Got a speeding ticket today, was deserved but let me back the day up some!
My partner took today off so she could go to my psychiatrist appointment with me for support. I needed a strong voice in my corner to express my frustration of not being able to “fix” my anxiety and now, my deepening depression because of it. I have been slipping deeper into a depression again because of my hopelessness I feel in dealing with my anxiety. The frustration I am having with my psychiatrist at the moment in making matters much worse. I feel he is not helping me in the least and I have been waiting for a referral to a psychologist for quite some time. My insurance is on my case, wanting to know what’s taking so long. Every time they call, I just get all stressed all over again. I just want to tell them, “Hey, I’ll call YOU when I start to feel better, how’s that?”
My psychiatrist told me the doctor he was trying to refer me to, isn’t taking anyone who deals with insurance because it requires too much of her time. WOW! So I guess I must wait even longer now. I ended up seeing my GP last week in the throes of my Cymbalta withdrawal problems and because I was very worried about my frame of mind (enough said of that). She set up a counseling session with a nurse next Monday to talk so at lease I have THAT. My psychiatrist of course upped my Zoloft another 25 mg even though I am soaking the bed in sweat every night because of the low dose I am on now.
Very distracted, driving home, crying a bit, cop standing on side of road with a radar gun. He got me going rather fast in a 50 kph zone so I was clearly in the wrong and I admit that. I roll down the window and start crying again and the cop asks if everything is ok. I reply that I’ve just come from my doctor’s office and am upset. My partner chimes in that I suffer from depression and I’ve been having a rough time of late. He said he would be very fair and he was. He reduced the ticket as low as possible and no demerit points.
My partner had to drive home because I was a mess. I have no coping skills, seems they are broken and I am feeling like I am constantly walking around on egg shells. I almost feel like I am having a hard time looking after myself in a few ways.
What a difference a few days make. Spent a great weekend with my partner and today I went out to photograph birds and fill the feeders. It is just at freezing but a gorgeous sunny day and all the birds are singing. Spring has sprung and my mood is a lot better this week. The Cymbalta withdrawal is now behind me and my psychiatrist is back from vacation, I will see him tomorrow.
One of my older friends has decided to quit the rat race and sell everything and move to Florida with his wife– Ugh!!! I wish I could do something like that (see previous post). For now, I will enjoy this day for tomorrow will probably be a shit show.
Tried so hard last night to get to sleep before my crying jags started up again. I had taken a Seroquel and was waiting anxiously for it to kick in. My partner, lying behind me was rubbing my back which made me start to cry again. It’s so frustrating and embarrassing. I hate for her to see me this way. Not just because I feel so ashamed and guilty for acting and feeling this way, but because I hate having her worried about me.
I have been off work for almost a year now. Money is tight, trips cancelled, grand plans put on hold and its all my fault. The guilt is becoming so unbearable and I am crying again as I write these words. I have had depression on and off my whole life but lately it is anxiety that I’ve been treated for. Now, my depression has come back full force and my psychiatrist does nothing but stare at me while I cry for my weekly 20 minute appointment, then ask if I need any refills. It’s a real wonder why I’m still here…
Decided during my feeling of hopelessness this morning, to call my regular doctor to find out how I can fire my psychiatrist and get a new one as mine is a fucking idiot! Sorry for that. Usually I would have to wait months for an appointment but as luck would have it, she was on urgent care tonight (she works in a clinic with other doctors) and there was an appointment available tonight. I booked it! I need to gather my thoughts and figure out what I need to bring up with her without dissolving into a puddle of tears, rambling on and on about my issues.
- Get a referral to a new psychiatrist.
- Discuss my Cymbalta withdrawal problems.
- Let her know I am afraid I am deteriorating and my thoughts of suicide.
Took a break from writing this post to go outside and pick up dog poop as it is zero degrees Celsius and sunny (nice for March in Ontario, Canada). I promised my partner I would go outside today. Things were going well till I couldn’t chisel the poop out of the snow as it has melted down into it. I usually do this every 2 days or so but in my Cymbalta withdrawal this week, I have left it. Again, my fault and I began crying. Tears were rolling down my face as a was getting more and more frustrated at the encapsulated poop just beyond my reach. I did the only sensible thing and gave up. What if my neighbour sees me crying, picking up poop. It’s not the poop, its me!
This is why I need to do something and go see my doctor tonight. I realized that depression can be fatal.
I feel like crap! Day 5 off Cymbalta (on Zoloft now) and I feel nauseous, cranky, teary and shaky. My partner left for work and I was trying to keep it together before she left so she wouldn’t worry about me. My psychiatrist is of course away and I ran out of the Cymbalta a bit early. It wasn’t like I wasn’t supposed to stop it soon anyway. I thought about having my regular doctor call in a prescription to the pharmacy but then I would have to just go through withdrawal again later.
I woke up in a pile of gross sweat again today, totally soaking through my PJs. I can’t remember the last time I got more than one night out of a shirt and sleepy pants. This symptom has been with me since I started taking the Zoloft about a month ago and isn’t letting up at all.
I feel like shit because I am ignoring my beautiful dog as well. I have no energy to take her for a walk in the woods which she loves. She is so easy-going and puts up with anything, I don’t deserve her.
Woke up alive today. That was the bad news. Oh, and there wasn’t any good news. I was almost hoping I would succumb to some medication complication in my sleep last night so I wouldn’t have to endure day three of Cymbalta withdrawal. My doctor has been tapering me off Cymbalta while steadily increasing a new drug for me, Zoloft. I was down to the low 30 mg tablets and then I ran out. It was planned to taper off but I hadn’t planned on heavy withdrawal symptoms and now have no pills left.
For the past 3 days, I have been feeling queasy, head achy, irritable and have been crying on and off most the day and night. Sometimes when I am crying, I can feel my heart ache because I am so sad and inconsolable. I can feel my depression gripping me tighter and tighter. My doctor is on vacation of course and the pharmacy has an old prescription for Cymbalta on hand but won’t give it to me because it is a different dosage. I left the grocery store in tears today, which is why I seldom venture out any more. It was all I could do to get up and drive myself there today and now I still am suffering from the same withdrawal effects.
I have been dealing with depression more than half my life but I am supposed to be treated for anxiety mostly these days. The anxiety is a relatively new event for me and one that has me at the end of my rope. I’ve been off work for so many months because of my anxiety. Work, that’s another story altogether.
After several failed attempts at returning to work (sat in work parking lot having panic attack after panic attack, unable to get in the door), I feel embarrassed , ashamed and weak. That is why my depression has come back full force in the past few months. I told myself that I would give this one more shot so we are changing all my meds and seeing if it helps. So far, meh!