I had a couple of really bad weeks where I was having small panic attacks for no apparent reason. I would be fine, and the wind would change direction, or a noisy car would drive down the street, or one of the cats would knock something over and I would be reduced to crying, gasping, despair.
So I upped my Prozac. I still have almost a full bottle of 20mg because I got bumped up to 40 pretty quick, and the original 20mg had already been refilled. So I've kept them as backup because I knew it would get to this point eventually. Prozac isn't my first antidepressant. I've "outgrown" two others and couldn't tolerate a third. I didn't expect to get here in less than two years, though.
I'm also on Wellbutrin. The two, combined with my own self-medication with cannabis, was good until it wasn't. Fortunately, the bump up to 60mg of the proz seems to be kicking in. It's only Wednesday, but so far this week I haven't wanted to lie on the floor and scream into space.
It makes me wonder/worry about what's next. I'll eventually hit the max dose of Prozac, and then they'll try me on something else and it will work, or it won't, and then the cycle will repeat until I die. Probably by my own hand.
The psychiatrist I saw prescribed me non-stimulant ADHD meds to see if they help. At least she was supposed to. It's been a month, and I have gotten nothing. I'm still flailing helplessly. I cannot work, I cannot read, I cannot watch tv, I cannot pursue any hobbies. I don't want to eat, either. Which is a problem because I'm also diabetic. Two weeks of my glucose sensor going off constantly because I can't eat or can't eat enough to keep my blood sugar up. Also, because I usually end up eating crackers or a slice of bread, I spike and crash a lot.
I do wonder what my life could have been like if ADHD were better understood in the 70s and 80s. I wish I still had my hyperfocus phases. I wish the depression and anxiety hadn't gotten worse and made it impossible and exhausting to mask. Cloudcuckoolander Lemmie wasn't cute when I was in my 20s. In my 50s, it's just creepy.
Do I talk to my GP about this? Do I ask about something bigger? Ketamine? Mushrooms? ECT? TMS? Or do I stay on the merry-go-round until I fall off?
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