Monthly Archives: June 2010
Psychiatrist Appointment III
My motivator: I need to go, I need to get my prescription, otherwise I will run out of my medication. This was my incentive to go see Dr T, my psychiatrist, today.
And so, I find myself back in the waiting room of her office. Except this time, I’m not the only one waiting to be seen. This time, there are three other people. A mother, waiting for the conclusion of her daughter’s appointment with Dr T. Two females, perhaps another a mother-daughter couple, waiting to see the clinical psychologist who also practices in the Specialist Center. Incidentally, this is the same psychologist Dr T is wanting to refer me to. Thus, I was able to catch a glimpse of who she is, what she looks like. She seems nice. Friendly. Middle aged, not too old and not too young. I could imagine myself feeling comfortable talking to her. Despite the fact that upon dialing her number to enquire about making an appointment and leaving a message, she never did call me back.
On the commencement of our session, Dr T asks me whether I have been taking my medication. Yes. Yes I have, daily, 10mg as per instruction, no overdoses, no underdoses, I have been compliant. She enquires about any side effects. No, not really… She asks whether I have felt any positive effects yet. Umm, I’m not sure… No, unless you count feeling numb and devoid of emotion as ‘positive.’
I am questioned as to whether I have made an appointment with the psychologist yet. Umm, no, not yet… If I recall correctly, you told me you would follow it up with G why she failed to return my call? Judging from her question and the fact that my phone has stayed silent, I’m guessing she has forgotten. It has now been twenty five days since I first made the phone call to the psychologist. Yes, I counted. I’m thinking I should call her a second time. Simultaneously I am hesitant, talking on the telephone fills me with anxiety and fear. I loathe making phone calls. Furthermore, I don’t want to seem bothersome or pushy by phoning up to request an appointment yet again.
An hour of seemingly pointless conversation about my parents, about my friendships and social anxiety, about why I overdosed in April, and we reach the end of the session.
Dr T then writes me a script for the Lexapro. She tells me she is increasing the dose from 10mg and from now on wants me to take 20mg daily. Oh. Okay then. Last appointment she told me she was going to keep me at a low dose of 10mg for now and there was no need to increase the dosage just yet. I wonder what changed her mind?
I have my next appointment with her in a month’s time, and then two week gaps thereafter. I heard the girl before me making an appointment for every couple of months. Err, can I see you that [in]frequently?
Grateful For The Good Times
It’s coming home from a night out with my friends that I realise how much others take for granted, people who don’t struggle with a mental illness or indeed with going out and social situations in general.
When I’m in the depths of depression, I tend to isolate myself. I lack motivation to attend social gatherings. I cease to make an effort to keep in contact with my friends. My social anxiety stops me from making the first move. As a consequence, my invitations become less and less. It then reaffirms my belief no one wants to bother with me, I’ve been forgotten about, I have no friends. And so the cycle continues.
I go to Uni and I hear people talk about movies, karaoke, parties, shopping, dinners and clubbing with friends. I go on Facebook and see all their photos, captured memories of these happy times. Laughter, smiles and joy. They go out every weekend, it’s become a part of their lifestyle. They stay in one weekend and it becomes a huge disappointment. For them it’s the norm.
For me? It’s a treasured rarity.
Nothing extraordinary or spectacular happened last night. It was just a simple night out, dinner and karaoke. Yet, it was such a wonderful feeling to be spending time with a small group of my close friends. I came home feeling on top of the world. There’s not a lot of positives I can find in struggling with depression. But one thing it has taught me? To be grateful for those moments of sunshine in the midst of a cold, dark winter. Unlike others who may take these simple pleasures of life for granted, I don’t.
It’s when the sweetness in life is absent that you truly appreciate how lucky you are when you get a taste of what you’ve been missing out on.
ED Will Not Ruin This Night Out
I’d rather tell my friends about my depression. I’d rather tell them I take medication for it, an SSRI. I’d rather reveal to them I see a psychiatrist. I might possibly even prefer them to be aware of my self harm and overdoses. Rather than knowing about my eating disorder.
