Thursday, 29 December 2011

Worrying Sucks

I'm not sure whats worse battling through your own demons, or worrying that your partner is on her way to battling her own.

I'm worried about Andrea. I'm worried, and have been for a while, that she is suffering but doesn't want to tell me because she still sees me as a depressed person. I don't know that I will ever be completely done with my dark passenger or done with this whole mental illness thing completely - I don't want her balling it all up inside because she is so worried about me, though I do understand her want to do just that.

Yesterday she told me she hated her life most days. My heart broke. Immediately I internalized this to "she hates her life with me" but then I realized what I was doing. I was over thinking it, and putting words in her mouth. There have been times when I have hated my life, but I never hated her, never hated being with her - it was life that was hard, not being with her. It was a nice revelation.

The effexor exhaustion is back with a vengeance. It's so overwhelming, and near impossible to fight. I hated it the first go around, this time I'm trying to be up front with people about it, and ask for help - and I hate every second of it. I asked Craig to drive home yesterday and felt like an utter failure the whole time, I hate that I am not as strong as thought I was or as I want to be.

Tuesday, 27 December 2011

Off and Angry

I don't even want to write today. I just am because I have nothing else to do at work. I'm so flipping angry this morning. It's not even extra energy, or doesn't feel like it - it just feels like built up aggression. I want to punch something.

Wiggers emailed me bac
k on Friday and 'compromised' with keeping me on the divalproex and adding effexor. I hated being on the effexor before - it had the most side effects of any of the medications I've tried. Yes, it worked the best for my depression, but it was so hard on me. If I was off in time taking my next dose the withdrawals would start almost immediately. Headache, weight gain, nausea, loss of libido, heightened anxiety, and what I deemed as effexor exhaustion - where if I sat for longer than 10 minutes I couldn't keep my eyes open.

Thus far I haven't experienced all of those, and maybe I won't, maybe it will be different this time around or when combined with the divalproex. I am trying to have hope - but still, its effexor. The only one worse than effexor for side effects was cymbalta, though lithium is pretty close too I guess.

Fuck medication sucks.

I drove an hour to work, worked for 3, and now have to drive an hour home. Such a pointless morning. Really could have used the money. *sigh* I gotta lift this mood before I get home, or do something when I get there to help myself. I have no ideas though, it just feels like its going to stick around.

Friday, 23 December 2011

Nothing Gold Can Stay

I'm so tired of being tired. Right now I am due to take my divalproex in 15 minutes, for the past 45, I have been trying so hard to stay awake and not fall asleep.

I honestly want some caffeine pills, or cortisol or something to keep this exhaustion at bay. It can't be fun to deal with me in the evening - the same thing happens then. It's furstrating on my end to want to be intimate with Andrea so desperately but then to be too tired to do it by the time we go to bed - I can't imagine how she feels having no control over the situation. And now it's become this thing, and I'm hyper aware of it so it's probably going to be worse.

I failed yesterday. I cut. Tiny one's. They so much don't count that I am disappointed in myself and almost want to try again to get it right. I'm resisting again today.

I had my DBT support group yesterday and was chastised for not taking my medication properly. *sigh* I mean I was supported but they were all shocked and wanted me to go get help or talk to someone. It's not like I haven't tried, wiggers is just away for a while. Until then, why can't I make my own decisions? I can deal with the tiredness a lot better than I could deal with the lack of feelings.

Other than that it went okay. We are going over interpersonal effectiveness and saying no and what not to people. I think that's a skill I need but it all feels silly and stupid and I have a hard time not thinking I'm above it - if I were though I wouldn't have been referred, I wouldn't be on medication, and I wouldn't have been hospitalized twice right? IDK..I'm trying.

At some point I am not sure trying will be good enough for myself or others any more.

I'm going to try not to stress. Not to stress about money, about Christmas, about stuff. I am going to try to be present with Andrea, and with the kids and just enjoy the holidays. They won't always be this little. They won't always stand in awe at Christmas lights that make music. They won't always be like this, and rather than focusing on all that needs to be done, or all the worry I need to try to enjoy it with them. Enjoying it with them also stresses me out.

Man I'm a nutcase.

