Can't handle anxiety/waiting for appointment/medication to work

I'm stuck in limbo and I can't deal with it.

Since I last posted/tried to post, I've been in and out of hospital a few times, the longest for seven weeks. It's impossible to believe that something as apparently 'simple' as anxiety could take so long to recover from. Not completely, even just to a vaguely normal level of functionality.

I have anxiety and depression; more or less of one or other on any given day. While I was in hospital they also checked me out for pibolar, but it's not that. They made it sound like that would be simpler to treat. Each of four anti-depressants over seven months hasn't worked out. Most in some kind of combo. One did help and gave me great mood, but also wild/strong akasthesia/ impossible to stop moving. Right now I'd trade that for how I feel on this current medication. Just a zombie. Still anxious. 'Anxious' doesn't do the feeling justice: I've felt scared or terrified for six months straight, with little relief except for extraordinarily intense exercise. Which I think makes people think I'm better than I am.

After six weeks in hospital they just kind of said that I'd been in a bit long for anxiety, and evidence shows that more than two weeks can be detrimental. I was ready to go home by then too, but for different reasons: I was utterly exhausted from the effects and side effects and pain in my soul of the rapid and intense medication changes, and desperate to go home to my kids and husband. I couldn't deal with another medication change then. I'm lucky hospital was so good: the staff, the ward and 'feel' of the place, even/especially most of the patients.

I want to be back there now. When they discharged me they said it would be to the care of the public community mental health team, but I knew that that team would fob me off because I have access to a private psychiatrist. The hospital said they'd ensure the referral would fix that. Of course that didn't last twenty seconds of questioning from the friendly cow who called, quizzed me, and sent a bureaubabble letter telling me to naff off. My private psychiatrist, who I have only seen once before, had no appointments for a month: coming up now this Wednesday. And I've had a couple of cries to my GP, but she stays on message to stay on the meds until I see the psych. And go to the ED if I'm not safe. I don't think we can name meds, but one helps temporarily, but I'm terrified of becoming hooked on it. Of course I've learned by now that you don't go to the ED for mental health on the weekend unless you just want to languish in a bed with little food and no prospect of seeing a specialist for at least a day.

I can't go to the ED (safely or otherwise) because if I get admitted to hospital it'll disrupt and hurt my husband and kids. And my psychiatrist won't see me if I'm an inpatient. I can't deal with either outcome that's likely from the psych on Wednesday (stay on these meds, change meds, or even go off meds which I otherwise kind of want to do.)

This time last year, I pretty much had to disclose my condition to my employer so that they would let me work from the office. And once I disclosed my anxiety, the people who knew about it suddenly found my 'performance' unsatisfactory, even though clients and others who didn't know about it said really good things about my work. It was straight-up discrimination and I thought I could just deal with the anxiety and do the work I needed to do to justify my contract extension, but they just hammered me and flouted laws and policies that should've stopped them leaving me unemployed. Standing up to them via the legal system is nearly more pain than it's worth. Nearly: it's such a lot of pain but I can't not hold them to account.

Waiting for this psych appointment is torture, and knowing that it'll be another month before another one puts so much pressure on that appointment to deal with everything, even though much of the time I can barely string a sentence together let alone digest the doctor's response enough to think ahead for days let alone weeks.

I just want to cry and run away into a hole.