At the appointment, a lot of it was follow-up on the past weeks, the smoking and seizures and stuff. She thinks that the big overdose when I was 12 y.o. has left me some kind of a tendency for seizures.
My blood tests from A&E weren't so great. My vitamin D and calcium were even lower, which was probably from all the vomity yuckness. More bloods. More suggestions for supplements I still haven't been able to take. EEG results take a while to process, but the neurologist didn't freak out at the sight of it, so that's a good sign.
Then we were talking about meds, and mum mentioned she thinks I should have a sleeping pill, which we'd talked about but I just wasn't going to bother mentioning it. I told the GP I have occasional nights when I just don't sleep, but I go through the next day until a usual bedtime just fine. She asked if I'd had temazepam before, but last time they made me hallucinate, so no, not going there.
So in the end, she said to try an extra gabapentin (newer, secondary, so-far-useless antidepressant) on nights I can't sleep, and to cut back on the mirtazapine (anti-depressant I've been on four years, also useless) a little to see if that helps me sleep.
This... I don't know what to say. This really fucked with me. I should mention, at this point in the appointment, I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I just feel so defeated in every way, I couldn't speak up. It probably all sounds ridiculous, but it really upset me.
For a bit of history (and I promise I'll make this quick), I've been on mirtazapine for four years, and gabapentin is the fourth secondary anti-depressant they've tried in the last two years.
My first psychiatrist gave me my first anti-depressant aged 12 - fluoxetine They messed with my head, made me even more depressed, and ultimately lead to me overdosing on the entire medicine cabinet, mentioned before.
After that, I refused to touch medication for years. Then when I was diagnosed with Anorexia, sectioned, and sent to the ED Unit, they initially put me back on fluoxetine. This was some five years after the overdose, for timescale. I fought and begged and plead for them to give me something, anything else. This is how I was first put on mirtazapine, and back in the medication cycle.
I haven't wanted to take myself off them, but if I don't, I'm going to be stuck on them forever. I think I'm starting to agree with what the MHN said, that anti-depressants don't do shit for me. I even asked my GP again this time,
"Can I just come off them?"
It probably wouldn't have upset me so much if it weren't for everything else that's going on.
I still haven't heard from the mental health nurse. She left in January and she said she'd call and organise a time to catch up in the first week of March, but she never called. I know it's nothing personal, but she made it personal when she said she'd call. It was shitty enough when she had to leave, but that was just rubbing salt into the wound.
I was just starting to trust her and talk to her, and then she left. She was the first person I'd been able to talk to for so many years. And I'm supposed to start seeing this new MHN in May, and ugh.
It's like I'm back to square one, before I started seeing the MHN or my GP or even the dietician. Appointments feel like an obligation again, Something I have to push myself to, instead of welcome breaks. I just want to scream that things are not okay but there's nothing that can be done to make things better.
I feel like I've hit a massive brick wall, and it just keeps building higher and higher.
We were going to go straight from the appointment to wildlife sanctuary, but I ended up having a bit of a meltdown. We did go for a drive to fill in the morning, but didn't go anywhere in particular. Even before the appointment, I was an anxious wreck at the thought of going out, crying, shaking. But still going to try. I've been planning to get there for at least a year now. But right now it's just too much.
I did half get out a couple of weeks ago. It's not much, but it's the furthest I've ventured out since December. Mum went to pick up my brother and his girlfriend from the airport, so I went for a drive along. When we dropped her off, they bought out their foster kitty to the car. I wasn't going to go in, but after much persuading from my brother, I went inside and played with the kitty for a while.
And thank you guys for your feedback on my last post. It was not easy to write, and to be honest I was afraid to check my comments for a few days. I was kind of afraid you'd all freak out, but I think it might help give you all a better idea of what I'm going through. It just really means a lot to me that I've got your support through this.
He also bought me back souvenirs