so, 6 weeks after my trip to the ER, i’ve crashed bad again. instead of just feeling life has no point, i’m back to wanting to solve that by killing myself/being killed/dying. i just haven’t figured out an acceptable means.
so i call my psych on friday and they get me in for an appointment. sounds like they are taking it pretty seriously, right? the doctor grills me about past drug use and i pass cuz i don’t abuse my current meds and i haven’t used speed in the past. so he tells me he wants to put me on adderall. he says that it will help the wellbutrin work faster and that it will get me out of depression quickly, which of course sounds like heaven to me. he also ups my wellbutrin, since i’ve been on the same dose for 6 weeks and i’m still on the verge of being a danger to myself.
so, i leave with my scrips and actually dared to hope a little. to hope that maybe this nightmare might not be permanent. maybe i will feel better. i go to straight to the pharmacy and wait 30 minutes of course, only to be then told by the pharmacist that the dr. didn’t write the DEA number on the adderall scrip and he can’t fill it. immediately i burst into tears and start stammering about how that was the only reason i was there. the pharmacist says i could call the doc’s emergency line; he’s been harassed for doing so before but i could try.
so, i call and get the answering service. i tell them i have an emergency and need to speak to the dr. the rudest guy ever asks what the emergency is. i explain that i’m suicidal and the dr prescribed medication for me that i can’t get because he didn’t write the DEA number on the scrip. he tells me in the rudest way possible that the dr won’t deal with meds on the weekend (it’s 5:40 and i was just at the office at 4:30), period. he said i should go to the hospital if i needed meds that badly.
of course, that sends me into utter despair. i mean, i had dared to hope and now it’s totally ripped out from under me. i started spiraling down so fast. it might seem silly but it devastated me.
on the drive home, i decide to try and call again; maybe i’ll get someone more sympathetic on the answering service. amazingly, i do! and he takes my info and the number for the pharmacy and says he’ll pass the message on to the dr. again, i dare to hope a bit. it was 6:02 when i hung up with the service.
30 minutes goes by, no call to me and no call to the pharmacy. an hour, same. my mom calls the answering service at this point because i’m crying uncontrollably and they say they’ll call the dr. again. suffice it to say it’s now over 27 hours after i called and neither myself nor the pharmacy has received a call from the dr.
i’m utterly despondent. i mean, i don’t even deserve the courtesy of a call to tell me you won’t help me? you know i’m suicidal and you just abandon me to wait 3 days before i can get this med that you promised would help me quickly? (it’s three days because i obviously have to take it in the morning since it’s a stimulant and the pharmacy opens after i’m at work already, so even when i call on monday, i won’t get to take the med until tuesday).
i feel so completely discarded and disrespected. how am i supposed to believe that he gives a crap about me after this? how am i supposed to trust him? i actually dared to believe that this guy might be able to help me despite my firm belief that no one can help me, and now i feel violated and foolish. but the thought of finding another dr makes my stomach churn. what’s the point?
i’m so tired of everything being so hard. i’m tired of everything falling apart, of everything being one horrendous disappointment after another.