So today was D-Day, or as any normal person would call it, Doctor day, in fact no. They would probably just call it Thursday.
I have been weirdly nervous about this appointment, I guess it’s because I haven’t seen my regular doctor for a while and I had a long list of things I needed to discuss with him. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to this appointment.
It all started about 1AM this morning, I was lying in bed, unable to sleep as has become a bit of a regular thing recently. And suddenly, all my ridiculous fear about my appointment, work, being late for this appointment, fear of being sectioned culminated in the worst panic attack I have had for about 10 months. I genuinely thought I was going to die. My heart was racing, I felt like I was going to throw up and pass out. I was too scared to sleep in case I chocked on my vomit. I was slightly breathless. I remember trying to check for my pulse and being unable to concentrate long enough to count it. And that was scaring me more. When the symptoms finally surpassed, my only thought was “great! Now I have something else to talk about tomorrow!” I slept poorly and woke early to get to work for 8:30. I wanted to finish as early as possible. My mental clock works weirdly, I am always early. Like an hour early. I wanted to be home by 1PM to get ready for my 3:20PM Appointment.
I crashed today, I had been feeling kind of numb, I thought I was happy but I guess not. I was pretty sad most of the day and it was painfully noticeable. People kept asking if I was ok. Luckily I made jobs for myself in the stock room and didn’t have to leave the area.
I wrote my list of things I needed to talk to my doctor about: My increase in depressive symptoms, the return of my panic attacks, my self harming, my inability to sleep and my pain in my shoulders. I told my doctor all of these things and in all honesty, I feel a little more sad now than I did when I went in. I don’t think there is anything that can be done to help me. The doctors seem to really want me to go into therapy, any kind of therapy. But in reality I doubt it will help me. I struggle with talking at the best of times, especially to strangers.
So, I had my Citalopram increased to 40mg, I am not particularly happy or excited about this, I don’t think Citalopram is the drug for me. I think I may have to make an appointment for two weeks time just to cover myself. I don’t want to do anything stupid. Citalopram has made me fairly volatile. It was suggested that I could possibly start taking beta blockers for my panic attacks, whilst I have never heard of them being taken for this purpose, there seems to be a fairly mixed reaction online. To be honest, I would prefer to go back to taking Fluoxetine and taking something that can stop my panic attacks. My doctor seems so positive that I can be fixed, I do not agree. I can take the despair, its the hope I can’t stand.
We didn’t talk about my back pain, we didn’t talk about my self harm, in fact, he didn’t even ask to see my cuts. Although, he did see some of them when he checked my blood pressure. We mostly talked about panic attacks. I told him about my terrible panic attack, how I felt like I was going to die. I said “I thought I was going to die, I know it sounds stupid now,” he told me it wasn’t stupid and explained what a panic attack was which, whilst made me feel slightly better did in fact make me feel a little worse. I told him I had been writing because it made things better for me and how writing had made me feel both better and worse, he seemed confused, but when I explained that it made me see things I hadn’t seen before he seemed to understand.
So I have decided to start taking the 40mg from Saturday. I have two days off so if I get any strange symptoms at least I am home. Maybe my lack of sleep is a withdrawal from the Fluoxetine, I came off of it rapidly. Infact, I just stopped taking it and started Citalopram the next day.
So who knows, maybe this increase will help me. Maybe I need something entirely different. Maybe I need to be more assertive and tell the doctor what I want. I’m feeling too down to really focus on concluding without saying something dumb about people not needing me, or me not being here, so I guess that’s it.
The Elephant in the Room