A Therapist Tells Me I'm Treatment Resistant

my first attempt at a cento

Photo by Egor Litvinov on Unsplash

I had never heard of a cento before and now I can’t even remember how I discovered this poetry form: “From the Latin word for “patchwork garment,” a cento is a literary work collaged entirely from other authors’ verses or passages.”

Lately, I’ve read poetry by Mary Oliver, Kim Addonizio, Louise Glück, and I started reading, Something in the Woods Loves You, by Jarod K Anderson. I knew I wanted to create a word collage from these writers but first I had to pick a topic. It wasn’t difficult.

Recently I had a conversation with my provider and therapist where we finally came to a conclusion that has already been obvious to me for decades: I am treatment resistant. Meaning, so far, no conventional treatment has been successful.

I’ve had extensive psychiatric evaluations throughout my life, but never an evaluation of the dozens of medications I’ve taken over decades, until a therapist introduced me to GeneSight which is supposed to tell you which psychiatric medications work for your genetics. You’ll get a red column (these not only do not work, they can make your condition worse), the yellow column (essentially neutral) and the green column, medications your body should be able to metabolize.

“Your GeneSight results are….interesting,” she said. “Your body just can’t metabolize these medications. Usually, it only takes more than three to consider a person treatment resistant,” she said, knowing I’ve tried dozens. Over 90% of first line SSRIs and mood stabilizers are in the red column, and so far, even those in the green haven’t had any significant affect.

My provider is incredibly kind. She assured me that this isn’t my fault, that anyone who tells me or has told me that I’m not trying hard enough doesn’t see how much effort I put into getting better. They don’t see how I show up for every appointment, how I take meds as prescribed, how I journal, how I use a CPTSD workbook, and how I continue to ask about unconventional treatments. My next step is IFS and TMS. Fingers crossed.

She added, “This is NOT your fault. You can’t help this. You have science on your side.”

My first thought was, “Oh my god, if I can’t find something that works, this will always be my life, how will I survive my life?”

But my next thought was, “Oh my god, I’m fifty-one and I’m still here. Not a goddamn medication has worked, but I’m still here. I might be living for other people and for my animals, but I’m still alive.” Then, I told my daughter, “I think that means that I am actually strong.”

So, when I went to write a cento, I searched for poetry that echoed that sentiment, to know there’s something you can never truly, escape, but to choose life anyway.

This following cento combines the work of Mary Oliver, Louise Glück, Emily Dickinson, Sylvia Plath, Aaron Smith, Jarod K. Anderson and Kim Addonizio.

I kind of hope you don’t relate, but if you do, you have me on your side.

A Therapist Tells Me I’m Treatment Resistant

This is me on drugs

prescribed by my doctor
as I try once more.

It’s Sunday all the time
and recess never comes.

I don’t know how to live my life,
but at least today I want to.

I’m not the only way 
the universe knows itself, 
I am a way and one day 
that way will be lost.

We live and then we don't.

I am aware of my heart: 
it opens and closes.

At the end of my suffering
there was a door.

I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me.
I didn't expect
to waken again.

Hope surely knows,
escape is useless.
Still, hope will try.