There is a fish tank in psychiatrist’s waiting room (on the nhs too, gosh!) and I have blogged in the past about how my favourite resident of the said tank, orange gravel moving fish, sadly passed away, or perhaps made a brave escape attempt into the water cooler. From my latest visit today it seems the whole tank has been repopulated (some sort of powercut disaster? an aggrieved patient? or just the short life cycle of fish?) and now includes a very depressed looking fish. Maybe it’s some sort of empathy fish, or an especially sensitive fish and atmosphere of the place has got to her/him. I have a new favourite psychiatrist fish, I hope it survives.
In other news I am really not comforted by the fact my psychiatrist is umming and ahhing about my medication again, saying he’s not sure if a higher dose (I am already on a pretty high dosage as it is) would work or a change of medication either, apparently I’ve been on most types of anti-depressants before. I’ve been on fluoxetine a.k.a prozac and paroxitine a.k.a seroxat a.k.a the highly ironic branded name of ‘paxil’ , which haven’t worked so he seems doubtful a new one will. The anti-depressant I’m on now, venlafaxine again with a bitterly ironic branded name of ‘effexor’ which also manages to sound like internet slang, isn’t really working. It keeps more stable than some others but I feel so lethargic, it seems to have a definite numbing and sludgey sort of effect, a veil of clammy, stifling grey-beige apathy, the sort of nihilism that’s absolutely no fun. I still suffer hideous depressive bouts, suicidal thoughts, self harm all that malarkey so I have no idea if it’s helping much, and yet again the side effects (depression, suicidal thoughts, yadda yadda) listed are pretty much the same as the symptoms I have anyway so how on earth can I tell what’s what? It’s like ridiculous post Kafka joke; ‘this is an anti-depressant but the side effects include depression so good luck figuring that out and if you’re not mad already ha just wait!’
I have been given two months to think about it. Yet again it’s the same old same old nothing seems to work no one knows what to do and ‘experts’ look confused, oh living with depression what a circuitous existence. I’ve been here so many times before I’m starting to wonder what the point of anything is if my life is akin to constant repeats of Top Gear on Dave, an infinite loop of irritation.