Yeah so fuck psychiatry:mad:. I thought a doctor was a teacher; isn't that the root of the word? Docre - to teach. It's in the Oxford English Dictionary. We call professors Dr. too and they don't mind if you ask questions.
All I want is to be able to focus on a task at a time. I'll take the depression and tolerate it if I can just get my work done. But this does not seem to matter to the person getting paid $10 a minute to scrawl out prescriptions in her own predetermined order. Oh drug A doesn't work, well let's try drug B. My input is irrelevant to the process except whether I can sleep or not.
When I told her the Adderall helped, this information was met with disdain. According to her a history of depression rules out ADHD and I am a Bad Person for daring to take another person's prescription.
Never mind the fact that I am desperate and eating pills seems a heck of a lot drastic than taking an exacto knife on an exploratory mission to find the femoral artery. And why do they always say to go to the ER if you're feeling suicidal? If I had the presence of mind to drive myself to the ER without slamming into a post at 90 MPH I wouldn't call that suicidal in the first place! Even when they got around to seeing me what would they do anyway? Just lock me in a room to suffer? Well shit I can do that at home & not rack up co-pays. Plus I retain the dignity of leaving when I choose.
Lesson learned: I must never question the godlike power of a psychiatrist's diagnosis. It will not change anyone's mind and only get me treated like a difficult patient. Maybe I am a difficult patient but if so it is only because I get no feedback on what is actually relevant and what isn't.
Whatever. It's not like I have anything to lose anyway... I mean in reality I have good life conditions, but since my mind is turned against itself all the good fortune in the world won't relieve my pain. That's not true, it might if I could get $400K to pay off my boyfriend's student loans & move him back to the states.
I just wish that the only 4 hrs relief from despair that I have had in the past few months was met with a hint of compassion. Instead I have to deal with the "journey" of her goddam trial and error approach.
How much patience is enough? At what point is it time to say, never mind this approach isn't working?
Rant over. I feel like tacos (note - if you get this joke, you get it ).