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CD7

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  1. It's alarming to think just how much of our mental health services are dependent on the government. And what is truly appalling is the institutionalised ignorance. I had a friend who worked for a large NGO, ironically in their D&A counselling. His pain and battles had made him want to help others, but ultimately it was too much for him. They sacked him, if you can believe this, after getting him to sign a statement in which he promised to not commit suicide. That was over 20 years ago, but things haven't improved. I once, in absolute desperation, made the mistake of phoning the government's suicide hotline. Honestly, most of the time was spent dealing with their obsession that I could not be found in the government database. I was repeatedly accused of lying about my identity and was told they couldn't help me unless I told the truth. At that time there was no centralised database, the only records they had were of public hospital admissions, and since I had always between treated by a Psychiatrist in private practice, I did not show up, and they simply did not know how to handle that. On another occasion, having survived an attempt, I self-presented to the local mental health clinic, only to be told that because of my postal code, I needed to go to the clinic on the other side of town. It reminds of the signs I saw in a new public toilet. There were the usual signs you would expect to see, asking patrons to not smoke, flush after every use, etc, etc. Except that some helpful bureaucrat had Braille added to every sign. Think about that for a moment. (You're blind, and using a public toilet, are you really going to rub your hands all over the walls on the off chance there might be some Braille???) Similarly, we are beset by mental health initiatives, designed by people with no thought or clue as to how sufferers are actually effected. Our government has setup an initiative to provide redress for victims of CSA. Registering was literally the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Reliving the trauma so that I could write it down, very nearly destroyed me. Now obviously I had to describe my lingering symptoms, which include anxiety, fearfulness, paranoia, various phobias, and a pathological fear of talking to strangers on the phone. So how did this agency try to progress my case? Yep, they rang me from a blocked number, on my private mobile phone, and tried to get me to confirm my identity.
  2. I am back on 300mg Effexor XR. I was on 200mg of Pristiq, which is pointless as it does not have a linear response.
  3. The first thing is to stop beating yourself up. Maybe you made a mistake, but its not the end of the world (even though I know it can feel like that.) I am only just getting on with my life, after sitting in a deep dark hole for 4 years. It hurts to think about how much time and money I have wasted, and what the consequences are, but I am learning to let go and move forward. Please try not to worry about what is past. Relationships are about "compromise" and "give and take" but only you can decide what you are comfortable and happy with. And here I have to be brutally honest. You are clearly family and marriage orientated, and he isn't. That's a difficult chasm to cross. Based on what you've said, it sounds like its time for you to move on. You are obviously somebody who cares deeply about relationships, but please accept that you can move on and put this behind you. There are no children, you WILL recover in time, and sadly it sounds like he will recover quickly. If you want a family then you deserve a man with the same goals of marriage and children. I am currently looking for work, and I understand how tough it can be. Hang in there.
  4. Oh Thank God. Sometime around Christmas I dragged myself to the doctor, told him Pristiq was , and begged to go back on Effexor. It has taken a while, but I am back on top. The difference is unbelievable. Sad to say that I lost YEARS of my life to this stuff, but at least now I can move forward. Sure, the side effects are more noticeable, but so what.
  5. I have been married for over 25 years, and I believe I have mostly done my best to be reasonable romantic. Always on birthdays and anniversaries, but lots of other ad-hock occasions as well. I will admit that is later years its not as much, but I still make the effort,especially for big occasions. But why is it always up to me? Not ONCE has my wife done anything for Valentines day, or organised something for an anniversary or my birthday. And I'm pretty easy to impress. Bake me a cake, cook me a meal, make love, anything. But no, I'm in deep depression and she cracks the major s***s with me because I didn't do anything for Valentines day. Screams at me that it shows she doesn't mean anything to me. (Which if I judged her by the same standard, well lets just say that if I had $1M for every time she's done something romantic, I'd still be broke.)
