Anxiety has morphed into terror

I am thrilled to find out that a friend of mine this is in a clinical psych grad program matched to Baylor College of Medicine. That is the same place that one of the suicidologists that I follow did his internship. In fact, I am reading on of his books right now, “Myths of Suicide”. I just started it as I couldn’t really get into Andrew Solomon’s “Far From The Tree”. I am on the second chapter and still have at least another forty or so pages to go to finish it. It is a long book, more than 900 pages. I kind of am planning on reading a Civil War battles book that has been collecting dust. I need to have two books going at the same time, one on suicide/depression and a history book on the other. A friend had given me a book on madness for my birthday/Christmas but I really can’t read that right now. I think I am headed for another psychotic break as the stress I have been under has been really bad. Between my book and my father’s health issues, my therapist says I should take a vacation. I just don’t know where I would go. I can’t afford a car and I don’t have a credit card to rent one. That would be my joy, to get back behind the wheel again and just go for a long drive some place like to the casinos or something. Or, to my family, I can always go into the hospital. But the hospital isn’t fun.

I finally got the courage to email my psychiatrist about some side effects I have been experiencing with the abilify. I have been having hypersecretion of the salivary glands. I have not drooled, but I am close to it at times. I just don’t know if it will get worse. It took almost a year of being on it to get this side effect. And I don’t think my blood pressure medication would cause this. I just don’t want to worry about cavities or anything like that. I don’t think it will but you never know. I just know my mouth is constantly watering like I am hungry but I am not. Between the increase in saliva and the rubber ball/elastic feeling, I say I should probably lower the dose or something, but if I do, and I have a psychotic break, then what? I have been on almost all the new drugs out there and I don’t think changing my meds right now in time will be a good idea. Only if I am in the hospital will that be possible and I want to stay in hospital to make sure I don’t have any weird side effects. I don’t want to start the medication, be on it for three days, then get discharged. That is not good care in my opinion. I know that is the way the hospital works but I don’t want to be one of those cases. If it was an antidepressant, than sure. I know that antidepressants take longer to work than antipsychotics. I just don’t need to play with my medication when my stress levels are already through the roof. And if I do need to mess with them, I rather be in the hospital to do it. I haven’t heard back from my pdoc yet. I just hope she isn’t in email jail. Lately I have noticed that her replies are a different domain than the one I am sending out.

Today I had at least two panic attacks. The first was while waiting for my PCP. My pulse was elevated and I had to explain that it was because I just walked between the buildings before she called me. Which is true. I just signed in after walking through the buildings and had not sat for more than a few minutes when they called my name. The second attack was while I was on the bus. It was an old style bus with stairs by the entrance. Lately stairs have been giving me anxiety. I am terrified that I am going to fall, even though I have not had any indication that I will. It has been a growing paranoia for me. I guess it is because I can’t trust my good foot anymore since I have been wobbly if I turn the wrong way. Now I am having slight chest pains that I can only attribute to the anxiety that I have been feeling the past few hours, even with taking an Ativan and some wine. And I think my doc would have picked up something when he listened to my chest today if I were having a heart attack, or the beginning of one. But my increase in my pulse he passed over as pain related. No one in my family has ever had a heart attack under the age of 40 and I don’t want to break that record. So add hypochondria to my diagnosis.

I really need to discuss the anxiety issue of the stairs with my therapist. I think talking about it will help. Sad part is that I know it is a real possibility with me because I have had two falls over the holidays. One going up and one going down. Some how the anxiety has morphed into terror. I know it is irrational. As long as I am not carrying boxes while going up or down stairs, I am ok. But even when I am not, I still panic. And I have two flights of stairs to go up when I go into my house and up to my room. I just have thoughts that I am going to miss a step and fall and get hurt really bad. Though at this point, I don’t know how much of it is a wish or a fear. I just hope I never do fall. I don’t need more problems than what I have.

Ramblings 66

I finally changed my sheets today. After weeks of procrastinating, I finally mustered enough energy to clear my bed off and change them. I am wicked tired now. Every time I do this, I just need a nap afterwards. It just takes so much energy. Then I thought I lost the pillow cases. I tore my room apart trying to find them but they were outside my room. DUH. I forgot I put them there so I would know where they were. You know what they say when you put things somewhere…you always forget where you put them.

