I’m back home from the hospital again. I was supposed to come home on Monday. For the first time ever, I was completely honest and told the doctor that I didn’t think I was ready to go home. I think if I had done this last time I was in the hospital, I wouldn’t have bounced back so quickly.
To backtrack… last week Wednesday, I saw my psychiatrist. She’s not dumb. Dr. W knew something was up. And yup, as usual, I was severely suicidal. Together we decided that it was a good idea to check in for a couple days (or a week as the case was).
My dad happened to drive me that day because I wasn’t 100% sure of where I was going. I had Dr. W explain what was going on because I had pretty much reached a nonverbal state. When the chat was finished my dad asked to speak with her privately. I wish I had put a stop to that. But hey, nonverbal.
My dad wouldn’t tell me what he asked her. So I pretty much let it go and subsequently forgot about it.
On Thursday, after being discharged Wednesday night, I saw Dr. D. I told her what had happened. I guess once she got my message about being in the hospital, she called Dr. W to see what had been going on. Dr. W told Dr. D what transpired with my dad. Apparently, he told Dr. W that I had accused him of abuse and it was patently false. So now I know. I was so shocked, I didn’t know what to feel. Never again will I let him speak to someone from my treatment team. It’s none of his damn business. I’m relieved to know that Dr. D believes me. I’m not sure what Dr. W will say. I’ll find out this coming Wednesday. I’m not looking for ward to that, that’s for sure.
But now I know…
It’s definitely not an easy drug to live with. I’m tired all the time. I’m lucky if I make it 20 minutes on my walk because I just want to climb back in bed. Therapy is draining enough as it is without adding bone numbing tiredness into the mix.
Unfortunately, based on what I said today in Dr. D’s office, I won’t be coming off it any time soon. If I try to go down a bit the voices come roaring back. On the dosage I’m on now, they’re simply a dull roar.
On top of the fatigue, I grind my teeth and clench my jaw. That’s resulted in some TMJ type stuff going on. Next Monday I have an appointment at the local dental school to evaluate one tooth for another root canal and the TMJ. I’m taking Cogentin for this, but it only really works well up to my previous dosage of Haldol. It doesn’t do so well on this higher one.
Thankfully I see Dr. W about all this on Wednesday. I don’t know what she’ll change. I know the one thing I want changed in antidepressants. I take Cymbalta for pain. That’s nonnegotiable. But the Celexa has to go. It’s doing nothing as far as I can tell.
As usual, the med go round goes round and round and round and… well, you get the point.
This is what life feels like right now.
I talked to Dr. W yesterday. The voices are pretty bad right now. She tried to increase the Haldol once before and that led to such horrible jaw clenching that I had to go down plus start taking Cogentin with it regularly. Now, given my symptoms, she feels I should go back up and she increased the Cogentin too.
I feel like I’ve been on this ride for so many years. And I’m going round and round. I’m actually dizzy when I sit down and look at my med list. I doesn’t help my list when you factor in the fibromyalgia diagnosis.
I see Dr. W next week. We’ll see where the med-go-round stops then.
I went to the dentist today because I’ve been having jaw pain. It’s most likely TMJ from clenching my jaw and grinding my teeth. Yay. Just add it to the list of crap in my life.
The reason for the title is that I’m a huge wuss. I hate going to the dentist. I’m down right phobic, actually. I ended up getting a referral to the local dental school to check out a root canal I had a while back. She also filled a small cavity. I hate the balloon lip feeling I get from the Novocaine. I’ll eat some mac and cheese for dinner because mac and cheese always makes me feel better.
So, next week I go in for a cleaning. In theory, that is. I haven’t decided if I’m going to keep the appointment. Phobias are irrational things. And even through I know it’s only a cleaning, that doesn’t always help. Maybe I’ll talk to Dr. D about it tomorrow. Sigh.
I feel empty in side. I can’t say I even feel depressed anymore because that would involve, well, feeling. I feel nothing now. I want to bury my head in the sand, hopefully suffocating on the sand while I’m at it. Seriously, all I want to do is sleep. I guess it could be the days getting shorter. More though, I think, is exhaustion. It literally takes too much energy to feel anything but nothing.
