Pills for What Ills

So, I had an appointment with my assigned psych nurse this past Monday in which we discussed how neither of my insurances would cover a new med that she wanted to put me on. I’ve tried ALL kinds of anti-depressants all in the SSRI category. Many were simply ineffective. Some were just terrible for me to take period, ( lamictal, prozac, wellbutrin of any milligram ) those are a sample of a few.

I even took this genesight test that tests your DNA to determine what psych medicines would work better with your chemistry. Before I entered the nurse’s office, I already had mentally prepared myself for what I intended to say. I told her I had no faith in any anti-depressant and that I refused to think my salvation or “cure” could be found in pill form.

Her reaction was that I was resigning to my illnesses and how they affect my daily life. I’m very realistic and pragmatic. I took her comment offensively because, as far as I view my illnesses, I didn’t chose to acquire them at any point in my life. She ultimately advised me to get exercise and make sure that I was getting a sufficient amount of vitamin D.

The same nurse that told me prior to this appointment that I should really start taking a multi-vitamin as my folic acid levels were low and my medicines metabolize better when I’m not mineral deficient. I’ve only been on the same meds for almost 8 years and I’m just now receiving this advice?! WTF???

I’ve also been told by previous therapists that, “you need to be your own advocate.” I agree to that sentiment. However, sometimes, just making it to a doctor’s appointment, etc. is a feat in itself. I then thought, would you really fucking give your own damn self this advice?! I suffer from major depression as well as other mental illnesses. I’ve been disabled since 2012 and I would like to ask them how is it when someone is sick, to advocate for their selves when they’re already doing the best they can???

I want to know the answer to this question. I can’t tell you how many therapist sessions I’ve spent in the restroom (partially) due to my stomach issues that are related to my mental problems and negatively affect every aspect of my life as well. When I had private insurance, the level of “care” wasn’t better. I had a psychiatrist. I hated him. I wanted to stab him until I exhausted myself with a dull letter opener. He focused a lot on my past and asked a lot of questions and took a long time to speak. I believe he did it to waste time. As he certainly did not have any great contributions to offer in regards to my “therapy.”

So, sometimes private doctors suck worse than the places that are state and federally funded. I’m 38 and I’ve been seeing social workers, psychologists, psychiatrists, and others in the mental health field since I was seven years old, off and on. At some point, you begin to question the validity of the mental health field as a whole. Honestly, I owe my stability to two drugs, Lithium and Depakote. I have to use Valium to help with my anxiety. I used to be on more, but had adverse side effects.

I have a sharp insight into what’s wrong. I approx. said this to my present therapist, “Imagine how frustrating it is to have endured the suffering and strife you were dealt throughout your life to only have to relive all of those memories because you cannot forget. You are haunted by your past every waking day.” I’ve told my prior therapists the same thing before. Do you dare think I want to hold onto those memories for the pain they serve to remind me of? The same memories that rob me of my present life because of the hell my past was.

No one really has anything profound to say. Yes. It would be patronizing on anyone’s part to say something they think may make me feel better. I know they’re smarter than that. If I were in their shoes, I guess if hadn’t experienced my own history, than I wouldn’t know what to say either. I’ve had ECT referred before. I may do it. I’ve found the depths of depravity that I’ve reached are as deep as I’m willing to sink.

What would it feel like to swim? Is it even a possibility?



Stains and collections of mistakes.
The blood we shed
so much easier
than what is carried.

Men folk don’t know
the strength required to
be a woman.

Blood washes more easy
from their hands.
Just like it’s easier
for them to walk away
from a life they helped
to make.

You go put a baby
inside her belly
with all your ideas
of what a man should
be for it to grow into the
person you wished
you could’ve been.

**This poem is going to be published in a chapbook and is owned by the writer, Vita.**