Why?
Food is such a big part of everyday life and is central to many social events and gatherings. You go to a party? There will be food. You go out for a meal with friends? You’re confronted with food again. Even in ordinary everyday situations, at Uni, at work, there is at least one meal a day where people will expect to see you to eat.
Out of all the mental health issues I’ve experienced, the eating disorder is the most difficult to hide. You can smile and laugh away the depression. No one need know you take a pill every morning. Most of the time, you can cover the self harm with the appropriate clothing.
It’s harder to keep from people whether you’re eating or not eating. Especially when they become aware that you have certain issues with food.
Tonight I am going out to dinner with my friends from Uni. One of them is M, who found my blog earlier this year and hence is now privy to the fact that I have an eating disorder, and, well, all of my mental health issues I talked about on my blog prior to moving it to WordPress.
I am hesitant to let friends in on my struggles with an eating disorder. I am afraid they will then start to take notice of my behaviours, or in any case, take even greater notice. I start to feel self-conscious about putting food in my mouth, more so than usual.
If I do eat, it is as though I am fake, a phony, and the notion that I have an eating disorder will be less believable. If I am eating, it obviously means I am able, and therefore don’t have any struggles with food after all.
If I don’t eat, I feel as though I am purposefully restricting food, to gain attention, to make known to them I have eating issues.
If I make a trip to the bathroom after the meal, my friend may well be suspicious of my intentions. And there’s a good chance her suspicions will ring true. The last time I went out to dinner with them, my friend was yet to find out about my eating disorder. Thus, I could go in and throw up the contents of my stomach without them having a clue. With my friend now aware of my inclination to purge after having too big a meal, I doubt I will be able to get away with it so easily.
The only solution would be to go, eat a moderate amount, and resist the temptation to purge afterwards. Yet, even though I plan to go out with the best intentions, I still find myself eating a bit too much than I’m comfortable with, panicking over the amount of food in my stomach, and wanting to get rid of it.
Despite this, I am looking forward to going out tonight. I’m excited to be hanging out with my Uni friends again. A night out in the city, a Japanese dinner, karaoke afterwards, it all sounds so normal, something an eighteen year old should be doing to celebrate the end of exams.
I’ve lingered in the darkness for so long, it’s time to go out, enjoy this one night with my friends and remember the simple pleasures in life, nights out with friends like the one I am attending tonight.
Psychiatrist Appt II & Lexapro
Given how I felt last appointment with Dr T, my expectations of today’s appointment were not high. Fortunately, it went better than I anticipated. I’ve decided she isn’t quite as awful and insensitive as I initially thought she was. This time, I didn’t leave my appointment in tears, feeling worse than when I went in, which is definitely an improvement!
I agreed to trialing medication and am now in possession of my new meds. An antidepressant. An SSRI. Lexapro, to be exact. Or escitalopram if you prefer the generic name. I was given a starter pack and I have twenty-one tablets, 10mg each. I was given the instruction to take half a tablet, 5mg initially for one week, then increase the dosage to a whole tablet, 10mg daily.
In my previous post, when I wrote that the psychologist I am being referred to, G, is yet to call me back, I neglected to mention she practices in the same location as Dr T, they share the same consulting rooms. I let Dr T know I have in fact called up G to make an appointment and have not yet received a response. She says she will follow it up with G when she sees her tomorrow.
Dr T brought up the possibility of her writing a letter to the Uni and advising them of my depression, saying that it has affected my studies. Quite strange really, I was under the impression she didn’t think much of me studying pharmacy with my history of overdosing on pills. In saying that, she also asks whether that would be fair to the other students, and if I’m honest with myself, do I really think I deserve to get a reprieve. Would it be fair? Of course it wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair on the other students who have had to sit exams, for better or worse, regardless of what is going on in their life. I’ve been in that position myself, when a friend with depression in Year 12 was exempt from sitting the final school exams, yet still obtained a ridiculously high score and was accepted into Uni, while I struggled through them. So no, it wouldn’t be fair. Do I really think I deserve to get a concession? Of course I don’t. I feel as though whatever failings I may have academically is just a consequence of my lack of motivation and general laziness. I’m not looking for the easy way out. If I fail, I will just have to deal with it, and that is that.
