Three good days
About six weeks ago, I finally confronted my doctor about his poor listening and how very unsafe I had begun to feel with his caring for my mental health. He was (predictably) not terribly receptive, but he did finally agree to decrease my anti-depressant dosage. The high dosage had led to my inability to accomplish almost anything because I couldn't think or move or understand things. It was bad.
So tapering off was a painful period with physical, emotional, and psychological symptoms. But then I woke up last Sunday at 8:30am without an alarm clock and started thinking (with positive motivation) about the things I could do with my day. I had three days with this calmness and positivity. (Then things went a bit downhill again today.)
It makes me angry to think that I thought I was just super depressed when it was actually my medication making everything worse - and my doctor didn't do a thing to make sure to understand my experience. Even when I told him I had increased thoughts of suicide, had to contact a crisis line several times, and had to take time off work, he just responded with "ok, so I'll give you another three month prescription."
I am currently on a wait list to see a psychiatrist and another wait list to try to get a new doctor (big shortage of both around here). I see a therapist every two weeks (as often as I can afford) and I am so thankful that she was the one who helped me to see how overmedicated my brain was. Hopefully better things are coming.