Most of you, at least some of you, may already know about my mental state (i.e. bipolar disorder, etc.). Recently, my psychiatrist decided to up my mood stabilizer in an attempt to help me with my crying spells and depressive moods despite the fact that I've had two children back to back with no time to take care of my postpartum depression after the first child. Now, six months after my second child, it has become a serious problem.
Well, I did as I was told and upped my dose. Three days later, all hell broke loose.
Let me explain. I'm beyond what one would call "moody" and would even go so far as to call myself crazy. My mother and husband even spoke of sending me to the hospital to get some help, it was getting that bad.
Finally, I said screw it and stopped taking the higher dose of mood stabilizer. Yet another three days later and it's becoming easier for me to control my moods again.
This all happened over the weekend so as soon as Monday hit, I called my psychiatrist and had no choice but to leave a message. He did not respond. So I went over his head and called his boss. His boss got back to me in less than three hours when my own psychiatrist couldn't find time to get a hold of me in over 24 hours.
I was seriously pissed off at him and still am. You see, this isn't the first time he's ignored my pleas for help with my PPD. I've been asking him to help me for the past six months. I knew, deep down in my psyche, I knew that things weren't right and I knew what was wrong and I tried to convey that to him numerous times. He just wouldn't listen.
Essentially, he jeopardized my health and wellness and my family's health and wellness, too.
I was hurting my family, my husband, my daughters, my mother and sister. I was even hurting my friends.
Don't misunderstand, they were all being super supportive and especially my longtime friend of 19 years, whom we'll loving call D, was there for me in a heartbeat, telling me how great of a person I truly am and how this is just another hiccup in the road of life for me, it isn't the first time and it won't be the last. She even went so far as to ask her son, my godson, who is 9 years old now (dear god where did the time go) what he liked most about me and what his favorite memories of he and I were while we were riding in the car together on the way to her house, just me and D and her son, so I could get out of the house and just relax alone for a little time during the dark and troubling time I was in.
It helped so much. I can't even tell you. I feel like my normal self again. I started this blog a few days ago. I was put on Prozac for my PPD and my mood stabilizer is at its normal dose again.
I'm hoping that this will solve my issues so I don't have to be a psycho guinea pig again. I've been down that road and it was hard when I only had to worry about myself. I can't even imagine how difficult it would be now that I have two daughters and a husband to worry about.
It's just another one of those things I guess.
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