Thursday, 22 December 2011

I almost feel sorry for what I'm gonna do

I tried again last night. And then I tried again. And then I tried one more time. Restarted. I get overwhelmed easily.

I will lie awake

The urge to cut is so overwhelming today. I'm really trying to resist. Trying that tactic of if I want to in five more minutes, if I want to in five more minutes. It's been working for about 3 hours. I leave in 45minutes...I just need to hold out that long.

If you let me have my way I swear I'll tell you apart

Its taxing on Andrea. She can't keep up. Hell, I can't keep up sometimes. She thinks it's coming back sometimes. I do too.

I'm scared of a lot of things right now.

Wednesday, 21 December 2011

Chemical Inbalance

I had a panic attack driving home yesterday. Craig was sleeping. The accident must have happened at a vulnerable time, plus getting pulled over last week or something but every time I get into a vehicle I immediately have flashes of what kind of accident I'll get into, or what injuries I'll sustain, or how will Andrea deal with everything if I'm injured or incapable, and the insurance we don't have, and how will we pay for everything. This morning, we couldn't, or I couldn't see out of the windshield clearly until Chemainus. Craig drove anyways - I sat with my eyes closed taking deep breaths. I don't know how I'm supposed to get over this anxiety over vehicles that I have now. I hate it.

I need to find a way to have more energy. I'm exhausted by 8:30a and then again by 8:30p. I have no energy or motivation for work, and no energy or motivation for the evening. I could hardly keep my eyes open last night and I had every intention of actually having a good night with Andrea. Maybe I'll look into some caffeine or energy pills. I'm clearly not against medication anymore lol.

Negative thoughts have started to come back, and the influx is a bit scary. I had forgotten how real they seemed and obviously underestimated how far I've come from that very dark place. I see the dark thoughts now and can recognize them, and can, for the most part, ignore them or reason with them or simply breathe through them, but what if they get stronger? Again, where is that line, how am I supposed to know?

I must also be stressed or anxious about something as I have resorted to some bad habits. I'm not cutting or anything, but I'm biting the inside of my mouth and compulsively picking at my nails. I used to do that with my nails all the time when I was younger - it was a coping mechanism, and at one point got so bad that my mom tried various methods to get me to stop - including painting my fingers with this disgusting coating so that they would feel and taste gross. It was humiliating - but I guess it worked. I don't know the source of that anxiety. I seem to bite my lip at work, and my nails at home.

*sigh* why can't I just be normal.

Tuesday, 20 December 2011

DBT, ECT, And Depression

I'm worried its coming back. I had a bad night last night. It was a flashback to all those nights that I put myself to bed early. Only this time, I didn't draw or knit; I wrote a quick entry in my journal and went to bed - alone and sad and scared for today.

What if it's coming back? What if I really need all that medication? I can't handle the person I was when I was on it, but I can't handle being that depressed again.

Maybe it was just a bad night. How will I know, what is considered too many bad days, I wish there was some sort of logical chart or table that had all these answers and steps to follow when things get rough. I'm worried I'll sink so low and the depression will make me not go on the medication, but I'm equally as worried that I'll go back needlessly just out of fear.

I went to that DBT support group last week, that's the emotional regulation one. Given that I wasn't able to feel emotions at that time it was pretty pointless. I felt out of place and like an extreme outcast. There was even a girl from high school there - which made me feel even more isolated. I felt like I didn't belong. I hate not fitting in, and yet I have no idea how to fit in.

It's all about recognizing triggers, and watching your own behaviour, and breathing, and picturing yourself in calmer settings. It's all about getting rid of the large overpowering emotions that tend to cloud everything else.

What about the smaller minute emotions that slowly eat away at you, that you don't even realize are there? What if the big emotions are so big that you can't breathe through them. I don't know - it doesn't feel like a good fit for me, but it's only been one session. I'll go for one module - that way someone else can take my place if I drop out. I'll keep trying, and keep giving it my 100%.

Over at bipolar knitter , she has been undergoing ECT and its very interesting to read her experiences. Reading others' trials through ECT has always been scary for me. They have either been overwhelmingly positive, or negative - and neither of those seem completely true or realistic. She paints what seems to be an accurate portrayal.

