I don't have an issue with pharamcotherapy for the general population of mentally ill individuals. However, I have an upsetting relationship with the doctor who has been in charge of treating my "symptoms" to date. We clash and bump heads. We don't see eye to eye. I have not felt free to speak about my mental state in months. See, he had me hospitalized for psychosis this winter. I stabilized somewhat through short-stay. I had to come to terms with why I had let myself fall in love. I became acutely paranoid in January and February. My last paranoid phase was April-May 2010. He claims to be treating unipolar depression with escitalopram. He says social anxiety and ocd does not just get better. It needs over a year of treatment! Am I that lost and incapable of reasoning for myself that I would listen to this joker for another minute. I went psychotic for being at a loss for accepting rejection. It just did not click. I spent everything I had in the time I was falling for my unrequited love. My thoughts were racing with my love obsession, with my musings on how to make it all a reality. I stayed on the escitalopram and had a continuation of the racing thoughts except that now I could not break free from the absolute worst experiences of recent memory. Every action was an attempt to escape the prison of memory and feelings that overpowered my ability to enjoy the pleasure of my senses.
I feel so superficially assessed by this doctor. During my break from formal education I saw four other shrinks who I was not afraid of interacting with as equals. In short-stay I was diagnosed with bipolar. In the summer, I was told that I may have bipolar or cannabis-induced psychosis. I have been CLEAN since that time. I had endogenous mania in November, diagnosed by two shrinks, and still my shrink was too proud to back off the gay-ass OCD diagnosis. How is my need for symmetry??? wtf?!
What is it with this man and swallowing his pride to give me some mutual respect. By the way, he and I got off on a bad foot. I faked the symptoms of ADHD to get adderall. I pulled it off for three months before he stopped me. I think that is the best thing he did for me. Getting me to stop speed was where his doctor power did some good for me. The rest of it has been the same story.
I believe there is a way to stumble upon my future without planning it out, without stress, and without fear. Above all I have to stay free. I can't go to Grenada and let my lonesome Dad pay the system $300,000 for his son's happiness. I will find the kind of happiness I always wanted from an MD degree, but I will do it on my own and give my community, my city, something more highly specialized than anything that has come before. I hope to become a grad student in 2012 - studying cognition. I hope to make money enough to get by and to love life until I can't love no more.
Edit: I have also been thinking about who I am as a simple biological being. Who am I genetically? My Dad is estranged. His house, to me, looks haunted with the ghosts of his parents and childhood. He has had bibliomania for the last 2-3 years. His house is filled completely with antiques and books. He has always been allof, detached, absorbed in memory of his family rather than engaging them frequently. He had functional alcoholism as an attorney for a while. He takes alprenolol now and drinks once a week. My mom used to be a painter and accordion player until she went to med school. I am telling this because the whole genetics theory of mental illness has got me confused. When do you know that its time for your patient to have a new doctor?
