[dee11]

Hi ever one here. I just finished typing this and I realize how ridiculously long it i so I'm apologzing in advnace - and thanking anyone who might take the time to read this ...

I have had a depression that has lasted for a few months now. I've never suffered from a depression that is this strong before. Usually any bouts of depression have been from circumstantial events - and now the tears just pour out all day long. I think I might have become obsessed with an event that traumatized me. I have had worse things happen in my personal life- but this for some reason keeps playing over and over in my mind and the more I try to make sense of it the more it hurts.

Perhaps I am giving it too much importance, but now I am realizing it might affect my life in the future, and I am at a loss for words.

This past November/ December I started suffering from Panic disorder and attacks. The year of 2007 was extremely difficult. I lost my savings on a stock that I was invested in ( about 40 thousand overnight), I got away from an abusive husband in a foreign country who abused my son both physically and emotionally, was still dealing with the death of my biological father from 2006 , PLUS late 2007 dealing with a very complicated legal process from my late adopted father's probate case ( both my father's have passed away)
On top of that my son who had never had any disciplinary action before in his life suffered from a lot of racist abuse in his school. It got so bad that he was suspended from school for being " the small Hispanic boy" who was going to kill everyone. He was devastated and it happened while I was in another state dealing with my dad's probate. The school eventually said that they made a mistake - and removed it from his record.

At that time I decided to move to NYC so my son could attend school During that transitional period of moving - I would frequently call to where my son was in South Carolina and hear the pain in his voice. He had the small Hispanic assassin removed from his record - but he was getting detention left and right for the smallest of things ( getting honey mustard during lunch, tapping his pencil etc) from teachers at the school who weren't even his teachers. My mom then started being abusive to him ( verbally). I had never heard so much hurt in his voice before. That killed me over the phone - to not be with him and help him in his sadness.

I had a panic attack at the Empire State building. I was brought Beth Israel Emergency Room by the ambulance . I was very fortunate to be interviewed by a psychiatry resident who really listened. She gave me two ativan.

I then went back to South Carolina. During my time back I saw a psychiatrist who my mom got for my son and I after what had happened to him at his school.

During my stay in South Carolina I had another panic attack the day after I had to tape record my grandmother ( the one who had stolen my dad's estate). It was very traumatic and painful for me b/c I had not really spoken to her since my step father died. This led me to have another full blown panic attack and to see a psychiatrist who my mom got for my son and I after what had happened to him at his school. He prescribed me with xanax.

Then while up in New York I had another panic attack when I ran out of my medicine. This was in December. First I tried going to Bellvue where they told me to go back to Beth Israel.

I went back the emergency room department and was fortunate to once again see the psychiatrist who had helped me the first time. I can't be more thankful for what she did for me. However she put me on something that I was not prepared for ( or very uneducated about) - Kolzopine. It was a lifesaver for me ...but what followed was what bring me to stupid depression which I can't snap out of.
I was supposed to go back down to South Carolina to pick up my son and then see my doctor down there - but I decided against it b/c I did not want to fly or travel now that I was experiencing the panic disorder.

I ran out of the Klozopine and thought everything would be ok... b/c I was not panicking or hyperventilating anymore. Well boy was I wrong. After a few days I started to feel deathly sick.

On December 7 I went again where the resident Psychiatrist had recommended me to go to - Bellevue Outpatient clinic. I was seen by a social worker for about 40 minutes and then a Doctor came in and asked me what was wrong. I told her I was out of my medicine. She told me I needed to go downstairs for "Detox" which I did.
As soon as I got down into the emergency room the Police Officer and Orderlies took all my stuff away from me, my empty medicine bottle, and asked me to put my money in a yellow envelope. Which I refused to do. I had about 800 dollars cash on me. The reason being I was planning on going to the lady who was subleasing me my apartment.

The orderlies nor the police would allow me to get up to go to the front desk. I was there for about 3 hours just waiting . . I got very nervous b/c I saw people being checked in and I was just waiting. I told everyone I that I had cash how much it was and was very vocal about it - even other patients waiting in the ER room.

Luckily the same Psychiatrist I had seen a week before ( the one who told be to go back to Beth Israel) walked by and I told him how long I had been waiting and that I had 800 cash on me, and that the policeman and orderlies were not letting me sign in hen let me in the interview room and I told him about how sick I was feeling and how I was out of medicine. He was very amicable yet he told me the same thing. Go back to Beth Isreal.