Maybe I need to be in the thick of a bad depression to warrant them though. I don't want to lose my memory and cognitive abilities if I don't need to. People have always liked me and valued me because of my intelligence, what if ECT were to diminish that? Sometimes my intelligence feels like all I have. What's the point in having a smart mind if I can't control the negative thoughts though? I don't know - like most things. It's still an option.

Wiggers gets back on the 28th - I doubt I'll hear from him right away, but hopefully soon.

Maybe I am getting better...?

Monday, 19 December 2011

Part of

I am back on the divalproex. There must be a reason I'm on the medication, and since wiggers is away until the 28th I've made the decision. I don't want to take the risk of going manic on the prozac, and the zyprexa was just creating too much havoc on my life. If I start to go manic, I need to take the zyprexa. I hope I can see this coming with enough foresight to take it. I'd take 10mg in the event of a manic episode - the same dosage they gave me when I went to the hospital on the seroquel mania.

It is beyond wonderful to feel feelings again. I've cried, I've laughed, I've loved. I have enjoyed sex, though I ended up frustrated at my inability to orgasm. It's nice to feel I have some semblance of normalcy back.

I get overwhelmed when it comes to things. I can handle mess. I can handle things. It takes effort but 7 times out of 10 I can do it - put those things together though and I simply can't. Our house still isn't completely settled and unpacked, there isn't a flow to it being cleaned yet (in the green house the person who did the kitchen swept the dining room, in my head it makes more sense now for the person who is doing toys to do the dining room) and that combined with Christmas chaos and stuff means I feel in a constant state of being overwhelmed.

Yesterday I tried to fight it by taking an ativan, and that just through me off for the whole night. I was off when we went to the trains, and don't really have memory of coming home, dealing with Kahlan, or laying with Squishy - but I fell asleep with her. Woke up, thought it was like 2am, went downstairs, everyone was still awake. I made my lunch..somehow...but didn't think to brush my teeth or clean the cat box. I went to bed, and I think I wrote something, and went to sleep. It was all very sad and very confusing.

I don't know what to do about my Christmas anxiety. I don't want it to turn into another depression, but I don't know how to calm it down.

Friday, 16 December 2011

Without

I haven't taken my medication since the evening of the 14th. I'm one and a half days without it. Nothing of note yet. I feel slightly more anxious or irritable but that could be lack of sleep, dehydration, Christmas stress - any number of things.

Point is - I was done having them make me feel the way that they were.

They have taken all the good that was left and reduced it to nothing. I have no sex drive, none at all. I used to crave orgasms, need them, now - It's like my libido is all gone. I hate it. Andrea suffers, I had honestly hoped that with all her moving stress she hadn't noticed how long its been...she has.

I don't act like I'm in a relationship with her, not because of overt act, but just because of my general attitude - which isn't on purpose. I don't know how to be in a relationship with someone right now.

I mean its been good in a sense. I got a speeding warning the other day, and I was the outcast at the kids' school yesterday but I didn't care. But without emotions...who am I? I know I am not my emotions, but at the same time - I feel nothing without them.

I know I'll end up back on them or something. I know I should email wiggers and tell him - but he has more pressing patients than myself. When I was really down had I known there was someone like me stealing his time, when he could have been answering my emails I would have been livid.

Maybe I needed the control. IDK..everything I've read speaks of the dangers of just stopping this medication. I know the risks. But it's my choice.

Tuesday, 13 December 2011

What it has taken

Mental illness has taken a lot from me. It has taken a lot from my family. But I didn't realize until yesterday just how much.

Andrea doesn't look at me anymore.

Well, she does, but not like she used to, and not every time she walks past me like we used to. We exist. She called us roommates. And I guess we are.

It has taken what was once untouchable, powerful, and indestructible - our relationship, and whittled it down to a barely recognizable state. I miss us. I guess I always had the thought that we would make it through everything, that nothing was a big deal. I had that much faith in us. I still have faith in us - but it's going to require a lot more fixing and a lot more effort than I originally thought.

It's a double edged sword in a way. A stronger relationship with her would help get me out of this, but being waist-deep in the thick of depression has strained our relationship so much it can't help it anymore.

