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This is what I imagine most psychiatrists think I am like at this point - weird, charismatic, and possibly dangerous. |
I have come to understand that it's likely that many physical symptoms I have been having (lethargy, cramping, chronic headaches, weight I just can't shed, sleep disruption), as well as some of the more timid, despairing feelings I have felt, might indeed be signs of some degree of depression, something I wasn't believing I had, because it feels different now from what I felt when I had it in my teens and 20s. This is likely burnout from extreme exhaustion, having suffered the spiritual assault, along with everything else. Not getting anywhere with outpatient care, I got overwhelmed last night and took myself to the closest ER.
Toronto General was quite nice, but had to put me in a cab to go to Toronto Western, where they were to assess me. There, I waited in a strange area, a glass room with a gurney with bed restraints on it (hello Segufix, my old friend!) for hours, with an excruciating emotionally induced headache, until a young male doctor saw me. He was pleasant, but clearly didn't know how to read me, assuming my expressive speech was a sign of racing thoughts, and thus mania, rather than a refined, creative mind that likes to regularly partake in friendly banter with intellectuals. He was perplexed when I held my gaze and described my mind as being "without thoughts, usually" and that "thoughts come to me when they are relevant". I had come to hospital to find acute assistance with a low dose of an antidepressant, which I am willing to take at this point to see if I can at least stop some of the more painful physical sensations (again, I am not anti-psychiatry, I am just very critical of a lot in it, and if a pill will help, so be it) ... I was willing to play their game, and they still fucked it up.
His "concern" was that an antidepressant could make me manic, based on my totally bogus former diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, something that haunts me now, to this day, like the soul of a dead stalker. It's amazing how a bad doctor's opinion of where my mind was over a decade ago retroactively has the power to muck up my ability to get help when I need it. When I told him I have never been manic, that I have been in acute withdrawal once or twice, and also that voices were just so funny it may have seemed that way at other times, it was clear that he wasn't listening, but instead just pandered to try to get me to see things his way... I saw right through it. I might have even made him nervous because of how jaded and dry I was throughout the interview.
I left at 1:30 am with two sleep aids and a note that indicated an outpatient clinic would call me in a day to help. When the clinic called today, I revealed that I have a psychiatrist who simply refuses to ever get back in touch with me. They then said they couldn't help me if I still was under her as a patient. When I called my psychiatrists's office to try again, I got a secretary and she said I would need to be re-referred through another clinic to even talk to her, because of how long it had been since I had talked to her. So I fired my psychiatrist on the spot.
Finally, another lead called me from Women's College Hospital, where my GP works. Much better. I now have an appointment tomorrow to discuss my situation with a doctor while my GP is away, and I am going to ask to just work with my GP and no shrink at all from this point on, if he's willing. I quite like my GP, he's friendly, knowledgable, and hasn't let me down yet. Most psychiatrists have been square, evil, odd or insane, or all of the above... I think I am done with them now. I am not moved by anything they have to say about the mind, even the most recent one was making me wonder if she wasn't all there. My analyst is still a dream and so that is how I will get therapy... too bad he can't prescribe.
Sinners, why is getting on antidepressants as an impressionable teenager so much easier than it is as a sophisticated 39 year old woman who knows who she is and what she needs? I'm not asking for anything I could abuse here. I do wish that this terrible bogus former diagnosis would just go away and never be mentioned again, because I haven't shown anything that could possibly be interpreted as a sign of it in well over a decade.
Fuck psychiatrists, they remind me of bad Catholic priests - I hope my GP says yes and takes me on. I will lick a cop's boots, but only because I have a cop fetish, I think they're terrible too... I won't kiss a doctor's ass unless they earn my respect. I once called a shrink "darling" in the ER after he recommended ECT, just to let him know he had lost my compliance. The young doctors are sometimes worse than the older ones, not knowing who they are at the stage in their lives when they would be getting training, trying to be "healers". I often say that young people are like green bananas - give them time. But in psychiatry, I just don't expect them to ever ripen to be anything terribly interesting.
-Saraƒin