anxiety at this point but he did double the dosage of Divalproex. I have to go in for my blood work in June and they will decide from there which direction we will take.

I’ll be down to a quarter of my dosage of Venlafaxine this weekend. I will be completely off of it in less than 3 more weeks. So far it hasn’t been too bad coming off of it aside from the brutal headaches daily. I will be so glad when that is all done with!

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On another note: My counsellor.

I haven’t written much about her really aside from my initial dislike of the whole, “So how can I help you?” and that she booked me in to see the Psychiatrist. I’ve seen her several times since my initial meeting with her, we’ll call her A. Well, apart from my initial distrust of her and immediate dislike of her just because she was a female (sorry ladies, it’s nothing personal, take it up with my Mother) I have to say that I love this lady. Not in a relationship sort of way or even as a family member… I love her as a counsellor. For the first time, I think I may have “met my match”.

The first couple of appointments I pretty much sat in her office and grunted responses and stared out of her window, never meeting her gaze. She finally said to me, “I’m going to give you this booklet. I want you to take it home and read it. If you think it could be of any help to you, give me a call and book an appointment” and sent me on my way. I went home and read the “intro to CBT” booklet that she had provided me and sat and thought for a few hours. The stubborn part of me didn’t want to call her ’cause that’s just how I roll. The part of me that knew that I was in serious trouble and needed help put on her big girl panties and made the call.

By the time I made it in for my next appointment, I had made her a list that included: Things that will help me in therapy, things that will be an issue and cause difficulty in therapy,  and then some random crap about me. I gave her the list and she thanked me for calling and making the appointment and said that she really didn’t know if she would ever hear from me again and was glad that I had called. One of the items on my list of things that will be an issue was that I don’t trust people in general and my distrust of females in particular (and why). I had written that I was expected to share personal information with someone that I knew nothing about and that hardly seemed fair. (Note: yes, I am perfectly aware of why there need to be boundaries within our relationship.)

So for the remainder of the session, we shared information about one another. I knew that she was apprehensive about sharing any of her personal family life with me and the fact that she did, made all of the difference in the world to me. I was a person, not just a patient, not just someone suffering from a mental illness, but a real person. 

The next interaction I had with A. was over the phone. I had phoned to see if I could get my son in to see someone in the office as I didn’t think he was coping well with my diagnoses (perhaps I’ll write about this one day) and thought that he should have an outlet. A. returned my call within the hour. I know that she may have had the time free and that it could have been purely coincidental but the speed in which she returned my call also, made me feel like a person. I’m sure she could hear the concern in my voice and called me as soon as she was available to see how she could help.

There have been several events similar to the ones I have mentioned above. A. has always responded kindly, but it has never come across as feeling sorry for me and that’s a big deal. I’ve spent my life with people hearing bits and pieces about my upbringing and experiences who turn around and treat me like they would a toddler who has obtained a bump on the knee.

I actually care what A. thinks of me (which in itself is a big thing for me since I generally don’t give a fuck) and that will come in quite handy as we work towards getting me stabilized and working thru my extended list of issues and bad coping mechanisms.

Appointments and Meds

I had my appointment with my counsellor on Friday and I almost didn’t go. I just sat at my kitchen table considering how terrible I felt and how badly I really didn’t want to have to go out in public and see people and hear all of the traffic and noises of folks coming and going to work and going on about their lives. Eventually, I convinced myself that I had been looking forward to this appointment and they are so far apart that I couldn’t afford to miss one. Plus, she was copying some paperwork for me for the psychiatrist as I was almost out of printer ink with all of the copying and printing that I have been doing lately.

We briefly talked about my current medications and the fact that I probably ought to be on something for the anxiety as well since I wasn’t coping very well. I had been surviving okay until they started reducing the Venlafaxine, which had been helping somewhat with the anxiety. She fit me in to see my psychiatrist on Monday (I wasn’t to see him until the second week in June and the same with my physician and we both felt that was too far away so I get to see him on Monday now).

I’m an I was a very independent person before all of these injuries and mental illnesses came in to play and I really dislike and have a hard time asking for and needing help from others. So having to have an additional appointment added made me feel guilty. Deep down, I know that I shouldn’t feel that way as I really am not coping well and truly need help but the old, independent me, is having a heck of a time asking for more help in addition to what I am already receiving.

In addition to the additional psychiatrist appointment, the counsellor thought I ought to come and see her for an additional appointment this month seeing as this is a bad month for me with the history of May and my lack of coping. I have actually been seriously preparing for a stay in the hospital because I know things are really not going well.

