Saturday, October 3, 2009

"Hey Mr. Tamborine Man"...I Mean PDOC..."play a song for me...I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to..."


That's how I see PDOC: My " tamborine (wo)man.
Just give me the drugs...so, as Bob so eloquently put it:
"The haunted, frightened trees out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow."
Take the drugs so you can forget...so you will be "quiet"
Yes, PDOC is my "drug dealer"



I’m a little ‘emotionally disregulated’ about the increasing “free flowing pen” scrawling on prescription pad. A few months ago, I told DT that I could see PDOC and get any drug I wanted. She said, “Do you really think that?” I replied, “Yes, I do…in fact, I’m confident.”
I have known my current PDOC for just under a year. I had a friend who had been seeing her for years and when DT was threatening the hospital I relented and made an *emergency* appointment with her. The previous PDOC I had seen was a QUACK who never listened to anything I said and pushed drugs at me that I looked him in the eye and said I would not take. Needless to say, I had a bad taste in my mouth about psychiatrists in general.


But I relented since the alternative was to be involuntarily committed and drugged up anyway. PDOC *listened* and during our first appointment, we talked about the different drugs available that *may* help me. And I told her I needed to do my own research, using her recommendations and I would let her know my thoughts the following week. I read and researched and the following week, I returned to her office and told her that out of the options she presented, Lamictal was the one I thought might work best – a ‘mood stabilizer’ (AKA – shut up and stop disrupting the MHP community) I had previously been on Welbutrin, Zoloft, Effexor…and for my inability to sleep I had tried Trazadone and Amitriptyline. That day, I left PDOC’s office with scripts for Lamictal, Ativan and Seroquel…oh, and a very expensive prescription folic acid drug called Deplin…which is supposed to make my body ‘absorb’ the drugs and make them ‘more effective’.

I was at a point where I knew that it was either be ‘compliant’ with the drugs or kill myself, so I took them as prescribed. I went back a month later, and told her that I felt a little ‘better’ ...was SIing less, puking less, had a few less suicidal thoughts…but still wasn’t sleeping well and the anxiety at night was still overwhelming (still on my quest for honesty and healing). I left that afternoon with an increased dose of lamictal, additional seroquel, increased dose of ativan and a new script for klonopin. I should add that I was also honest with PDOC that I did drink – and if you read any information about klonopin and ativan – drinking could enhance the effects of the sedative and repress your respiratory system. In layman’s terms: alcohol and benzos can kill you.


Prior to last week, it had been over 3 months since I had seen PDOC- at $250.00 an hour – I try to space the appointments out as far as I can. Last week, I told DT that I wasn’t going to tell PDOC about my thoughts of SUI and my SI setbacks. I’m not sure why…defiance, the fact that she would be ‘disappointed’ in my set-backs.

First, DT asked me if I wanted her to talk to PDOC. Um, hello, you cannot pick and choose when you’re going to ‘offer’ your support. NO! Then, at my continued defiance, she asked me how I would feel if she did call PDOC and tell her about my struggles – I told her to go ahead! I didn’t care –knowing damn well that she would never do it. She was welcome to go in my place!
In the end, I went to my appointment, and I was *honest* with PDOC. And guess what? She told me I should add ambien to my ‘dug cocktail’. ADD ambien …not replace any drugs with ambien- but ADD IT to the rest!

So, she gave me 2 weeks worth of ambien samples (ironically, in a brown paper bag) and told me to try it. I think that’s hilarious – now, I, a woman who struggles every single day with thoughts of suicide have in my tiny scarred self-injury suicidal hands – 3 months worth of ativan, klonopin, seroquel and now ambien.

THAT'S A LOT OF DRUGS!!! Like enough to kill an elephant!



I’m not feeling safe tonight. I am raging inside, the crying and arguing is overwhelming…and I keep looking at the bottles of sedatives – and the scissors and the razor blade – and I hear that voice in the back of my mind, pressing forward…”Grace, you know that’s what they are telling you. You’re not worth saving, Grace. The writing is on the wall…they have given you the tools…you just need to use them.”

I guess they don’t realize that if we all kill ourselves they are all out of jobs!
In response to DT’s question, “Do you really think PDOC would really give you anything you asked for?”

Yes, DT – in fact, she gives me a bunch of drugs I DON’T ask for…but I will use them. I’m confident. DT should be happy. I was honest with PDOC and now I can drug up and shut up for good. Really, it's just a 'legal' form of heroin - a way to "chill and forget" without the needle marks. AND! Insurance pays for it. I wonder if PDOC makes more money than the dealers on the streets....


3 comments:

  1. ((((Gracie))))
    Here sitting with you dear one!

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  2. That kind of "drug-'em-up and shut-'em-up" attitude really pisses me off. I'm thinking of you and sending (((((((safe hugs))))))

    ReplyDelete