I’m just sitting thinking about my day, the more I think
about my doctor appointment, I just start feeling pissed. I’m manic my mind is
a racing. I’ve been in a panic all fucking day. My insides feel like a game of
air hockey. My appointment was with a psychiatric nurse practitioner. This was
my second visit. I was feeling very anxious about the appointment anyway and
not looking forward to it. I got shit about my medication the first time; I knew
the second trip was going to be worse.
I’m sure Kristen is a nice person and all that, but when I
hear, “I feel uncomfortable with your medications”; this is not going to be
pretty. For one she is not my medical doctor! She called my pharmacy even
though I gave her a sheet with everything I take and doses. That screams to me I
don’t TRUST you; you are a MORON you don’t know what you are taking. And people
wonder why I’m paranoid. Who would not pick up on that? I’m sure she sees all
types. But don’t lump me all together in one group.
This is all over Adderall and Xanax. Not Geodon, Resperdone,
Cymbalta, or Trazodone… go figure
Let me back up a second, I was first diagnosed with bi
polar, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bipolar_disorder a fancy word for manic depression, old school, in March of 1985. Three months
after my sister was killed in a car accident. I never had so much medication thrown
at me. I looked at the past 28 years of doctors that practiced on me. I wish I had
a dollar for every pill I have taken I’d be fucking rich. Ahh, but that’s in
all past. (It’s hard to type when you have eye lashes poking you in the eye) I was
diagnosed a short time later with a panic disorder and ADD now known as ADHD. http://www.webmd.com/add-adhd/adhd-medication-chart They
tried for 4 years with non-narcotic drugs. The benzo family http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benzodiazepine was introduced to
me in the hospital on one of my many visits. I have tried them all and Xanax works the
best. It is fast and when I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest
I want something to relieve it. When I’m all in a panic and anxious I don’t
want to wait 5 hours for a drug to work, I am worthless to myself and to others
when I’m in that frame of mind. I started out on stimulates in 1991, boy it
sure would have helped when I was going to college, my mind was always
wondering could not stayed focused to save my soul. Even with the Adderall my
mind still takes off and I feel like I’m spinning my wheels. It is better with
it than without it. I have to try harder and I get frustrated, discouraged, and
hopeless and shut down. How many people do you know can sit in a boat all night
and fish for 14 hours at a pop, and do it week after week, try it I dare you…
LOL I give most people 6 hours before they crack.
Trust is a two sided coin doctors don’t trust you or think
you don’t know what you are talking about. This was the place my insurance
found, the place that I went to shut its doors the first of June. I found out
the end of May. Sucks for me, because now I have to break in new staff. I have
been there 4 times each costing 35 bucks a pop. I have had an intake and then
another in take to see if I qualify for SMI (seriously mentally ill) http://www.samhc.com/SMI-Determination.php status. I have
had that label before hear and when I lived in MN. You are supposed to get more
services. I saw Kristen on July 10th
the first time. I left there that day with a bad feeling.
Kristen made a comment to me about mixing Xanax and some
vicaden I had gotten a couple of months ago when my neck flared up from falling
in the boat. Something about how dangerous it was. A Black Label warning. There
you go again, assuming that I know nothing… I’m not a FUCKING IDIOT for God
sake. She also said something about research saying long term use of barbiturates
causes dementia, like my brain has not been affected by all the ECT (electric
shock therapy) http://www.webmd.com/depression/guide/electroconvulsive-therapy give me a fucking beak. I got parts of my memory that will never
come back. I have whole chunks missing. No one gives a shit about that.
Whenever I see a doctor I feel like I’m on the defense, like
I have to beg for the medication I need. I get so sick of fighting… it makes me
feel like just quitting everything and telling everyone to get fucked. I take
the Adderall every day and I take the Xanax prn it could be twice a week or ten
times a week. I don’t keep track of how many I take, who fucking cares. It is
all about saving your ass and what the company believes. Doctors talk about
quality of life, I thought they were there to help you feel better, just make
you squirm.
I went into the hospital with pancreatitis about 6 years
ago. My spleen was larger than normal. I was there like 5 days. They basically
said I had cancer they didn’t know what kind. More tests, more money. Almost 2
years later they do a PET Scan, I have no cancer. The unknowing and waiting
were all hard on me. Thank God I don’t have cancer, the fear was hard and I felt
all alone, just me and my thoughts. They didn’t know so they told me the worse,
is that fucked up or what?
Then you throw in my medical marijuana card and that really
put there panties in a twist. We didn’t really discuss it, running out of time.
It was 6 years ago May 30 that I started smoking marijuana. The first time in
25 years. November 6, 1982 is my sobriety birthday, I check into the hospital
the night before to get sober. I was 21. This was my third attempt the first
time was when I was 15 and the second time when I was 17. I have not taken a
drink in over 30 years. I owe my life to AA. I have learned a few things in the
past 3 decades. I still go to meetings. I can only be true to myself no one else;
I have to be able to live with myself. I walked a straight line. I judged
people because they smoked pot; I used to think I was better than they were, puffed
out my chest and everything.
Back to May 30… I had just gotten out of the psyche hospital
after about 9 days. I was feeling suicidal and my thoughts were horrorable. I was
feeling trapped in my own body. They switched some of my meds around I made one
friend and we are still friends to this day. I thought I was feeling better and
I was discharged. What I know now is that I was hypo-manic. That night I crashed
hard I was having suicidal thoughts and just wanting to die. I can’t tell you
how many times I prayed to God for help. I had a plan, which I was going to
wrap myself up in a tarp and shoot myself in my shower. I figured out that I had
tried everything to feel better. I could have gone back into the hospital but I
was sick of that and there is nothing really to do. It is just a holding tank.
I was into Wicken
back then so I had a lot of herbs in my collection and I had some marijuana in
there as well. I had thought about smoking marijuana before. I even talked to
my therapist about it. She said not to do it. She never really gave me an
answer of why not. She died from colon cancer in February 2007.
I thought what do I have
to loose, I mean I was planning on killing myself, so I got out the marijuana
and smoke some. I tried to wake Jill up (she was living in the trailer next to
my house) she didn’t believe me, she went back to sleep. When I smoked it for
the first time in 25 years it made me a little paranoid. It also relieved that
depression and fear and wanting to die was lifted. I switched to medical grade
in 2010 when the law passed and I have not looked back. I’ve had nothing but
positive feedback on my mood.
Boy did I have to vent. I had to do something. I’ve been reevaluating
2 of my friendships. I’m still waiting to hear back from them since Saturday. Nothing
like getting blown off, I heard so many excuses of why they couldn’t call it
makes me sick. I hate it when people lie to your face as if you are so stupid.
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