Last night my daughter had a nightmare. She’s only five, and nightmares are scary, so she woke up and started screaming for Mum.
I only know about this because my partner told me this morning.
‘Drowsiness’ doesn’t even start to cover what I’m like at night. I can’t be so out of it that I can’t wake up when my baby needs me. I can live with a whole lot of problems with meds, as long as it’s just me they’re hurting. Not when they affect my family. That’s a step too far.
So I did what I’m supposed to do if I’m having trouble – I contacted Mental Health. I don’t have a psych appointment scheduled, because I complained about the psychiatrist I saw last time, after he would not listen when I told him that this medication had side effects that I couldn’t tolerate. As a result, I’m in psychiatrist limbo.
My case manager is on holiday this week, so I was given another name to ask for if I needed anything. And I needed something. I need my brain back.
He told me that the psych that made me feel an inch tall was a good doctor, that he’s worked with for a long time. He told me that I could get in to see that doc on Monday. He said that if I didn’t want to see him that there was nothing he could do, and I could maybe try on Monday when my case manager gets back.
When I told him I felt trapped, because I was not going back to that psych and there were no other options, he told me I was not trapped because I could go to that psych. When I tried to tell him that I could not tolerate these meds any more, he told me that they were good meds. That because I wasn’t glued-to-the-couch depressed, they were working. That the doctor knew what he was doing when he put me on them. I felt like my complaints were trivial, compared to the depression I was feeling. That at least I wasn’t suicidal any more.
The truth is, I don’t feel the empty misery and suicidal thoughts. Instead, the problems I’m having are so debilitating that I’d rather die than carry on. Instead of passive wanting to die, I actively don’t want to keep living the way I am right not.
The options feel like they are: change the ‘way it is’, or change the ‘living’. But I’m struggling to find the support to change the way I’m living. All it takes is a doc to listen and try something new. Is that too much to ask?