Missing the Meds

This post really isn't about what I went through but what I am going through right now.  This post is about what all Mental Health clients go through.  Just like everything else, it is the system that is broken not the individual people in it.  Well, not all people.

For the past two and a half years, since recovering from the debilitating depression after cancer, I have fought to get a new counselor at my clinic.  When I first arrived at the clinic over 7 years ago I was struggling.  I wasn't comfortable with the person I was sitting across from and when I asked for a new one I was assigned to Jason.  Making a long story a little bit shorter, I was diagnosed with cancer at the same time he was leaving the clinic.  They put me back with the original counselor.

I was so sick when the change was made that I didn't fight it.  The years past, I got better and I was sitting across a person who made me angry.  There is a rule in our clinic that you have to arrive 10 minutes early to be seen.  She would make me wait 20 minutes past the appointment time and my blood would boil.  My time is very important to me.  I advocated for myself and asked for a new counselor.  I was met with, "Well, the entire team would have to meet to discuss it" and "there is no guarantee you will like the new counselor".  I am thinking that the chances of liking the new counselor compared to her would be very high.  I pride myself on being a nice person but I just didn't like her, at all.

I stopped going to my appointments.  It was a stupid thing to do.  I could of sworn that the psychiatrist said I could just make an appointment with him to get my medications.  I was wrong and they kicked me out.  They were kind enough to give me one more appointment with the psychiatrist who just took over my own assigned psychiatrist.  He looks at my list of medications and says, "You don't have to be on Lamictal and Seroquel at the same time.  The studies show that there are long term side effects with the Seroquel."  Sam's prescriber has told me this and we are reducing the Seroquel for Sam.  I didn't make the connection that I might be true for me also.

Again, trying my best to make a long story a little shorter, I fought for a new counselor so I could see this particular psychiatrist so I could lower my Seroquel.  That makes sense, right?  This guy told me something that made me very nervous and I wanted to change it so I would feel more comfortable about my medical situation.  I asked an advocate to go with me and at the time of the appointment and she was a little late.

What happened at this appointment floored me.  I sat down and there were two people,  the bad cop and the good cop.  The bad cop asked me why I didn't like my counselor.  What was I supposed to say?  I felt cornered and I asked to wait for my advocate.  I tried to talk and all that came out was, "I don't like her."
"Why don't you like her?"  What was I supposed to say, "Ummm, because I think she is a b@#%."  That was the entire problem really.  I didn't like her attitude.  I didn't like how she made me wait 30 minutes to see her.  I thought it was rude.  That was really what I should of said but I panicked and said, "I don't like the way she sits.  I don't like the way she talks."  I was going into fight or flight and I was becoming panic stricken and I was finding it hard to breath.  It was this exact moment that the advocate came in out of breath apologizing all over the place.  I got up, hugged her and told her how thankful I was that she was there.

After deliberating my wishes, the good cop said, "It seems to me that you have had to fight for everything you have ever had."  The good cop got me and I received a new counselor.  The deal was that if I missed one appointment I was out.  They also told me that I would have to get a couple of months of medications from my primary doctor.  I was also told that I wouldn't be able to see the same psychiatrist who said he would help me get off the Seroquel.

A couple of weeks passed and I talked with my primary doctor and she prescribed my medications.  I wasn't 100% positive on the dose of the one and I told her I would call her nurse.  I have a horrible time with procrastination and I forgot to call.

I have had two appointments with my new counselor and she said it would be months to see a new psychiatrist.  She also said that she isn't sure I need therapy. WHAT?  I don't need therapy?  UMMM, I am living this life with Autism and the stressors are enouth to kill.  Stress is a killer right?  Am I missing something?  I was talking and I was saying that I finally have friends and that makes me happy.  The counselor said that maybe I didn't need therapy and I could share my problems with my friends.  WHAT?  Share my problems with my friends?  What friend wants to be dumped on again and again.  True, my friends are phenomenal listeners but geez, really?  When I was sick all those years undiagnosed with Bipolar they got sick of me and dumped me.  I don't blame them.  Now that I am healthy aren't you supposed to get rid of the unhealthy ones who bring you down?  She also told me I didn't have Bipolar.  It was all normal stressors.  I have been hospitalized so many times from talking myself off my medications.  People with Bipolar are the most likely to take themselves off their medications.  It is a researched fact.

All I am thinking is, "Why am I staying here?"  There are many reasons why I will stay and it all resolves around my safety.  I was once admitted to an emergency room for restless leg syndrome and they put me in the psych ward.  This was about a year ago.  They called the counselor that I didn't like.  The one that I missed all of those appointments and they almost didn't let me out.  True story.  This situation also led me to be interrogated by Child Protective Service for three months.

This all leads me to today.  I procrastinated to call my primary about the other medication.  Procrastination is one of my goals that I want to work on with my therapist.  I woke up shaking, scared out of my mind, and I new that the Bipolar was kicking in because I have been off the one med for a couple of weeks.  I was just thinking yesterday that I was feeling great and maybe I didn't need it.  "Yeah, I don't have Biplar", I say sarcastically.

I called my primary doctor and talked to the nurse.  I told the nurse to tell the doctor how sorry I was that I procrastinated.  I asked her if she wouldn't mind if she could hurry because I wasn't feeling well.  I love my doctor.  I wish my doctor was my therapist.  Oh well.

I believe that the number one reason I should be allowed to continue to receive therapeutic services is to stay well.  If I am not well, there is almost a certain guarantee that I would loose Sam.  Having a psychiatric diagnosis is grounds for losing custody of your child.  I know because when Sam was little I sat in a court of Law fighting for my right to raise Sam.  I won.  I was also well at the time.

Definition of Mental

1. a: of, relating to, or being intellectual as contrasted with overt physical activity.

2. a: of, relating to, or affected by a psychiatric disorder <mental patient>.

b: mentally disordered, mad, crazy.

I choose being an intellectual as my definition of being mental.

*The photo that I use for my background was taken by Sam.