In today’s #RandyTales, our hero talks about swinging… not that kind, but I like the way you think…
As I was sitting in my therapist’s office discussing my latest breakdown, he asked me “you haven’t called the psychiatrist yet have you.”
“Uh…” I replied.
“Why don’t we do that right now before you come up with another reason to NOT call them.”
Seriously this man working hard for his money.
(Sidenote: some people have asked for my therapist’s info, which I respectfully decline to give. Hell, I have only said his name twice unidentally. He has no connection to anyone reading this and only a peripheral connection to anyone you would know. I like having that level of protection when I am talking about people. I do have a couple of other referrals, but I am being selfish with this one.)
I was able to get into the psychiatrist a few days later. His office is near the mental hospital, which is just a genius move. I met him and we sat down to talk for an hour. Most of that was giving him the TL;DR of the last few years. He asked questions and I clarified some points.
His initial diagnosis is bi-polar with anxiety.
I had already determined – in spectacular fashion – the anxiety. I had to sit with that “bi-polar” for a few minutes. My father was bi-polar. I have known a lot of other people who were successfully treating their bi-polar, however my father is still what I associate with that label – which was untreated and undiagnosed. The swings… he could go from minister to monster in the blink of an eye.
Was that me?
Maybe?
As I started digging into this diagnosis, I saw the hallmarks of that particular flavor of mental health. Those swings my father had? I see those. They definitely don’t look like his did, but come on! When have I EVER presented ANYTHING that looks like it should? Looking at the DSM-V and myself through that lens, I could start check off the symptoms. All of them matched… even the ones I won’t talk about anywhere.
Okay – we have a diagnosis and now we move to meds. I like this new shrink because he LISTENED TO HIS PATIENT. “Why would I prescribe you SSRIs when you’re telling me that SSRIs – in your mind – led to a suicide attempt and would if you were bipolar and not just depressed?” So we talked mood stabilizers and agreed on the one that isn’t Seraquil. Nothing against those who are benefited by it… but I haven’t heard anyone say they benefited from that one. We also talked about non-benzo anxiety meds. Plus, your favorite grumpy mythical being will be less grumpy with a sleeping pill.
That was three week ago. Three weeks of being properly treated and medicated. There has been a visible improvement in my mood swings. I’m not going to the extremes that I did before. There are still moments when I’m a little too far in one direction or the other. And that’s where the anxiety pills come in and bring me back closer to center. I’m still not sleeping well, but that is the one pill I am still fighting because… well, I’m still me.
It is going to take a few more months to get everything setttled, which puts me at about SNRG. That’s going to be a test, but it isn’t a new test. I know what I need to do and avoid. Because I’m having to learn a lot of lessons again, but with new skills to reframe things. And learning to use these swings to my advantage. Because even this new diagnosis is a tool.
I wish it weren’t true, but it does have to hurt if it is to heal.