I saw a psychiatrist
Two weeks ago, I had an appointment with a psychiatrist.
The reason for it was to get official diagnostics, to help me on my healing path. That way I could get the right treatments and visit the right help-groups and just generally know where I stand in life.
Of course, learning I had generalised anxiety disorder came as no surprise. The diagnosis is now official. Then came ADD: attention deficit disorder, which didn't come *much* of a surprise, since I've suspected it for some time.
What DID surprise me was the last one; I exhibit traits to borderline personality disorder. I had to look this last one up. Basically, it's excessive emotions. Like, how I can go to flying HIGH one moment, and Hulk on PMS the next.
They explained to me that my traits come out when I'm feeling lowest: at nights, when I'm tired. Or when depression creeps in slowly, makes itself known. And then I hit myself over the head with my inner rants, which I've known for years about myself. There is no changing my mind, my spirits, or anything else at that moment; when I'm low, I'm low, and anyone trying to help me out of my mood gets the brunt of my anger. (I'm so so sorry to anyone this has happened).
These lovely acronyms came with a recommendation; that I go back on antidepressants. My psychiatrist gently explained to me that if my pancreas needed insulin, I wouldn't refuse it. It's the same with my mind; I have a neurological problem that needs help.
Antidepressants are the way to go.
How do I feel about that?
I'm still processing. I wanted to hard to be free of them. Wanted to do this on my own. Wanted my spirituality to 'fix' whatever issues I couldn't seem to be free of, and no longer need help from doctors or pills or shrinks.
But that's not how it works, at least, not with me. My mind has been spinning so fast, twirling so hard, more so in the last six months . . . since officially getting off my last pills. And, without quite being in denial, I lost track of my life and thoughts, shoving them aside to be dealt with later.
And later.
And later still.
As a result, I'm overwhelmed 24/7. I don't have a good quality of life. I run away from any kind of sensory overwhelmed. I deleted plenty of people from Facebook, AND from my news feed because I just couldn't process their lives anymore. Until I realised THEY weren't the problem; my mind was.
The pills make sense. Tomorrow, I meet up with my doc. And start the whole process, all over again.
I'm so tired. I'm out of focus. I'm overwhelmed. Mentally overloaded. And I just don't want to think anymore.
I feel no shame at going at this again. I'm not playing ostrich. I think it's important I be open about this, as I was before.
So here I go again.
Wish me luck.
The reason for it was to get official diagnostics, to help me on my healing path. That way I could get the right treatments and visit the right help-groups and just generally know where I stand in life.
Of course, learning I had generalised anxiety disorder came as no surprise. The diagnosis is now official. Then came ADD: attention deficit disorder, which didn't come *much* of a surprise, since I've suspected it for some time.
What DID surprise me was the last one; I exhibit traits to borderline personality disorder. I had to look this last one up. Basically, it's excessive emotions. Like, how I can go to flying HIGH one moment, and Hulk on PMS the next.
They explained to me that my traits come out when I'm feeling lowest: at nights, when I'm tired. Or when depression creeps in slowly, makes itself known. And then I hit myself over the head with my inner rants, which I've known for years about myself. There is no changing my mind, my spirits, or anything else at that moment; when I'm low, I'm low, and anyone trying to help me out of my mood gets the brunt of my anger. (I'm so so sorry to anyone this has happened).
These lovely acronyms came with a recommendation; that I go back on antidepressants. My psychiatrist gently explained to me that if my pancreas needed insulin, I wouldn't refuse it. It's the same with my mind; I have a neurological problem that needs help.
Antidepressants are the way to go.
How do I feel about that?
I'm still processing. I wanted to hard to be free of them. Wanted to do this on my own. Wanted my spirituality to 'fix' whatever issues I couldn't seem to be free of, and no longer need help from doctors or pills or shrinks.
But that's not how it works, at least, not with me. My mind has been spinning so fast, twirling so hard, more so in the last six months . . . since officially getting off my last pills. And, without quite being in denial, I lost track of my life and thoughts, shoving them aside to be dealt with later.
And later.
And later still.
As a result, I'm overwhelmed 24/7. I don't have a good quality of life. I run away from any kind of sensory overwhelmed. I deleted plenty of people from Facebook, AND from my news feed because I just couldn't process their lives anymore. Until I realised THEY weren't the problem; my mind was.
The pills make sense. Tomorrow, I meet up with my doc. And start the whole process, all over again.
I'm so tired. I'm out of focus. I'm overwhelmed. Mentally overloaded. And I just don't want to think anymore.
I feel no shame at going at this again. I'm not playing ostrich. I think it's important I be open about this, as I was before.
So here I go again.
Wish me luck.
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