Tuesday, September 4, 2012

The Exotic Neurotic Hotel, Part 2

My 2nd full day on the G-Unit (aka General Adult Unit [GAU]) was when the fun with drugs began.  My Psychiatrist Dr. Du (love the name!) took one look at my medication list and was quite surprised.  He did a full analysis, questions and all.  It wasn't until I was discharged that I found out his full diagnosis: Panic Disorder with  and Bipolar Mixed Episodes.

And then the fun with meds came.  Here's what I was on when I was admitted:

  • Risperdal .5mg
  • Lamictal 100 mg
  • Zoloft 200 mg
  • Klonopin .5mg prn 2x/day
Bye-bye Risperdal and Lamictal.  Poof.  He wanted to do away with the Zoloft, but I told him it was also being used off-label to control my migraines, so he agreed to keep that one.  Klonopin same.

New meds:
  • Neurontin 100mg 2x/day
  • Seroquel 100mg at bedtime
It was a big change and it made me worse.  Which I basically expected but it was TERRIBLE.  Hubby came that night, and told me that my step-dad had made a comment that he didn't think I should be alone with P when I got out and that "someone" might call CPS because of what I did.  I had a complete meltdown.  Crying uncontrollably, curled up in a ball, gasping for air, nearly screaming.  The nurse gave me my happy drug, and I eventually calmed down, but I was so goddamn ANGRY.  

I don't think I can even explain the level of anger.  How DARE he?  Even now I am simply flabbergasted.  I can barely look at him. But visiting hours ended.  And that's where that group of wonderful people on the G-Unit come in.  I couldn't have made it through the night.  Every night we had Wrap Up where we tell them how we are doing in terms of self harm, suicidal thoughts, anxiety, homicidal thoughts...you get the idea.  My numbers were quite high, and I was crying.  My favorite tech, Herbie, told me I could bow out, but everyone on the ward had seen me lose it, so I spilled my guts.  I think that's when the corner turned for me.  When I decided I had to fight for me, for my family.  

I was still panicking at night according to new roomie, so we upped the meds again.  That night, Friday, is when I was able to see P for about 20 minutes.  What a godsend.  It was so hard to walk away from him when he reached for me when it was time for them to leave.  That's when I started calling and singing him lullabies at night before bed.  

I was fighting for us so hard.  But the meds weren't working.  Not yet.  And we were heading into the weekend with no regular doctor meetings...


  1. You know, it takes balls to come through this. I am so proud of you, you can't even begin to imagine. Love, Fran

  2. It always gets harder before it gets better. But sometimes we have to go through some pretty rocky stuff in order to heal and become a healthier version of ourselves. You're on the right track, hon. Sending love and hope your way!

  3. Honey, I don't have that chemical disorder and I would have been furious. {{{Hugs}}}


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