I went to see a shrink again last week because the anxiety was increasing and affecting my sleep and also because I kept bursting into tears simply trying to update my resume… (still not done and terrified to look at it yet unable to close the effing file).
So yeah, my thought was that I needed to get anti-anxiety meds but I didn’t want to go into my whole medical and family history and previous psych experiences because I just felt that they’d end up seeing patterns that I don’t necessarily accept as true, plus my dad having bipolar and my dislike of medication coupled with my “few very good years” followed by these lows just sounds like it’s begging for a bipolar diagnosis to me. To be clear, I’m not saying that I necessarily think I have bipolar or even depression, but I’m very very sure that that’s what the half-assed doctors would say within a heartbeat.
Anyway, so I went very reluctantly and just being there was giving me panic attacks, not just cuz it was a crowded waiting room of the psych wing in a government hospital… but also because lying doesn’t come at all easily to me and the more stressed I get, the harder it is to keep my lies straight so the thought of that whole vicious cycle was terrifying me.
Turns out they made me tell my story to a third-year medical student who was basically a clueless, rather nice kid and she seemed slightly let down that my story wasn’t juicier. But anyhow, she was easy enough to lie to and so I gave a hodge-podge version of truths from the last couple of years but blanket lies about the past.
Then they made me see the actual doctor (except it turns out she’s not even – just a medical officer -____-). Anyway, she was so not interested and very easily prescribed me lexapro, xanax and sleeping pills. She didn’t bother asking if I was suicidal or anything much except for whether I “hear voices” -___________- So I asked her about side effects, saying that I’d been told side effects with ADs can be really bad.
She goes, “well you may have suicidal thoughts, nausea, giddiness, palpations when you first start but it should wear off once you get used to it. That’s why we’re starting you on a low dose first.”
FFS, this is the thing with ADs that’s the worst. The side effects are just as bad (if not WORSE) than the actual problem. This is the most unconscionable aspect of the so-called mental healthcare system (mental illness system is more accurate) that really bugs me, though there’s many other things to hate about the whole damn thing.
But I didn’t say anything, I took them and left, all in a daze. I read up on lexapro over the next few days and nothing I read made me feel better about taking it – even though there were always a few immensely successful stories amidst the doom and gloom of SE suffered by most. Nothing has really changed my mind convincingly enough to make me start taking it, but it’s getting harder to resist with each day.
I’m increasingly lonely, disconnected and anxious about how I will manage to have a future if things don’t change. I need to apply for work but I truly cannot fathom sending my resumes out anywhere, let alone getting through an interviews. Which means that working in an actual company is unthinkable. But then what? I take these meds and chances are I’m going to be zombiefied, lethargic, humourless. Surely that’s not going to be very helpful for a job interview or office?
Damned if you don’t, damned if you do.
The funny thing is, there’s still weed. It still works, even if it’s not great but I definitely feel at least a bit better and generally it really works enough to make me wake up feeling decent for a few hours. But somehow I’m still afraid to do it more often. Like, I’ve not tried to smoke up and see if I can finalise my resume and maybe do some job-hunting. I think it comes from this very strong notion that weed is all about slacking off and you aren’t quite in control and it could lead to poor decisions, etc. So as much as I’m an advocate for weed over almost every other kind of drug, I’m still damn cautious in my usage.
So here we are, I’m 31 and unhappy with a choice between lexapro or (more) weed. Part of me is like, dude WTF this isn’t even a contest, go toke right now FFS. The other part of me is like, there’s something seriously wrong with you and you aren’t helping things by trying to keep avoiding it.
But I’ve said before that life need not be about binaries. So there’s a third (and fourth, fifth etc but I’m losing focus already) option at any given moment which in this case is obviously to play around with a combo of the two if need be, or to give myself the leeway to go back and forth if that makes sense but also to always remember that I can stop these things if and when I need to and/or try other options as things go along.
I don’t know, though. I’m so scared to start meds when I’m so alone. My housemate isn’t even coming home these days and she told me today she’s gonna move out this month instead of in June 😦 i guess it’s because our friendship ended badly over some shit she pulled but instead of fixing it, she’s just gonna move back to her parents, because she’s got a ton of others friends.
But I don’t.
I don’t have any left, actually. That’s really, truly the facts. I don’t speak to my family members about anything remotely real plus I barely speak to any of them at all now, other than my aunt (which is purely 100% about her difficulties caring for my uncle these days) and one brother (in connection to helping out said aunt with said uncle…) so yeah.
I’m worried about the side effects being worse this time. And here’s the truth: a part of me is terrified that this time it’s going to unleash bipolar symptoms which have maybe been somewhat dormant all this while….. and then what? i mean, i’m alone and no one gives a fuck and i might do something really stupid.
i don’t want to be alone 😦 i suck at being around people but this is getting terrifying.