Tag Archives: Psychiatrist

Increase in My Antidepressant Dose: Is It Working?

Tomorrow, I will see my psychiatrist for a medication review. Last month, the dose of my citalopram, an SSRI antidepressant, was increased. Do I truly feel it helps?

When I started on the higher dose of citalopram, I had no idea what to expect. I’d originally been prescribed this medication in September of 2010 and had never had its effecacy evaluated. I seem to remember I was put on citalopram after the dose of my Abilify had been increased twice in a few months’ time and I was still very irritable. Abilify is an atypical antipsychotic commonly used for irritability and emotional dysregulation of all kinds. Citalopram is primarily used for depression and anxiety, but it can also help with emotional dysregulation, or so I seem to remember my psychiatrist having said.

Even before I started on my higher dose of citalopram, my mood started to lift a little, possibly because of anticipation. Once I started on the higher dose, my mood remained relatively good for a short time. Things were looking up in the day activities department, so that also helped.

One thing I have clearly been noticing, is that I’m more active. I have less need for sleep during the day. I am also a little more motivated and inspired to get things done. Though I obviously did’t complete the #AtoZChallenge, I did write far more regularly on this blog last month than i’d done in almost two years before.

Another positive that I’ve noticed is that I am more able to keep myself from engaging in self-destructive behavior. I do still have urges, but I’m more able to reach out for help first.

Though these are all very positive changes, I must say that if I’m truly honest, my depressed mood is still the same if not worse. Same for my irritability. I still experience this feeling as though a heavy weight is on my shoulders. I still get agitated very easily. I still experience suicidal thoughts.

Then again, these are most likely more symptoms of emotional regulation issues rather than major depression. Unfortunately, there’s no medication that targets these specifically. I won’t have my first appointment with my new treatment coordinator till the 17th, and I assume we won’t be diving back into dialetical behavior therapy right then. I try to use the skills I’m learning through self-help groups and apps, but it’s all rather hard.

Changes

This week has been rather eventful and yet, nothing really did happen. A lot of changes are on the horizon for me, yet nothing has really changed yet.

First, I found out a few weeks ago that next week, my primary day activities staff will be leaving the day center. It is great for her, as she’ll embark on a new and challenging path in her career. For me though, it’s quite hard. Some of my other staff and family have been askign whether I mind at all, since I’ve been struggling at day activities and she was the one who filed the incident report that led to my day activities hours being cut. Yes, I do mind, since despite this, I like this staff a lot.

Then on Thursday, I found out that my CPN is leaving too. It’s also to embark on a new and challenging path in her career, but it’s sad nonetheless. My CPN and I have had quite a few misunderstandings over the ten months so far that we’ve worked together. However, I’ve noticed that I did make progress. It seems odd, since both my husband and my psychiatrist have been commenting on how I didn’t get far on the DBT course yet and it’s apparently my CPN’s fautl. Apparently, she should be limiting my bringing up only indirectly related topics.

I know the nurse practitioner who will be replacing her already from my intake interview last year. It is a slight disadvantage that he’s male, but other than that, I think I could get along with him just fine. However, it’s still a bit stressful that so many people are leaving at the same time. After all, my nurse will also be taken off my case. We’re not yet 100% sure who will be replacing her.

On Friday, I had a meeting with my psychiatrist. We discussed my progress on the DBT course, my medication and I mentioned I’ve been rather depressed lately. I did say it’s been going on for half a year already, so if I can hold it together for that long, it must not be that bad. She ignored this comment and proposed to increase the dose of my citalopram from 20 to 30mg. It’s a bit scary, since I’ve been on 20mg ever since 2010 with no med review whatsoever and I didn’t even know why I’d been prescribed it. IN this sense, I like it that my psychiatrist did ask to see me in a month’s time for an evaluation. I really do hope the med increase will help with mood improvement.

Considering Getting a Psychiatrist’s Appointment on My Depressed Mood

Tomorrow, I have an appointment with my community psychiatric nurse (CPN). Part of our appointment will likely be about where to go from here regarding day activities. My CPN already E-mailed me that she’d contacted the Center for Consultation and Expertise. They will hopefully take on my case and help me and my staff assess my needs. That will hopefully help us find a new place or get me the right support at my current place.