I just hope that I don’t forget where I put my therapist’s letters. I spent a lot of time on these letters. I don’t remember what I wrote about but there are four letters. I really can’t wait for her to come back. A lot has happened since she has been gone.

My eyes are still having the focusing problem. I am hoping I still have my insurance in May when I see the eye specialist. If I am on another insurance, I don’t think I will be able to see him. I know the focusing problem is because I am wicked tired and I am trying to focus on my writing/typing. But I can’t always take a nap when this happens and I don’t think that it is because of my migraines because I am not sick or have a headache like my other eye doctor has explained to me. I rather see the neuro-ophthalmologist and have him give me an answer, if there is one. My luck all the tests will be negative and they will just chuck it up to migraine activity. I am not wearing my glasses so I know that is part of the problem. Sometimes the glasses make things worse so it’s iffy.

For those that are interested, tonight there is going to be an interesting chat on Twitter regarding self harm behavior. It’s from 9 pm CST to 10 pm CST and the hashtag is #SPSM and the handle is @SPSMChat. The SPSM stands for suicide prevention/social media. It is the twitter handle of the American Association of Suicidology. I can’t wait to learn to see what it is about.

too depressed to care

I am feeling overwhelmed. I have so much to do with my writing that I don’t know what I want to do first. Then I think that I should just leave it up to the editor to sort out for me. But the depression is clouding my thoughts and I can’t think straight. I keep thinking about death. I don’t know if I should call my psychiatrist or not. She’ll probably tell me to take an Ativan. I just don’t know what to do. I am not in crisis, I don’t plan on taking any action towards death but I keep thinking about it. I think I have taken on too much in my mind that I can’t sort out what I need to.

And I keep thinking about the short story that I am working on. It is about death and darkness. I like how it flows but it is too short to publish. How ironic is that? A short story that is too short. I picked up the manuscript for it today. I wanted to work on my book at Starbucks but I forgot my phone and I hate listening to the music at Starbucks. It can annoy me to the point of leaving the store.

I can’t stand this depression but I there is nothing I can do but wait until it passes. That is the hardest part of dealing with the depression, waiting. You want relief now but there is no knowing when it will pass. It makes me sick. It makes me tired. It makes me crave carbs. Somehow I lost three pounds and I hope it stays off but I bought donuts the other day. They are my comfort food. I will try to make them last but sometimes I use it as a meal substitute because I don’t know what I want to eat. Bad choice but when you have depression, you don’t care about these things. But I am mindful about my weight because I am seeing my PCP soon and he always harps on me about it. It’s like something you can fix overnight. NOT. It takes time to deal with weight issues. Time and patience, just like with the depression. But you quickly run out of patience with depression. You wonder if you will ever feel better. Everything is a hassle. Even taking a shower can drain the energy from you. I felt that the other day when I had to go out. I am bad with taking showers and other types of self care but the shower to me, has to be the worse because I can stink and my family will notice. My sister has a nose like a bloodhound. I am not kidding. She is very sensitive to odors and I try to avoid her when I haven’t showered in a few days. I try to keep up with the every other day but sometimes it can be up to four days before I shower. It just is so hard. It used to be because of my pain that I would fear the shower, now it is because I am too depressed to care.

I also hate losing interest in things. Things like going to my Starbucks or reading a book. I haven’t even journaled in days. Sure I write my blog, which is kind of my online journal, but I also write the private thoughts that shouldn’t be share with the internet in my journal. Or just write to keep track of things so I know what I did on a certain day. I have found that it is much easier looking things up in my journal than on my blog. Even though my blog has a search function, unless I know specifically what I am looking for, I can’t find it. I feel totally useless in this regard. And lately, I have begun to feel more useless. I feel like I don’t have a purpose anymore and it just compounds the feelings I have about death and not being anymore. But my book continues to give me hope that I will help at least one person and that I must see it through. Though I am terrified of the editor, I must admit. I think that is scaring me silly. Seeing my work full of red marks is not a pleasant thought, though I keep trying to tell myself it won’t be many. But then, I am not seeing my book through her eyes or anyone else’s.

