I beg you please read this (long) post. I am in serious need.
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says… Dear asdm, snip Please help me. _Please_. I beg you. Thank you. Heather in California
I’m so sorry Heather, that you are having to deal with all this. Unfortunately, It seems that we must be completely broken down before our "system" will help. I live in California also and jumped through all the same hoops you have been going through and for many years. I have never had money nor insurance so I have always been on Medi-Cal and I’m now on the county MIA (medically indigent adult) program. I wouldn’t be medicated or treated if not for these programs. Call your county "Behavioral Health" and tell them you need to be evaluated, that it’s an emergency and urgent. Tell them about the suicidal ideation. Do not try to "keep it together" when you get to speak or see a psychiatrist or the person who is doing the evaluation. Be sure they know of your reaction when placed on antidepressants w/o a mood stabiliser. Go to the emegency room if you have to. The hardest part here is getting into "The System." I was dx’d as manic depressive only because a pdoc finally saw me in a mania. (I convinced them to do a 5150 on me, a 72 hour hold usually only done by law enforcement.) Ask family or friends for help with your mother. If she is disabled she is probably eligible for assistance programs, just as you are. Call social services and explain your situation (no money, no job, soon no home) and ask what services they can provide and what county, state or federal programs you may be eligible for, especially emergency ones. You can apply for SSI & SSDI through the Social Security office. State Vocational Rehab will help you figure out what employment would suit you and pay for training but these programs take months to approve you. Find out if there is an advocacy association for helping people find the programs and assistance that they need. One here is called Rolling Start. They will guide you and help you fill out the forms if necessary. See if you have something similar in your area. Call Salvation Army or churches or? and ask for immediate help (food, clothing, shelter.) they may not be able to do much but might have resources. Call your local women’s shelter. I will be thinking of you. Email if you’d like. carol caroly~vonne
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– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I am a new poster here. I need your direction. I don’t have anywhere else to turn. I’m female, in my middle thirties, and I know something is wrong with me, but I’m not sure what. …The last time I went through this was in March. I believed might have PMDD. I saw an OBGYN (nice guy, but in a terrible hurry). He put me on Serafem. I told him then and there that I couldn’t handle SSRIs (been there, done that, ten years ago) but he wrote the script anyway, said — try again. I lasted about four days on Serafem. Not a wink of sleep the whole time, and every symptom I have was exaggerated. I thought I might lose my mind. … … I look back on my life and I realize that something has been wrong with me since childhood. In grade school I was diagnosed (by a school psychologist) with "social phobia." I had panic attacks all though elementary school, coming to a head in intermediate school when I became so afraid of everything and everyone, I refused to go to school at all. … …I went to work for a large bookstore chain. I worked for this bookstore in various capacities until 1999. Of course I garnered a reputation for being something less than a loyal, team player — I was absent a lot due to wildly shifting mood swings (which I attributed to PMS). … I went to a psychiatrist, told her my job was on the line and that I suspected I had ADD. She prescribed Ritalin. I took the Ritalin faithfully, but its affect on me was bizarre: I could concentrate, yes! With the intensity of a laser beam I could concentrate: on a spot on the wall. I would spend hours obsessing over the placement of a comma in a memo. … Morbid thoughts. Suicide ideation. Zero self-esteem, zero self-confidence, zero hopes for the future. This is where you find me today. … I am responsible financially not only for myself, but for my aging mother. She has no income save her social security, and that does not cover much. There’s no pension: she too has a history of depression. … If I do not work, I will end up on the street, quite literally, and so will my now seventy-three year old arthritic and increasingly mentally incompetent mom. You might see why I am in a panic. … If I make an appointment to see yet another county doctor (health care for the indigent), he will listen to me for about five minutes, write a script for god knows what, and tell me to make an appointment to see him again in two
weeks … (and I strongly suspect the first cause is NOT PMS or PMDD: the symptoms of either malady are not supposed to last all month, every month — nor are they accompanied by what I have come to see as states of abnormal hyper-activity and euphoria, oddly interwoven with black-as-night depression).
Heather, it sounds to me quite likely that you have bipolar disorder, from the things you’ve said. It also sounds like you are a sensitive, loving, intelligent person with a lot to offer, if you get the right meds and a lower-stress job. I don’t know much about the American system except what I’ve read on this group, so I have to leave it to the others to give you practical advice. Is there any chance that you could find a really low-stress job that would still bring in enough money for your needs – factory work or something like that? I’m wishing you some good fortune and hoping that your situation improves. Sue (in NZ).
