I want to believe my doctor, because he’s my doctor. But even when he explained to me what the plan was to address my throat clearing, I was looking at him like an idiot.
So much that he even mentioned the look that I had on my face.
He did the nose, ears and mouth thing and found no sign of infection. He asked all the questions that were under the sun, because that’s what doctor’s do. I said no to all of them, and then I suggested to him about anxiety. He looked at my medications and told me that both of them were for anxiety. That we should just increase my dose because I was on the minimum of each.
This is the part where I step in. Because my doctor doesn’t know what it’s like to be me. To live inside this mind, in this body. I stood my ground and I told him I would not let him increase my dose of wellbutrin. Because often I find that it’s the cause of my mania. It feels like it would be the root of the anxiety, because it’s that kind of medication. But wellbutrin, helps to keep me well.
So then he suggested an increase in my other medication, Seroquel. Which I only take at night to counter act the wellbutrin. It shuts my brain down, and lets me get the rest I need to. I couldn’t understand how my nighttime meds would fix my throat clearing problem because it’s a daytime issue.
I didn’t feel confident with what he was telling me, but he didn’t want to prescribe me anything new. I made it clear that I wasn’t looking for any ‘take as needed’ medication, because I cannot be responsible for that. I made it clear that I cannot be taking anything that is addictive and habit forming. But by the end of the conversation I found myself thinking that those were the only options, and that’s why he wasn’t prescribing me anything new.
He did prescribe me a nasal spray, which I don’t understand what its purpose is for. I use it once a day, 2 sprays in each nose. He told me that it should help, but what? What can this nasal spray help?
And what did me doubling up on my Seroquel help, like he prescribed to me? It made me sleep deeper, and longer. It made me feel heavy when I woke up. I felt rested, I felt hopeful that when I woke up my throat would be fine.
And I think it was, until it wasn’t. And now it’s worse than ever before.
I know I’m not supposed to call myself crazy because it feeds into the stereotypes that people put others into, it grows the stigma into something that resembles an overgrown blackberry bush. But I feel crazy. I feel like the craziest person on the planet.
I had a customer last night suggest that I take a sip of water, just before she hung up the phone. I laughed and I told her I was it were that simple. She told me that it sounded like I was catching a cold – I could only wish. I could only wish that this was a cold. I told her it was a nervous habit, and I could feel her sympathy right through that phone line.
Because I am feeling like I am going mad.
I just can’t stop.
Becoming Brave 