Can I please be a shapeshifter now?

Fuck. I was supposed to do things today, I like don’t even remember what they were – except that one was to get a short ‘androgynous’ haircut. I did other stuff, which I guess is good. But not the things that would’ve made packing for a 3-day family thing tonight much much easier. Or, you know, having it done already.

I cut an overdue phone conversation with Banji short to go pick Fox up. When we got home Mom was waiting for us. We had some good conversation; she’s helpful. But I was thirsty and starting to freak out that our fancy clothes were wrinkling in the wash. So I excused myself (not an easy task with Mom) and took care of it. I could tell I was on the edge, needed space from her.

I come out of the laundry room to Mom holding a blouse. It’s a thing with her. She has her ideas of what I should wear and tries to be helpful and I feel like she’s forcing her own style onto me. It’s worse now being openly genderfluid because feminine clothing tends to trigger my dysphoria.

90% of the time I go ‘gender neutral’: jeans cut for a person with big hips and thighs, a ‘unisex’ t-shirt or hoodie (or tank top), walking shoes that are marketed to men. Harder to do that with formal wear. So I’ve got my general “what to wear” anxiety on top of “fuck people are going to misgender me” anxiety on top of “I don’t even know if I’m going to feel more masculine or feminine” anxiety on top of “what will Fox’s family think if I go masculine?” anxiety. (I have a binder and a men’s dress shirt and I want to say I’m not afraid to wear them but honestly I kinda am.)

And apparently we’re sharing a room with his sister now, I thought it was gonna be just us (his parents are paying for it). So my hope that this would be a sort of extended ‘date night’ enjoying ‘us time’ away from our normal routine is … well, maybe not shattered, but more complicated. We can’t necessarily just retreat to our room if we need space (or want to do stuff that requires privacy) we have to coordinate with his sister. Who … how do I put this diplomatically? … well, she’s my husband’s sister.

My brain broke and it’s taking all my effort not to be an asshole.

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Still Wounded

I wrote a post about 5 days ago, but didn’t post it because I had to drive Fox somewhere.

I just want to give a quick update before I share the post: it turns out I was transferred to Fox’s prescriber at the same clinic where I’ve been going, so I was able to make an appointment with her (just in time to refill my meds). The “epic quest” was not so epic after all – thank God. (I’m still having trouble believing it.)

This turn of events was extra good because I was able to use my doctor’s appointment to address some problems that have been bothering me for a while. I apparently have arthritis in my knees; he sent me to get x-rays, which may result in physical therapy that will (hopefully) alleviate some of the pain so I can be active, healthy, and happy(er than I am when I’m sedentary). I’m also (hopefully) going to have a sleep study done to figure out what’s causing my chronic fatigue (you know, besides the depression), and blood work for good measure. My conversation with my doctor has me feeling more motivated to try and actually eat healthy foods, which is an important part of self-care.

Anyways, without further ado, here’s the post I wrote 5 days ago:

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The Epic Quest for a New Prescriber

At my last psychiatric appointment, my prescriber of nearly 3 years (an awesome advanced practice nurse) informed me that she’s retiring – and the community mental health clinic where I’ve been receiving care isn’t hiring a replacement. There wasn’t any offer to help me find a new prescriber or set me up with one. She just gave me a list of numbers to call, and sent me on my way.

I knew I should’ve started the search immediately, but I was stressed out by the idea so I did what I do best: I procrastinated. I got distracted. I focused on just about everything else. To be fair, “the incident” happened soon afterward; I needed time and energy to recover from that. (Things are going well, by the way, update pending.)

Two months have passed.

Somehow my lamotrigine & clonazepam prescription refill cycles got de-synchronized, so I’m in a kind of weird situation. I used the last lamotrigine refill a few days ago; “additional refills require authorization.” I have 26 full doses left, including today’s. There’s still one more refill on the clonazepam.

So it’s crunch time. I need to find some way to refill these medications – preferably before I run out or resort to cutting pills in half. I honestly fear for my life if I have a disruption in access to my meds – if not my physical life, my ability to continue my activism and maintain healthy relationships. Perhaps more importantly, I fear losing the ability to do the things I need to improve my life – such as completing my degree, finding a job that pays a living wage, consistently functioning well in that job, and learning how to keep my home from becoming an unlivable nightmare. Even more importantly, I fear losing the ability to take care of myself, which includes the ironically (read: cruelly) daunting task of accessing and engaging in treatment.

These fears are among the most potent triggers for my worst depressive symptoms.

Oh, and by the way, my state just cut funding to community mental health. Clinics are closing or cutting whatever (whomever) they must to try and stay afloat. My current clinic no longer serves clients with private insurance, and it had to let go of its front desk staff.

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Star Trek: Next Generation characters Picard and Riker both facepalming. The text reads: “Double Faceplam. For when one facepalm doesn’t cut it.”

So, yesterday, I began The Search. My counselor (who helps me with behavioral approaches to wellness) had suggested that my primary care doctor could possibly authorize refills, so I called his office. They said he “might” be able to, “depending on [my] situation,” so I made an appointment. I’m hoping he can authorize a one month supply of the lamotrigine, and if necessary I can return to him for a three month supply of both medications. (Clonazepam is a controlled substance, so any ‘new’ prescriptions not filled within 30 days expire and need to be reauthorized – at least in my state.)

Even if my primary care doctor can help me, seeing him for psychiatric consultations is not sustainable. I don’t have, nor do I anticipate developing, the rapport I’d need to literally trust him with my brain. I need a specialist who really knows what they’re doing, especially if and when it becomes necessary to make adjustments to my medications. (Which may be soon, I’m still trying to figure out to what degree my current problems can be addressed through music therapy and changes in behavior, vs meds.)

Ideally I’d like to switch to the other prescriber at my current clinic, whom Fox has been seeing and seems to like. If not her, perhaps someone at another location in the same agency – surely that would provide some consistency of care, right? I called the intake office; the person who answered seemed surprised I hadn’t been referred to another prescriber. “Well, you might want to call the other numbers on your list, because we’re currently scheduling for September.” “September?” “Yes.” I hung up on them.

I started making some additional calls. Bad number. We don’t do that. We’re not accepting new clients. We’re currently at capacity, but may be hiring someone, you can check back.

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My to-do list item on Habitica.com with several steps checked, reflecting the efforts I put in yesterday.

There are several additional numbers on my list, but most of the clinics are in urban areas that may be … inconvenient … to access. Middle class suburban snobbery aside, I anticipate that these locations are even more likely to be “at capacity” or otherwise struggling to serve clients for whom they’re the only choice.

So I’m gonna try calling intake for my current clinic/agency back, see what they can do for me. (I realized later that September is only about a month and a half away.) Hopefully my doctor can set me up through August, maybe September as well; if there’s any interruption in my access to meds it will hopefully be short enough that I’ll be okay. And I’d rather have this set as a backup in case my doctor can’t help me and/or I can’t find a prescriber elsewhere; the longer I wait to make the appointment, the later it will be and the more likely this is to become devastating.