Sharing is Caring

I've always been the type that will share most anything that I've been through. It's been a double-edged sword most all of my life because either it helps me, or I just say too much. When Obstetrix gave me a prescription for Zoloft though and gave me the choice to use it or not, I was grateful for that trait because after I started taking it, I started having thoughts. Seeing as this is Suicide Prevention Month, and it now has new meaning to me, I feel alright with sharing this. I'll just say the thoughts started out mild at first, easy to reject. But two nights in I had one very vivid, intrusive thought that put me into a very frightened state. The next day, one of the surgeons that checks on our baby could tell something was wrong and when I told her about the thoughts, she told me to promptly stop taking the depression pills.

I more or less agreed with her, but asked one of the NICU doctors if they could get me someone to talk to, to make sure this was a good course of action. I got sent a social worker instead, who was very nice, but had a lot on her plate and took most of the day to figure out what to do for me. At one point she had me call the on-call doctor at Obstetrix since that's where I got the prescription, in the hopes that he could get me in touch with the doctor that treated me, or at least get some advice. Unfortunately though, this only made the problem worse when he kept talking over me, didn't listen to anything I said and just kept insisting I go to the ER. The one time he really listened was when I told him that it was strongly suggested that I stop the meds to which he responded:

"Don't stop taking the Zoloft, it's perfectly good medication! It's your depression that's giving you those thoughts."

I wanted to tell him for the second time that I had not had the thoughts BEFORE I took the meds, but I knew he wasn't going to listen at that point. I just kept saying ok until he finally hung up. I thought of just hanging up on him, but worried he might then send someone to strong arm me into the ER. I also had a funny thought for a brief second before I had to go get some aggression out after being riled up.

It might be saying something for this day and age when even though I was severely pissed off, I thought of a meme I could make for the situation. Sad, I know. 

It would be a magical world indeed though, if all medications worked the same for everyone and didn't have adverse side effects. But they don't and if I ever get that doctor at Obstetrix, I'm going to ask for someone else. As for the end of the story, I talked to the social worker and she admitted that I wasn't the first to complain about this doctor and she went off to find more answers. As the hours passed and it started getting dark outside, I started to get severe anxiety because all of the thoughts always came at night. I ended up in the ER after all and got to stay in a safe place until I passed the 24 hour mark from my last dose and was evaluated. 

I honestly don't know what it's like for those that have thoughts like that without medication, but I urge, plead, beg, and implore anyone having suicidal thoughts to talk to someone. Get some help. Too many good people are lost to this, and it doesn't have to be that way. There are so many caring doctors, nurses, and psychiatrists out there, ready and willing to help. And yes, I'm sure Zoloft works great for certain people. But it's not for everyone.