I Have An Abusive Relationship With Psychiatry

You should know I don’t feel safe or cared for by IU Health. In fact I’ve never felt safe and cared for by psychiatry. The last time I talked with your office has caused the last few weeks horrible anxiety and fear of dealing with anyone from your office. I feel you need to hear my story to understand how to help me.

I never had any mental health problems in my life until I was six weeks post partum from having my son. I went to OBGYN and told him I could not stop crying. This was 1992. He gave me prozac and said I would have to take it all my life?? It changed my personality. It made me feel bad and I shouldn’t need to take a anti depressent all my life because of a bout of post partum depression. Two years later I was not feeling good due to the med and I wasn’t aware that these meds can have side effects. A doctor put me on Zoloft. I became manic. I started smoking cigarettes. I did things I would never do. I left my husband.

This was the beginning of how psych meds destroyed my life. Eventually I went off them and my life went back to normal. Jump to 2003

I have been tormented by psychiatry for two decades. From the moment I was “diagnosed” in an ER in Seattle up to the last conversation I had with you office staff, I am still traumatized by your profession. Each new Dr. I talk to including spending an hour with Dr. Thomas telling him of the waking nightmare I have endured by Psychiatry. These traumatic events have caused me to have PTSD. Not one Dr. in last 5 years has addressed this or diagnosed me with PTSD because I believe they either don’t believe me or are unwilling to admit that Psychiatry can do people harm.

Here I will list just a few examples of some traumatic events:

1. When it all started: I had a thyroid problem. I believe the new prescription was too high and I began to have strange symptoms. This was 2003 in Seattle. My boyfriend took me to the ER. We had to wait in a storage closet on a makeshift bed, there were so many people there. After three hours we decided to leave. A security guard came up to me and scream YOU ARE NOT LEAVING and threw me down on the floor. I was then put in a concrete room, a holding cell for mental patients. There I was locked in and observed. I pissed myself many times because they wouldn’t let me out to pee.

(I was diagnosed bi polar in 15 minutes with an ER doctor)

After this I lost my career. I was over drugged and slept all day. This type of ER event happened two more times when I went back to the ER because the drugs were making me hallucinate. My boyfriend was convinced that I had bi polar symptoms because my family doctor had changed my synthyroid to a much higher dose than normal and we didn’t catch it until much later, by then I was already diagnosed, over drugged and (what is the word for complying without fighting)

During the 2000’s in Seattle I never had the same doctor. I was in a system for poor people without insurance. Everytime I had a Dr’s appointment there would be a new doctor and he would change my medication completely. I was unrecognizable to my partner. I had paranoia. I was so heavy and sleepy I would need help to the bedroom. Once I was interviewed for an intake for new Doc when a young girl ask me questions about my life. She said “you believe you are talking to Kurt Cobain from the grave right?” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO. I had told someone I had lovely dreams for a long time of Eddie Vedder who was a musician with Pearl Jam who lived in my neighborhood. This kind of terrible care was normal by that time.

In 2008, I finally found a doctor I liked and he was a private doc. By this time I stopped telling people I was mis diagnosed because I was basically believing them. This doc treated me for ADHD and Bi Polar indicated if you have a co morbid condition both should be addressed.

I began volunteering for West Side Baby, a non profit who supply diapers, clothing and essential items for children. I also founded a Baby Pantry in West Seattle Food bank. My life was good. I started with 50 families and by the end I have over 1,500 families that looked to me for baby and child supplies. Then one day, that doctor that was treating me for a co morbid condition packed up and left town. He had no other colleague to send me to. Here I was suddenly going cold turkey off Abilify and lithium. It was hell. Every where I looked no one would help me. My family doc was sympathetic but could not help me. If I had weaned off the meds I know I would have been fine.

One night I went to an ER alone because by now my partner of 13 was really stressed out about my health. In an ER I told them that my Doc left and I don’t have a prescription for my meds. Again, I knew coming off psych meds cold turkey were making me lose my mind. They send me home with a piece of paper saying if you feel bad in morning come back. My partner and I decided it would be better if we no longer lived together a few weeks before. After the ER visit the night before, I was scheduled to move into my own place in two weeks. That morning I woke up early feeling quite well actually. In my PJ’s drinking coffee at my desk. My partner came up to me and coldly said I needed to me that day. I had lived in this house for a decade and paid rent and was on lease. I got upset and said I’m waiting for them to paint my apartment. I can’t move today. He went back into his bedroom and locked the door. Of course I got quite upset. Begging him to come out of bedroom to discuss this in an adult manner. I started ramping up. Being off meds and having withdrawal, I threw some of my plants on the floor. I was crying hysterically. He literally planned it I believe. There was no property damage. Only books on floor and plants. While calming myself at my desk, I looked out the window and two cop cars had pulled up. 4 policmen were coming to my door!! I answered calmly and respectfully and told them what was happening. I said I had not doctor and no hospital will help me as I’m coming off medication. In the kitchen my partner told a different story I guess. I was calm and respectful. One of the policement told me to put my hands behind my back. They took to out of my house in my pajamas no shoes no bra no coat. It was January. I was put in jail for three days. I had no family there. I was in solitude the first day and I blacked out. A doc came to the door and push a valium through the slot and said “You shouldn’t be in here.” It was the most horrible thing that ever happened to me. Trauma beyond imagination. I ended up having to go to mental health probabtion for 2 years. They never helped me get a doctor. Soon after that I found myself without shoes on a train to Boeing field. It was a sunny day and I guess I started walking. I woke up near a parking lot and police came and ask if I needed help. (This was a few months after I moved) I didn’t know how I got there so an ambulance came and took me to a hospital I’d never been to. At first I was fine, just anxious and telling them how I couldn’t find a doc and how I had to stop my meds cold turkey. After hours they gave me something to drink. I guess it was a sedative. I must have fallen asleep.

