Adventures in Medicating

Skip this post if you're not interested in my ongoing medication/therapy/mental health roller coaster. THERE. You've been warned.

A little over a year ago, I started a new medication. It's one commonly used to treat bipolar disorder, but in my case it was being used for, as my doctor put it, "treatment-resistant depression." At first, this drug seemed to be doing the trick. I don't remember if I updated later, nor do I currently have the energy to look, but in any case the initial high that I seem to get with any new anti-depressant once again didn't last. I stayed on it, and felt like maybe I was just able to cope better than before, and thus it was certainly helpful, right?

At some point, my company switched insurance companies and the doctor who prescribed this medication didn't take the new stuff. Figures. I found a new place where they use nurse practitioners for the medication part of mental health wellness, and once again went through the intake process. She asked me questions about feeling manic, but since my answers were all negative, I didn't think anything of it. I didn't like this nurse much, so when she transferred offices and I was assigned someone new, I was happy. I did sort of a mini-intake with the new nurse, since she had the notes from the previous woman, and when she made mention of bipolar now and then, I simply thought she was being general or thorough about what this medication was for and could do - I didn't realize right away that she inferred by the prescription itself that someone, somewhere, had actually diagnosed me as bipolar.

Several months ago, we tried weaning me off the medication, but I had a bit of a breakdown so that decision was reversed. I went back on, but at a lower dosage, and added in anti-anxiety pills. By now, there's a girl at my pharmacy who knows me by sight. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that, although I suppose it's kind of nice not to have to spell my last name every time anymore. If any of the other employees now recognize me and remember my name, they at least hide it.

Between these 2 drugs, I once again felt like I was, at least, capable of handling stress. It was better than before. But, sidebar, let's talk about my cat's health for a minute. This last year he was diagnosed with IBD, which is actually kind of a funny thing to say a cat is "diagnosed" with, because the loose translation of IBD in cats is "we don't actually know what's wrong, but it's definitely something with his digestive system." The treatment is quite similar to that of mental health treatment for people: try these drugs... see how it goes... maybe try these drugs with those drugs... how's that? no? okay, let's try these and maybe some of that... It goes on like this until you find the right cocktail. Guess and check.