This morning I remain awestruck at the kindness of so many people whom I do not know or only know from their posts on Twitter. I feel like my experience yesterday proves what Ms. Tangie at the partial hospitalization program I was in kept repeating over and over; that people are fundamentally good and decent. The outpouring of support from some whom could really not spare the extra monies made it possible for me to afford Latuda, the one medication that is like an off switch for my symptoms of depression. I awoke this morning with the feeling like a weight has been lifted off of my chest.
Yesterday I wrote about the importance of having hope while I felt my hope flagging. The support I got from my Twitter followers is the very reason why I am glad that I did not give up hope and that I reached out for help. I now know that when I once again have the means to help others that it will be incumbent on me to do so. For now, I will do what I can which is to promote tweets that I see where struggling people are asking for help. One day I will be able to offer money to these people and that gives me cause for hope.
I actually had some difficulty with sleep last night and I remember this symptom early on with Latuda. I know it goes away after two weeks and I know the medicine works because, despite the lack of sleep, I am cheerful and ready to go. I noticed that the self-care effort required seemed to be so much less. I made my bed, brushed my teeth, ate a small breakfast, drank some life giving water; everything a human needs to do for good mental health. It was even easier for me to sit down and write out this blog article.
I recall my doctor stating that she believed that Latuda works so well is because I was misdiagnosed as simply having Major Depressive Disorder. I do not fault the doctors for thinking this because I most likely presented with all outward, affected symptoms of this condition. I know from being autistic that there is a disconnect between my body language and what I am feeling. With the careful guidance from the partial program that I was in, I learned some better strategies for interpreting and verbalizing my emotions. I have the impression that this might have helped the psychiatric nurse practitioner in the program find a Latuda for me. My doctor now understands the difficulty that people with Autism Spectrum Disorder have in communicating the complex range of emotions and symptoms.
It is not easy for somebody in the depths of fighting their mental illness to also have to advocate for themselves. When I was in the depths of despair from the end of November through early January, I am certain I was crying for help but I did not really understand how to get the help I needed. By writing about my feelings and emotions, sharing with others, and listening to others, I began to learn things about myself that I was previously unable to verbalize. But for the kindness and bravery of people willing to share, I do not know where I would be today,