The next day I woke up and was feeling even sicker than the day before. I did not want to go back to Beth Israel. It was just embarrassing. I called a friend of mine and asked for advice. I went to a vitamin shop and bought vitamins and Valerian to help with my anxiety. Nothing helped. I walked for hours hoping to "walk it out" My body was feeling the worst it had ever felt before. I was twitching as well.

That evening I felt so sick I had to back to the emergency room. I was once again fortunate to meet a resident psychiatrist who listened inetervied me and put me on a weeks supply of medicine. He also told me to come back after -which I did.

During that week I made an appointment with a private doctor who I was going to see on January 8. I went back to see the resident doctor and he gave me another week's supply and told me to come back again. Which I did and then received another weeks supply - just enough to get to through the holidays.

There was some kind of mix up at the Pharmacy and or with the hospital and I was relying on one last week's supply which I thought would be refilled.
I was VERY fortunate that they were helping me like they were at Beth Israel. I do not know what would have happened to me without their assistance. It was the scariest time of my life ( the panic anxiety and breathing issues). I really felt like I was dying. The clozopine really helped diminish the symptoms.

I felt good enough to fly my son up to NY now that I had my apartment and was feeling better. He flew up on December 26. On the 29 I went to Little India and passed by the pharmacy to pick up my refill. I was shocked when I was told there were no refills on Klozopine. I was told by the pharmacist that the lady who worked there had made a mistake.
I fr ooze. The fear of the withdrawls flooded my mind. I was in shock and just sat there in the pharmacy for about an hour. I then started to cry.

I felt sick to my stomach b/c I did not want to go back to Beth Israel. But I had no other choice. When I got to the emergency room there was an Indian resident who was just plain mean. She laughed, told me that the resident who was seeing me was new and had no idea what she was doing, asked me why I didn't go to Metropolitan, and told me she would be "redblocking me" so that I could never go back to Beth Israel again. I was in a state of shock. I told her that I needed my medicine now that I was here with my son more than ever. She asked me if I was going to sue her and then started laughing. Then she started to talk about me selling my medication in front of my son. I stood up and asked to speak to her supervisor. I complained... and told her I would be filing a formal complaint. She had prescribed me three cloznpine and told me to go to Bellvue.
Three pills was only enough to get me the 31 - New Years Eve. I was freaking out. I would never have flown my son up knowing that I was going to be in this condition.

On the 31 in the morning I woke up and tried calling every Doctor in the yellow pages. I called the anxiety hotline number. I called Beth Israel and spoke to a psych resident with a heavy accent. He told me he has spoken to resident that had seen me three days ago - and that I was not supposed to come back to Beth Israel. I pleaded with him for about 40 minutes. He kept repeating no no no no . I then went up to Beth Israel to patient advocacy. I spoke to a very nice man who recommended I go back down to the ER to try.

I was terrified about going through withdrawl on New Years eve weekend and with no medicine. I knew I was not going back to Bellvue - - especially not with my son.

I went down to the ER and saw the resident I had spoken with on the phone. He was very distant and cold and kept repeating no no no no go to Bellvue for about two hours. Then I broke down. I was tired of pleading. I asked to be admitted b/c I knew that in a few days I would be unable to take care of my son with the withdrwal symptoms....
He then stood up and said he could not make that decisions and brought down a female Doctor ( older women) Her first words to me was that she heard I was quite the "Pill Popper" I broke down crying. She then asked me what was wrong and I told her about what was happening with my son and my fathers estate. I had the papers with me and she threw them back at me saying , "that's enough". They also brought in some people to check to see if I was abusing my son. That was terrifying.

I received three pills ( in retrospect I suppose I was lucky to even get that ) and was told to go to Bellvue. The resident came out and handed me a diagnosis of Histrionic Personality disorder. I asked him what was this - why this? He told me that it was "just a sheet of paper"

When I got home I was scared. My mind started racing. I could not stop crying. I had never been treated like that by "Doctors" I was also crying non stop. I felt so bad for my son - but I could not stop. I was terrified about the withdrawl I knew I was going to feel in a couple of days. I goggled histrionic and started throwing up. I felt so dirty and horrible. I was crying even more. Then the unimaginable happened. I looked an saw my son sticking his head out the window screaming that he couldn't breath. I started freaking out. I knew it was a genuine panic attack b/c he had never seen me have one before. The whole cab ride back to the hospital he was gasping for breath sticking his head out of the cab.