Does she even look forward to me coming home anymore, save for the relief from the kids?
Does she even want to snuggle with me at night?

I still feel the same powerful feelings for her, but I guess like all things with me right now - they are muted and quieted as a result of my medication. I would do anything to make her happy, and I hope she sees that.

Lately though, I feel like nothing I do will ever be good enough. Nothing will be as good as her life could have been with the boys, in the green house, with Dave. That's a weight I will carry for a long time. It's my own burden, and my own doing. But I will not stop trying to be good enough.

My biggest fear is that she regrets it now.

Monday, 12 December 2011

Clothed and Covered

I've given up in terms of my weight. Before it used to depress me, but now, I just can't care. I've gained 50lbs in like 8 months. I'm already large. Wiggers says we will deal with it later, and I guess, emotionally I'll deal with it later - I've done enough crying and obsessing over it. This is my body, as it is, right now - and I have to accept that. Because of a myriad of reasons, the biggest being the medication, followed closely by the depression as well, I am overweight. I weigh more than I want, and more than I used to. It isn't forever - but it is for right now.

I also want to change my hair. I want to stand out. I want to feel different. When I was thin, my thinness got me noticed, but now..I've sunk to the pit of average and I just want people to acknowledge my existence. I fear being forgotten in a serious way. It's why I liked dreads (other than the not having to do my hair factor), people noticed me. Apparently, I need people to see me. I'm that much of an attention whore.

IDK..I guess I'm just feeling average. And that combined with the whole blahness of my emotions lately makes me crave excitement, crave life. I just want to to feel something yk?

Thursday, 8 December 2011

Where did it go

I have large chunks of my life missing from the last few months. I can watch an episode of Glee or House and not remember what happened the week before. I can't remember things - at all. How am I supposed to make decisions, how am I supposed to know who I am if I can't remember my own life? I simply can't recall things - like they didn't happen. This is what all this medication has done to me.

Mental illness has stolen my life, and medication has made me forget it.

I'm sick of this.

I was worried about the potential of ECT on my memory but if its happening anyways, without my knowledge, or without me expecting it than why not go extreme. Why not get my brain shocked and see if I can be done with this once and for all - at least for now anyways. I'm tired of medication.

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Not Me

I am not me anymore. I don't feel like me, I feel so not me..but at least I'm not suicidal or manic right?

I don't even know why I write anymore. I have nothing to say, and who cares anyways?

Maybe its the drugs, maybe I've given up, maybe I'm actually better. Who knows.

All I know is that I don't feel like me and I hate it

Monday, 5 December 2011

Blah

My meds changed again. I'm off the clonazepam, and on divalproex instead. Been on them for about a week now. I feel..blah. I don't really know how I'm feeling. I feel numb. I think its a partial shut down to be honest. The move took so much out of me. I was sadder than I ever thought I would be to leave that house, and have cried about leaving. Plus, physically, moving took everything out of me. I still don't know how I kept my body going. Mentally, I am overwhelmed with things that need to get done, and stress over money. So I think a part of me has shut down in order to keep going.

Andrea thinks maybe I have been so busy I haven't had time to be depressed - I like this theory - though it scares me. What happens when I'm not so busy..what if it comes back?

She also theorized that the panic feeling I feel sometimes, and it is panic, My heart hurts and races, is because I am stuck. This is very possible. We bought the house - so if something happens to us financially, or whatever we can't just move somewhere cheaper. We are stuck - and maybe that terrifies me. In fact, I know it does. I don't like this stuck feeling. Maybe that was a subconscious reason I didn't want to own a house ever.

I have felt some regret. Some thoughts of wishing we hadn't done this - but we have, and its done - and if this damn panic feeling would go away I'd feel better.

Moreover, if this blah feeling would go away I'd be more me. Andrea said I smiled like I used to a few days ago - it was wonderful to hear that. But at what cost? She has also said something seems up with me. I think its because I don't really feel like me. I mean I do, but I feel...blah. That really is the only word that exists to describe it. She is worried that something is up, but I smile like me sometimes..so..idk..maybe this is me..maybe this is the new normal..idk...

I feel lost again. Lost and blah.

