Not every day is a good day. When you have mood disorders, no matter what medications your on and what therapy you have participated in, some things are going to break through. For me, it can happen when I’ve tried to mentally prepare myself for something for days, and yet what happens is unexpected.
Yesterday morning, I tried to call the neurologist’s office that I went to five years ago. I couldn’t remember his name, so I asked the receptionist to look it up for me. I was prepared for “He works in a different office,” or “He moved to California.” I thought I was prepared for the disappointment of not being able to see him again. She gave me his name and told me he retired just after I left last time. “Retired” was not something I prepared myself for.
For a lot of people, that small difference of “moved away” versus “retired” wouldn’t mean much. They both mean that he’s unavailable as a doctor currently. For me, I broke into tiny pieces. My voice changed immediately as I tried not to cry and as soon as I hung up the phone, the floodgates opened. I messaged a friend, I messaged a small group of Ingress friends. After being unable to stop crying after almost half an hour, I also texted my mom asking her to call me.
My Ingress friends, the women I left a note for as I could barely see through my tears, are amazing. I mentioned in my Ingress post (How I Got Out) how supportive my team has been. This includes when I’ve lost my shit completely. I hadn’t slept enough, the crying was making the pain in my head worse than it had been in days, and I had no idea how to move forward making an appointment with a neurologist.
Before I got in touch with my mommy (and yes, when I’m crying she’s still “mommy”), Lois* left a message describing the next steps I should take (with Superwoman* and Pretty Bit* agreeing). At the time, I could read the next steps, but I couldn’t actually get the information to stick in my head enough to work with it. When my mom called me back, she and I talked for a few minutes while she was at work. I managed to mostly stop crying, and she gave me almost the same exact information. After being a little prepared for it by Lois, I was much more able to comprehend and internalize the information mom gave me.
Basically, I need to call, make an appointment, ask to be put on the short list (waiting/cancellation list) and be prepared to go in with little notice in hopes that I can be seen sooner than six weeks from now. This seems like such an easy task to read it now, but overtired and emotionally drained from unexpected information and crying for half an hour and giving myself an extremely bad headache, this was an insurmountable task. When I first saw it, I felt like it was impossible, but I owe Lois many thanks because it was her preparing me that made it seem like I could try it later when my mom gave the same advice.
A lot of people don’t understand how something so trivial, like a doctor retiring, when we’re not expecting it can be so devastating. I can’t explain to you why it is, I can only tell you that it’s much more possible than people without mental health issues typically understand. I am lucky in that my support group is vast and includes these Ingress ladies. Pretty Bit kept reminding me to breathe and while at the moment even that seemed impossible, just being reminded is so helpful. Breathing is something we do automatically but the deep breaths that help us calm down are not, they are intentional and controlled.
I got some sleep, got the headache to subside in the afternoon. Milan*, one of the other women in the group I mentioned earlier, checked in and asked how I was doing. I was much better by this point and appreciated her support. While I have not made my necessary phone calls yet, I feel I will be able to today.
It’s okay to have depressive episodes. It’s okay to have bad days that break through your treatment. It’s okay to not be able to handle things sometimes. If this happens, though, please find your support systems. Talk with them, be honest, let them help you. We can sit and do nothing and tell no one and nothing will change, or we can try to ask for help. It is one of the hardest things we do, but it is also one of the most necessary. I will keep you updated about the doctor, and I hope you keep your friends updated on your struggles too.
~Brutally Honest Eccentric~
*Names changed. My life is an open book, but their privacy is important, if they wish it.
**Image is my hand – heartbeat ring from my sister, a reminder that life is ups and downs, green nails because my Ingress team’s color is green.