What do you do when life gets you down

[Faith No More]

Also, if I were to never or rarely get ill again, I probably still need to stay on meds for that.

There's nothing wrong with that. That is unless you plan on becoming a scientologist.

I used to never be able to imagine myself free of anti-depressants. I've been on them for 17 years now, but I didn't really find the best combination for me until 4 years ago or so. I've finally felt well enough and was able to convince my psychiatrist to allow me to stop taking one of two meds that I take. It's been about 10 months, and I haven't had any issues. I could actually imagine myself medication free at some point in the future.

I've also heard that people that experience mental illness at a young age such as you and I are more likely to grow out of it than someone whose illness didn't manifest until their mid to late twenties.

[festive1]

Am I the only one who has had issues with psychiatrists not being receptive to my input? I switched docs because of this, but still found the same problem with the new doc. Personally, when I get depressed, which has led to me being hospitalized, they look at my family history, see my dad is bipolar and automatically give me that label. I think my current diagnosis of complex PTSD with a side of dissociative issues is a better fit. I haven't been on meds for about 16-18 months now (aside from the occasional Xanax for acute anxiety, I took my last one on Monday, before that I haven't needed to take any for about a year). But my overall experience with psychiatrists has not been very good. In fairness, I've only owned up to the full history of my abuse about a year ago, so perhaps it was the doc not having full disclosure on my part?

[Edwardo Piet]

My first psychiatrist put me on lithium right away at 18 after my first episode of illness. According to my latest psychiatrist, that was probably a very bad idea and is almost unheard of. Since my overdose I've not been on lithium, I've been on semi-sodium valproate and I seem stable on it.

@ Faith No More.

Yeah, obviously taking meds all your life is not such a bad thing. It's just that if it could be truly known at some point that it was no longer necessary I'd like to be meds free purely because of the side-effects to meds.

[Faith No More]

Am I the only one who has had issues with psychiatrists not being receptive to my input?

I do get that feeling with my psychiatrist that I switched to two years ago, but that might also be because my original psychiatrist gave me a lot of freedom and leeway. In fact, looking back, it was probably too much freedom. I could just walk in and say, "I need more ativan," and sure enough, I would be leaving with a prescription with a higher dosage. At the time I thought that was the greatest thing since sliced bread, but it was probably quite detrimental, too. My new psychiatrist also chewed me out for stopping a medication without talking to her first, and my first doctor would allow me to make the decision on my own on whether or not to continue taking a drug.

And, yes, full disclosure is key to proper treatment.

[Angrboda]

Thank you for your compliments, it makes me feel lucky.

If we can have a great life without any difficulties I think that that is better. I think ease is good. But it's just not realistic. At all. Realistically I think life is only really worth living when we have the ability to strive through difficulties, i.e. when it's not easy. Because, in reality, a lot of pleasure seems to come from that, and it also helps us cope with suffering.

The suffering and strangeness teaches you things that others will never know, or may even suspect. It's not compensation, but there is a bit of good in any storm.

---

I just said on another thread, I'm emotionally masochistic which probably explains why I can be happy as Larry and sad as fuck at the same time.

I experience this, though I've only been mixed mode once. My Taoism is patient and forgiving, my Shaktism is violent and aggressive. My religions help me visualize, understand and accept, who I am - fierce or friendly.

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When I've been depressed, people don't know it. It's all in my head. I can still function, I can smile and laugh and seem to have a good time. Meanwhile, my brain is just a churning, seething mass of unpleasantness... Until I hit a wall, then I can't function at all and have obsessive self-harming thoughts. Then it's off to the hospital for me. That's happened a few times. Now I've stopped trying to outrun it, facing it is awful, but it's better than wanting to hurt myself.

Don't be afraid to give in and let go. It can be scary, but the cost is usually less than bare knuckled holding on. I've been hospitalized 20-30 times, and have no regrets.

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I had no idea what I felt in my most depressive case except confusion and I couldn't even tell whether I was anxious or not. And there was the fact that when I was "happy" it's somehow "not real" and I felt like a fake.

A million times this... The feeling of being fake, not real, loss of a central identity... Yup, that about sums it up for me, then the negative thoughts kind of take over to fill the void, because there's no denying the pain is real, which is really bad.

