WARNING: This is a (potentially risky) decision I have made for myself. It does not take the place of medical advice by a qualified mental health professional.
Today I had a conversation with 2 friends that confirmed a few thoughts I’ve been having:
- I will not go back to Psychiatrist B under any circumstances.
- I need to stop taking my current medications.
- Listening to music daily will improve my mood and possibly also my brain’s functioning.
- I need to be honest and talk about my disorder more often.
Psychiatrist B didn’t take my thoughts about harming myself and even committing suicide seriously, despite the fact that the drug he was prescribing me can cause such thoughts. He also needed assurance from me that it was worth gaining weight to have the possibility of recovering from a disabling disorder; that my mental health is more important than my appearance! (He also made the typical assumption that fat = ugly, which I have no desire to perpetuate.) As one of my friends put it, there’s a significant risk that if I keep going to this doctor, his problems will have a negative impact on my well-being. It also certainly doesn’t bode well that the “clinic” hasn’t made any attempts to contact me about rescheduling the follow-up appointment I canceled nearly a month ago.
Regarding my medications, the bottom line is: they’re not providing the relief I need. Regardless of whether they’re helping “somewhat,” the fact remains that they are not helping enough. And there’s the possibility that they are causing or contributing to some of my more disturbing symptoms. I haven’t been taking them for the past few days and to be honest it’s been a very rocky road. At this point I’m unsure whether I should hold my ground until they’re completely out of my system – or start taking them again in smaller and smaller doses until it’s safer to stop completely (or I run out). Everyone seems to think it’s better to wean myself off them slowly, but I’m concerned about what might happen if my levels spike again after being so low for the past couple days. It’s also a lot easier to just not take them than to try to figure out what doses would be appropriate and remember to take them regularly.
It’s recently come to my attention that I’ve been doing my readers and the companies that make certain brand-name drugs a disservice. I’ve been taking generic “equivalents” of Zoloft and BuSpar (sertraline HCl and buspirone HCl, respectively); prior to beginning this blog I was taking bupropion in place of Wellbutrin. Anyone reading my blog would think I was taking the brand-name drugs and that they were causing or contributing to the undesirable effects I’ve described. This is most certainly not the case. In Generic Versus Brand: What’s In That Pill? Part 1, Disorderly Chickadee sheds light on how generic formulations of brand-name drugs often are not as effective as the brand-name version; in some cases the difference in functioning one experiences can be “like a brain transplant.”
Most notably, there is a huge difference between Wellbutrin and generic bupropion, enough so that one generic formulation was recalled. It’s not the one I was taking, but it still raises some suspicion that I might have done a lot better if I’d taken actual Wellbutrin instead. I’m also wondering whether brand-name Zoloft and BuSpar would be more effective (and safer!) than the generic sertraline HCl and buspirone HCl I’ve been taking.
I don’t usually listen to music, unless you count the background stuff in Oblivion – which either alerts me to the presence of enemies or puts me to sleep. Yesterday I had the very pleasant experience of listening to some of the more upbeat tracks on a CD of instrumental Celtic music. The bass and percussion were very grounding and calming, helping me to feel safe … while the foregound instruments were lively and played complex melodies in compound meter.
I had a lot of fun listening to the music, felt calmer and happier, and thought it was having a desirable effect on my brain. It required enough of my attention that there was little to no room left for disturbing thoughts, and it seemed to help organize my brain. My hypothesis is that the regular firing of neurons involved in listening to the music (which are located throughout the brain) may have provided the stimulation, serotonin, dopamine, and information pathways my brain needed to function more effectively. I might need to experiment a bit to figure out how many times per day and for how long I should listen to music, as well as what types of music will provide the best effects … but overall I’m optimistic that listening to music regularly will help – a lot!
Finally, it felt really good to be honest about what I’ve been struggling with and have my friends accept my reality. They listened and shared their own related experiences, which helped me feel less alone in my struggles. They offered advice – some of which I found helpful – but more importantly demonstrated that they support me in my efforts to take care of myself. “You know you can call any of us any time you need to talk, right?” Yeah, I do; I just need a reminder that there are people who want me to reach out to them in my times of greatest need, when I feel like I’d be doing everyone a favor if I just ceased to exist.