Tags: medical stuff

*headdesk*

Med-Go-Round?

It's been a while, and it's been rough. I noticed a few months ago (not long after my surgery) that while my anxiety was close to under control, my depression was getting worse. It took a while to convince myself that I actually needed help, but I finally got a referral to a psychologist.

While the new doctor is lovely, I think we need some different kind of treatment. She took me off Citalapram (which was my anti-anxiety med) completely, and increased my dosage of Wellbutrin (my anti-depressant) from 100mg to 300mg, then to 450mg. Things started getting rough after that, because the anxiety came back full-force. I've become prone to breaking out in stress hives when an anxiety attack is imminent, and right now, my arms look like I've been attacked by mosquitoes. When I mentioned this, the doctor recommended I take Benadryl when I start feeling the hives.

Right now, I've gone back down to 300mg, and I'm already feeling the depression trying to take a foothold. At this point, I'm just sick of it all. I'm not even sure what's me anymore, and what's the medication. Part of me wants to stop taking everything and try to figure out where I am again, and part of me is terrified of doing just that.
XBox Me

Updates on the home front

Wow, but it's been a long time. I have no idea if anyone's still reading this, but I feel more comfortable spilling my guts here than in the various social media outlets I use for the day to day mundanity. At any rate, things are getting...to me, at least, they're getting scary.

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I'm absolutely terrified. I've never had any kind of surgery before, and the idea of being knocked unconscious and cut into is pretty much my worst nightmare (second worst, actually - being awake while they do it is the worst nightmare). And even though I've resigned myself to not being a mother, I'm still not a huge fan of the idea of getting...whatever the female version of "emasculated" is. I don't particularly want to go into menopause at 33.

My doctor is fantastic, and is well aware of my concerns. She isn't going to make me schedule this a second sooner than I'm ready for it, but it does need to happen. I just hate being this scared, and knowing that my body's betraying me like this.