…he would look like my psychiatrist.
I’ve had a bad week. Bed has been where I have spent most of my time – I’ve not done anything else besides sleep, read the internet on my phone and cuddle up to my dog. I haven’t spent a lot of time playing my favourite MMO (yes, it’s 2015 and I’m finally playing an MMO – Final Fantasy XIV in case anyone is curious!) and generally haven’t done anything remotely enjoyable. I’ve spent a lot of time crying and wishing I wouldn’t wake up.
Luckily for me, my psychiatrist appointment was yesterday. And, unlike my old psychiatrist, he didn’t write me off for being high-functioning. On the contrary, he listened to me, he listened to my Other Half (who has been accompanying me to my psych appointments since the senior consultant made me feel so bad I wanted to walk in front of a car) and acknowledged my reasons for feeling so low. It seemed like I was depressed over nothing, but ever since my mom died, I have had dreams about her and my dad. Over the past six months, these dreams have turned into nightmares and I have been tormented by them.
He acknowledged that I miss my parents, and yet there is also a lot of anger there. The anger I feel at them, because they died and left me here with a personality disorder that is causing me to struggle with life. He didn’t judge me. He didn’t mock me. He listened.
The outcome of the appointment was to up my antidepressants – I am now on venlafaxine 225mg. I am now also off the prochlorperazine, so I’m expecting the post-meds meltdown at some point – coming off antipsychotics is not fun. Then, when I see him again in eight weeks, we’ll be discussing putting me on a mood stabiliser, namely quetiapine. I’d never thought of asking for one before, but I’ve read a few things about BPD and mood stabilisers and it all looks pretty positive.
I felt so much better when I came home. I took my dose and for the first time in a while, I felt like me again. Today, I’ve felt much of the same, writing this and another blog entry, with the drive to do the things I’ve wanted to do for a week now, like changing the bed sheets and washing up. I feel queasy due to the upped dose, but it’s nothing like the crippling misery I’ve felt recently, so I’m sure I’ll manage.
I used to hate the idea of medication, but knowing how much I rely on it to function, I’m glad I stopped being so pensive and allowed myself to see if it worked for me. I’m thankful it has, and I’m hopeful for what the addition of quetiapine may do for me.
(Just as a post-script, there will be no more Sunday Papers posts in future – if I see a link I like, I’ll blog it regardless of the day.)