I am so tired of dealing with depression. Even though what I am feeling is a mild depression, I can’t help but think I should just end it just so I don’t have to deal with it again. It’s like every episode you feel for the first time, and each time it just breaks your heart into a thousand pieces. You lose hope. You feel rejected by the world. You feel lost and helpless, like nothing is ever going to change. I keep thinking of Andrew Solomon’s TED talk where he describes in detail of how painful it is just to eat dinner. Though I do know the ordeal of things, I have never felt like that. My thoughts maybe slower and less agile, but I never felt like it was a painful experience just cooking a meal. I guess because my mother cooks most of the time, I just shovel it in without thinking of the process of cutting the food and chewing it. But I do know the ordeal of trying to get dressed. Of having to choose what to wear when you want to go out can be such a challenge. That is why most days I stay in my PJs. The only time I go out, is when I really want to or I have the energy for it. Like today. It wasn’t dreadful for me to go out of the house. I had a specific plan in mind and I followed through on it. If I didn’t forget my phone, I probably would still be out of the house. Then there is the other thing, the anxiety of leaving the house. I have grown so accustomed to my being in my room all the time that leaving it can cause me anxiety. And anxiety and depression just don’t mix. It can be a deadly combination. But as long as I have a specific agenda and follow through with that, I can survive the anxiety. For example, today I had to go to Staples to pick up my manuscript. I took the bus, went to Dunkin for a cup of tea, then went to the store to pick it up. I wanted to take the bus to Davis to sit at Starbucks and work on my manuscript but the anxiety of not having my phone caused me to just pick up the short story and head back home. I was too focused on not having my music that I had to go home. I was really too depressed to care about working on my manuscript even though I left the house. I can work on it from home but now I am too overwhelmed. Think I will just write my therapist a letter instead.

just the beginning

I did it. I made it to 3000 words on my short story that I am hoping to publish before my book. I have been working on it slowly as this depression just sucks. Words don’t flow the way they used to. Thinks are slower. My brain moves slower. When other people used to describe this, I thought thank god I don’t have that problem but now I do. I guess it’s because I am a writer that I notice it more? I don’t know. It is just so frustrating. It is literally like extracting teeth or something. I just find it awful to go through this.

I took the Remeron last night in the hopes of sleeping till eight. No such luck. I slept till six. And there was no way I was starting my day at six with my father’s doctor’s appointment at one. That would cause me too much anxiety. So I took some Ativan and slept till eight. I made my breakfast as I was starving and then went back to sleep for a couple of hours. I took a draining shower that sucked all the energy from me. I swear if I didn’t have to go out, I would have put my PJs back on and gone right to bed. I was completely worn out. JUST FROM TAKING A SHOWER!! I was really pissed. But I waited until I cooled off, then put some clothes on and caught the next bus. I went to Starbucks and had a latte. Then I got hungry so I got something to eat. I knew it would be awhile till I ate next. Went to the hospital early and waited for my father. The appointment went fast. There were no new developments, other than the abdominal fluids. But I was shocked to learn he still had cancer all this time. I thought the tumors were gone and he was cancer free. Not fucking so. I hate these doctors but they are the best in the field of GI cancers so I can’t really drop them.

Now I have the task of relaying all this information to my family members, immediate and not so immediate. I really don’t want to tell my cousin. She is a little hot headed but I know if I don’t tell her, the next time she sees me she might cause a scene. I don’t know what to do because I don’t know what she knows. I don’t want to say the C word if she doesn’t know my father had C to begin with. UGH I am so stressed out and this is just the beginning.

I am just exhausted. I am also anxious. I don’t have a great relationship with my father but I still care for him on a humanitarian level, otherwise I doubt I would care at all. Maybe one blog I will divulge the family secrets but not today. Dealing with him while he is sick is one thing I can’t stand to see as he has always been so healthy. He hasn’t been a health freak or anything of the nature but his genes has long lines. But I don’t want to lose him. I may think of him as a sperm donor at times, but he is still my father none the less.

I hope to talk to a blogger friend tonight. Our chats are really random but she makes me laugh and we forget about life for a while, which I think is good for both of us. I sure can use it tonight.