I left you off with me finding my new psychiatrist. The ladies there are amazing to me. I know if all of these things hadn’t led me to them, I would never have gotten the actual help I need. At my first appointment, they did a swab DNA test to know what medications do and don’t work with my body. Then they gave me a forever long questions/interview. This is when I knew I chose the right place.
After all the questioning was done, I received my updated diagnoses. It included: ADD, BPD, GAD (generalized anxiety disorder), SAD (socialized anxiety disorder), PTSD, and MDD (major depressive disorder) with mixed features. Sigh. Whoah that was so much to realize and accept. I never knew I had all of this. I never knew any different. This was just…….ME.
I was able to be started on some awesome medications. Sadly, this would be another part of the medication roller coaster. I have gone for monthly (3-4 weeks) appointments for almost 2 years to try and figure it out.
Oh yeah. Remember that adderall? I got the DNA test back and it was a HUGE no no for me, as were a few of the meds that I had been prescribed by my PCP. It’s all starting to make sense. I really can’t do SSRI’s.
That was in April of 2019. The next 7 months go by with the same story each appointment. Tweaking here. Tweaking there. Ups and downs of figuring the meds out. I had good times and then I’d have some hard times.
Around October, I started falling again. Just so depressed. More than I’ve ever felt before, but also way different. Before, my depression always felt like a heaviness weighing me down, sad about things, just more than sad. But this felt entirely different. There was no “reason”. There was nothing I could do to feel any sense of peace or comfort. We decided it was bad enough that it was time to go to the hospital again. I needed immediate help that the psychiatrist couldn’t give me that quickly.
Feeling like a burden and failure, I went (again) to the hospital. It was hard. I knew I needed to be there but I worried I’d be judged. I also questioned why no one else has to experience this. The people I see around me are fine and don’t have these demons. Or so I thought. Now I realize it’s a stigma. Everyone has something they’re facing. THIS is why I blog. THIS is why I share all of this intimate information.
Ok, so after that stay and my meds were a little more stable it has been a whirlwind. That was 4 months ago. Right after I was out, we decided to bump my therapist visits up to twice a week. They wanted me to do IOP which is an outpatient group that meets 6 hours a week AND DBT (dialectical behavioral therapy). It would be hard to manage. I had to choose what I could manage in MY life. That’s where twice a week with Vickie came in. She is amazing. She has dug in and gained my trust and listened so much.
A month after I was in the hospital and having talked so much with Vickie about my past, she felt I was BP2 (bipolar type 2). She was amazed she hadn’t even seen it before. I just hadn’t shared the right information. After pushing at the psychiatrists office, they finally agreed I was bipolar. I had been asking for months because I felt that’s what I had. So add that to all of the other diagnoses.
There is more for me to do a part 3, so I leave you here. I leave you with hope and support that there’s help. There’s always help, it just may take time.
Roses are Red 