I also intend to ask her to get me an appointment with my psychiatrist. I feel too embarrassed to schedule one through the secretary. It’s been 3 1/2 months since my last appointment, so in that sense I could request one just for a catch-up. However, I want to discuss something specific with the psychiatrist and I feel incredibly ashamed of it. I’m finally coming to the conclusion that my depression symptoms are getting worse and to a point where I don’t know how to handle them anymore.

I was more or less by chance diagnosed with major depression last year. This came to light when I had my autism-related independent assessment. I had to fill out a screening tool for depression as part of the intake procedure. I scored as severe on that one. I was then evaluated further and was diagnosed with recurrent moderate depression. Because this was an independent assessment, my psychiatrist isn’t affiliated with this hospital and doesn’t need to take over the diagnosis. I don’t know whether she has.

I do take an antidepressant and have since 2010. Same medication, same dose all these years with no med review whatsoever. I don’t even know for sure why I was put on this medication, except that my Abilify (an antipsychotic) had been increased twice in a few months and I was still irritable.

This is the main reason I feel embarrassed about asking my psychiatrist to evaluate my mood. I mean, irritability bothers other people and ttat’s always been the main reason I was in care. Like, in 2007, when I was admitted to the mental hospital, it was really because of suicidal ideation but my staff always said it was because I’d been having public meltdowns.

I don’t know whether I truly believe that psychiatry’s job is to keep people, or me specifically, from being a pain in other people’s asses. I don’t think it should be. However, I’m rather afraid that my psychiatrist thinks so at least in my case. I’m not exactly sure why, as so far she’s been pretty understanding. I guess they may be left over feelings from all these years being treated like a cumbersome waste of resources.

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

Self-Destructive

So #Write31Days didn’t work out, but not because I couldn’t be motivated to write. The reason was that, on Wednesday, I landed in crisis, took an overdose of medication and had to be taken to the hospital. I spent the night on the internal medicine ward and was medically cleared the following day. However, it took till around 5PM before I could see the consulting psychiatrist. She was a nice woman. I knew her nurse from the other time I’d taken an overdose last July. Nothing much has yet been decided, as the psychiatrist will speak to my CPN on Monday, but I was cleared to go home.

Today, I want to talk about harmful and self-destructive behavior as it happens in various mental disorders. Particularly, I want to relate it to what I assume are my current diagnoses: autism spectrum disorder and borderline personality disorder. Unlike what many people believe, the reasons for harmful behaviors are not either fully due to autism or fully due to BPD.

In autism, self-injury and aggression are common, but are seen as steretypical behaviors. For example, some autistics hit themselves as a form of self-stimulation. However, there is a common behaviorist phrase that says all behavior is communication. As such, autistics often also engage in self-injurious behavior to communicate pain, overload or frustration.

Here is where the lines between autism and BPD become blurry. After all, unlike what is commonly believed, borderlines don’t self-destruct “for attention” or “to manipulate”. Most self-harm to deal with strong emotions that they perceive as overwhelming. Whether these emotions come from within the person themself (as is often the case in BPD) or from external sources of frustration, may seem to be important, but it isn’t. A situation doesn’t make you self-destruct, after all. It’s each person’s choice, within the limits of their mind’s capacity at that particular point.

The reason I took an overdose on Wednesday, isn’t fully clear to me either. I do remember feeling sensorially overloaded with cold. I tried to warm up by going on the elliptical trainer. After all, I needed my exercise too, as I hadn’t worked out all week. I couldn’t find my sneakers or my sports clothes, so I tried for a bit to work out in my regular clohes, except for my vest. I was shivering though and this overloaded me even more. From that point, I don’t rmemeber much. I was feeling rather unreal, though I must’ve had some awareness of what I was doing, as I retrieved medications from various sources. Once the first pill bottle, which was the easiest to find, was down, I didn’t feel there was a way back.