We’ll see what my Psychiatrist adds on for anxiety. As of right now, I am still weaning off of the Venlafaxine, my dosage of Risperidone has been increased, and they have started me on Divalproex and increasing the dosage in parallel to the Venlafaxine decrease. I have enough “left over” pills from all of these med and dosage changes that I could almost start my own pharmacy. I really should take them to the pharmacy; having all of these extra pills around probably isn’t a good thing for me.

Med Changes … AGAIN.

Well, today was the day that I had my appointment with my psychiatrist and my counsellor.

The counselling appointment went well, all things considering. We didn’t get into any CBT as we spent most of the appointment just chatting about several things – including my visit with the psychiatrist. I had written her a note (she had asked what I need from her so I wrote the note so that I wouldn’t forget anything or clam up and just cry) so we went thru a couple of points I had listed. I know that therapists etc. need to keep the relationship professional but it just doesn’t work for me to share all of these personal details with someone that I know nothing about. Thankfully, she could understand that so shared a little bit about herself and her family. At some point in the future, I will have to let her know how grateful I am that she considered sharing anything with me. It made a huge difference for me and will in future sessions.

As for the psychiatrist, well, I’m on the road to yet another med change and this time it will be more than one medication change. I will be weaning off of the Amitriptyline and increasing the Risperidone. Once that is complete, I will begin weaning off of the Venlafaxine and adding Lithium.

Yes sir, ladies and gentleman, it would appear that I am bipolar … It’s a very good thing that I had suspected it myself or I likely would not have taken the news very well. I’m still trying to process it. The one time in my life that I would have gladly been wrong, I’m not.

Bipolar disorder does run in my family (or slowly dawdles along as the case may be). The Aunt that committed suicide last year was bipolar. What I find “funny” about this is that no one knew until I was on antidepressants and started to hear a voice telling me to do things. Then all of a sudden, the times in my life where I was on top of the world was not just a huge boost in self-esteem but a result of a hypomanic episode. *sighs* I will miss that …

I guess it’s a good thing that my “friend” abandoned ship when she was only under the impression I had depression and anxiety. She and her husband have this preconceived notion of what bipolar disorder is due to his ex-wife and she would have dropped me like a hot potato the minute she found out.

Please bear with me over the next little while as I try to come to terms with yet another large change in my life.

Update

Well, the last time I posted here was the last time that I had the energy to boot up my laptop and type. There is a positive side to my absence, however; I have been writing a journal almost daily. I’ve only missed two days so far so I’m doing better there than I am on the blog.

I went for the follow-up appointment that I had missed due to the car accident and it was to be my last appointment with this particular place (if I had the energy I’d do a happy dance for that). The result was: the specialist has decided that I have reached MMR (Maximum Medical Recovery) as such, I will have permanent restrictions on my arms for future jobs and living. The doc asked me, “Is that okay with you?” Fuck no it’s not but all I could muster was, “Whatever, I don’t care anymore”. Okay with me would be having my damn life back… having permanent restrictions changes everything about my future that I had planned. Hell, I won’t even be able to live in the same place once the boy moves out. I will add that to my list of things I need to come to terms with later on. I’m still too focused on trying not to throw myself into traffic.

My meds have been changed again. I’m weaning off of the Amitriptyline as I have been on it the entire time and it hasn’t done one iota of good. The Risperidone has been increased. My Doc wants me to go back to see my Psychiatrist again so I have an appointment with him on Monday, right before my counselling session.

I met my case worker from CMHA (Canadian Mental Health Association) yesterday and we will be working on getting several areas of my life back on some path or other. It may not be the direction in which I’d like to be headed but not much about the last year and a half has been what I want or would have liked. We met at the library so while I was already there, I finally got myself a library card and checked out 4 books. I’ve read thru the one already (The User’s Guide to the Human Mind by Shawn T. Smith PsyD) and now I’ve started The Everything Psychology Book (Lynda L. Warwick Ph.D., and Lesley Bolton). As you can safely guess, the other two books are similar, one is another Psychology book and the other a book on Cognitive Behavioral Therapies. I have always been fascinated with Psychology while I was trying to understand my family and now I’m even more interested. I’d like to know why my brain hates me right now heh.

Seriously though, I’m very curious as to why I had such a negative response to the Duloxetine and not so much on the Venlafaxine. Both are SNRI anti-depressants, neither were maxed out on dosage. However, I am a smoker and from what I understand with my average joe knowledge; the Duloxetine is metabolized by isoenzymes CYP 1A2 and CYP 2D6 and as a result, the bioavailability of the Duloxetine is a third less than a non-smoker and displacement from protein binding can cause toxicity. Perhaps I’ll ask the Psychiatrist since he already thinks I’m batty, may as well throw him for yet another loop. I like to keep people on their toes.