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*cringes* What is it with our American Health System? It seriously frightens me sometimes… It seems like you are going through a horrible time…good luck with your visits with the County Hospital. It doesn’t sound like you’re bipolar, like Sue said…but it sounds like you are going through a hard time. Keep us posted on your journey and best of luck. *hugs*
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Dear asdm, I am a new poster here. I need your direction.
Heather, what an ordeal you’ve been going through. It surly does sound like bpd, but only a doc can really say. I would see about going on disability, & that’s what I’d request at my next appt with a county health care doc. Might want to contact the social security dept to apply – I think there’s a long waiting period. I also believe you need to be on two different kinds of meds instead of just one. Both a mood stabilizer & an anti-psychotic med. I feel for ya kiddo, & I hope you get some relief soon. Hang in there. You do sound like a true fighter. You’ve been through an awful lot. Zero1
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Heather: I am sorry you have been having such a difficult time of it. I wish there were some magic wand I could give you to make it all "better" but I fear that isn’t the case. I would see what you can do about getting some assistance with regard to your Mother. I know in the USA that you can get free help if you are a primary care giver to a parent. I know this from experience. I cared for my mother in law and was able to have some respite care so that I could make it to my appointments as well as just get out. I would also suggest you find out about SS Disability while you are searching for answers. I do know this takes time but there may be other supports able to help in the interim…church organizations and even the United way, check your local chapter, the have emergency funds and resources. This is a site that deals with people who have a mental illness and work issues. You may also want to contact he Office of Vocational Rehab. They do wonders with ppl with mental illness and work….even help to find a job that is sympathetic to your needs and illness. If you would like to talk more feel free to email me. Wish I could be of more help. Try to stay focused in the moment and let the next one take care of itself. Hang in there and keep searching till you find the answers….You are worth whatever it takes! When it is dark enough you can see the stars, Saya
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Dear asdm, I am a new poster here. I need your direction. I don’t have anywhere else to turn. I’m female, in my middle thirties, and I know something is wrong with me, but I’m not sure what. Not knowing (or not having any clear hunches) makes it that much more difficult to get a diagnosis or treatment. I realize I’ll only have a few minutes to present my case to whatever doctor I wind up seeing, and because last Tuesday I walked off (yet another) job (I was tearful and agitated much of the time — and it showed), I have no income nor insurance: I will have to go to my County Hospital (for the "medical undesirables," as our local paper put it some time ago), and it seems to me, having been there before when uninsured, the doctors there are suspicious, guarded, and weary. They aren’t wild about enigmatic cases; don’t seem to want to do a lot (or any) investigative tests. The last time I went through this was in March. I believed might have PMDD. I saw an OBGYN (nice guy, but in a terrible hurry). He put me on Serafem. I told him then and there that I couldn’t handle SSRIs (been there, done that, ten years ago) but he wrote the script anyway, said — try again. I lasted about four days on Serafem. Not a wink of sleep the whole time, and every symptom I have was exaggerated. I thought I might lose my mind. Less than a week later I was seen by a nurse practitioner. I explained my reaction to Serafem. She put me on Welbutrin (said, "this will have a calming affect.") A week of Welbutrin and I was truly a basket case. I went again to the County hospital; they suggested I try something else (forget the name). I filled the script but, in terror for my sanity, I never did try it. I don’t know how these doctors expect you to work whilst you’re trying out various psychotropic drugs that may leave you non-functional. I walked away from my last county hospital experience with a firm resolve to eat better, exercise more, start a regimen of St. John’s Wort everyday, three times a day, stay away from alliopaths and just pull myself up by my own pigtails. It hasn’t worked. In March I interviewed for and got a decent job. This one might have worked out (long commute but less stress). In late May, however, the company filed for bankruptcy. I had to scramble for other work, and I took the first thing offered me: transcription. From late May until just this last Tuesday, I have spent every weekday, up to 13 hours a day, in a small, windowless, fluorescent-lit room typing my brains out, trying to meet deadlines under tremendous pressure. I broke under that pressure on Tuesday. I walked out. I have heard hence that a number of people in the office had thought all along that I was a bit of a nut. I’d been caught crying a couple of times in my office, or locked in a bathroom stall. Shortly before I walked out, my boss remarked that I seemed to bring a lot of "drama" to