So is this typical borderline behavior? Yes, in that it’s not stereotyped and was rather purposeful. It certainly wasn’t the stereotypical “cry for help” type of BPD behavior though. I didn’t want to call the out-of-hours GP and I had zero interest in being admitted to a mental hospital. I do think I need some more guidance, but not in the sense of somemone providing me emotional nurture.

In the sense of what caused it, it’s more autistic sensory overload and difficulty handling unexpected situations and frustrations. The help I requested when talking to the consulting psychiatrist was of such nature: I need some practical guidance on getting more structure in my day and dealing with unexpected situations. It may be my home support worker could provide this, or I may need my nurse from the assertive community treatment team for this. I also remember just now having discussed with my nurse a prescription phone call. This means that you can call (usually I think a max number of times a week or month) to a psych unit for support if you’re about to go into crisis. I will ask my CPN about this.

I’m Officially Home!: The Road to My Discharge from the Mental Institution

It’s official: I am home. Yesterday was my formal discharge date from the institution. It would’ve been May 1, but got delayed one week because I needed more time to make arrangements for my after care. Today, I’ll share my journey to getting the care I need and living in the house I want to live in with the man I want to live with.

Like I said, my original discharge date was May 1. However, a week before that, nothing had been arranged in the way of after care yet. I’d have my first appointment with a psychiatrist from the community treatment team that Friday, April 28. That was all my psychologist said she was required to do in terms of making sure I am in care once discharged. Apparently, she and the social worker had deliberately handed me the responsibility of making sure I’d have day activities and home support, only without telling me I had been handed that responsibility. I didn’t find out about this till April 26, when I had my “exit meeting”, as my psychologist called it. Call me a cynic, but I immediately thought of the Swiss end-of-life clinic by the name of Exit.

After my “exit meeting”, I was very much in distress. I called the patient advocacy person, but she couldn’t do anything for me, as I’d be in the community team’s hands. I called my husband, who was on the road. Desperate, I called my mother-in-law. She asked for my psychologist’s number and somehow convinced her to give me that extra week. It was suggested to me that all it’d take to make sure I’d have day activities was a phone call to the day activity place manager, who was on vacation during the last week of April and would be back May 2. It wasn’t exactly that simple, but in the end it was close to that simple indeed.

On April 28, I had my intake interview with the community treatment team psychiatrist and nurse practitioner. They were much more supportive than anyone in the institution had ever appeared to be upon first meeting them. I suspect this psychiatrist has never worked for a long-term care unit, as she was surprised I didn’t get any therapy there other than day activities. “But it’s a psychiatric hospital,” she said. There she nailed the reason I’ve called it an institution for years: there is very little in the way of actual psychiatric treatment. In fact, a student nurse at one point referred to clozapine, the last-resort antipsychotic the majority of the patients on my unit take, as palliative care. I know for some people it’s a miracle drug, but for many on my unit, all it did was keep them just about stable enough that they could handle an unlocked door.

Like I said, my meeting with the community psychiatrist and nurse practitioner went well. We discussed my symptoms and needs. They would be contacting the home support team, which is with the mental health agency, on my behalf. If no day activities had been arranged by May 12, when I’d have my next appointment, they would also work their arses off to get me day activities.

Last Thursday, May 4, I had appointments at two day activity places. One is for traumatic or acquired brain injury survivors, while the other is for people with an intellectual disability. I had my doubts regarding the first one, which I’d visited in August of last year. This was only confirmed when I went back for an intake interview. It was all very formal. Though this could’ve been because I had already visited the place, it made me feel a little unwelcome. When I disclosed I was also going to look at the other place, the staff at the first place said this might be more suitable indeed. I’d still be welcome at the brain injury place. However, I felt there was too little I could do independently enough there.

I had a taxi drive me to the other day activity place. When I opened the door, some clients welcomed me. They found a staff member, who seated me in a spare room and poured me a cup of coffee while I was waiting for the head staffer to come see me. I talked to him and to one of the staff at the group I’d be placed in. The “orange group” is a group of relatively capable intellectually disabled people who do simple manual labor tasks like packaging, sorting etc. Fortunately, there is no pressure to be quick or do it perfectly. I was a little worried the tasks would be incredibly boring and too difficult at the same time, but I realized it’d either be this or no day activities. Besides, the staff and other clients were very enthusaistic and welcoming. It looked like I might actually have day activities right after my discharge.

