I’m in need of some advice from my fellow sufferers of mental illness… Or even from those who don’t suffer from a mental illness.
It’s difficult enough to have a mental illness, particularly bipolar disorder and anxiety. For some reason, you sometimes can’t make decisions, rational or irrational. And you especially can’t make correct decisions, that are so painfully obvious to other people, on important matters. That’s the point I’m at now. I need advice…
You know, I actually find certain aspects of myself comically annoying…
Case in point, I have absolutely no problem telling people off, telling them exactly what I think of them, of certain subjects… I can literally rip someone a new asshole so badly, say such horrible things that they’ll be in tears by the time I’m done and feel absolutely nothing for having done so. Maybe that’s normal for bipolar people. Maybe I’m just an asshole… I don’t know and I don’t particularly care. But what I do care about is the fact that, when faced with certain authority figures, I turn into this timid little thing that has difficulty speaking up and will accept defeat when shot down, even if it’s something I shouldn’t back down from. It’s annoying as fuck…
The authority figures I do this with aren’t bosses or my elders… It’s doctors…
Actually, the doctors I’m most timid with are the psychiatrists I’ve seen over the years. It always seems as if they dismiss your concerns because, hey, they’re the ones who went to college and got a degree in psychiatry, not you. Therefore, you’re an idiot and know nothing about how to treat a mental illness so just shut the fuck up and jam these pills I’m prescribing to you down your throat. I’ve gone through this a lot…
The antidepressant I’m currently on isn’t a good match for me… When I first went on it, it helped my depression for a few months. However, the family doctor informed me, after having bloodwork done, that my cholesterol was high. Odd, since the only thing I eat with any cholesterol is cheese and I can’t process fats since I lost my gall bladder. So okay, I cut out 90% of the cheese I ate.
When the antidepressant stopped working, my dosage was raised. Suddenly, I began gaining a shit ton of weight and my cholesterol went higher. I hardly eat and I eat nothing with any cholesterol and next to no fat. I spoke to my doctor a few months ago about my weight and cholesterol. He said I looked fine (but I don’t) and had my thyroid checked to see if that was causing my weight gain, which is when I found out my cholesterol was high. I suggested the med was the issue, which he dismissed, and told me that was the only med he had and if I found one, let him know. For real…?!
What I should have said was, “If I’m going to essentially be doing your job for you, shouldn’t I be the one getting paid the big bucks?!”
But I didn’t…
Stupid thing is, I have no problem saying that to other people. Like the electric provider… When you tell them you’re moving, where to turn the power off at and where to turn it on at, you expect they would know to send the bill to the address where they turned the power on at, right? Nope, they sent it to the old address and I got three months of bills in the span of two days. This happened twice! The second time, I complained and was told that, if I wasn’t getting my bills, I should call and tell them. I retorted with, “If you want me to do your job for you, you better send me a fucking paycheck!”
And yet, I can stand up to my psychiatrist… I should… I mean, after all, the state of my mental health is in his hands. And if something isn’t right with my meds, he should listen to my concerns and adjust things as necessary, right? But when he said he had no other med and if I found one, let him know, I was literally dumbfounded into silence. I never would imagine any doctor saying this to a patient. Aren’t they supposed to help us when we can’t help ourselves? What’s worse is that I felt betrayed. Up until that point, I really liked him. I’d gone through so many psychiatrists local to me and I hated them all. This one is over the state line, which is a half hour drive on highways, which I hate. But I make this trip because I liked the fact that he listened and cared. Then to find out he was just like all the other psychiatrists… It was the ultimate betrayal…
But that’s not all!
Yesterday, I had an appointment scheduled to see him. Now, this is very important… I only see him once every three months (unless I need to see him sooner). Remember that part…
When I arrived yesterday, the door was locked. I was puzzled… Thankfully the receptionist was there and opened the door, asking me if I had an appointment and informed me the doctor was gone. I told her I did have an appointment. I was so puzzled, she asked me to come in, looked it up on the computer and saw I did. She apologized profusely, claiming she goofed. But I doubt that… Once, when I made an appointment, I remember her telling me he was going on vacation and what dates so I could schedule before or after. I made this appointment three months ago! If he had a day off, I’m sure she’d have had it in the schedule. I honestly think he just took off and she was covering for him…
I posed this situation to my friends, all of whom said I need to find a new doctor. That’s easier said than done… Partly it’s because a lot of psychiatrists here aren’t accepting new patients or are straight up ass clowns.
There’s also another issue… Unless I really hate my psychiatrist to the point that I want to punch them in the dick (or give them a cunt punt if they’re female), it’s difficult for me to do that. This is true with every doctor, actually. When you change doctors, you obviously have to have your records transferred. I’m always afraid that, if I call to ask them to do so that they’ll get nasty with me, which I need like I need a hole in my fucking head. So making the decision that’s obvious to everyone else is like a paradox to me. I just go round and round, playing every conceivable scenario over in my head, and I don’t like the majority of them…
Did you ever watch that episode of Seinfeld where Elaine is wondering what her doctor is writing down and peeks at her chart when he leaves the room? He noted that she was difficult, among other things. And when he caught her peeking, he made even more notes in her chart. Word spread like wildfire and soon there wasn’t one doctor in New York City that would see her for the rash she had. Honestly, that’s what I’m always afraid of, that I’ll end up being blackballed if I decide to see a different doctor. You never know what they write in those charts…
So this is where I need your help, dear readers…
If you were in my position, what would you do? Especially those of you who suffer mental illnesses like I do. I’m really interested in what you guys would do if you were in this difficult position. Please leave some comments. I really need the help…
and She Said... 