And I'm becoming more mentally okay with taking medications..which makes me hate myself a little. I ever wanted it to become normal or the usual. I never wanted to get used to it. I wanted to always kind of hate it. But I don't..perhaps that's a sign they are working...idk..

I don't know much these days.

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Shit

I made it through an evening last night. I had a slight anxiety attack before we started watching something, had to keep myself busy - but dammit I was actually downstairs for a good period of time. I feel proud of myself for such a small accomplishment. When I get to bed I felt so frantic, My entry in my journal is so all over the place, and giant. I was so frantic and I don't know why.

Then we went to bed. Andrea was upset because of the moving - and I felt powerless to do anything because a) I cant do anything, we are moving.. and b) I was in my own personal heartburn hell courtesy of the medication or something. I get it within 10 minutes of swallowing those pills. So that kept her up. And either our room is dry, or something but I get all stuffed up at night lately so I have been snoring - and I know that keeps her up, plus her dealing with squishy at night..she slept awful. Not that I slept better - but its my own fault.

I'm thinking maybe I'll sleep on the couch or something until I get this whole heartburn and snoring thing under control - that way she just has to deal with squish.

Wiggers wants a phone consult with me today - I'm over it - and it hasn't happened yet.

Got into a car accident on my way to work. Sigh. I so emotionally can't handle this. Its yet another thing we have to deal with - and its my fault. All my fault. They don't seem to care, but I can't stop beating myself up over it. And I have to go home and face them later. I fell apart after it happened. Could not stop crying. The cops suggested it must be shock. I just think its everything on top of everything. I just can't hack it. I thought I was getting a handle on things. I've been trying to look at the bright side of things, to be more positive, or something - but it's not working. I know life, like knitting, is not out to get me - it's me doing it - but I don't seem to know how to av
oid these situations. I always seem to get myself into trouble and I don't know how to stop.

Moving stress. Sleeping stress. Vehicle Stress. Money stress.

And then there is thin girl at work, who is essentially the thin version of what I want to be. And I do feel like I'm in high school again. She has two kids and is like a size zero, and wheres the clothes I always wanted to wear. I tried to try today - to not hide - to wear something I wouldn't normally wear to work. Even put make up on - that all went to hell with the crying after my accident.

I feel unusually calm right now - outwardly. Inwardly I feel like I am on the verge of psychologically breaking.

Monday, 28 November 2011

At Home Anxiety

I feel like while I am at work I can control my environment. I can chose when and how I do something, and pretty much know what going to happen. There are no surprises. I can feel the anxiety within me, that is the social anxiety of being away from the comforts of my bed where I feel safest, but I feel able to manage it, Hold it in check. It's like it sits in a little ball in my gut just circling. I know its there, but because I can control so much here it never explodes, never rises. Well - for the most part it never rises.

Then add the change of environment to going home - a transition makes my anxiety worse. And at home, I can't control anything. So I survive for as long as I can, trying to keep my anxiety in check - and then when I could exert some control (IE when the kids go to bed), I have no energy. I cant make the decisions. I can't function. So I retreat to my bedroom, early every night, and write and think, and succumb to the numbing and sleep inducing aspects of my medication hoping that when Andrea comes to bed she isn't so mad as to not cuddle with me, and hoping that tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, I will have enough energy to function in the evening, and the anxiety wont be as bad as it was the day before.

And every day I wake up, and I try. And I feel okay. I know what to expect most mornings, and when I am surprised I can handle it - sometimes. But by about noon, every day, the anxiety about going home begins to grow. I like being at home, I like being with my family. I really like being in my bed - its so safe. But I can't stop the anxiety. And it literally hurts me, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I don't know how to stop the anxiety, and the anxiety feeds me depression, which feeds my anxiety...I just want to stay in bed forever, and it would if not for the overwhelming guilt I feel about it.

Sunday From Hell

Yesterday was right up there with one of the worst days I've had. I sat on my bed with pills in my hand - just wanting to end it. Wanting to stop hurting. I can't handle this anymore. Its too hard, and too long, and taking up so much of my energy that should be going to other avenues of my life.

I feel blah today. I look blah. I want some motivation.

I don't even know the point of this. To update I guess. I wrote Andrea like 8 different letters, and erased them all last night.

