Resolution #144: Use My New Benefits To Get Into Therapy... At Least... Get Back On The Meds...

Date: 5-24-2014

Due Date: 5-24-2015

Resolution: Last night, I finally got around to picking my health benefits through work. I spent a couple of extra bucks to make sure that the package that I selected included mental health coverage.

I've gone into therapy three or four times in my life and have gone on and off of medication a few more times than that. I've yet to meet the right therapist and have also yet to find the right cocktail that works for me. Being that I'm bipolar it's hard to gauge what's working while living in a head that is so inconsistent, especially while being fully aware of this inconsistency and kind of good at hiding it.

My transition from the world of freelance into the world of retail has been pretty rough on me. Other than this blog and all the projects that stem from each resolution, I've grown quite ambivalent toward life.

It feels like the person that I'm writing about has never been happier and is using this resolution thing to make great strides in figuring out what life is all about. Meanwhile, the me who actually is this person is lost and documenting an experiment that's actually testing the whole, "Fake it 'til make it," philosophy of life.

Both experiments are pretty hard to keep going, especially at the same time.

Result #144: I Don't Think I Found The Right Therapist… Or The Right Mix Of Meds… Which May Have Led To The Meltdown That Sent Me Home…

Update #1: The New Patient Physical…

Date: 6-30-2014

Well, I'm now back in the health care system!!!

Today was my new patient physical that I schedule the moment that I received my proof of insurance. I currently don't really have anything going on with me physically that I'm all that concerned about and fully understand this physical is a step in the process to get a referral to a psychiatrist so I didn't expect much.

I've changed jobs and careers many times in my life so I've been a new patient many times in the process. Most of the time during the introductory physical the doctor asks questions about why I'm there. Their focus is the physical but they seem to also want to help with my concerns. At the end of the appointment, I'm used to getting a prescription to get me started so that when I meet with an actual psychiatrist there's already progress to be gauged so the mood med cocktail can then be tweaked if needed.

Not today.

This doctor seemed like he couldn't care less. He just asked the questions and would cut me off in the middle of my answers so that he could move on to the next item on his checklist. I even had a moment when I had a bit of a breakdown while answering one of the questions and even then he cut me off to move on to complete the exam, explain the next step, shake my hand and leave.

I have to say, I felt a little punch drunk and confused as I stared at the ground and waited for the nurse to arrive with the printed information about the next steps. At least she was nice.

Then I went to get my blood drawn. Those people seemed to be fun but I was still in a bummed out haze.

Tomorrow I go back for some other tests, luckily it's in an entirely different wing of the hospital. Hopefully, this will be an uneventful venture that's not even worth sharing about, but who knows? 

Update #2: The Conclusion…

Date: 5-24-2015

I know that people always joke about people going out of control when they go "off their meds," I've always found that things get weirder when I am on them. That's not to say that I'm one of these people that feel like a zombie while I'm on medications. I usually feel a little better the first couple of months, following a new pill regiment, but then things get strange.

I think the big part is that I've yet to meet a therapist that's been a good fit for me. This latest round was the fifth or sixth time I've sought help and like always I started out excited, thinking this would be the time that I'd figure things out only to end up disappointed by more of the same.

My all or nothing dance between enthusiasm and despair is pretty much what I battle in every aspect of my life. Whether it's relationships, writing, or just enjoying life, I can go from the top of the world to my next rock bottom at the blink of an eye and I fear the in-between most of all.

I know it's going to take time to work through the issues in my head but it's also going to take the right therapist more than the right drug combo. As you can see by this site I'm a pretty open person, if anything I share too much, so this isn't a case of me fighting the process. I just usually get to a point where I feel the therapist is just doing their job and that no one really cares.

I don't really blame the therapist because I know if I saw people with problems all day I couldn't care about all of them. Maybe care is a strong word. I'm just looking for someone I feel is interested in me as a person and not just a patient.

I'm currently off the meds and feel fine, stuck in the mundane middle, but fine. Being that the meds I was on seemed to trigger a pretty self-destructive period of my life I'm not sure if being off them is a success or failure. Maybe next time I go in I'll have to just buckle down for the ride as I continue to try to find the right cocktail but for right now, I don't think I need it.