So I need to vent. As you should all know if you follow my blog, I'm bipolar. Well, I have been without one of my meds for almost two weeks. Here is why:
When I moved from my last town in August, I had several months worth of pills left. Well, thinking it would be a quick and painless transition, about 3-4 weeks ago, I tried to set up an appt with a local psychiatrist to get my meds refilled. Well, apparently their office only accepts appointments with a referral. Having my old doctor fax my information to my new doctor was considered a referral, but apparently this process is taking a long time and a lot of pointing fingers in the delay, but I can't make an appt. until the information is received by the new doctor.
In the meantime, I've been out of one of my medications. You are often warned about the side effects of quitting psychotropic drugs cold turkey, so I decided to make an appointment with a general practice doctor in the same building. So, I got in today.... and that doctor... wow. I've never wanted to walk out of an office in my life and it took all my willpower not to! She was super rude, wouldn't make eye contact and didn't understand why I couldn't wait for an appt with the psychiatrist. She just kept asking if I was suicidal. I really wanted to tell her that I'm homicidal, but she didn't seem like the type of person who gets sarcasm or jokes of any kind. Long story short, she lectured me, told me she wasn't comfortable with it and told me I should try to make an appt with the psychiatrist.
Well, let me tell you. At this moment, I hate everyone and everything. I've felt this way since like two days after my meds ran out. I could literally give a 5-10 minute speech on why I hate every person I know (except my kids.) Do I actually hate them? I don't think so... maybe one or two... but at this point in time, I want to stab them all from their left eyebrow to the dimples in their knee caps. I get mad at the TV, I get mad at the wind. I'm in a constant state of rage and it makes me pity those around me. Add to this that I can't sleep and when I do I am having vivid dreams of pointless things. I wake up 80 times a night and give up around 6am when I don't have to be up until 8.
So, no DOCTOR, I am not SUICIDAL, but how about you take your cracker jack box degree back to where you came from (she's new to the clinic) and learn something called empathy... and tact... and being around other human beings.
FAIL.
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