Tuesday morning I have an appointment with a Quit Smoking group here that funds all medication/cessations etc. You have to have a referral from your doctor so when I mentioned that I wanted to quit smoking in May sometime, he immediately made the referral. I’m going to be such a miserable bitch that I figured, I may as well do it while I’m already miserable and hating my life right? Right?!? Please, someone, tell me I’m not a complete moron who is just trying to have an excuse to fail here.

My brain is slowly coming back online. At least the part that allows me to process information. I’m recalling a lot more of what I’m taking in so thank gawd for small miracles. I was getting more and more upset about having absolutely nothing positive going on right now. My ability to think, analyze, learn, and retain information is extremely important to me. Hell, it’s more important than being able to use my arms is.

So that’s my update. I’m still miserable as all hell but here’s to small steps of progress being made!

 

 

 

Way Overdue

So yeah, I’ve been AWOL for almost a month. Thankfully I don’t have too many readers that would miss my random postings.

A lot has been going on in my neck of the woods lately so I’m not even sure where to begin or if I even should. I have done my best to remain in denial about this entire ordeal and would have preferred to remain that way but that is no longer an option for me. I have to accept the fact that I’m “broken” and can’t fix this on my own, no matter how hard it is for me to accept help or how much I feel like I have failed for breaking down and not being able to recover on my own this time.

I was in an extremely dark place while I was taking Duloxetine. I had been taking it in the morning and Amitriptyline at bedtime. After the last Duloxetine dosage increase, things got really scary for me. I don’t want to go into detail but my inner voice changed to an evil man who had all sorts of things he wanted me to do (a totally new experience for me!) and the only way I could “convince him” to shut up and stop talking for a while was to agree to harm myself. I have not done that in over 20 years but it was the only way to get a break from the constant demands. I was basically bargaining with this voice in my head. At the time I didn’t tell my doctor what was going on aside from the fact that I NEEDED to change antidepressants. I had enough going on in my mind that I couldn’t cope with being hospitalized as well and of course, the denial was still going strong.  I was switched from Duloxetine to Venlafaxine during the day and remained on Amitriptyline at night.

After my physician spoke with my counsellor yesterday, he originally wanted to increase the dosage of my Venlafaxine. I was terrified to go any higher based on my reaction to the Duloxetine so I was forced to put on my big girl panties and be honest with my doctor about why I had him change my antidepressant. Well, at least about what was going on in my head. He doesn’t know about the self-harm because he quickly changed tunes and after some questions and answers decided that I will remain at the current dosages of Amitriptyline and Venlafaxine but be started on Risperidone at night “as needed” and I now needed to be more closely monitored.

In addition to that “fun”; last week I had to attend a follow-up appointment with WSIB (workers comp) specialist doctor about 2.5 hours from home. Transportation is provided by WSIB as they force me to attend these out of town appointments. The driver thought it would be fun to slam into the rear end of the car in front of us on while on the highway. I missed my specialist appointment and the company providing the transportation took me back to my town to the hospital (I refused to go to the one there and made them take me home. My anxiety was thru the roof and I hurt and just wanted to be “home”).

I got a great doctor at the Emergency Department (actually the one who made the referral to the psychiatrist and specialist for my chronic pain) and he sent me for a bunch of x-rays. They came back quickly and he gave me a prescription for Naproxen during the day and Cyclobenzaprine for the night. I had literally just got home and was on hold with WSIB when the hospital calls. The radiologist saw something on the X-rays and they want me to come back for a CT Scan. So back I go and get fitted with a lovely neck brace and the paramedics show up and make me get into the stretcher to go to the neighbouring town via. ambulance for the scan. The doctor was explaining to them that “this poor lady was in a car accident on the way to a specialty appointment for her chronic pain and now she has pain on top of her chronic pain.”

Thankfully, nothing was broken or fractured but the pain sucks. I had enough already with my arms but now my neck and upper back have joined in on the party. The receptionist at the hospital was trying not to laugh at me because she knows the hell I have been going thru over the last year with my arms and only in my world would I end up with more crap on my plate.

On the counselling/therapy front: We have decided that CBT is probably the best way to go at this point so we will be beginning that starting next session.

The one small positive over the last month or so … last night I was able to actually follow and retain some information from a very interesting Ted Talk on Neuro Genesis I have not been able to do that in almost a year now. Heck, at the hospital last week I had to write the date and I wrote 19… and stopped, completely confused until I clued in that it was 2018. UGH!

I’d just like a complete do-over of the last year and a half, please.