I used to struggle with this, bad. I'm very capable when well, so I want desperately to tell myself I can get back there just by willing it. I don't know. Maybe over the years, being committed, and realizing just how sick I am, not occasionally, but all the time, I'm over the bullshit self-blame now. I still ruminate and have times when my thinking is nothing but dark, but it's easier to see now. They say that coping and symptoms plateau out in your late 30s to 40s, maybe that's what I'm seeing now. Because I see a lot more level behind the mountains than I ever did before. (Says she who just left the hospital after a Haldol overdose [mild overdose]).

---

I don't recommend this for the average person, but for you, yes... You should visit the US, we could roam, drunkenly shouting at people *Bonus* we could do this at the Capital Building or the White House.... I have so many fantasies about going downtown and screaming at people, a little liquid courage would help make that a reality... Then being arrested by the park police... Okay, maybe not.

actualy i dont drink alcohol during the week, but if i had a bad week it certainly adds to the amount i drink on the weekend.

I drink a lot these days. I don't think I'm alcoholic, but I'm enjoying my tequila (and other things). My worker thought otherwise, given that I'm basically bankrupt; so I fired her.

---

Am I the only one who has had issues with psychiatrists not being receptive to my input? I switched docs because of this, but still found the same problem with the new doc. Personally, when I get depressed, which has led to me being hospitalized, they look at my family history, see my dad is bipolar and automatically give me that label. I think my current diagnosis of complex PTSD with a side of dissociative issues is a better fit.

Sadly, I find that on the lower end of the pay scale, you find many professionals who are either not particularly competent, interested only in a paycheck, or are simply maximizing the turnover between in basket and out basket. Sadly, it's an effect of the market economy, I think. I've had good professionals, but the bad outnumber them by about 4:1.

---

Am I the only one who has had issues with psychiatrists not being receptive to my input?

I do get that feeling with my psychiatrist that I switched to two years ago, but that might also be because my original psychiatrist gave me a lot of freedom and leeway. In fact, looking back, it was probably too much freedom. I could just walk in and say, "I need more ativan," and sure enough, I would be leaving with a prescription with a higher dosage. At the time I thought that was the greatest thing since sliced bread, but it was probably quite detrimental, too.

I had one consult with a psychiatrist who referred to that as "cowboy medicine'. Regardless, my 'cowboy psychiatrist' was one whom I received the best care from - not because he was a rubber stamp, but because he was smart, competent, and we trusted and respected each other enough to not fuck each other. (He was so hurt when I saw him in ICU after OD'ing on lithium. He then or later, I forget, literally yelled at me about how scared I'd made him feel. I've never felt so... much, from anyone. I didn't think in those terms then, but after years of good and bad, you can't turn it off if you really care for your patients. That led to another good pro quitting: too much pain for too little help and recognition; she got out of the business.

[Cato]

Despite my atheism, if I remove God's invocation at the beginning, I love the wisdom of the Serenity Prayer. This helps with sorting out the intellectual side; however, when my emotions elicit a physical anxiety I used to take $20 to the local batting cage and hit 90mph fastballs until I ripped my the calluses off my hands. I did this one night after about five years of no physical activity and found the next day my obliques to be so sore that I could hardly wipe my own ass.

Today I shed the physical part by grabbing some beer, cranking the amp up to just below the level of breaking windows, and violently play the most aggressive music I know. I don't think I can adequately describe my sense of relief and peace when I'm finished. Pure clarity follows.

[festive1]

I like the Serenity Prayer too, though I also omit the "god."

[jonb]

I might read a book like 'A happy death', by Albert Camus and stop pursuing happiness.

[Jackalope]

I check out. Disconnect. Isolate. Withdraw into myself, and lose myself in the process.

I've been struggling particularly hard for the last year since becoming physically disabled, as the healthy avenues I had for remaining connected with the world are things I cannot currently do.

On the bright side, I've been medication-free for 11 months, other than very occasional alprazolam. My diagnosis is bipolar disorder, PTSD, dissociative disorder - a trifecta, what do I win? It's interesting how diagnoses of mental disorder evolve as the layers are peeled away.

It's frustrating as hell. I was voluntarily hospitalized in April-May of 2011, and exited with a new appreciation for life and was becoming much more active and feeling great about myself.

Five months down the road I suffered a potentially fatal illness that has left me crippled. (I hate that word, but there is no other way to effectively express it.) Although I shared a lot about my ordeal here as it unfolded, I haven't said much publicly about the aftermath. Progress derailed, and I'm left feeling like I'm starting from scratch again.

I needed to vent a bit. Thanks to the OP for starting this thread.

[festive1]

(((Hugs))) to everyone.
I'm a dork like that, and a hugger.
Venting is good, much better than bottling everything inside.
I hope we all find our peace.