Going From Bad To Worse - Part 1
Wednesday, November 18, 2009 - 12:14 PM Almost everything in my life seems to be going from bad to worse. Although I have tried figuring out exactly what it is that is causing most of my problems, I am unable to pinpoint any one specific thing. I have managed to reach one conclusion though; I feel as though I am causing some of my own problems. During the last several months, I have noticed that my depression has gone from bad to worse. I do not want to do anything, go anywhere, or be around many people. All I really want to do is sleep, and I cannot even seem to do much of that. Simply put, I have lost almost all my interests, and do not want to do much of anything. When I first began feeling this way, I decided on my own that my antidepressants were not working as well as they used to, so I took it upon myself to stop using them almost entirely. I now know that it was a mistake to do that, especially without talking it over with my therapists or my psychiatrist first. I finally came to this realization yesterday. My boycott of antidepressants began at least five or six months ago. I know it was that long ago because I had amassed five bottles of medications during that period (I get one bottle of medicine, for each prescription, each month). After looking at the bottles for a while, I finally concluded that it would be best to throw them out. That might have been okay if I had not gone to the pharmacy and gotten refills each month even though I did not need them. Two or three weeks ago, I went to the mental health pharmacy and got refills on four of my medications. Since I had enough medication at home to last for a while, I did not open or look at any of the pills I had gotten from the pharmacy until earlier this week. When I did open the package, I quickly saw that there were two different kinds of Depakote there. One was kind of an orange color, and the other was white. I automatically knew that something was not quite right. Both of the medicines were entirely different from the Depakote I usually take. I was unable to see my mental health therapist on Monday due to some more snow that we received during the weekend. In spite of that, I was able to talk with him by phone. While we were talking, I told him about the different kinds of Depakote that I had received and asked if he could do something about it. He said that he would talk with some of the nurses and have one of them get back to me. He carried through on that promise, and someone called me yesterday afternoon. I tried explaining to the nurse about the problem with the Depakote. I told her that I now had three different types of it, and that I only wanted the first one, which I had been accustomed to taking. Our conversation took some unexpected twists and turns, and I soon found myself admitting to the nurse that I had all but stopped taking the Depakote, along with the Wellbutrin, altogether. She wanted to know why I would keep getting refills of medicines that I no longer used. The real reason was that I was afraid of being yelled at by my psychiatrist for not taking them. I tried explaining some of my reasoning to her (not about that fear), but by then the damage had been done. She noted that I was not scheduled to see my psychiatrist until January 26, and said that she thought I should see him sooner than that. She would like me to see him as soon as possible. Well, what she wants, and what I want, are two entirely different things. As of today, I am not inclined to let her get her way. I am seeing Dr. Martin this afternoon, and intend to discuss my situation with her. Maybe she will have some suggestions about what I should do, or will at least be able to help me start thinking properly again. I am not exactly sure what is wrong with me, but a lot of things seem to be out of whack. The nurse I spoke with yesterday was extremely nice with me. However, at various times in our conversation, I had this feeling that I was being scolded much as a parent might scold a child. I was upset then, and still feel that way now. For whatever reasons, I am also hurt, angry, and afraid. (I have a feeling that some of this may go back to the way I was treated when I was a child.) A few other things are going on in my life, but I think it will be best if I put off telling about those until another day.