![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Why I'm not posting
Oct. 22nd, 2024 11:30 pmI have been waiting for my regular psychiatrist to come back from sick leave. My appointments kept getting pushed back for about a month or longer than they should have. I was finally set to get a call from her on Tuesday, but on Monday they called me and said that she will be out indefinitely. I just started crying. I have been waiting for so long to try out a new long-term medication and now I was set up with another practitioner that I have never seen before from the same office. Now I’m going to have to explain my whole journey and how I was on Lexapro for over three years, but it contributed to a 50lb weight gain. And the last med, Latuda, made me go down a path that I have gone down before, and I am lucky to have made it back. I have just been supplementing with Ativan, but it’s not great to take every day. It makes me dry and constipated and when it wears off, I am right back, if not worse than where I started with my anxiety. I am not well.
Every single day is a struggle to keep going. Every single day is a struggle to keep going. Every single day is survival. Every single day is a battle to wash my hair, to brush my teeth, to go to work, to take care of Caleb, to maintain the relationship, to get up. To get up. There is no joy. My house plants are dying. I have no friends. There are no comforts. Food tastes bland. Ativan takes away IQ points and I lose words while I teach. I am tired, but it’s hard to sleep because of the racing thoughts. My brain likes to send me images of all the times I made mistakes, or done something embarrassing, or remind me of the fact that I can’t keep a friend to save my life.
I think I need to go searching for another therapist, but I am a person with slight abandonment issues, and the last one flat out abandoned me. She flat out forgot that she was supposed to reschedule yet another canceled appointment. I can’t keep a therapist to save my life either. Am I cursed? How did my life end up this way?
There are good things. The relationship is strong. My little family is strong. We go out every night and walk and talk. If it wasn’t for them, well, I don’t want to think about it.
My next appointment with the new practitioner is on Tuesday. I hope she’s a good one. I am so not in a good space for someone new, but I have no choice.
Every single day is a struggle to keep going. Every single day is a struggle to keep going. Every single day is survival. Every single day is a battle to wash my hair, to brush my teeth, to go to work, to take care of Caleb, to maintain the relationship, to get up. To get up. There is no joy. My house plants are dying. I have no friends. There are no comforts. Food tastes bland. Ativan takes away IQ points and I lose words while I teach. I am tired, but it’s hard to sleep because of the racing thoughts. My brain likes to send me images of all the times I made mistakes, or done something embarrassing, or remind me of the fact that I can’t keep a friend to save my life.
I think I need to go searching for another therapist, but I am a person with slight abandonment issues, and the last one flat out abandoned me. She flat out forgot that she was supposed to reschedule yet another canceled appointment. I can’t keep a therapist to save my life either. Am I cursed? How did my life end up this way?
There are good things. The relationship is strong. My little family is strong. We go out every night and walk and talk. If it wasn’t for them, well, I don’t want to think about it.
My next appointment with the new practitioner is on Tuesday. I hope she’s a good one. I am so not in a good space for someone new, but I have no choice.