I woke up in 4 point restraints! No one was in the room. I screamed help me! Someone help me. Why am I in restraints. Help me! Help me!!!!!!!!!!!!! I saw purgatory. It was like an out of body experience. I thought they wanted to kill me. I still can hear the screams in my mind. The jail and the restraits flashbacks happen to me often. Such horrible memories I can’t get out of my mind and no one has ever said you have PTSD from this. How can I not?

So I ended up in my own place and eventually the withdrawal stopped and I lived for the next two years with out psych meds and I was happy, able to walk and get groceries and be healthy and write some of my screenplay. In January of 2013 I left Seattle because the memories of the torture in all the psych wards (there are so many stories Dr. Delaney about things that happened to me in psych wards. I just can’t retell them here,)

I came back to Indianapolis where my son and family lives. Although I moved into a scary neighborhood, I was no longer on psych meds and doing just fine. I did manage panic attacks with clonazapam from my family doctor. The flashbacks of all the trauma not only happened during the day but in dreams.

In spring of 2013 I developed a bladder condition called Interstitial Cystitis. At the time I didn’t know what it was. I just knew I was in pain and for two days I peed over everything in my house because I couldn’t control my bladder and the pain became an emergency. I called an ambulance. I got to St. Vincent’s ER on 86^th. (The place I gave birth to my son) In the ER they checked me for a bladder infection. They could tell I clearly was in terrible pain so they gave me a morphine drip. Then I lost track of time. Several hours later at 2am, I woke up on the floor of the Stress Center! I was crying on the floor what am I doing here? Two nurses at the desk just stared at me. I continued to cry and cry someone help me. A nurse came over and shot me up with Haldol. Never ask me never ask my permision. I was forced drugged for two weeks. The doc I saw there was cruel and cold and ask me questions like “do you talk to Jesus?” I was very lucid and fucking pissed off that he had no right and I came to the hospital for bladder pain. I told him ‘I talk to jesus, what of it?” He said you will have to stay two more days. Never was my bladder pain treated.

This happened two more times. Went to the ER for pain, (by this time I knew I had IC and told them) They would send a nurse from Stress Center to try to get me to admit myself. They would say “you seem stressed.” Of course I do! I’m in pain and no one will help me. On pain meds I agreeed. And was put on drugs again (which is the reason I am still on them because I have never been able to get a Dr. to wean me off) Evetually I met a urologist and he diagnosed my bladder considition and gave me hydro destintion procedure and that gave me relief for about a year. Then one night I went to St. Vincent’s and they forced me into Stress Center again while I was in pain. This time I just laid on the floor of the bathroom crying hysterically in pain. They only said you are upsetting the other patients. I told them I needed a urlolgist and another hydro destinion procedue. Hours went on and they put me in this large room with no bed and just a rubber mat on floor. They said a doc is coming. Some guy showed up, he wasn’t a urologist. I don’t know what he was. I told him what I need. He said………

“take down your pants and underwear and spread your legs.” Then he stood 8 feet from me laying on floor with pants down and looked at my vagina and said “You look fine to me.”

Of course I was back on drugs but didn’t ever find a psychiatrist. A family doc was writing my meds but keep saying you need to find a psychiatist. I could never find anyone near me. It was insane how I had medicae and could not find a doc. My insurance was with Community. I never went back to St. Vincents. One day a year later I couldn’t sleep. I had gone three days without sleep. I went to Community North ER. They put me in a room with no bed and I laid on the floor. They keep bullying me and saying you need to get up. There were no others in the mental health holding cells. One room was empty with bed and they wouldn’t let me lay down. Mind you all these times, even though I have family here there wasn’t one person helping me. No advocate. No one to keep me safe. My son had a newborn and wasn’t able to help. They admitted me to the first floor I was on. One night a mexican woman as in her room crying. I went in to comfort her. Then I went up to the front desk to let the nurses know she needed help. They didn’t help her. They said we need your blood. She literally kept stabbing me and couldn’t get blood. I yelled to stop! I said I can’t believe you won’t help that woman. Next morning, a security came and my dr. said they were moving me. They took me to the dark basement where they keep the really fucked up people. They took me down and guard had a gun. They locked me in a dark room and I blacked out as I always did in extreme fear. At one point a patient came into my room and threatened me. The next day they put me in yet another ward this one was nice. The meds they gave me I don’t know but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t function while I was in there. I felt like a lab rat. I’ve always felt like a lab rat with psychiatry.

