Yes, I’m Seeing a Psychiatrist Again

 

After over 3 years off psychiatric medications, letting my body clear them, coming to terms with my hurt and anger over that last psychiatric stopping 5 meds without taper, and working on my issues in isolation, free of irritation from others’ interference, I came to realizations. My mind is definitely clearer (7 different meds daily clouded everything) and I’ve learned so much more about my personal issues through writing and art. I’ve also tightened up my finances, providing more of a sense of independence. This is all good, helps me tremendously, but it’s not enough. I still experience too many lows tinged with suicidal thoughts, resistance to stepping out of my apartment (or off my sofa most days), mired in life’s pointlessness and drudgery. And then there’s the flip side.

When I do get moving, I’m propelled into some sense of never stopping, sure I have all the answers, and happy like I’m high, flitting from one thing to the next, whirling about until I drop back into exhaustion and dreary greys. There’s no balance. There’s no middle ground. Psychiatrists tell me it’s bipolar disorder, and I didn’t trust that previously because it came from clinicians who disrespected and mistreated me. I also didn’t trust that diagnosis because, though I took meds as prescribed, I didn’t involve myself in a serious way with treatment, more like enduring it, and nobody treating me really wanted to hear my thoughts about it anyway.

Nonetheless, I considered returning to psychiatric care. Why? I now accept my bipolar diagnosis. It’s plain as day that it’s there after I’ve exhausted all my own methodologies to show myself it was about bad medicating or being out of touch with my own issues or just being anxious about my ability to care for myself. But, I hesitated, not due to a shortage of psychiatrists in my area, but because finding a competent, caring, progressive one out of the bunch seemed impossible.

And then, I found one through the magic of social media. Seriously though, I was able to view his style and find out lots about his background, and I became intrigued and drawn to him. I visited his website to determine the cost and if I could budget to pay. I went over and over what I wanted to do with trying medication again. Then I made contact and had an initial, thorough, long evaluation a month ago. I was very open about my past issues in psychiatric treatment, the many, many times inpatient, and all the meds. I’d printed a log of all that which I handed to him. Then I explained the past 3 years of recovering from meds being cold stopped and my period of self-exploration. I noted the importance of my creativity, inspiring me to make art and write, resurfacing. I emphasized my worries over IgA vasculitis, a terrible syndrome caused by past meds, returning.

 I’ve been trying one medication since. We agreed, based on all my concerns and simple desires for my life, on a medication. We agreed together. That’s the most important part. I need a partnership, not somebody just telling me what to take or trying to sell me on their genius abilities with these amazing drugs. That’s not how it works. A truthful and humane psychiatrist will tell you that a med has been shown to do x, y, or z for many with a similar condition. Then they’ll explain adverse effects and approach prescribing with starting at a low dose, slowly increased. And then they’ll make sure you understand what the med can offer and not offer. This all happens after taking a complete history, listening, and asking clarifying questions.

So far, I haven’t had problems with the med. I feel slightly better, maybe because I’m helping myself and that gives me hope. I intend to keep on with this psychiatrist and, with his guidance, discover if meds might assist me in reaching a more satisfactory and tranquil existence. My life isn’t horrible, and I could just go on as I have been, but why settle when it might improve.