In My Own Little World

I’ve truly been off in my own little world lately and I haven’t even been able to gather enough motivation to move from my bed over to the desk to try to post something coherent.

I guess I could use the laptop in bed instead of sitting at the PC but then I’d have to unplug it and get a tv table or something and move it all over to my bed and to be completely honest, that seems like way too much effort for me lately.

I finally made it to the desk tonight but all I can seem to do is mindless things like clean out all my spam emails or watch videos. I suppose this isn’t all that different than my time in bed watching TED videos or streaming Netflix while occasionally perusing thru Quora aside from the fact that I’m sitting upright rather than leaning back and being completely comfortable and cocooned in my mass of pillows and blankets.

Speaking of which; that sounds really good right about now and I have only been on the PC for about 30 minutes. While on my previous combination of anti-depressants, my pain at rest had almost gone down to a 1 or zero on a great day.  With this new combination, the pain is back almost all of the time and while I’m not feeling nearly as bad mentally as I did on the previous meds, the pain just acts as a constant reminder of my very uncertain future. I know it could take a while before finding the “right” combination of antidepressants but I’m truly over this and feel like I’m running out of time to have something or anything go right for a change. It’s hard as hell to try to fight depression when you don’t have anything to fight for.

This is the longest and most difficult period of depression that I have ever experienced and the anxiety just adds all that much more fun to the situation *sarcasm*. I am coming up on a year now, mostly because I didn’t have a family doctor, WSIB(workers comp) just kept sending me for assessments rather than getting any meds prescribed, and my emergency room referral to the psychiatrist took 6 months to get in to see him, and I only got a family physician in December. So out of 12 months of depression and anxiety, I have only been medicated for just under 4 months, I have seen a counsellor twice now and both times were more of a get to know me/ask me stupid questions like how can she help me appointments. I have now been referred to the CMHA. They offer help with things like Housing, Education, Court Support, Family Support, Case Management, etc. As much as I currently despise being around people or leaving my house, I need some help or I will be homeless soon. Having not worked and receiving no benefits since May and paying for all of my meds out of pocket has sucked my savings dry.

No, I don’t have friends or family I can rely on aside from my Son and we just won’t go down that route today … Anyways, here is a good TED video to share. Bill Bernat suggests ways to connect with a depressed person.

Absent Again

So I had my appointment with the potential counsellor. It was a 2-hour “assessment” of sorts to see if you require counselling and if you do, the priority of your need.

Basically, it was two hours of telling her about the last year that sent me into this depression which then quickly changed into now give a rundown of all of the shitty things that have happened to you prior to this last year. Do you have a family history of mental illness … oh Lordy, here we go …

“Do you have suicidal thoughts?” “Do you have a plan to kill yourself?” “Do you have homicidal thoughts?” (I was trying desperately to stop thinking in sarcastic answers as this would only get me locked up. I REALLY just wanted to reply, “These stupid questions are making me feel like I wanna punch a bitch in the head, does that qualify?”)

Fast forward to near the end of the appointment and it goes something like this: so now we’ve established your need for counselling, now tell me what I can do to help. What can I do to help you?

Are you fucking kidding me?

Seriously.

If I KNEW how I could be helped I would be doing it already and not sitting in this damn office trying to answer stupid questions that I can not possibly answer. I absolutely loathe the fact that I have hit a wall and I have no choice but to turn to others to help me. No matter how I try, I can’t dig myself out this time.

This is exactly WHY I left outpatient counselling back when I was a teen. If I knew how I could be helped, I wouldn’t need help … what absolute fuckery is that? How can stressing me out more by making me upset that I can’t tell you how to help me going to assist in my recovery. Wouldn’t one already assume that I don’t know HOW to help myself at this point since I’m on anti-depressants and seeing a psychiatrist and my doctor regularly and he’s the one who referred me …

I’ll tell you how.

It won’t! 

My appointment was on Thursday of last week. Friday was the worst day that I have had in the last year. I was honestly prepared to phone my doctor and cave, telling him it’s time for me to be admitted. I have been in a really dark place since my meeting with her and I have to go back next week and let her know “how I’d like to be helped”. UGGGHHHH! I really don’t want to go but I have to hear her out and see what suggestions she makes.

