I think the hardest part of dealing with mental illness (and a lot of illnesses, to be honest), is that you have to advocate for yourself. A lot. And when your thoughts (motivation, energy, etc.) are compromised, that’s really, really hard.
A few years ago, I was unmedicated and really, really depressed. I’d had a couple of early bad experiences with meds (Paxil can die in a fire) and was really hesitant about going back on them. Eventually, my despair about my despair was stronger than my uneasiness about medication side-effects. So, I went back on meds. Yes, I had to try a couple. Yes, I had to give them time to work; nothing is a magic fix. Nothing.
But eventually, wonder of wonders, I felt better.
Here’s the thing, though: sometimes better is not best possible. I was so happy to be more functional and not as sad/hopeless/etc. that I didn’t really want to question better.
Signs persisted that maybe I wasn’t doing as well as I could be. I still really struggled with enjoyment, motivation, periods of crippling hopelessness, anxiety, fatigue, oversleeping and overeating as comfort. But I felt better, you know? And since, quite frankly, I didn’t actually remember a time where I felt great!, I kinda thought better was as good as it could get. I was more functional. I was more engaged. I was happier.
But I was so, so tired. And I missed writing. I missed writing more than I’d ever missed anything in my life. If anything has ever been able to push me to get myself together, it’s always been writing.
About a month/six weeks ago, I went to see a psychiatrist because I’d been pushing my GP about the fatigue and lack of motivation and she referred me. He asked, “How do you feel?” and I said, with complete honesty, “So much better than I did.” And he said, “I hear what you’re saying, but here’s the thing: the answers on these questionnaires you’ve just filled out tell me you’re still struggling. Quite a lot. You may feel better than you did, but I don’t think you’re actually doing as well as you think.”
I was a bit gobsmacked, to be honest. I was doing so much better, right? The long and short of it is, he upped my dosage of the medication I’m taking. He suggested supplementary vitamins with peer-reviewed positive effects. He encouraged me to maintain my level of activity and increase it a little when I could. He outlined options for different kinds of talk therapy. He said, “Check in with your GP every couple of weeks and fill out those questionnaires every time.”
So, I doubled down on taking care of myself in all the ways I could. I upped my meds. I walked more. I cut back on things I had been overindulging on. I tried to aim for moderation instead of extremes. I started a regimen of vitamins. I practiced self-care as much as possible. I don’t mean for this to sound like it was easy, but I took the steps I could take and added to them as I felt better.
And, in case someone out there needs an anecdote to help them push for self-advocation, here’s the deal: I look back at the better I was feeling six weeks ago, and I can see so clearly how not-really-better it was. It was coping; treading water. The last couple of weeks, in particular, I’ve felt every positive change clicking in. I have energy all day even though I’m sleeping 7 hours instead of 10. I have motivation. I’m dealing with 85% less overwhelm. I’m taking risks and, amazingly, seeing some positive results. I’m juggling multiple projects and feeling good about them all. I’m writing again. And not tortured “I should be writing” writing. Joyful writing, like I haven’t experienced in months and months and maybe even years. Guys, I’m genuinely happy.
It’s still not a magic fix. There is no magic fix. My issues are chronic and I need to be aware of the potential for relapse. It’s just a thing I have to deal with. There are, however, tools out there that can help people. But, and this is the hardest part, you have to push for them. You have to keep asking. You have to make your GP understand that no, you’re not just tired. No, feeling this empty isn’t just a low patch. No, you don’t have all the answers but you know you need more than you’re getting right now. No, actually, writer’s block that lasts this long isn’t just a thing writers deal with. No, no, no. Dig your heels in. It’s really hard. Sometimes it’ll feel impossible. Take time to regroup. Then put up your fists and start fighting for yourself again. You deserve it.
Better is fine. It may not be the best possible, though. And you deserve to find the best possible.
Questionnaires: PHQ-9 (depression) and GAD-7 (anxiety). Monitor yourself and do not hesitate to talk to your GP about your results.
(via tinsnip)