She suggested there are alternatives to consider, if I do end up being terminated from pharmacy. Goodness, are there really? Suggestions such as focusing on work more, or taking the time to work on my issues before attempting Uni again. Basically what my ex-psychologist had suggested to me before, about a year ago. Ah, I love how they make it sound so neat and simple. It’s not.
The cost of this one hour appointment today was $295, however, Medicare subsidy means I only had to pay $150 out of my own pocket. I say only, but $150 is still rather a lot, considering I earn about $20 per hour working as a pharmacy assistant. *Sighs* The costs of private mental health care…
So that’s that, still waiting on a phone call from the psychologist and about to start taking the Lexapro from tomorrow morning. A bit nervous as to how I will feel and the potential side effects that may occur. Dr T says they are mostly gut effects, such as nausea, vomitting…sounds fun…
That plus the delights of studying for my exams in less than a week which I’m more than likely to fail…these upcoming few days are bound to be bundles of joy…!
Phone Calls
Last Friday, a week after my appointment with Dr T (psychiatrist), I finally gathered the courage to dial the number of the psychologist I am being referred to to make an appointment. I got through to her voicemail and listened to her voice recording asking callers to leave a message, and she’d phone back before the end of the day. I called up at about 1:30pm on the Friday and by the end of the day I still hadn’t heard back from her. Due to the following days being a weekend and the Monday being a public holiday, I expected if I was going to receive a call, it would be today on the Tuesday. It’s now past 9pm. She hasn’t rung me back.
It doesn’t give me much hope for this new psychologist.
Who I did receive a phone call from today was Dr T’s secretary. I’m not entirely sure what the point of this phone call was. She asked whether I will still be coming in tomorrow. Yes, unfortunately. Tempted to say no, but at least 24 hours notice of cancellation is required to avoid being charged a fee and by then it was past the 24 hours. I scarcely have the money to be freely throwing away on non-attendance at appointments. The secretary advised me that someone else had cancelled their appointment for tomorrow at 1pm (damn, why didn’t I do that earlier?) and enquired as to whether I would like to come in at that time instead of at 12pm. I told the secretary I could come in at 1pm if they prefer, she tells me it doesn’t matter. Alrighty then. I will stick to my appointment at 12pm.
I can’t help dissecting this phone call in my head. Was the secretary calling because Dr T does not want to see me tomorrow, as I am clearly just a waste of time, not worth her help? Or maybe she just wants to ensure she doesn’t lose out on seeing yet another patient tomorrow. No clients equals no earnings after all.
I’ve decided I will go to my appointment tomorrow open to trialing medication, though part of me doubts it will happen in the end. I don’t view my mental health issues to be severe enough to warrant medication, and I’m expecting Dr T to tell me as much. I’m envisioning that even if I do say ‘Yes,’ she’s going to say ‘No,’ and tell me I’m just looking for a quick fix and she’s not going to prescribe me anything after all.
I’m also half anticipating to be told by Dr T that the psychologist she was planning to refer me to doesn’t want to work with for various reasons, which is why she hasn’t rung me back.
No doubt I’ll be back tomorrow with some updates.
Insane Energy Drink
Disgusted, offended and appalled. That’s how I felt browsing the website for Insane Energy Drinks.
I wouldn’t feel such strong opposition had they called their product ‘Insane Energy Drinks’ and left it at that. As in, this drink will give you an insane amount of energy. Used in that context, it’s fine. When a huge storm hit our city back in March, ‘The weather out there is insane.’ It’s everyday common usage of the word, not meant to offend.