Yesterday, however, I had a meeting with the social consultant in charge of my case. The day activity place had already made all arrangements so that I could start “working” there and in fact, yesterday morning I was awoken by the taxi driver ready to drive me there. I had clrearly told the day activity staff that I’d first meet with the social consultant and start “working” on Tuesday, not Monday. For a bit, as I met with the social consultant, it seemed as though it’d all been one big mistake and I wouldn’t be able to start day activities today. However, late in the evening, I received an E-mail from her saying she had pre-approved me for day activities and I could in fact start “working” today.

Diagnonsense, Oh Diagnonsense!

A few months ago, I wrote about my changing diagnosis. My autism diagnosis that’s been confirmed three times since 2007, was removed. That left me with just borderline personality disorder (BPD) as a diagnosis. If you thought I gracefully accepted this, you do not know me. I consulted with the patient liaison person at my institution, who recommended I seek a second opinion at another hospital. Now, three months on and we’re back at square one, and it’s not because an independent provider agreed with my psychologist.

On August 15, I talked to the patient liaison person, who on that same day E-mailed my psychologist asking her to make the necessary arrangements for me to get a second opinion. Instead, my psychologist told me she wanted to contact a psychiatrist at the brain injury unit first to inquire about the diagnosis of autism in people with brain injury. This doctor told her that indeed autism shouldn’t be diagnosed in people with brain injury, but the same is true of BPD. My psychologist would need to diagnose personality change due to a general medical conditon instead. I stupidly agreed with her changing my diagnosis herself rather than sending me to an independent psychiatrist or clinical psychologist.

My psychiatrist, who is the head clinician responsible for my care, however, disagreed with my psychologist’s diagnosis. My named nurse said they were throwing around all sorts of diagnoses at my treatment plan meeting last month. Eventually, my psychologist informed me they’d settled on dependent personality disorder, borderline personality disorder traits and a developmental disorder NOS. I hate the DPD label, but can see how I might have some of its features. I needed to see my treatment plan to see what they’d meant with developmental disorder NOS, which isn’t a diagnostic code in DSM-IV unless prefixed by “pervasive”. That would essentially mean autism. As it turned out, they hadn’t settled on this diagnosis, as the developmental disorder was gone.

Instead, I now have DPD, BPD traits and depressive disorder NOS. I asked my psychologist whether this was a coding typeo, but it wasn’t. Her explanation was that I may formally meet the criteria for this, but the main reason for the diagnosis is for insurance purposes. You see, I can’t be in the mental hospital without a diagnosis on axis I (anything that isn’t a personality disorder). A nurse even twisted my psychologist’s actions like she’d done me a favor.

Last week, when I found out my final diagnosis, I lost it pretty much and was considering checking myself out of the institution. My psychologist was called, because the nurses thought I said I was definitely leaving, which I can’t remember having said. My psychologist encouraged me to leave right then, which I refused. My husband instead came to pick me up thee nxt day for a night at home to have some distance.

Today, I spoke to the patient liaison person again. She was not happy at the fact that my psychologist had failed to cooperate with me in getting me a second opinion. This essentially means we’re back at where we started and I’m probably going to ask my psychologist to get me a second opinion again soon.

P – #AtoZChallenge on Mental Health

Welcome to day 16 in the #AtoZChallenge on mental health. Todays’letter is P. There ae many obvious mental health terms starting with P, but also some you may not know.

Privileges

Privileges are what freedom of independence and movement someone has while in the mental hospital. In Believarexic, the book by J.J. Johnson I read a few months ago, the main character rightfully says that what are called privileges in the mental hospital are basic rights in the real world. For example, every adut in the real world is allowed to shower independently, whereas some people in mental hospitals need to do such basic tasks under staff supervision.

