I haven't posted in almost a year. That is just WAY too long. I shy away from posting on this blog sometimes because it tends to evoke responses from people that are close to me, and I feel like I am hurting them when I write things down. But I starting to realize that it feels good to write things down, whether anyone reads them or not. And if you don't like reading the sometimes difficult things I share about my life or feelings here or mental illness here on this blog, please just don't read my blog. I have so much negativity in my head most days, I don't need to add to it by feeling guilty about stressing YOU out.
With that warning posted, here we go...
It has been a rough few weeks. I have gone through about 4 or 5 different meds in the past 3 months. Trazodone, Thiothixene, Thioridazine, Zyprexa, Ativan (Lorazepam), Prozac (Fluoxetine), Buspirone, Haloperidol, oh and benedryl to help me sleep supposedly - ok so maybe more than 5. Now we are down to two. Just the Prozac & Ativan. I was up to three meds twice a day at one point. It all came to blows two weeks ago this past Sunday. I had a breakdown, the scary kind, the kind where we had to call the hopital (well Keith did) and have them page Dr. P at home on a Sunday. Keith was crying, I was hysterical. It lasted an hour or more, and Keith was told if what Dr. P told him to have me take immediately didn't help within half an hour or so, that I would have to go to the Emergency Room. I don't remember much about that day, I just remember I kept asking Keith "Am I gonna die?" because it felt like I was going to. It truly did. I took what Dr. P said to take, but to be honest I don't think it helped, I simply think I finally wore myself out and collapsed. The next day I went to therapy and C faxed Dr. P a run-down of our session, which she kept as short as possible because I couldn't sit still to talk. I was a jittery mess. I couldn't focus, I was rambling when I did talk. It was just not a pretty sight. She sent the fax and came back to her office and sent me home. I probably should have gone to his office. C didn't think the state I was in was very condusive to sitting in his waiting room until he could see me, since I didn't have an appointment. I wasn't allowed to go home by myself, I had to go to my Mother-in-law's house because Keith wasn't at home. I called and Dr. P was with someone, so she said she would have him call me back - I waited, and what was probably not more than 15 minutes felt like 3 hours. I am always so nervous when talking to him to tell him something isn't working - I don't know why. But my MIL said I spoke clearly and told him what was going on and did very well. He asked if anything had helped over the past five years, and I told him in the beginning they all help. And then also told him that my MIL had given me an Ativan at lunch on Sunday - that is when the breakdown started in a dang restaurant. So he prescribed that for three times a day as needed and go back to my Prozac. That long story it just to show you how confusing and difficult medications can be. Yes medications help, but apparently I am very drug resistant. THAT SUCKS - yes I said SUCKS. I just want people to realize that mental illness isn't like going in and finding out you need blood pressure medicine and they increase or decrease a dosage. Some meds do the exact oppostite of what is intended - they make people crazy, at times suicidal. You feel like you are going to die, and you will never have a clear thought in your head again. It is the mystery of the brain and how it works, and apparently my brain doesn't feel like being open to the suggestions some of the meds make.
I haven't left the house in 4 days. Part of the reason is I wasn't feeling great last week, so I didn't go to water aerobics or church. Second, Keith's car broke down. He was driving to work, pulled in our neighborhood gas station, and it just stopped running while he was driving it. Our mechanic said that didn't sound good. So the car has been sitting at the gas station since Friday morning, and will hopefully get towed ASAP in the morning now that the holiday is over. So add all my icky thoughts and feelings, to general depression I feel most days to the fact that we may now be down to one car - not having a great week. I don't really care to go see the car get towed in the morning, but if I don't get out of this house soon I am going to burst.
It is 3:20am and I am not tired. I will sleep tomorrow, and that's fine, but that means I won't sleep tomorrow night. And that is how it goes most days. Also there is something about the night that makes me more comfortable. Daytime: too much going on. People driving up and down the street, people out in their yards, the mailman, yards being mowed, kids outside playing - I can't take all that activity - it is too much for me. It makes me so anxious I want to pull my hair out. At night I can do what I want and don't have to worry about having the windows open because I can't hear anything, because there is nothing to hear. I can have the lights off and no one thinks it is odd - it is night. I can sit in the dark and watch tv. I don't lay in bed and toss and turn and be afraid that I will wake Keith up all night long. The nighttime is safe.
Goodness I have rambled long enough for my first post in a year. That will catch you up on the crazy ride we call my life for now. It helps to write it all out, I just have to hit publish and not worry about what others will think. This is my life - this is real people, this is what mental illness looks like.