Happy New Year

It is hard to believe that it is 2009 and that this year I will turn 32. So far my 30's have been pretty good with no hospitalizations. I have to give credit to my medications. Seven years ago, I was reading a book titled Your Drug May be Your Problem - I think that was the exact title, but it's been a long time so I could be off. My drug was my problem back then. It was causing so many physical health problems that I took myself off of it. Zyprexa caused me to become pre-diabetic and the insulin resistance resulted in my ovaries developing cysts throwing my hormones all out of whack. I got a rash on the back of my neck which was a tell-tale indicator of insulin resistance. My family physician said the rash was something else and gave me a medication to apply to it but the rash remained. It wasn't until I went to an endocrinologist (I decided to go myself, no doctor told me to go to one) that I found out what was going on with me. I was off of Zyprexa for six months and slowly slid into true madness. My psychiatric nurse had no idea that was happening to me- I hid it from her. The only person that knew was Dr. K and he saw the worst of it. He diagnosed me with Dissociative Identity Disorder otherwise known as Multiple Personality Disorder. He said I had at least four distinct personalities. He says when they put me back on meds it went away. The hospital I ended up in didn't see that and diagnosed me with Schizoaffective Disorder. I was a mess, nonetheless.

Jeanne treats DID and says I do not have it. She says that I have some dissociative symptoms though. Isn't that lovely. Schizophrenia with depression and dissociative features. Nowadays I am on an "old-school" antipsychotic, that was in the 'family' of drugs that included Haldol. I no longer see the psychiatric nurse. I see a psychiatrist that my very first psychiatrist trained. She is from some other country and we have a language/communication barrier at times. No offense but I'd rather see an American psychiatrist, one that I could have better understanding with. For now, it seems that this is the only psychiatrist that takes my insurance local to my house. Medicaid- no one wants to take it. Medicare pays 50% of mental health fees. That would mean about $80 would be out-of-pocket, at least. Perhaps if I get a job, I could afford that. Until then I am pretty much stuck explaining what keyboarding means and why Americans want to do volunteer work.

I might be starting up some volunteer clerical work this month with an ALS organization. I have to go for a sort of interview, but they are going to contact me sometime within this month. I need to do something constructive with my time. I hardly ever hear from my best friend nowadays. My sister is in her own world. If I have something to do during the day, the evenings might not be so boring. It is time I took control.