Of course, restrictions to someone’s freedom even in the mental hospital need to be motivated. If a person isn’t a danger to themself or others, they should really be allowed to go wherever they want unless this is a hindrance to their treatment. What I mean by this is of course even a person with full privileges should show up for their treatment appointments. Usually, even people with full privileges need to ask for permission from their clinician to leave the hospital overnight.

Psychiatrist

A psychiatrist is a medical doctor specializing in mental illnesses. NOwadays, they’re commonly seen as human pill dispensers, because prescribing medication is their primary task. However, in the Netherlands every psychiatrist is also a qualified psychotherapist. A psychiatrist is usualy a person’s head clinician. Head clinicians are the only ones who can open diagnosis-treatment combinations in the Netherlands. Diagnosis-treatment combination is insurance lingo for the patient’s diagnosis and the treatment that is suited to that diagnosis according to protocols. As such, a head clinician is the only one who can change a patient’s formal diagnosis. By the way, clinical psychologists and psychotherapists can also be head clinicians.

Psychologist

Psychologists do most of the talk therapy part of mental health treatment. There are three levels of psychologists employed by mental health agencies in the Netherlands. Basic psychologists are fresh out of college with a Master’s degree in psychology. We have a basic psychologist employed at my unit but I’m clueless as to what his duties are. Anyone can call themself a psychologist. Then there is the health care psychologist, which is in fact a protected title. Only someone who has completed two years of additional trainign after college and is licensed can call themself a health care psychologist. This is the most common type of psychologists employed by mental health agencies. They can do basic psychotherapy but cannot be head clinicians. Last are cliniical psychologists, who’ve got two more years of specialized training and many also have a Ph.D. These people can be head clinicians and do more specialized psychotherapy too. Clinical psychologists are often assigned to the more complex cases. My unit currently does not employ a clinical psychologist.

Psychotherapy

There are many forms of psychotherapy, both individual and in a group. Psychotherapy usually employs talking to help the patient recover, though some psychotherapies are partly non-verbal too. In many countries, the term psychotherapist can be used by anyone who so desires. Not so in the Netheraldns: psychotherapists are psychologists who’ve had I believe it’s four years of training in psychotherapy techniques. They are bound by the same laws as doctors and health care and clinical psychologists. A psychiatrist is registered separately as a physician and as a psychotherapist. As such, they can lose one license but keep the other. I once read about a psychiatrist who mostly practised psychotherapy and due to abuse of power lost his license, but only his physician license at first.

Six Discoveries Made on a Psychiatric Unit

On The Mighty today, there’s an interesting article on little discoveries made at a psych ward. I seriously thought I had invented playing card games as a life saver, but apparently I haven’t. Having spent eight years on one psychiatric unit or another, I can add a few more discoveries to this list.

1. The smoking area is the coziest spot on the ward. I don’t sit in the smoking area nowadays anymore, because I don’t want to associate with my fellow patients that much. On the acute unit though, I spent hours in there as a non-smoker just because it was the best place to have good conversation with patients.

2. Not just picky eaters like me despise the food. We had relatively good food when I was first admitted in 2007, but as budget cuts took over, the quality of the food declined sharply. Now we’re lucky if we have noodles, because they are pretty much the only food that isn’t too bland to be real. If someone with a specil diet or who is a vegetarian is admitted to our unit in the middle of the week, too bad. Food is delivered in bulk quantities, so no-one gets to choose what they want to eat anymore. If you’re a vegetarian or have a special diet, you can only hope that the staff will remember to order your food specifically. By the way, the vegetarian food is the worst of all kinds.

3. “Therapy” means you’re stuck with an adult coloring book. “Work” means going to the industrial arts department. I still don’t understand how people can call day activities their “job”.

4. On most wards, you can’t access the kitchen cupboards with food in them or even get a drink outside of meal times. I am fortunate to always have spent time on wards where you could get food or drink freely, except for coffee, but an increasing number of units are locking patients out of the kitchen or its cupboards. The reason is patients often make a mess. I remember a long time ago this locking of kitchen cupboards being discussed at the intensive care acute unit (not a unit I ever resided at). One nurse rightfully said that the patients on this unit have hardly anything they can control, so why should the times they eat be controlled too? Unfortunately, he didn’t get his way and the cupboards were locked.

