So, one positive thing to come out of the debacle of dying relatives, lost jobs, and just general "YIKES!" moments of the past year: we moved to Garrett Co. MD.
For the most part, I like it here. It reminds me of going to college in the Shenandoah Valley. But, the majority, and I mean vast majority, of people we meet here make it clear that we are outsiders, and outsiders are not welcome. Well, their wallets are welcome, but not the people. Go ahead, try to figure out how my money is going to be spent where I'm made to feel a blight on the world. I'll wait...
Now, GC is largely known for Deep Creek Lake. And, like any other touted beauty spot, the Lake draws tourists. I don't think it would be as many as we used to see in the Outer Banks, but it's more than a fair few. Not belonging to either the local crowd, or the tourist crowd, I sometimes get a bizarre third-person experience watching the interactions of the two.
I get why almost everyone I've met users the term "tourons". There's the typical sense of entitlement from some of the tourists you'll run into. "I'm on vacation - I won't be here for long and I don't care about your backstory. I want enjoyment and I want it now." Even I, avoiding the Lake area as much as I can seeing as our house is less than 2 miles from Wisp, can feel the haughtiness and disdain oozing from the shoppers at Shop N Save or Walmart. It pisses me off, and I've only lived here about a year. As an aside, it reminds me of Eddie Izzard's description of Americans pursuing happiness. Look it up, it's worth it.
Now, so far I've bitched a bit, where's the positive?
Well, when the established population labels you as a "touron" based on where you lived before, and you have to fight to be recognized as something other than "part f the problem", nonsensical struggles lose their luster.
Such was the case with psychiatrist. I know there's not a whole lot of selection in mental health providers here, but back in March I informed my provider's office that I was beginning to have serious problems with depression, and would he like to see me sooner to look at my medication. I never heard back, even after I started cutting myself to cope with the intense periods. I was genuinely scared for myself. I sure as hell wasn't going to the local ER, though. The last time I saw my psych before that I had stressed that Lamictal made me too tired since starting the Lyrica, which just made the depression worse. My now former psych thought my best treatment option would be ECT.
I don't have anything against ECT per se. I did my undergrad work in Psychology. I know the very real benefits. I also know the side effects and risks, particularly to someone of my size. I already have memory problems (due to the fibro, I've been told), and it makes me frustrated and distressed, almost to the point of tears. Could you imagine someone like that trying to cope with the memory problems that might come after ECT treatment? Not to mention that I'd be going into it morbidly obese, with a history of arrhythmia, episodic hypertension, and breathing complications after anesthesia. Not the greatest setup.
So, admittedly not expecting great results, I endeavored to find a new psychiatrist. The behavioral health specialist at my PCP's office actually put me in touch with a nurse practitioner. I've only seen her once, but I'm optimistic. She actively tried to determine how past medications have made me feel, both mentally and physically. Yes, I was over the moon to stop Lamictal. I'm sure that has me a bit prejudiced at the moment.
But the difference . . . Oh, dear Reader, the difference is phenomenal. I know I may sound like I'm waxing manic, but I assure you, I have kept a strict eye on myself, and I'm maybe around a 5.5 on a 10 scale for mood. Maybe.
The first major difference is my mental acuity. I can actually think, properly think, almost all the time. Yes, I do still have spontaneous recall problems, sometimes. And, yes, I do still feel foggy, sometimes. I don't feel like I'm trying to think through treacle, though. My thoughts don't race around, either. They're a little more snappy to the tangential, but I just as quickly come back. That's the ADD, though, which I'll have to fight insurance on later. (The only medicine to ever help my ADD isn't approved by the FDA for adults, yay.)
Second amazingly awesome and fantastically fabulous difference? I've gone down two pants sizes in about six weeks. Yes, I'm a tad more active. I mean, I'll have a day where my back and body pain is around a 4 instead of an 8, so I'll try to do more on those days. Granted, I pay for it the next day, back up to an 8 or higher but the fatigue isn't quite as bad as when I took Lamictal. I'm dead tired in the morning. And left to my own devices, I can easily sleep 16 hours on those days including naps. But my body responds to persistent prodding better. I can goad it into action with a little caffeine (a cup of half coffee/half water, maybe). The fatigue on Day 2 after the activity of Day 1 kinda negates the benefits, so in talking with one of my PTs today we decided it has mostly been water retention and some general swelling to ease. Still, two pants sizes!
I can actually get excited about stuff and have the energy to be excited. My husband told me that he and my mother had discussed how they haven't seen me this "alive" in a long time. I told my PCP and my therapist, this is the first I've actually felt like myself in over two years. Not "manic", not "depressed", just able to think clearer and feel something other than sluggish.
Oh, and just because we stopped Lamictal, it doesn't mean I'm off medications entirely, so please do not be overly concerned. My entire health team and I watch everything like hawks. We're just trying a new combination to test the waters.
Off to enjoy what remains of the day. I hope you do, too.
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