What I do have a problem with however, is the advertising campaign they are employing to market their product.
Upon visiting the website, it becomes apparent they are not only using ‘insane’ as to mean epic, awesome, a large amount (of energy) etc. No. They use ‘insane’ to describe people who are mentally ill. An ‘insane’ person is depicted on the cans of the energy drinks, someone screaming in horror and agnony. I’d be screaming too if my face was plastered on the cans as part of such an insulting and offensive product design.
If you go to their home page, you will see the message welcoming you to their site. It reads, ‘ Welcome to the new website for Insane Energy! Come in, sit down. Are you cold? Would you like a… jacket? Don’t mind those wrist straps.’ They are of course, talking about straight jackets, a feature of those Hollywood films depicting violent, raving lunatics incarcerated in an asylum, needing restraint.
Their website is based on the design of a file, one would assume this is an imitation of the manila folders used to house the paperwork and information of individual mental health patients. I must say, the sight does seem rather familiar to me, I have become somewhat accustomed to seeing my name written on a cream manila folder. What this folder contains, I don’t think I want to know… On the top left hand corner of the website, you will see a small note entitled ‘File Notes,’ used as a navigation tool to click your way around the site. On the bottom left hand corner, you will see a list of ‘new patients,’ people who have registered to become members of ther site.
It only gets worse from there.
What has offended me the most is their Patient History page. The four ‘patients’ are Juice, Original, Energy Shot and Sugar Free. Their patient histories? ‘Exhibits unusual behaviour around dogs, occasionally screams for no reason’ and ‘Found several times juiced in the corner, babbling uncontrollably’ are just a couple of the descriptions of the ‘patients’ displayed on their website.
You are then directed to take their ridiculous Insanity Test, ‘Do you belong in a straight jacket? Take the Insanity test to find out.’ Upon completion you are given a ‘Diagnosis’ of how insane you are. My diagnosis? ‘Absolutely Bonkers.’ This doesn’t offend me as much as it is complete a waste of time. Though, I do object to their usage of the phrase ’schizo brain.’ You wouldn’t call a person diagnosed with breast cancer a ‘canco breast.’ So why would you call a person diagnosed with schizophrenia a ’schizo brain?’
It is not acceptable to treat the subject of mental illness in such a cavalier way. To use the physical illness analogy again, you wouldn’t be calling an energy drink ‘AIDS Energy Drink’ for example, and you wouldn’t be offering a ‘HIV Positive test’ as some sort of a joke. There would be an outcry, and rightly so. Sufferers and people affected by this life threatening illnes would be most dismayed. Well I’m a mental health consumer and I’m upset by this ad campaign. Mental illness is not a joke. It causes so much suffering, for patients and carers alike. Mental illness can be fatal, people commit suicide or illnesses such as anorexia can take a person’s life.
Companies like these just further perpetuate the stigma surrounding mental illness. They encourage the use of ‘insane’ to label people with mental ill health. They insinuate that people who are mentally ill belong in asylums and straight jackets. They illustrate people with mental illness as individuals who are violent, disturbed and act out. Yes, there are some people with mental illness who may be violent. But then again, there are people without a mental illness who are equally as dangerous. There are also many people with mental health issues who are completely harmless to others and would never intentionally physically hurt someone if they could help it.
The target audience for their products seem to be adolesecents, high school or possibly Uni students. It is at this high school age, that adolescents are the most impressible, and attitudes towards mental illnesses are at it’s worst. This ad campaign basically encourages the continued mocking and taunting of mental illness, and further embeds the negative stereotype of a crazy, insane person, in the young person’s mind. As if it wasn’t hard enough dealing with a mental illness at a high school age, this makes it all the more difficult for students to be open about their struggles, to seek help when they need it, for the fear of being laughed at and judged by their fellow classmates.