On the other hand, nothingness is a feeling. Or isn’t it? Is the lack of feeling like I’ve been assuming feel nothing or not? It all sounds very philosophical.
The trip to see the new rheumatologist. Well, that was a bust. Again, a diagnosis of fibromyalgia. Nothing auto-immune, though I wonder if she was just blowing me off. So I go back to original rheum and deal with her. I wish I could say that I wasn’t taken seriously, but I guess I was. I don’t know anymore. I’m so tired of fighting the pain. She did change the anti-inflammatory I’m on. She took me off the Meloxicam and put me on something called Nabumetone. Never heard of it, but it seems to be in the same class as Meloxicam and their ilk.
Thankfully today was a light day. I needed that. Even though it was fairly light, I think it gave Dr. D a good deal of information about my late teens and early 20s. There was a lot of talk about college and grad school. I did touch on James, but I think she knew it wasn’t a good time. And in retrospect she was right. I don’t think I could have handled dealing with that full force.
Actually, the reason I brought up James was sexuality. I have no feeling for men or women. I’m not even sure if I know what love is. It’s all very confusing.
In retrospect, I’m glad she turned the conversation away from the topic. I think the look on my face was enough coupled with the fact I was already struggling and feeling quite down.
I think that’s all I’m going to blog about today. There was other stuff that went on in that hour, but I’m not ready to put them out there for public consumption. I need some more energy to deal with that than I have right now.
I wish I knew what to say about today. We touched on a lot, including some anger I’ve been feeling lately. I’m not comfortable with anger. It scares me. I’m afraid of being out of control like my mother. And I know rationally that it’s silly. I’m not my mother. I’ve been told by multiple psychologists that I’m not a borderline like my mother.
Therapy leaves me exhausted. If I didn’t have to do grocery shopping and pick up a prescription (that the psychiatrist neglected to leave for me after she said she would) I would have come home and taken a nap. Which, in fact, I did after driving to the doctor’s office and the grocery store. I tried reading, but couldn’t keep my eyes open.
I’m trying to challenge those automatic thoughts. But that’s turning out to be one of the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s like trying to learn to drive a stick after driving an automatic for years. But I’m trying. And I guess that’s the thing that counts.
I’ve gotta say, Dr. D is good. She really patient. She doesn’t feel the need to cover up the painful silences with talk. She’ll let me sit for a bit with those uncomfortable feelings. It’s hard, there’s no denying that. However, this is the first time I’ve had that experience. Feeling the emotions, raw and uncensored, isn’t the easiest thing in the world. I’m hoping that maybe it gets better as time goes on.
hugged your inner child today?
Creating a Dialogue With Your Inner Young Child
From: Cathryn L. Taylor M.A. The Inner Child Workbook
1. What is her favorite food?
Fried chicken. But only her grandmother’s chicken.
2. What is the activity she would most like to do?
Read. She could read all day and all night.
3. Has she done this before? Is so , what happened? If not, ask why.
She reads all the time. Her favorite book is still Green Eggs and Ham. But now she can read it on her own.
4. Ask her to tell you about her fear of being blamed and criticized or of doing or saying something wrong.
She is always afraid of doing something wrong. She’s terrified she’ll bring home a bad mark on a school paper even though she’s only in Kindergarten. She’s terrified that she’ll be taken to the orphanage for real this time. She’s afraid of messing up her dances. She doesn’t want to disappoint Miss R.
5. Does she feel overly responsible? Why?
Always. B was just born. She’s supposed to take care of him when mom is drunk.
6. What does she need most from you?
She needs me to understand that she wasn’t a bad kid. She was a good kid in a bad situation.
I’m exhausted now. I’ll try to finish the remaining questions in the near future.
I saw my therapist last week. I had been in so much pain, I was afraid to drive. So, unfortunately, I had to ask my dad to drive me.
Instead of staying in the car or running errands, he decided to come into the office with me. I was not pleased, but mostly I was scared that the therapist would want to have him in the session. Irrational? Probably. But who ever said fear was logical?
So he’s sitting there when Dr. D called me in. I saw this look in her eyes. I almost freaked out. I apologized that he was there and explained my fears. She reassured me that no, she would make us have a joint session. She actually said when she saw him she wanted to punch him. That made me laugh. But it scared me too. I don’t know why.