DORKYMISSSTL,
Yes, it is different for everyone.
When I couldn't stand it anymore, I sought help with a licensed psychologist, but that just taught me how to lie to her - things didn't get better at all.
My DW was very worried about me and had a feeling I was thinking about suicide. In my next to pivotal visit, she (my psychologist doc) suggested that I bring my wife to the next meeting so she could give some pointers on how to recognize when I was having a more than difficult day and what my wife could do to help.
I'm also diabetic, so I MUST always have my Insulin. It just so happens that a massive overdose of Insulin has been a tool for suicide. The day my wife took off work to go see my psychologist, I had plans to go back home, then end my life while my wife was at work.
I know that isn't rational, but at the time I physically and psychically hurt so bad I couldn't stand it. I Couldn't think rationally.
After about 10 minutes of blah, blah, blah, my psychologist came straight out, told me of my wifes concerns and asked me if I was planning to suicide. The question blew me away. I couldn't answer and I felt like I had an out of body experience, looking at everyone in the room from high in the northeast corner.
When I felt re-attached to my body, I simply said, "Yes". That got me a Stat admission to our local Cuckoo Clock Resort and Spa Therapy center.
The psychiatrist team immediately started me on Prozac and doubled the dose the next day and on the third day put me on the max dosage - didn't work. Three different, increasingly powerful drugs were tried with zero results. I started spontaneously bursting into tears, going to my room and pulling the sheet and blanket over my head.
They then started me on the then most powerful anti-depressant in their arsenal. It was supposed to start at 37.5 mg and not be raised for at least a week. Two days later they doubled the dosage, two days after that they jumped to the then recognized maximum of 350 mg of Effexor, daily. The second day at that dosage, the spontaneous crying quit. I was back to a little better than when I came in, but not enough to please me or the doctors.
They started combining different psych meds to see if I would improve. The first one they tried caused me to have seizures after the second day. I was taken by ambulance to the regular hospital where they treated me for seizure disorder. The neurologist was very thorough and dc'd the second psych drug and added Lamotrigine to the Effexor. When I had gone 48 hours with no additional seizures, I was released from the hospital and returned to the psych hospital.
Lamotrigine has a synergistic affect when combined with Effexor, and my psychiatrist doubled the dose the neurologist had prescribed to 200 mg. This mellowed me out some more as far as the depression went, but I started having panic attacks, so they added Clonazepam 1.0 me twice daily or as needed. During the entire time I was at the "Resort" I woke up multiple times in the night, so my doctors added 300-400 mg of Trazodone, nightly.
All of this stopped my descent into Hell. My terrifying dreams of going deep under the earth stopped at the edge of the magma, past the safety chains. I was looking at the magma when I slowly, slowly started backing away.
The speed at which I improved was not enough for my doctors, so they tried adding a different drug to my "cocktail". Two days later I was again struck with seizures and went back to the physical hospital. At that time, my Neurologist actually became angry. She said my psychiatrist should have known better because the new drug was in the same "class" of antidepressant as the first one that had caused me to go into the hospital. I'm guessing she called my assigned psychiatrist, because after I returned to the Resort (never could find the Spa), he sort of apologized.At that time the team decided that slow improvement was better than no improvement at all and I started group therapy.
This all happened over a ten week period, which seemed like forever to me. I was finally released and went home. Going back home actually caused a setback for a couple of weeks, but I finally felt like I wanted to get out in my backyard and at least mow the lawn. Ten feet outside the back door Agoraphobia froze me. Then I couldn't get back inside the house fast enough. I retreated to my bedroom, closed the shades and door, got in bed and covered my head. My wife came home from work at her regular time, saw I was out of it and called my psychiatrist. He asked if I had taken any Clonazepam. No, I had been so terrified I couldn't think of something smart, so I took an additional dose and within an hour or so was able to come out of my room and back into the light.
On my next visit, my psychiatrist said to start by standing by the back door two or three times daily until I felt comfortable, then start opening the door 2-3 times a day for as long as I was comfortable.
OK, I'll cancel the "rest of the story", that's TMI.
Bottom line is that some psych drugs work almost immediately for some people, but not for others. Some psych drugs don't work at all. Some people need a cocktail of drugs for improvement.
I can say that after 10 years, going from severe to chronic depression, I have been able to cut down on all my meds and have felt normal for a few days. The first day I felt "normal" it was such a high compared to the depression, I called my psychiatrist, worried that I was developing *lost the word* (the up and down mood cycling mental disorder). After talking with her, the dx was, I was feeling normal. After more that 10 years, I'd forgotten what normal felt like.
It doesn't "sound" like you are in as much trouble as I was, so I expect your psychiatrist will find a drug and dosage that is right for you.
IF you were prescribed this by a family doctor and you don't see improvement, definately go see a mental health specialist. Sometimes, even often, Family Doctors are not quite the experts in all things medical that they think they are.
Agape,
Bob
PS: I know you don't know me from Adam Off, but I have been here with this team the longest of any current member and I'm asking you to consider doing me a favor. Please consider changing your name to something positive, or at least neutral. Being called a dork by almost anyone else is considered to be a negative comment about them. Please don't think of yourself that way. To my way of thinking, and I'm definitely old fashioned, "Eccentric: is OK, so is "Walking to the drum of a different beater [that's me]", but being called a dork is belittling. Maybe I am too sensitive because I was referred to as "the dork in the corner" for too many of my socially molding years.
Edited by: POPEYETHETURTLE at: 12/16/2014 (15:31)
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