Oh, so I’m *really* anemic

Went to the dr for my blood test results today. Everything is good except for my hemoglobins and ferritin which are incredibly low. I’m not sure what the numbers mean exactly but the normal range is between 15 and 160 and mine is 4. I must start taking iron supplements immediately and change my diet to eat more iron-rich foods. Yay for spinach! I have not been a healthy eater and now it has come to bite me in the ass. Sigh.

At least I found out that there could be more to my lethargy and headaches than depression. If I get my iron stores up, I will likely see a big difference in my energy, says the doctor. I hope so.

Now to get the irritability under control. I have officially stopped the wellbutrin – I was just too agitated on it. I get my second opinion psychiatry appt next week, and I will see what this guy says. My GP is thinking that I may be bipolar II. I don’t feel particularly hypomanic, but my agitation and irritability could be seen as that, with my depressive episodes being much more prominent.

I don’t want to be bipolar II.  It’s another scary label. I was just getting used to and accepting that I have anxiety and depression.

More waiting.

Meanwhile, here’s a pretty scenery pic of a place where I frequently walk my dogs. It’s a place that generally relaxes me.



Overwhelmed and Jittery

The wellbutrin is making me even more anxious. I think I am going to come off it,  and then when I see the psychiatrist I will only be on the prozac and he can decide to start me on something else if necessary. The shakes and anxiety are getting to be too much. If I don’t take the clonazepam, I can’t sit still and my hands shake like crazy,  not to mention the racing thoughts. My partner D is being really awesome and patient, thankfully.

I am so glad I have a supportive family and partner. I don’t know what I would do without them.

Back to dr for psych recommendation

I went back to my family doctor because she received the recommendations from the psychiatrist consult I had. Neither of us were satisfied with his evaluation of me,  or his proposed method of treatment. We are going to get a second opinion from a different psychiatrist.  I don’t know if I presented really well that day,  or he didn’t deem me that serious, or he just couldn’t see the seriousness of my depression (I was much more anxious that day). Probably it was a combination of the three.  Either way,  I knew when I left the office that day that I was unhappy with the appointment. I am really glad that my family dr got the same feeling from his letter.

So,  I am to continue on the prozac and clonazepam, and stop the wellbutrin in two weeks. By then I’ll have the appointment set up with the new psych. My dr thinks the psych will take me off the wellbutrin and substitute it with something else. Sigh.  It’s so frustrating. I can feel that the depression is lifting but the anxiety is still high. I just want to get better,  and I’m sick of this waiting game/runaround.

Had some tears of frustration today but have been overall not too bad the past few days.

If there was a pill to make you feel better, would you take it?

I met with the psychiatrist yesterday. He irritated me, taking his notes and deciphering me in 60 minutes. Middle-class? Check. No childhood trauma? Check. History of family depression and anxiety? Check. No eating disorder, OCD or mania? Check. You’ve got depression exacerbated by anxiety. Go away.

To be fair, he was thorough. But the problem is “I present so well.” I look put – together, I can sit and have a conversation with anyone, I save my falling apart for later. The only people who see me fall apart are my partner, sister, and therapist. So why should I expect the psychiatrist to see how anxious and depressed I really am? I look fine. My symptoms are not obvious.

He said that he would not have prescribed the wellbutrin, but he would have kept me on the clonazepam. He said he would write a recommendation letter to my GP, and that she would be the one to make the ultimate decisions, along with me. He pissed me off, because I think the wellbutrin is just starting to work. Granted I’m edgy, nervous and agitated, but I’m getting stuff done! For the first time in a month. I’m laughing again. I don’t want that to go away. I take ativan for when I’m really strung out. I used to struggle against taking them, because they can be addictive, but I won’t become addicted. I’m too careful and overthink everything. I’ll debate whether I should take an ativan for half an hour.

Would you take a pill if it made your life easier? That is the ultimate question. And the answer, for me, for now, is yes. I need to quieten the jumble of anxiousness in my head,  so I can rest. My mind races and races and races,  like the proverbial guinea pig in the wheel,  and I just need it to stop sometimes. So I take an ativan or a clonazepam and it stops, temporarily. It’s my saving grace right now.  So I don’t go completely mad.

In two more weeks I see my GP and hear what the psychiatrist recommends. Asshole couldn’t tell me and save me some grief? For fuck’s sake. I’m anxious enough, let’s just wait some more.

My mood is frustrated but hopeful.  Being pissed is better than being sad. The wellbutrin is starting to work. My therapist had “graduated” me to seeing him every two weeks,  an improvement over weekly. I have hope, even though trying to figure out meds and moods and symptoms and reactions is exhausting.