Group therapy was also suggested, Sure, the person who can’t leave their damn house and despises people should go to group therapy. Yep, that’d be just peachy for the others there for sure. When I get really uncomfortable and feel trapped I have one of two reactions: One: I panic. I can’t breathe, my heart races, I get dizzy, and I just want to run away and cry. Two: I turn into the royal bitchy-bitch of asshole island. It’s really luck of the draw as to which one you’ll get, depending on how much stress I have had the week prior. The psychiatrist (lucky him) got the bitchy bitch last meeting we had. I had been to my doctors that week and my former friend kind of dragged me out for the day. While out, I freaked out and had to run out of the store in the middle of standing in the checkout line ’cause I just started to panic – dude behind me was breathing loudly, the old ladies in front were gabbing away, kids were running thru the store and I just couldn’t take it. By the time I forced myself to go to my appointment with the psychiatrist, I had absolutely nothing left to give so automatically shut down and went into protective “screw the world” mode. Funny thing is … this counsellor met me on that day and I was a real bitch to her too. She actually made a comment that it was obvious that I don’t like people. *shakes head* WHY WOULD I WANT GROUP THERAPY?!?!?! 

I swear, I hope these anti-depressants work better. I’ve only been off of the others for 2 days so still have to wait and see. I have to see Mr. HeadDoc in the morning. I can only imagine what the guy thinks of me now. The first appointment I was frustrated and upset, the second appointment I couldn’t stop crying, the third I was a complete bitch, let’s see what the fourth brings.

Appointments

Yesterday I had my monthly appointment with the physician. I have seen more doctors/specialists/head docs etc. in the last year than I had in all of my years prior but that’s not really relevant.

As usual, the doctor asked how I was doing and while I typically respond with, “I’m just living the dream” this time I couldn’t even answer with anything but, “Well, I’m still here …”.

I actually feel bad for my doctor. I’m pretty sure he’s younger than I am and he appears to care about his patients. He agreed to take me on, despite being full and not accepting new clients.  Every time I go in there, I’m a miserable piece of crap and half the time I can’t even speak (I actually wrote him a letter in order to communicate with him!)

I know that he’s worried about me and doesn’t want me to be one of the patients that he loses. Each month we do this little dance where he asks if I am suicidal and I answer him honestly. Then he asks if I have a plan followed by my telling him that I have many but as I have already stated many times; I wouldn’t do that to my son. As long as my son lives with me I will not follow thru on my thoughts. Seriously though, does he really believe that I would answer that question honestly, regardless of whether I have plans or not? I already KNOW that the minute he even remotely considers me to be at risk he will have me committed.

Now usually I wouldn’t be against being hospitalized if it’s absolutely necessary. The thing is, the local hospital does not have a mental health unit. I would be forced to be in a hospital that is a 40-minute drive from here. I would not be able to see my son at all as he does not drive and we don’t have anyone that could drive him to see me. Yes, he is 18 but he’s not quite in a position to be home alone for an extended period of time. Hell, the kid can’t even remember to take the garbage out on garbage night if I fall asleep and am not awake to remind him.

I have my counselling appointment on Thursday and while I’m really not looking forward to it, that information pleased the doc but he was very cautious in making sure that he told me it wouldn’t be a one-session type deal.

We decided that the Duloxetine definitely wasn’t working and that I had certainly given it enough time to (it’s been several months, even with the increases in doses) so he has me ‘weaning off’ of the Duloxetine and starting up on Venlafaxine, he hopes that will help with the anxiety as well and we have more room for dosage increases. I will continue to take the Amitriptyline at night. The top of my dresser looks like a bloody pharmacy right now.

I’m still free to walk the streets for the time being (or hibernate in my home as the case may be – I only leave home for appointments). Hopefully, it remains that way.

 

 

Restless Nights

Okay, this is beyond ridiculous. It’s after 10am and I still haven’t been to sleep. The night before last I fell asleep around 10pm and woke up at 10am. The night before that, I fell asleep at 8am and woke up at 1:30pm, night before that I was up until 4am and up at 10am.

I wouldn’t be so frustrated if I was at least able to use that time to be productive and accomplish something but NOOOOoooooo we can’t have that now, can we? I can’t sleep but I have zero desire to do anything either. Anyone who knows me knows all too well how much I hate wasting time, disorganization, and inefficiency and yet, here I am.

I have probably watched every single TED Talk that relates to Mental Illness, Neuroscience, Brains, and Psychiatry. I guess watching those is being slightly more productive than watching some mindless Netflix drama. I’m not really able to retain any of the information that I’m hearing but I’m trying to trick my brain into kicking back in … I really miss the ‘old’ me. It’s extremely frustrating to have my mind jumping all over the place and struggling just to put together a single coherent thought and I really miss being organized and generally having my shit together.

I wish I had this issue while I was back on night shift, perhaps I wouldn’t have worn myself down so badly that every aspect of my body decided to go on strike leaving me a miserable bitch who can’t leave her house.