It didn't matter.

Nothing I say can make up for the fact that I'm a shitty partner right now.

Friday, 25 November 2011

Anxious

I'm anxious and nervous to hear back from wiggers. I don't know why. I want him to change something. Maybe I'm scared of being out here on my own. Maybe I want to go back until I feel okay to handle it. Maybe I want the zombie drugs so I don't have to feel. Maybe I need the talk support therapy to happen right now in order to help me. I really want him to change or do something. I'm not sure.

Maybe I'm expecting this to be easier than its going to be, maybe this is what it feels like and this is getting better. But the anxiety I feel right now doesn't feel right. The feeling of panic when being physically close to someone doesn't feel right. The urges to self harm don't feel right - but maybe it's all part of the process.

Maybe I really am going crazy...

Something Awry

Back on the meds now. Obviously.

Had motivation at work and was making sales - gone now.

I get panicked..not panicked..Idk..

Something about the stillness of the evenings, or the face to face intimacy with Andrea just...makes my heart start racing. I love kissing her; and I can still feel that overwhelming need to kiss her - but the intimacy, the close contact, the quietness in the evening. It just makes me..so overwhelmingly nervous and scared.

Its easier to be holed up in my room. I write in my journal, draw something quickly. Id like to be painting I think. But I always feel angry while I do it. I take my pills, last night took a tryptophan as well - and then just pass out with no effort of my own.

It feels like an escape.

Maybe I'm expecting to much or looking for the easy way out. Maybe I thought that when I felt better things would just get back to normal. I feel like I'm heading down a downward spiral right now. I feel lost, and not all together here.

But it's the evenings. Andrea doesn't seem happy, and is always worried about me - rightly so - and I always end up screwing things up. She is tired of sitting and knitting. I don't know what else to do.

I need to finish that sweater. It is an emotional burden to me now. Now the knitting of it - the knitting is easy, its the actual garment. I need it and Kahlan's to be done. Its like those two projects are so interlinked to the hospitalization period of my life that I cant help but feel dejected as I knit them.

Maybe Andrea and I can go to the coffee store and knit for a bit - give me some new memories or something. I don't know. I need them done.

I need to feel like me.

I feel like this isn't something that I'm going to get over, but rather need to find a way to manage, to have under control. And I don't know how to do that. Meds? Therapy? Time?

I feel so lost lately. And feeling lost while stressed is not a good combo for me. I'm heading down. Drowning again.

Just because I feel that way doesn't mean I want that closeness to stop, not having it all would be worse.

Sigh

Thursday, 24 November 2011

GingerKid

Ginger kid - a guy at my work, I like this name better than his actual name. Also suffers from bi-polar. I was talking with him this morning and he said from what it seemed that it appeared that my relationships with those closest to me are causing me more stress than the disorder itself is. I can never make the disorder go away, but I can find balance in my relationship.

I wonder if there is a support group for those whose family members or partners have bipolar or some other mental disorder. I think Andrea would benefit from it, and maybe in the long run our relationship would.

On top of taking an ativan before I went home last night, I also took one in the evening - to try and have a good night. I managed some semblance of normal for a while. But I feel so..not watched..but still..I don't know..like I am the cause of the problems in the home. I know I am. I know its been my issues over the last year that have dramatically changed my relationship with Andrea - but when I am feeling relatively normal, it still doesn't make those problems of the last year go away. Things aren't going to snap and get better between us. But I don't know what we do. How do we take advantage of my better-ness? How do we talk about difficult things without worrying that it will send me spiraling again.

Being bad was almost easier, we knew what to expect, now we are trying to create a whole new normal - and I suppose that will take time.

Still don't like how the meds make me feel. I can't wake up. I can't even process what time it is when my kid comes into bed, or when I have to get out of bed. I've been up now for 3 hours, and I'm still stuck in going back to sleep mode.

Prozac seems to make me more artsy. I have felt the need to paint for the past two nights. In the new house I want a place for me to paint that isnt away from everyone. I'd like to be able to paint in the evenings but still be with Andrea, still watch house or Glee. IDK...Balance...more balance.

I hate the way the drugs make me feel!

