Phase Three But Close To Failure

Well, I've still been following my little "decreasing my medications to nothing" plan but it is becoming harder and harder to keep a hold of my resolve to do so. It's been nothing short of a roller coaster ride. I'm either experiencing the lowest of lows or almost dancing around the house making up silly little songs to sing over and over again. In short, I feel like I am losing control of me.

Despite the glaringly obvious disadvantages (which I have been writing almost constantly about in my long-hand, offline journal ... stuff which is just way too dark and rambling to publish here), there are advantages to not taking as much medication.

Yikes! What are they now? I've forgotten them in the time that it took me to write the preceding sentence. Geez! Okay ... try to get back on track here.

The advantages:

• regaining the ability to cry
• the up periods, despite being somewhat of a mixed state, can almost be described as wonderful
• despite the pain, feeling, even the negative emotions, seems like it might be more normal than the constant and unreal suppression of feelings and emotions due to taking medication.
• I seem to be dreaming far more regularly
  

Then there is the hope that if I can manage to withstand the roller coaster ride of "withdrawing" from my medication dependence, then I might just find "me" again, that the depression will somehow just magically fall by the wayside and maybe this nightmare will simply vanish into thin air.

As an aside, I rang up the local public adult mental health service a short while ago, primarily to ask them if they knew of any other private psychiatrists in the region. Apparently my pdoc is the only one. I suspected that to be the case though.

The woman who answered the phone was very docile to say the least. I had to tell her several times that I was already a patient of my pdoc's. It was like, "Hello! I'm not just a person who is ringing up your service to get an appointment with your pdoc for the hell of it! In fact, I'm not even ringing up to get an appointment with your pdoc at all for goodness sake." In amongst all her rambling about either needing to get a doctor's referral or having to go through the service's ACT (Acute Care Team, I think) which apparently is a long and drawn out process (who the hell cares ... I'm not trying to get an appointment, remember!), she mumbles something about there not being another private psychiatrist in the region. Yay! Access to the tiny bit of information that I was actually after, albeit almost hidden in amongst her verbal diarrhoea. *Sigh* And they wonder why people just give up.

Anyway, enough of that aside.

So yeah ... I guess my point is that I am not so sure about going off the medication any more. It's been a hard thing to do. I don't know how much longer I can keep it up. I was kind of hoping to show my pdoc what I was like sans medication. After all, he has never seen me off medication. I don't think I will be able to hold out until our next appointment though.

I'm still mystified about this therapy business too. It would appear that my pdoc does not know how to deal with my silences during therapy appointments. He is unable to draw me out and get me speaking. Believe me, I have tried to do this on my own, but I can't do it either. I don't know if the goal of therapy is to discover why life sucks so much for me, but I'm certainly unaware of the pdoc and I discovering any of my issues, why I feel this way almost constantly ... yadda yadda yadda. Consequently, I am still depressed. I still would, quite frankly, rather be dead than having to live this so called life of mine for however long I have left to walk on this godforsaken earth.

I don't know. Maybe I should just forget the whole thing. Screw the medication. It doesn't work. Screw the pdoc and his therapy. It hasn't worked either. I don't have a real psychiatric illness anyway, so maybe I just need to get over myself, stop thinking that there will be a moment when suddenly I will understand why I live with constant depressive feelings and that by knowing this, that the depression will go away forever. It's never going to happen. There must be millions of other people who live with depressive feelings every day of their lives, but they have learnt to cope, that it is not an issue anymore for them and that they actually contribute to this world instead of hiding out in their lounge room in front of their computer doing nothing like I do.

*Sigh* Get over it, K. Your mother was right when she called you pathetic. I'm a pathetic, spoilt little bitch that just needs to get a freakin' life no matter how much I don't want one.

I'll regret this post later. In fact, I think I will regret the whole blog. I should rename it to, "The Pathetic Little Immature Bitch's Constant Whinging That Nobody Deserves To Have To Be Subjected To".