After seeing my new psychiatrist...

I don't think I like her.  And I hate that because she obviously wants to be much more involved in my treatment plan than my previous psychiatrist was.  After spending a grueling two hours with her yesterday...two hours that I didn't even remotely enjoy, she insisted on calling and talking to me for the first 20 minutes of the Colts game today.

She's already given me bad news.  She wants to change my meds again.  That will be the second time in ten days that my anti-depressants have been adjusted.

I spent the better part of last year being a science experiment for Dr. Callaghan, changing medications regularly, trying different combinations to try to get me to an even keel.  And at times it was painful.  I even spent a month on short-term disability due to the affects.  Obviously Dr. Woodward wants to do that same thing this year.  Not only is it expensive, it's scary as hell.

Dr. Callaghan reduced my Fetzima from 120mg to 80mg and increased my Latuda from 20mg to 40mg last week.  That happened a week ago Thursday.  I've been on those meds for less than ten days.  My new psychiatrist says that I should have already seen a change in my heart rate.  And obviously I haven't.  So she wants to change my meds again, lowering the Fetzima to 40mg.  So even though I already spent money on Latuda once this month and Fetzima twice this month, I get to spend more on Fetzima yet again.

Last year, I was on every dosage that Fetzima offers along with Latuda.  So I have absolutely no faith that taking 80mg less of the Fetzima will maintain any emotional stability for me.  But by Tuesday, we'll be trying it again.  She says that I should see a difference in my heart rate by the weekend.  She's going to call me next Monday to find out.  I can't wait. [sarcasm]

Also, she keeps telling me to let her know if I have any signs of 'discontinuation syndrome', which will feel like flu symptoms and last 3-5 days.  I'm not the least bit worried about freakin' flu symptoms that will last a few days.  I'm much more concerned about hitting another long depressive episode.  I can live with the damn flu!

She already told me to calm down and not take this as bad news, that I'd be bringing on a depressive episode with just my thoughts.  Great to know that my next depressive episode is already my fault.

I know this is blunt, but I'm going to say it anyway because this is how I feel today.  Being dead sounds much more appealing than being depressed.  Depression sucks more than any other feeling I've ever known EVER.