Wednesday, 23 November 2011

The Other Side

I feel like I am on the other side. Like I've made a breakthrough of sorts. I'm feeling more like myself.

I did take my meds last night - had talked to wiggers all day, and we came up with something for me to try. I don't want to slip back to either of the places I was before.

I had a rough night though. Or evening. It all started because I started hating the way that I look. I've gained 45lbs in 7 months. I am now back to a place I NEVER EVER WANTED to be. Its disgusting, and makes me want to starve myself tbh. Then it continued with a parenting discussion. This time, I was the bad guy - we seem to take turns.

Its hard not baby squish, when she is growing up without me there. Im not there to watch her vocabulary grow, I dont witness all the things mom's normally do. Plus. I have been absent as a parent for the better part of a year. Its no excuse. And I dont do it out of guilt - its about not knowing *how* to parent who she is now. So I have to force myself to accept that my baby isn't a baby anymore. And that's hard to do - even for non depressed moms who see their kids all the time and are present with them.

So I was done. Went upstairs to go to bed. Took my pills. Wrote in my book. Poked holes in my leg because I needed some form of release. And went to sleep in my clothes without having brushed my teeth.

But hey - at least I showered yesterday.

I'm trying to remember that how I felt yesterday, and how I have felt for the majority of the day IS an improvement. And that though its hard to wake up again and I dont feel rested the pills are worth it. I'm trying.

And yet..even when I try, I still feel that its not good enough.

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

Day 2

Still didn't take my meds. Conscious choice last night. Andrea doesn't have it in her to fight one way or the other. I feel awful for her - but this isn't her battle - she is just the victim of my choices.

I feel good still today. I woke up again. Actually woke up and was awake, I felt rested. My dreams have returned to normal. Maybe meds aren't for me. Maybe I was never that bad. Maybe it was a phase or a moment and now it has a passed and the meds keep making it worse. I don't know. Part of me knows I should take them, but what's the motivation when I feel near human without them?

Short term memory still a big problem. It's weird. I don't realize how bad it is until I try to think of something I know I should remember. We sat and knit last night, I can't remember what we watched. I went out to get something from the store - I know I got cookies because I just ate one, but that wasn't why I went - I don't remember what I got. It's very frustrating.

What else am I forgetting?

What part of me is left?

Monday, 21 November 2011

Better Without

I'm having memory loss issues lately. And I hate it. I hate not being able to remember simple things. I don't know whats doing it...either the depression, or the meds, or bi-polar or some combination of something.

I didn't take my meds last night. I dont know why. No real issue. I gave Andrea a nice back rub, and then we just kind of fell asleep. Or at least I think we did - I can't remember what happened after I finished. But I woke up feeling like I had had the best sleep I have ever had. It was glorious - and today I feel wonderful.

At least I think I do. Right now I don't feel motivated to work, and kind of just want to go home. But I feel relatively normal. Its nice to feel normal. Not taking the drugs makes me feel normal. Ken tell me it wont last.

But really, maybe I never needed meds in the first place? Maybe I was just kind of depressed and the meds kept making it worse. I don't really know. All I know is I didn't take them last night I don't feel suicidal or manic today at all.

Friday, 18 November 2011

Unsettled

My insides are quivering...its hard to explain. Its like my internal self is shaking and I don't know why. Wiggers upped my prozac to 20mg yesterday. Maybe its that - I don't know.

I'm hoping he isn't doing the prozac test on me - you know where they give you prozac to see if you have a manic episode - that pretty much gaurantees you are bi-polar. I don't care if I am bi-polar, well I do, but I don't want to be thrown back into a manic state just to find out for sure. Neither myself nor Andrea nor my family can handle another episode. I need to keep it together for a little while.

The internal shaking has no turned external ish (I started writing this and then left for about 5 hours). Is this how normal feels? Am I just happy? I mean, I found out my job might sponsor my schooling - which is awesome. And I haven't been freezing cold all day today. I am hungry but whatevs. Or is this the beginning of mania? Why would I be manic though? My Prozac *just* went up. But my legs are bouncing up and down, not being able to sit still.

I'm sure this is all in my head. This is how happy feels. This is how normal feels. This is how I should feel all the time.