To prove my point, I asked my high school aged brother, thirteen years old, what comes to mind when someone is described as ’insane.’ He suggests it is someone who is ‘crazy.’ I then asked what it means to him when someone is mentally ill. He says that he thinks of someone with a mental illness as a ‘retard.’ I asked him what this term meant. To him, it means someone who walks weirdly, can’t talk properly and looks grotty. It is the exact picture this website paints of a mentally ill person, someone who’s insane. But hey, guess what little brother, your sister has a mental illness and she’s none of what you described. I think some educating needs to be done…
I’d like to think our treatment of the mentally ill has improved over the years, as society has become more educated. It’s when I see ads like this that I’m disheartened, and not so sure. Luckilly, SANE Australia is advocating for changes to be made. They have contacted this company with the intention of asking them to withdraw this promotion. The latest on this, updated on May 31, is that the manufacturer has contacted SANE Australia advising that they had no intention to offend. I am quite dubious to this claim, how could they not have forseen this could be offensive, especially to those affected by mental illness? However, the company has said they aim to consult SANE Australia regarding changes in the advertising of the product. Here’s hoping they hold true to their word and changes ARE made.
*PT* Holding On…
*Disclaimer: Before anyone panics and starts to punch in the number for emergency services, I am NOT about to off myself. These are just thoughts, it does not mean I am about to act on them.
First of all, I want to apologize for the negative nature of my posts. I’m finding it harder to keep holding on. Nights are the worst, when I’m left to ponder my own thoughts. I struggle to find reasons to keep living and I realise how truly alone I remain. Last night and again tonight, I took out the stash of pills I’ve come to posess, the leftover prescription medications I had previously taken from the pharmacy. I contemplated swallowing them. I stared them down. With some reluctance, I hid them back into my drawer.
I have four different pills, drug 1, drug 2, drug 3, drug 4. The last time, I took drug 1,2 and 3 and slept for a good eighteen hours and woke up feeling dizzy and nauseous. Compare it to what I took two months ago, I have fifteen times the amount of drug 1. I have three times the amount of drug 2. I also have three times the amount of drug 3. Add in drug 4, which I didn’t take any of during my last OD. I wonder how much damage I could do then?
I so far have not given into my urges to overdose. I’m not going to either. I’m trying. Trying really hard to not give into my thoughts. What’s stopping me? My parents for one. I couldn’t do this to them. Not again. Not so soon after the last time. Not when they’ve forked out all this money on ambulance fees, GP fees, psychiatrist appointments already. They may not be the most nurturing of parents and I may not be the most considerate of children, but I do feel guilty for putting them through all this. Guilty enough to stop me from doing this again anytime soon. I also have a huge aversion to proving my psychiatrist right. If I do attempt to OD again, just two weeks before exams start, the idea that all my issues are attributed to Uni will be even more firmly implanted in Dr T’s mind. Plus, I do feel quite attention seeking when I turn up to a psychologist/psychiatrist/GP’s office, with news I’ve taken an overdose, and I unfortunately am seeing Dr T again in a week. I’m afraid of losing my job, I suspect if I again abuse medications I had stolen from my workplace, I may not get away quite so easily without them finding out and me suffering the consequences of a sanction from my employers this time.
If not for all this, honestly, I probably would have consumed all those pills by now. If the ambulance wasn’t called for me by my friends two months ago, none of the above factors would come into play. I suppose everyone else will have the view that yes, the ambulance arriving did have some positive outcome after all. I can’t say I quite agree…
It’s getting a bit old, really. Oh, BtF’s thinking about overdosing yet again? Tell me something new. The people who read my rants, my online friends, must be getting quite bored of hearing this already. I even contemplated deleting some of my old posts, because I feel that I am being overly negative, venting about the same old issues and topics, over and over again, but I know if I do this I will regret it later on. Truthfully, it is getting a bit old. I’ve taken four overdoses in two years. I should be learning how to cope, moving forward with my life. Instead, I’m searching for the easy way out. Because that’s what it is, it’s me not wanting to deal with whatever hardship life has to offer me. Suicide is not an option, it never is, it never was. I need to get that into my head.