5. People manage to argue over the remote even though everyone has a TV in their room and there are three TVs in the day rooms. Seriously, a fund founded by one patient’s parents provides TVs for everyone in their rooms, and still oftentimes the same soap opera is on on each of the three shared TVs.

6. Every doctor has their favorite prescription medication. I am still surprised the psychiatrist at the resocialization unit didn’t prescribe Ritalin to me, because he prescribed it to practically everyone. Benzodiazepines, of course, ar handed out like candy, except to me, because I told the psychiatrist I have a family history of benzodiazepine addiction and personal experience of its withdrawal. I am 100% confident that most of the other patients on benzos are effectively addicted, but apparently they’re too unwell to ever get off their pills anyway. Did you know that “severe psychiatric illness which requires high doses of benzodiazepines” (ie. chemical restraint) is one of only a few grounds to get the drugs covered by insurance. The other three are epilepsy, anxiety disorders when a person has tried at least two antidepressants unsuccessfully, and last but not least, palliative sedation in end-of-life care.

Tips for Coping with Suicidal Thoughts

Screw you, #BEDN. I screwed up the day after I planned to continue writing everyday this month. Yesterday was a bit stressful. I baked an apple pie to remember the eighth anniversary of my psychiatric institutionalization, but I also felt overwhelemd with memories from the day of my crisis. In addition, yesterday was designed to be plan your epitaph day by the inventors of weird holidays. I only found out through this week’s #TuesdayTen. I was originally planning on writing a post on tips for coping with suicidal thoughts for #TuesdayTen, but the pressure of having to think up ten coping strategies and the doubts as to whether it’d fit in, made me skip the occasion. The idea stuck around though, so I’m going to write down some coping tips today.

The first important key is realizing when depression or despair sets in before you reach rock bottom. When you are acutely suicidal, most of the tips I’ll mention below will sound completely useless. However, if you’ve realized you are depressed or otherwise severely distressed, you may be able to enlist the help of others in staying safe. Here are some tips that can help you through some suicidal ideation. When you are actively planning suicide, these tips may no longer work and you’ll need to go to the emergency room or psychiatric crisis service.

1. Enlist the support of family or friends. Like I already said, supporters, such as family may be able to help you remember why you want to live. If not, they may be able to intervene to keep you safe whilst getting a mental health professional involved. When I was in my crisis in 2007, I had no support in the city I was in at the time. That is, I had my parents, but they weren’t particularly helpful (and I honestly can’t fully blame them) at the time.

2. If you don’t have family or friends to support you, there are support sites and telephone hotlines for people in crisis around the world. While again, if you are in acute danger, you need to go to the emergency department or psychiatric crisis service, when you are still able to talk it through, do so.

3. Think of what your goals are, what you want to get or avoid with suicide. Obviously, religious beliefs about an afterlife aside, you won’t gain anything from suicide. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t seem like it. Some people believe: “At least I’ll be able to rest then.” In this sense, what you want to avoid through suicide is important too. Discuss with your family or a mental health professional how you can reach this goal while remaining alive. For example, I knew as I was talking to the crisis service psychiatrist in 2007 that I didn’t really want to die – I mean, who wants to? -, but that I couldn’t cope with my life as it was anymore.

4. Think of the people you’ll leave behind. No, I don’t mean thinking of them having to make funeral arrangements and how selfish you are for leaving your family with the financial burden. That is not going to be helpful. Just for your information, as a family member, don’t ever burden a suicidal relative with this kind of crap, no matter how confident you are that they are “just doing it for attention”. However, if you do have people you still care about when you’re in despair, thinking about them can help lift your mood. Despair is an incredibly lonely feeling, but there are people who care about you.

5. Be careful about chanigng medications or other treatments for depression while you are actively suicidal. Though electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) is relatively safe for severely depressed people, antidepressants carry the risk of increasing suicidality. Always be sure to discuss suicidal ideation with your mental health professional and don’t change your medication regimen without close supervision, preferably from a psychiatrist.

