Sometimes the Hardest Thing and the Right Thing Are the Same

I was absolutely delighted when I was hired for my job working in housing for people with mild-to-moderate mental illness.  This was back in January.  The delight did not last.  I spent most of the past 5 months becoming increasingly miserable, despite every attempt my supervisor, Tilly, made to help me fit in the position.  I made pages of pros & cons.  I did thought diaries until my hand cramped.  I exchanged a ridiculous number of phone calls and texts with Tilly.  I even took 3 weeks of medical leave, spending part of that time in inpatient, certain that the problem was me.

Sadie kept telling me I was a square peg trying to fit in a round hole and “it’s not the peg’s fault it doesn’t fit”.  I just didn’t know what to do if I quit.  Two weeks ago I finally took the leap and submitted my resignation.  My last day was supposed to be Friday, but after working Monday and telling the clients I was leaving, I started wishing that could have been my last day.  Tilly agreed that Friday would be very hard on me, and said if I wanted Monday as my last day she could make it happen.  So on Wednesday I went for my exit interview and turned in my badge and keys.

When I was lamenting that what I’m good at and what the job description consists of don’t overlap, Sadie encouraged me to take the StrengthsFinder 2.0 test.  I ended up with my top 5 strengths as Empathy, Strategic, Developer, Input, Responsibility.  These do fit in the mental health field well, but in a more administrative position.  That’s exactly what I was starting to discover while working – that I understand people and can help them, but I’d do better at more organizational behind-the-scenes work.

Even so, it took 5 months for me to stop being convinced that not fitting in at the job didn’t make me a failure.  I was so sure that I could do well at it and that clearly it was my mental illness standing in the way.  That’s how I ended up in inpatient, with Dr. Flanders dumping my entire medication regimen and starting over.  I thought clearly the meds weren’t working right and trying something radical would help.  In fact, it made things worse as the medication didn’t get to a therapeutic level so I was getting more depressed instead of less so, and I also had an array of unpleasant side effects, including being constantly drowsy and unable to concentrate.  I keep wondering if things would have worked out had I not changed medications.

My follow-up with the psychiatrist is not until the 24th, over two months after my discharge from inpatient.  I went to my family nurse practitioner for help, as she’s the one who normally manages my medication anyway.  First she increased my dose of lithium, after acknowledging it was the cause of my side effects.  Then when I started feeling tempted to skip my meds I returned, asking to switch back to the medications I was on before inpatient.  She was unwilling to make drastic changes, and instead of a gradual shift toward what I’d been taking before, she tripled my dose of Abilify.

Close to two weeks ago I couldn’t tolerate the drowsiness anymore and stopped taking the lithium.  A couple of days later I ditched my other psych meds as well.  Upon learning this, Sadie encouraged me to call the mental health center’s head nurse for advice on what to do until my appointment with the psychiatrist.  I was pleasantly shocked when the nurse told me to stay off the meds and just monitor for symptoms carefully and call if there’s a problem (or ER if there’s an enormous problem).  She indicated that maybe I don’t need so much medication continuously and they might be able to come up with a PRN medication instead.

It’s wishful thinking to believe that would actually work out, but I keep on wishing.  My mood is good, my anxiety is fairly mild, and the only thing worrisome I’ve noticed is a little bit of irritability.  Nothing unmanageable.

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