As I said yesterday I took a step on a new path of this journey and went and saw a Dr that specializes in mental health issues. There has been some debate amongst an inner circle of friends that this should have happened months ago, and the Dr felt the same way. Me on the other hand, I don't think any of us dealing with my illness knew what we were looking at. Myself included. One of the things that the team of doctors and therapist along with myself have been chasing is the grief and depression caused by Deanna's accident, which surely started around the time of Little Dustin's 3 years prior and was just exacerbated by the naive thought that this "could not possibly happen again and what is wrong with me that this horrible thing happened to my family not once but twice. I am the common factor I made this happen... " (glimpse into how fast my thoughts can derail). Anyway my point was we have been chasing what has happened in my life mainly since April 20th 2013. My doctor saw in front of her a broken woman over the death of her daughter, a woman who had panic attacks, a woman who cried uncontrollably and could not sleep. My talking Dr saw the same thing, as well as, dealt with weekly issues that was happening around me. Everyone was doing everything they could to make me better.
Every time someone asked me.. "When did this start?" the response was the same. "When the accident happened." It was a truthful answer, my life fell completely apart at that moment. Everything about me shifted and changed and we dealt with everything that was happening in front of us. So let me just say this right now.. IT IS NO ONES FAULT AND NO ONE COULD HAVE SEEN THIS COMING!!! I really didn't either, and yesterday when I left the new Dr's office I looked just like Wil E up there. Shell shocked.
I am going to now tell you how the appointment went because it was a story in itself. I walked in and the man says.. "What are you here for?" first racing thought was... why don't you know why I am here.. I said "because after almost 2 years I am no better". He says.. "no better from what?".. next racing thought.. this man has NO IDEA why I am here... (insert beginning of panic attack, shaking hands, heart pounding.. OMG I am going to have to tell him the whole story) my response.. "Depression.. I am no better from the depression" him.. "Why do you think you are depressed?".. by this point you can imagine that the panic had full force ensued and I am not sure what was really said but a ramble of words and some mention of the accident) I was then asked if I was on medication.. I perked up at this point and very proudly reached into my bag and handed him the bottles that I remembered to bring with me for just that reason. I explained that I had just recently started taking my meds again and that the dosages before were X Y and Z and Z was taken off because it had a bad effect with me.. and (insert another rambly here) He looks at me and says.. "What did you say to that doctor to have her prescribe XYZ123 to you in that dosage?" SKKKKIIIIIRRRRRTTTT back up .. did you just berate me doc? I calmly said "I didn't SAY anything" He requestions.. "What would cause her to prescribe that to you?" I said well probably because I was sitting in her office in a complete disaster.. because I was having massive anxiety and panic attacks and I could barely function." (at this point I am getting prickely) He says "ok.. but that is a high addictive medication and that dosage.. blah blah blah" me.. "Doc I can assure you that I am not addicted to them.. not now not ever I stopped taking them cold turkey last March and at the time I had lots left over because I didn't take it unless I felt I was in a situation I needed it.. if I felt the panic and anxiety coming on. I do not like taking pills of any sort so taking more than I needed seemed gross and I take them now just to sleep.. they do help me go to sleep." Doc seemed to relax a bit, thank goodness because I was not feeling it at this point.
Next thing.. more question on how long I had been depressed.. 21 months... talk talk talk back to how long had I been depressed. Since April 2013... talk talk talk back to how long.. 21 months and 1 day. talk talk talk.. Ok let's fill out this check list..
Me: √√√√√√√√ "Doc.. I am checking all of these this can't be right.." he says to check all that apply. Me: √√√√√√√√√√
As I hand the paper back I am in tears.. every box is checked under the title Depression. Next I get a new list.
Me: √√√x√√√√xx√√√x Ok yay not so bad.
Me: x√√√xx√√√xxxx√√√√ again.. some x's ok them I am ok! Shew.. thought of a minute there I was crazy.
Doc takes the lists and gives them a look over and the big... hmmmmm.. again we go back to .. when did you start with depression. (insert brain thoughts.. omg.. wth.. wtf.. are we back here AGAIN.. DAMN IT .. WHEN MY DAUGHTER DIED, THE DAY OF THE ACCIDENT.. APRIL 20TH 2013.. 21 MONTHS AGO.. ALMOST 2 YEARS AGO.. 21 MONTHS AND ONE DAY AGO... all of which came slamming into me at one time. What was this guy not understanding??") He says something to the effect of, "Well this very clearly shows bipolar disorder but I find it hard to understand why you weren't depressed or manic BEFORE this..." oh wait.. what did he just say.. before? before the accident.. oh wait.. "Doc I have been depressed before this..... "
Him: (insert deep sigh and scribbling out stuff on paper) "Well that is what I was asking.. when did it START??" I said "I told you this time it started almost 2 years ago.." Him, "That is not what I want to know.. I want to know when was the first time you were depressed." Me "I don't know I don't keep track of it.. the 90's I guess.."
Insert some wrangling down to exact times and years and frustration over him wanting to know when I was up when I was down.. I DON'T F'ING KNOW YOU MORON.. I DIDN'T KEEP A RECORD OF I AM DEPRESSED ON MARCH, 27TH 1992. WHO THE HELL DOES THAT?? JUST FIX ME I WANT YOU TO FIX ME... (brain derailed again)
There was some talking I don't remember about what really.. pills.. wrong meds.. new meds.. texting every day.. blah blah blah but the bottom line is I am bipolar (also known as a Pro Bailer! which is much more exotic sounding.) So there you have it I am very official Looney Toons. I have papers that say so. This could have come in handy so many times in the past.. "Don't mind her .. she is just bipolar" and it does help explain some of the very questionable choices in the past. I have been an untreated, undiagnosed mental patient for 40 some odd years.
I finally get to leave the office and in kinda of a stunned state start relaying the story from above to Sisper.. when she chimes in and goes "Wait.. did you tell them about high school??" Oh somofabich!!! I totally forgot about that.. anyway the point is this has been going on longer than my brain would remember. Now we have a path.. we have a direction to head towards that could lead to being better and not living in a life of darkness and my daddy gets to tell people that his daughter is like Catherine Zeta Jones!!! What could go wrong??
The fun side of being a little bit off is that when you happen to riding down the road in a very busy section of town and see a sign that says "insert very ugly statement that should not be on a street corner" you are very apt to get out of the vehicle and remove the sign, which by the way was advertising buying ugly cars on the other side. You are also liable to throw the sign in the back of a truck which threatens to blow out later in the day.. can you see that scene?? A sign with a very pointed message flying out and landing with a splat on the windshield of the car behind? (the last part didn't happen the sign was safely disposed of in an appropriate trash container.) But it is just another story of my otherwise not so right brain in action and the driver being how to say.. "Don't mind her she is bipolar!"
Signing out after this very very long post about how one finds out they are a Pro Bailer.
Love the president of the club!