Breakdown: My Crisis of 2007 #Write31Days

31 Days of Mental Health

Welcome to day 30 in the #Write31Days challenge on mental health. Today, I discussed the details of the mental crisis that I had in 2007 with a nurse. This helped me feel heard but it also was a bit unsettling. I vividly remember many of the details. I feel compelled to share my story here, but I don’t know how safe a public blog on the Internet is to do so. I shared the details in a post on my old blog (which can still be more easily found by googling my name than this blog) about a month after the crisis happened. I published the raw story back then, complete with every detail of where I was and what I did. I edited it more than a year later for fear it’d ruin my chances of ever having a normal life. If future employers (of which I think I’ll have none) ever read that I’m a nut case and spent eight years in a mental institution, they’ll reject me no matter how vividly I describe the crisis that led to said institutionalization. That being said, the original story was quite badly written. I don’t want to read even the edited version now. I’ll just share what I feel like sharing now.

I remember the crisis state started right after daylight saving time ended on October 28, 2007. Of course, I was spiraling down into crisis from the moment I started livign on my own in August and I had a minor crisis about once a week. The week of October 29, I started completley losing my mind. I wandered about in the dark each evening. The police took me to the police station a couple of times that week and called the crsis service, but they couldn’t do anything.

In the afternoon of October 31, I was called by the crisis service. I still remember the name of the crisis service nurse calling me and if I ever run into her again, which is unlikely, I’m not going to be pleased. She told me that I just had to find ways to distract myself and that a hospitalization would mean I needed to go back on medication. (I’d quit an antipsychotic three weeks prior. No-one later on drew the connection.) I didn’t care about going on medication one way or the other, but I couldn’t mutter a proper response.

On November 1, I took a trip to my parents’ city to collect a landline phone. I don’t have a clue why I had to sleep over there for a night just to collect a phone. On the way back to my city the next day, I had a huge meltdown. This wasn’t unusual for me when returning to my city from my parents’, but for the first time, the railroad service employee who was assisting me to get on the train back to my city, called the police. I hardly realized I was speaking to the police when they told me to leave the station. I wasn’t sure what to do at first, so wandered around. I remember somoene, no clue who, told me that if I could behave, I could come back to the station and get on the train to my city.

I decided to go to the training home which I’d been a client of before going into independent living. I was allowed in, but once the staff found out the police had been called on me, they asked me to leave. I can’t remeber what I did throughout the afternoon. I was supposed to have an early train, but didn’t end up in my ultimate crisis till 8:00 PM. I remember getting some French fries at a cafeteria near the training home and calling my independent livign support worker that I’d forgotten to pay my rent for November the day before.

A housemate from the training home offered me to stay with her for the night so that we could find a solution the next morning. The staff went into her apartment and told me to leave. They initially gave me some time, but I left instantly and had the hugest breakdown I’ve ever had. I was hardly aware of my surroundings as I told some people’s voicemails that I was going to commit suicide. I inferred the time from what the bus driver, on whose bus I’d embarked, told the police. It was the 8:01 PM bus around the eastern part of the city (in that city, buses go in circular routes or at least they did back then).

I was taken to the police station by the police again. This time I was in my parents’ city so the route to crisis services was even longer. The police had to call a community physician who was the most umempahtetic jerk of a doctor I’d met by that time. (I later was treated by an authoritarian psychiatric resident, but she never had to talk to me in the midst of a crisis.) The doc told me I was making people feel responsible. While I can see eight years on that he was right, I couldn’t grasp this back then. I don’t remember my response. The community physician called the crisis service. I have recurrent dreams about the psychiatrist, the only one whose name I remember. In my dreams, I run into her again as I get treated at the mental health agency near the tiny village I’m moving to.

I am a million times thankful that this psychiatrist didn’t stick the BPD diagnosis on me, even though in retrospect my crisis could be interpreted as a typical BPD thing. Instead, she talked to me – she showed much more empathy than the community physician and eventually labeled me with adjustment disorder, which basically means an extreme response to stress. She suggested I be admitted and right away clarified that a suitable living solution would need to be found for me while I was in the hospital. No-one could’ve known back then that it’d take eight years and I’d be going to live independently once again after that.

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