  6. Like many who have suffered major depression for a long time, I have thought about suicide. A lot. Around a year ago, things got to the point where I was literally on the verge, but I thought well why not give one of these numbers a go,just in case they have something I haven't thought off. So my first attempt at getting suicide help involved arguing with some ***** because he couldn't find my name in a computer. How the hell do I know why there is no record of me in the public health database? Surprising undaunted I pushed on and got someone to drive me to see a doctor. Keep in mind that at this point I was ready to take my life just to make the suffering stop. The doctor literally told me that since he didn't know me, he wasn't going to try and help me. Finally in desperation I presented at my regional mental health clinic. After learning of my situation, I was quickly assessed by a succession of 3 different people, the last being a psychiarist. Problem is that once they have reassured themselves that my death was nolonger imminent, they effectively lost interest. It's just too hard to access help, and I just can't be bothered anymore.
  7. The medical profession gives me the $#!%@ When I go to see a doctor, I am allocated a massive 10 minutes of the doctors time (which includes all their admin time, etc.) They always give me the 3rd degree over my medication, and I feel like I have 5 minutes to justify everything. You REALLY want to help me? Want my life story and medical history? Then allocate me more than 10 minutes of your time. Otherwise shut up and give me drugs! I'd love you to take the time to understand my history, maybe discuss why the currents meds are barely keeping me alive, and discuss new initiatives in treating depression. I have the time, but you don't, so maybe stop making me feel worse, and just sign the script. And no, exercising doesn't make me feel better.
  8. Gives me the s***s. I KNOW all the things I should be doing. I'm also sick of people (including doctors) telling me what will make me feel better. Seriously, how stupid are they? If its one thing humans are good at, its doing stuff that makes us feel better. Sometimes eating makes me feel better, so I eat. Too much. For my health, I should eat less and exercise more. Fair enough, but that doesn't make me feel better. "Oh you should go for a walk, it will make you feel better." No dumbass, if it made me feel better I'd already be doing it.
  9. We have a very two-tiered system here in Australia. Either you are wealthy enough to pay for an actual psychiatrist, or you suffer with the crud dolled out by the government. As usual, the bureaucrats manage to add 2 + 2, and come up with 27. They believe that the solution to the suicide epidemic is to give you lots of numbers to call. Who will do what exactly? Imagine ringing the fire department and being told that you get to talk to somebody about your fire. If I ring one of these numbers, or even visit my local emergency department, or indeed a few other options, and tell them I am ready to **** myself. They will "respond instantly," and talk to me very nicely, until I promise not to **** myself immediately, then I am dropped back on the scrap heap. I don't need to talk to people, I need TREATMENT for a long-term illness that has gotten a lot worse. I think that almost by definition, many people that take that final step, do so because they have lost all hope. I feel that many will have been through the wringer, jumped through the hoops, and ultimately given up. I WANT to die. I'm not ready to concede just yet, but I have given up hope.
  10. It astonishes me the dangerous misinformation that was out there with Pristiq. Both my prescribing doctor (who is generally very well-informed) and at least one other doctor have repeated the lie that "Desvenlafaxine is the metabolite of Venlafaxine, so it does the same thing without taxing your liver." I was on Effexor for years and doing fine. Then I was changed to Pristiq and have been crap ever since. Venlafaxine is a powerful SSNRI. Its metabolite Desvenlafaxine is also an SSNRI but nowhere near as powerful. So with Effexor, you get the wham followed by the aftershock, with Pristiq its ONLY the aftershock. Furthermore whilst Effexor has a strong linear response, Pristiq does not. That's why the recommended maximum dose is still only 50. I now need to find a Psychiatrist to review my medication.
  11. Do you have trouble sleeping at night? For years I was on Effexor and Remeron/Avanza. The latter is good for anxiety, didn't do much for depression. Its very sedating and good for getting to sleep at night. the only thing to watch with Remeron/Avanza is that it can trigger the munchies, and make you amorous. People who take it during the day often report weight gain becuase they are always hungry.
  12. If you ask about Hell, then presumably you're looking at this from some kind of Christian perspective or similar. I don't know precisely what form Heaven takes, but my simple view is that Heaven is eternity with God, Hell is eternity without. The fundamental premise of Christianity, is a God of compassion who so loved the world that he sent his only begotten son to die for our sins. God is not looking for excuses to throw us into hell, he already has enough. I believe that people driven to suicide are exactly the kind of people Jesus came for.
  13. Has anyone had ECT? I'd like to hear, good and bad
  14. There was a time when my faith helped with my depression. But now I am just so beaten up and busted I have nothing. For a good while, I soldiered on under the belief that depression was "my Cross to bear," but I can't do it any more.
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