The hummingbird is napping right now which is a miracle and I’m watching Lost In Translation for the 20,000th time this month so I have time to write a
very long and boring post.
Last week I mentioned how exhausted I am because the little hummingbird has been battling bedtime for months. Only a day or two after I wrote that, she’s been getting better. She still can put up a fight but not the ginormous ones that can last 2-3 hours. I always think if I write about something I’ll jinx it and make it worse but it actually seems to make things better, not always but most of the time. Just like when I was wanting to kill my hubby over petty things. After I vented about it, things improved.
Hmmm…..I would love to have Johnny Depp and/or Mark Ruffalo appear in my living room and give me a back massage……………damn, it didn’t work.
Another reason I’m so freaking exhausted and haven’t been posting as much is because I’m finally on an antidepressant. You may or may not have read that my primary doctor was being an asshole when it came to helping me with the depression I’ve been going through as well as anxiety and panic attacks.
There were 12 psychiatrists I would have been able to pick from and go to but they’re in the same practice at the local hospital and since they’re overloaded with patients, they will give a consultation and put you on meds if necessary but they need a primary doctor involved with monitoring the meds and my doctor refused.
I’ve said in another post how confusing it was because when my hubby and I lived here previously, I had the same doctor and he had no problem prescribing these meds. I was told by a member of his staff recently, who was working at my doctor’s office back when I lived here 5 years ago, that he has never prescribed antidepressants or anti-anxiety meds. Huh?
When we moved back here last summer I was thinking about trying a different doctor but decided to go with the one I had before because I thought he would give me the help if I needed it. Big mistake. I still can’t change primary doctors right now because nobody is accepting my insurance.
The anxiety I’ve had has been building up for nearly 2 years and then last fall it turned into depression. I wasn’t even going to mention it on my blog but I talk about everything else on here. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of taking meds because when I’ve been on antidepressants in the past, I get the worst side effects. But then I figured I’d rather feel zombie-ish and exhausted than cry at the drop of a hat. Of course depression is exhausting anyway.
Things are different now since I have my 2-year-old hummingbird so I can’t lay in bed all day, crying and feeling crappy like I had done when I went through depression pre-hummingbird. I also figured that since I’ve been trying to resolve this on my own for the past couple of years and it wasn’t working, I knew I had to give meds another try.
I know that therapy is a really important part of dealing with this and I’m still trying to find a psychologist but it’s been difficult since my insurance has pissed off so many providers.
I finally found a psychiatrist who doesn’t require any monitoring by my primary doctor but when I googled him and read some of his reviews, my heart sank. I know people are going to have many different opinions about doctors but when I read several that said things like avoid this doctor at all costs I thought effity eff.
I really don’t have any other options though so I’m stuck with this guy. When I called for the first appointment, they made it very clear that he doesn’t do any psychotherapy, he only does medication. My husband tried to look on the bright side and keeps on telling me that at least I’m on meds but last week was really bad and when I went to see this psychiatrist, who I’ve dubbed Dr. So Called “Doctor”, it sucks that he’s so cold and I was really needing to talk some things out. I’m still checking my insurance so if another psychiatrist becomes available, I hope to switch.
The best way I can describe him is if he was a lawyer, he would no doubt be an ambulance chaser. When I go to see him, I’m in his office less than 5 minutes. He has this huge wooden desk and a few chairs to his right side. I basically just sit there while he goes over my file and he asks me to come back the same time next week, gives me an appointment card, and writes down how many med samples I need that I then give to his receptionist who goes and gets them. He’s waiting to see what dosage I need with the meds before he prescribes them. At least that’s what I hope he’s doing.
While I’m sitting there in silence while he reads my file, I stare at his shoes. He has these shoes that look really tight on his feet and buckle on the side but they’re never buckled. I see him in the late afternoon so maybe his shoes bug him by the end of the day but all I can look at are his unbuckled shoes and wonder why in the hell doesn’t he just get another pair of shoes. It looks like he takes his shoes, stretches them out as far as they will go, and even has the tongue of his shoes sticking up so his shoes look like they have a boner.
I’ve suffered for fashion before although not for years. I live in yoga pants and flip-flops but from what I’ve seen, he could care less about fashion. My hubby and I talk about Dr. So Called “Doctor” and his unbuckled shoes after every appointment. For the rest of the day I wonder about this guy’s freaking shoes. Is it the only pair he owns? Do they give him super powers? Are they permanently stuck on his feet?
The so called “doctor” has me on an antidepressant and also an anti-anxiety med to take as needed. As shady as this “doctor” seems and as much as I don’t like him, I wanted to cry tears of joy when he said he’s giving me an anti-anxiety med. I’ve been having horrible panic attacks (not that panic attacks are ever a joy to have), sometimes two a day, and knowing I have something just in case makes me feel better. It’s like a placebo effect.
Since I’ve only been on the meds a couple of weeks, I’m still getting used to them so my mind is kind of loopy
which is really nothing new and they make my brain feel fuzzy. I have no idea how else to describe it except feeling fuzzy.
So, to make another short story really long which is what I do best, this is why I haven’t been posting that often. I’m sure soon enough I’ll be posting my usual crazy nonsense (I’ve just started a post about this wheelbarrow guy in my neighborhood who’s probably a serial killer and possibly burying people by our house and another about pain in the ass cupcakes. I know, riveting stuff.) but right now when I try to write, I end up staring at a blank screen with the cursor going blink, blink, blink.
I’m having moments where I’m starting to feel a little more like myself but I know it’s going to be a long process. I’m looking forward to finding a therapist because I know that will make me feel so much better. I’ve been to a few therapists in the past and I’ve been really lucky when it comes to having great ones.
The last therapist I went to taught me different ways to deal with anxiety but when I’m in the middle of a panic attack, it’s really hard for me to use what she taught me since my thoughts become irrational. Anxiety is my biggest issue and if it gets to be too much, it ends up turning into depression if I let it go on for too long.
Having depression and anxiety is hell and it’s like you’re a prisoner in your own body but I’m hoping in the near future, I’ll be feeling much better.
I promise in my next post I won’t even mention the D word or ponder why this “doctor” won’t buckle his only pair of super power shoes that are stuck on his feet.