When I made the decision to change my insurance to IU Health, I thought I would have better luck and I had graduated from IU. It took a while. I think I saw a Dr. powell. I don’t remember. Then I got Dr. Stephane. I told him the best I could of my past with Psychiatry but since he only let me speak for less than 5 minutes, he always ignored the fact that I want to get away from psychiatry and I want to try to wean off responsibilty so I can go back to living without meds. He never helped but he was at the point the best Dr. I had ever had and it was consistant. No changing Dr.s all the time. Of course he eventually left and again I was stressed. So I had a temp dr. I don’t remember. Then I got Dr. Thomas and for the first time in my life here was a psychiatrist who didn’t scare me. Who let me talk a lot!! Who listened. Who showed compassion. It was too good to be true. And to be able to see him virtually and not have to be anxious and drive all the way downtown from Noblesville.

So I knew Dr. Thomas would leave, but I didn’t know there would be more trauma on me. I don’t lose my primary physican every year. I don’t lose my urologist every year. Why do I have to be juggled around with a new Dr again! And this time I’m told

‘YOU CAN ONLY SEE DR. MCANN ON MONDAY MORNINGS”

Let me tell you why I have been having flashbacks of the last converstaion with your office. This is how it went.

Dr Thomas: Let’s get you scheduled for Dr. McCann. He only see patients on Monday mornings.

Me: That does not work for me and I don’t want another intern/resident. I want a proper consistant doctor like Dr. Delaney.

Dr. Thomas: I’m sorry. (schedules appoint with Dr. McCann)

Next morning I get a voice mail from your office. Please call to schedule your next appointment with Dr. McCann

Me: (Calling office) I’ve already had it scheduled.

Erica: Doesn’t look like it’s here.

Me: I don’t want an intern. I want a proper doctor. I’ve been through hell and I won’t be juggled around at my age and based on the hell I’ve been through. I don’t feel safe.

Ericia: (Puts me on hold) ……………..Comes back, I think we can get you in with Dr. Delaney. Put’s me on hold again.

Me. Thank God.

Erica: Opps sorry, we can’t do Dr. Delaney and you only have a four hour window on mondays to see Dr. McCann. How about (states date)

Me: Crying now. What is going on? Why are you people making me lose my mind? (Shaking all the trauma coming back now)

Erica: Let’s just put this date down for Dr. McCann and see what we can do.

Me: Fine. Still crying. (My other line rings, it’s your office calling) Should I answer that? It’s your office calling.

Erica: Ok. Yea answer it. (big mistake)

Me: Hello?

Unknown Nurse: (A very cold and sterile voice on the phone says) I’m calling because that appointment you just made needs to be rescheduled.

Me: (FULL ON PANIC ATTACK NOW) I’ve just been on the phone with Erica and she and had just changed the appointment three times. What is going on?!!! Help. (Begin to really sob, tell her what’s ahppening and why are they making me lose my mind? She was silent.

Me: Hello? Are you there?

Nurse: Yes.

Me: You aren’t saying anything. I’m being blindfolded and turned around in circles and you say nothing. You work with mental patients. Don’t you have a kind word to say? Can’t you help me?

Nurse. What do you want me to say?

Me: You can at least acknowledge my suffering.

Nurse. I’m not going to apologize to someone who is lecturing me.

Me: Fuck off!

I felt like this was done on purpose and could not believe that medical profession that is suppose to care for me. Why am I having a sever panic attack trigger by my psychiatrists office. I SCREAMED ALONE IN MY APARTMENT I had heard this kind of suffering years ago when I woke up in restraints.

I’m shaking so bad writing this but I had to. I needed you to read this first before our appointment because I would not be able to keep calm. The last three weeks the memory of this last phone exchange everyday has caused me to take more anti pscyhoatics. For these weeks my Mother and advocate have checked on me everyday. It’s a shame when a Dr’s office is the one making you sick. I’m sure you are a nice man. You just needed to know what has happened to me. If this were a abusive relationship with a man or bad service from a business. I’d leave. I can’t leave, because I need help getting off these meds.

I want to end this 2 decades of suffering with psychiatry. Lucky I never attempted suicide.