This is the page I use to keep up with diagnosis, doctors, appointments, symptoms, and medications. It can be a bit of a boring read, but if you want an explanation for the blog posts, it may be a good place to start.
I was born in October of 1998. I was always a quirky kid. Dual-enrolling, I graduated from being homeschooled in May 2017. In December 2017, I graduated from College 1with my Associate in Art degree. After taking the spring off, I started at College 2 to pursue a degree in Community Spanish Interpretation. In August 2018, I began dual enrolling at University for a BS in Communications.
As a child, I experienced auditory and visual hallucinations. I never received help, however, they eventually went away, only to return again a few months later. At 14, I lost control over my mind and attempted to take my own life. I also lost control over my body and would randomly jerk or make high-pitched noises. I would later learn that these were called “tics” and in June 2018 I would be diagnosed with Tourette Syndrome.
In May/June of 2018 my mental health began to seriously deteriorate. I was experiencing strong thoughts that I could not control. I felt the intense urge to peel off all of my skin because I was dirty. I wanted to die. So badly I wanted to die. My mind was so dark. I would think about things such as men stepping on babies and was concerned that I was a slut and that everyone knew. I also had begun to see the shadow people again, but not a soul would know about that for many many months.
July was a stressful month, and if you’re at all familiar with mental health, then you know that stress + mental illness are a recipe for utter disaster. At the beginning of the month, my car died. The fix was worth more than the car itself and I was reliant upon others. Stress. I helped at a camp that I so dearly loved, but it added stress. I had an internship five states away, an absolutely amazing experience, yet it created stress. On July 25th, I experienced a painful breakup, which caused immense emotional stress.
By September, things got worse. There were so many episodes of disassociation. One left me having written a suicide note without any remembrance. Another left me with many cuts. I was drinking at 1pm on a Saturday.
Middle of September I moved into my own apartment with my roommate, who you all know as G. Things were great, but my mind was worse. I decided to go to the counselling center at University. After 3 visits, the lady determined that something more sinister was wrong and sent me to Psychiatry Office 1. September 20th was my first visit, where I was diagnosed by Doctor P with obsessive compulsive disorder and borderline personality disorder. On my first visit. If you know anything about personality disorders, they cannot be diagnosed early and having them on your record can be detrimental to ones treatment. I was given a prescription for 50mg fluvoxamine and called it a day.
September 27th, 2018 was a rough day. After having a “mental flip”, I called a hotline as to not be a burden to my dear friends, which had me led to Hospital 1 involuntarily by seven cops. I was in the behavioral health center until discharge on October 4th. I was diagnosed with OCD, anxiety/post traumatic stress disorder, and recurrent major depressive disorder. They omitted my BPD diagnosis. They upped the fluvoxamine from 50mg to 200mg in three days and my body felt the aches. I was given hydroxyzine 50mg which did absolutely nothing for me.
October 25th was my next visit with my psychiatrist, where I was told, even after my BPD omission, that I needed to learn to control myself and to convince myself that everything was my BPD lying to me. When I received a bill in the mail, I called bullshit and switched psychiatrists the next day.
I now attend Psychiatry Office 2. The new doctor, Dr. K, is on the fence about Bipolar Disorder and Schizoaffective Disorder and has so graciously granted me with Alcohol Dependency Disorder. The therapist focuses on my OCD and Depression, while the doctor medicates me primarily for psychosis. I was prescribed risperidone 1mg on November 7th, and on November 27th it was bumped up to 2mg.
On November 21st, I had another flight with a hospitalization. My brain was so heavily focusing on the thought of stabbing myself, I reached out to IFHS Crisis Chat. They sent a woman to my house, Mrs. J, who made me go to the hospital. There, the psychiatrist believed that I had mania which was being worsened by my SSRI (the fluvoxamine). How I managed to talk him out of keeping me, I’ll never know. Upon walking out of the room, his last words to me were “Don’t make me regret this,”
Psychiatry Office 2 has dubbed me with mania and in December 2018 gave me a diagnosis of undiagnosed subtype of Bipolar Disorder. I was also rated “severe” on the alcohol usage disorder scale. On December 27th, I was started on 25mg of Setraline (Zoloft), one week later it was to be doubled to 50mg nightly.
January 21st, 2019, my life changed forever. I peed on a stick – and it wasn’t negative. The next day, I showed up at my Psychiatrist’s office and was immediately switched from Risperidone to 80mg Lurasidone. The panic attacks worsened, and within two weeks Busiprone 20mg was added to my medication list.
Lurasidone did nothing. My mental health was spiraling and no medicine was helping. In March 2019, the psychiatrist, against his better judgment, gifted me with 2mg Risperidone to replace the Lurasidone. I was listed as a high risk pregnancy because they were afraid I was going to kill myself. Good times.
I’ll update as new things happen.
If I survive, I’ll update tomorrow,