When I saw Dr Nutkins-May back in February, he promised that he would set some bits in motion to get me more help, monitor my new meds and generally have a bit more communication. Well, I phoned up this week to see if he would prescribe me the higher dosage that I started taking myself – not only did he do so without much of a conversation, but I found out that my next appointment is in June.
Granted, it’s May and only a month away, but that would make it another three months between appointments. AGAIN. I’m seriously fed up. I’m now ‘officially’ on 50mg of lamotrigine a night, and I’ve made an appointment with my GP to lower the dose of venlafaxine from 225mg back down to 150mg. It’s either I take it into my own hands, or risk getting in a really bad state again. I mean, it’s pretty messed up that I had to chase up a change in dose of lamotrigine. I’ve heard nothing about therapy or anything like it, no word about any APN or CPN access, sweet fuck all. Feeling pretty let down once again by the people who are supposed to be helping me.
I’m doing better since I started the higher dose, aside from having an upset on Friday night when a friend
said something pretty harsh out of a bad mood – I’d usually give the silent treatment for as long as I could, but I know that doesn’t actually solve anything in the long run. I’m still pretty pissed about it, but I’ll live. He won’t apologise either way, that’s just how he is. I’m back on plan with Slimming World and I’ve had a pretty easygoing week.
We went to see Captain America: Civil War last night, which was fucking awesome! I have a lot of love for Bucky. I can’t help it, he’s damaged and gorgeous. Of course I don’t have a type, I have no idea what you’re talking about…