the job. The fact was, I was going through the tortures of hell the whole time I was there (but I did my job, and I did it well). I tried (with much anxiety) to cover up my misery, to appear "normal." I thought I was hiding the fact that I was going slowly insane in that little windowless room pretty darn well. I felt a constant anxiety not to show how horrible I was feeling. As many of you likely know very well, most people do not understand "feeling horrible" — feeling out of control emotionally — *unless* there is some obvious external reason for it. Hyper-vigilant efforts to hide my upset emotions of course made me even more stressed out and tearful — and it turned out to be all for naught: my managers had perceived me as being "off" in some way all along (and they were right — I’m off, I’m way, way, off). My symptoms indicate either serious PMS or manic depression mimicking PMS. In either event, my system rejects SSRIs. There are other (countless other) drugs I might try, but I have to go back to work. But again, how can I work while taking psych drugs which may leave me looped — good for nothing? One cannot hide trembling hands, chattering teeth, clenched jaws, inattentiveness due to lack of sleep, and copious tears bordering on hysteria. One can’t tell an employer, "Listen, I have some kind of mental problem and I’m trying out a lot of different psychiatric drugs that may do strange things to my brain chemistry, resulting in strange behavior and poor performance. In addition, I might be absent a little or a lot, depending on the drug’s affect on me. I’m sure you will understand." Uh huh. Sure. I look back on my life and I realize that something has been wrong with me since childhood. In grade school I was diagnosed (by a school psychologist) with "social phobia." I had panic attacks all though elementary school, coming to a head in intermediate school when I became so afraid of everything and everyone, I refused to go to school at all. The school shrink told my mom to "drag me to school kicking and screaming, vomiting and gaging … whatever it takes." They would handle it from there. I became truant. I got on the school administration’s bad side. No one tried to help me or ask me what might be the problem (although I doubt I would have been able to articulate it, if they had). I was labeled "trouble," and more often than not I was on detention, isolated from my classmates, or even put on extended periods of suspension (which was often a relief, but my grades suffered for it). I was lectured at and yelled at and accused of taking street drugs (I’ve never touched an illicit drug in my life). In high school the problems escalated. Truancy got me bounced out of regular high school (I wasn’t really "truant" in the fun, let’s-drive-to-the-beach-and-party sense; I wasn’t even off campus: I was hiding, in the girls’ lavatory, perched on the toilet seat so no one looking for me would spy my dangling feet). I landed in a "continuation" high school, where they send the real "druggies" and troublemakers. There were no regularly scheduled classes — just a lot of kids sitting in a "quad" smoking cigarettes (and other things) listening to heavy metal music on their boom boxes — planning the next "party." I was an outcast among outcasts. There was a small library, and in a year and a half I had read every book in its holdings. At seventeen I took the GED (a high school proficiency examination), passed it and left for junior college. I loved my classes, but the constant tearfulness & social phobia (and the ever-present anxiety to cover it up) caused me to "withdraw" from nearly every course (and I was never able to "get it together" enough to repeat them; hence, no degree). My GPA averaged a D minus, and eventually the college deans asked me to leave. I went to work for a large bookstore chain. I worked for this bookstore in various capacities until 1999. Of course I garnered a reputation for being something less than a loyal, team player — I was absent a lot due to wildly shifting mood swings (which I attributed to PMS). A few of my managers tried to give me a chance; show some sign of belief in me — and eventually I rose to the rank of department supervisor. But I always ended up disappointing and alienating these managers — I could never measure up to (or maintain for any length of time) their expectations of me, and they inevitably took my failure as a willful, "screw you" attitude, never seeing that I was doing the very best I could — nearly killing myself trying. I began to dread going to work. I’d become stigmatized. A lot of my friends stopped talking to me, or held me at arm’s length. On the face of it I was a pleasant, intelligent, well-spoken young woman. But scratch the surface and, in the belief of many of the managers, you’ll find a flake and a fall-apart — a hypochondriac/chronic absentee who *consistently* lets everybody down. I was a lemon; a "bad" employee. As it was with my school experience, I was earnest and eager to please — but I had a file on me as thick as a phonebook, choc-a-bloc with negative reports. My beloved department (fiction and literature), which I tended with care and a great deal of pride (when I was able — and often, even when I was not) — was taken away from me. I was demoted to bookseller (cashier).
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Dear asdm, I am a new poster here. I need your direction. I don
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