Just the back story, for those unaware. I went to one in 2012 for anxiety and panic attacks, and it blew up in my face into a full-scale personal armageddon. Life has never been the same for me, and that in and of itself has been a major trauma to me psychologically. I've been extremely leery of the mental health system ever since - ok, paranoid is a better word. I do however realize it can have value and be helpful ... I just have grave concerns over the potential for abuse within it.
So, the paranoid side of me has said "they'll haul me off and lock me away forever" - kind of like something from some long-gone era of dramatic abuses of the mentally ill. The reality is .. that's not in the cards, at worst, I cop to having suicidal ideas, but nothing that rises to the level where they can "lock me away" short or long term. I know that is paranoia.
So, two years ago, I did a big search and eventually found a psychiatrist who was the opposite of the first one. This one is ... nice, kind, concerned, extremely professional but also personable, just a really good doctor all around. The first one was a real nightmare.
Tomorrow I have an appointment ... and I'm going to walk in there, lay the cards on the table and confess to what I've been doing that isn't working - the game playing of "only discuss the good things" and "be the poster boy for sanity and stability" - the fact that I quit taking the meds she prescribed almost 3 months ago - the fact that I am in a pretty deep depression, with loss of interest, lethergy, sleepy, weight gain, AND anxiety up the wazoo at times, AND the kind of mental confusion "brain fog" that just makes it so hard to function in my job.
In 2012, when I was disagnosed as bipolar, it completely devestated me, and I dramatically overreacted - only way to say it. I thought the mere presence of that diagnostic code in my medical/insurance file would be enough to destroy me.
It has taken a lot of deep conversations with my therapist and a lot of self-questioning and soul searching to get to this point, but ...
I don't really give a rat's *ss what codes show up behind my name in some blue cross file. Nor what prescriptions I have to have filled at some Costco pharmacy.
So, tomorrow I intend to 'fess up, come clean, and ask for some real help, whatever that entails. I know I need to go back on an anti-depressant, and I think a mild anti-anxiety med wouldn't be all bad. And if there is something that helps with the "brain fog" that would be great, too.
So, the paranoid side of me has said "they'll haul me off and lock me away forever" - kind of like something from some long-gone era of dramatic abuses of the mentally ill. The reality is .. that's not in the cards, at worst, I cop to having suicidal ideas, but nothing that rises to the level where they can "lock me away" short or long term. I know that is paranoia.
So, two years ago, I did a big search and eventually found a psychiatrist who was the opposite of the first one. This one is ... nice, kind, concerned, extremely professional but also personable, just a really good doctor all around. The first one was a real nightmare.
Tomorrow I have an appointment ... and I'm going to walk in there, lay the cards on the table and confess to what I've been doing that isn't working - the game playing of "only discuss the good things" and "be the poster boy for sanity and stability" - the fact that I quit taking the meds she prescribed almost 3 months ago - the fact that I am in a pretty deep depression, with loss of interest, lethergy, sleepy, weight gain, AND anxiety up the wazoo at times, AND the kind of mental confusion "brain fog" that just makes it so hard to function in my job.
In 2012, when I was disagnosed as bipolar, it completely devestated me, and I dramatically overreacted - only way to say it. I thought the mere presence of that diagnostic code in my medical/insurance file would be enough to destroy me.
It has taken a lot of deep conversations with my therapist and a lot of self-questioning and soul searching to get to this point, but ...
I don't really give a rat's *ss what codes show up behind my name in some blue cross file. Nor what prescriptions I have to have filled at some Costco pharmacy.
So, tomorrow I intend to 'fess up, come clean, and ask for some real help, whatever that entails. I know I need to go back on an anti-depressant, and I think a mild anti-anxiety med wouldn't be all bad. And if there is something that helps with the "brain fog" that would be great, too.