After that I decided to send him back to South Carolina until I was under doctor's supervision and controlling my panic and was not going to be in withdrawl. I sent him home crying and went 5 days into withdrawl from the medicine. I did not want to go back to any emergency room. The day after I sent him back I got a call from my mom. My Uncle had fallen into a coma and they WERE FLYING UP TO NEW YORK ( upstate) to be with him. I was overcome by grief ( about my Uncle and it brought up the issues of my father's who had passed away). Plus my son would be alone with a family member who I knew could not take care of him. My other option was sending him to stay with my grandfather. However there was an abusive Uncle ( not the one who was passing away) so I had to call around and ask is he could stay at a friends house.

I was devastated plus going through withdrawls.....it was hell.
Finally I had my private doctor's appointment on the 7 I was so happy. I was prescribed medication, and felt relieved. On the 12 I found out my Uncle had died and I went into a deep depression. I ended back up at the ER ( the same one) b/c I really was feeling suicidal. Stupid of me....but my heart was hurting

Well...when I felt I was stable I flew my son back up. Febuary 3. At the airport while waiting for him I had another full blown panic attack. This time I passed out. The police and ER came and I told them I would get better that my son was flying here alone and that I knew how to get my panic attack under control.

I called my private doctor ( I had not called him since I saw him the month before) and he told me something that broke my heart, moral and spirit. He told me over the phone that Doctors from Beth Israel had called him and that he did not know who I was, nor what I was, and that he was not my doctor and could not help me with medication.
........... what happened got worse I was stuck without a Doctor and nobody would help . . .everyone I went to wanted to know why my doctor had dumped me. So once again I had to go through withdrawl...

I saw begged my Doctor to see me again which he did. He saw both my son and I. After interviewing my son his demeanor changed. He told me he did not believe what the Doctors from Beth Israel had called to tell him. Basically he let me know they had told him I was a "hospital shopper"

Well I found a very kind Doctor and have gotten over the panic and I am now tappered of the Klozpine ( no longer on it)
But my moral and self confidence is broken. I got my medical records and the Beth Israel resident put ( the Indian one) that I was a borderline who was a frequent flier , and I said to her that Bellvue was not giving me any medication b/c supposedly I was selling my medication! That is on my medical record!!!!!
Also the histrionic is put with poor insight!!!!!
My heart is broken and everyday I am crying ...I feel dirty and ashamed b/c of this. I was only looking for help . . . now I realize that this is on my permanent medical record and I am even more depressed. Any job that I might get in the future could be affected by this! Also my life insurance rates for my son
I can's snap out of this ...and I should be able to be strong enough. It just feels like so much hurt and pain - only to be called a histrionic and drug seller?
I know its not true...but seeing it on paper is just humiliating
I need to snap out of my depression b/c it is affecting my life in a terrible way... I need help Why am I letting this bother me so much????????

[gimmeice]

((((((((((((dee11)))))))))))))))

Have you tried seeing a therapist for your problems? I find that seeing a therapist is very helpful for depression. I am sorry you are feeling so bad right now and have had such a horrible time with your doctors.

[foreverlost]

Your story saddens me so much. Labels are often made based on a first impression and/or someone else's incompetent report, yet they tend to follow one around. I once had a CA highway patrol, who claimed to be an alcoholic/drug abuse specialist, claim that a topical skin rash ON MY SHOULDER, was track marks!
Anyway, I think you've done an amazing job of keeping things together as best you could under your circumstances. I sure hope you're seeing a T to try to work out some of this.
Hang in.

[nightbird]

it takes time to heal ... with depression.

if you deal with one Dr. and one therapist, they can pretty much keep things straight for you and you might not have to deal with withdrawl again in such a severe manner, and under such horrible circumstances like you have had in the big city hospital situations you were in.

illicit drug seekers abuse these hospitals also - so that can hurt chances for honest and innocent people who need immediate help also, and there are medical professionals who are inadequate, practicing at the expense of patients, hiding among the good doctors and nurses.

there is nothing that compares to having your own Dr. and dealing with the same pharmacy - period.

please, for your sake, find the best situation so you do not have to go thru this - waiting for all hell to break loose when your prescription expires.

settle down Dear Dee, and try to be at peace.

life and death - we experience this with our families. it is painful, this grieving process, but it transforms.

everything changes. there is hope in this. hang on for the bright days to return to your life. and your little boy, he needs you to find the calmness of such hope for the both of you.

i hope your new dr. situation is worthy of your life.

if not, do not wait, but seek the best situation and settle it as soon as you can so that you are not a sitting duck for more judgements and unfair treatment.

get the best your insurance can afford you.

be well Dee, it will improve.
peace,
nightbird