I guess the real test will be if I stay happy or whatever when I go home....

Thursday, 17 November 2011

Cause Fucking Up Takes Practice and I feel Im Well Rehearsed

I made a mistake - but I didn't know it was a mistake at the time. Even now I'm a little bit unsure. I know I hurt her, I know she is upset. I cant blame my mania - but I know that's why it started.

I went manic, and in looking at my history I tend to crave attention from Men while manic - wiggers thinks this kind of explains my sluttiness and what not when I was younger. I went manic, knew that Tom had interest in me, and I exploited that for attention. Nothing more than flirting, I do like the guy - I do consider him a friend, he isn't ugly; but not in 100 years would I ever want to do anything with him. But I flirted with him, and he did back. I thought I had told Andrea about all of it 0- I guess I wasn't clear enough, and in that regard I guess it was dishonest. But it wasn't done on purpose. I thought she liked that all the guys in the warehouse liked me. I thought she liked the fact that though they wanted me, she *had* me. Maybe she did, but I guess she didn't know the extent..Idk. I feel awful because it really was just a game. To be honest, if my mania lasted any longer it may have gone farther, and that thought - even then - scared me. Which is why I told Ken about all of it so he would 'keep watch' at work so to speak. IDK..Nothing and no one is more important than her.

Then there is the smoking thing. Yes I still smoke - when I'm stressed. I thought I had told her that. I've never lied about it. No I didn't tell her every time I had one - am I supposed to? Idk. Maybe I don't know to what degree we tell each other things. I didn't think I was being dishonest. When she asked, I told her. I didn't intentionally change my clothes, wash my hands or anything to try to hide when I had one. I wasn't trying to hide anything.

I feel caught off guard, and I guess she does too. I'm trying not to make this about me because it isn't. She is the one upset. My mania caused the issue with Tom, and I was the one who did it. Its not my fault, but it is my responsibility. I'm now trying to not let my depression consume me with thoughts of our relationship ending, even though I fear that's a strong possibility. I'm trying to remain afloat, to keep control.

I have no idea how I am supposed to go home and not be awkward. She wouldn't even kiss me. I don't blame her. But I have no idea her thought patterns. I'm scared. I always jump to the worst conclusions. I'm trying to remain calm, and not break down and cry - though I've done that already too. I wait. As with every other time I have screwed up with her, I wait. I've screwed up a lot..I didn't realize that until right now...MJ, yelling at the kids, Joel, my drug relapse, taking my anger out on her, tom and the smoking thing...whats going to be too much..Eventually I'm going to push her over the edge. It's really my own doing...and I fall farther down the rabbit hole.

I want us to be men. I want us to fight and punch each other and then be fine. But I know it wont be like that - I have no idea how its going to be, and that fact scares me more than a little bit.

Fail

I had it all planned. I was so excited. I though I could actually do it. I went home early, made muffins, played with the kids. Had dinner - and then something happened after dinner and I crashed. Hard.

I so wanted us to go out for drinks, and to fabricland - it would have been fun. It would have been good for us. Instead, I was balled up in my little emotional cocoon of depression, and I couldn't get out. I feel bad for her. I feel bad for me. I don't know how to stop these things from happening, or how to get out of them when they do.

All I wanted was one anniversary of something that I was happy for. Most holidays are filled with stress, and birthdays don't agree with me - this was my chance to actually have an important day not be filled with bad memories. They day only happens once, why couldn't I hold off.

I feel like a complete failure. I've let myself down. Today started too early, and I am still all drowsy from the meds. Plus its cold in here - How do I stop the bad mood today.

I'm so unbelievably tired of this.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Choices

"You and I decided to try to keep you life as normal as possible with a short hospital stay and back to work again. If that is too much, we could look at a longer stay up to 3 weeks to really give you a recovery period.

I emailed wiggers this morning just to give him an update on how I was feeling. Now that my mania has subsided, I'm back to being depressed. So much for normal eh? But I've been off meds that are supposed regulate the depression for a week now - just started back on them today. So it makes sense that its back. I guess I had been hoping for a reprieve of sorts? IDK..

I can see it draining on Andrea - greatly. I can feel it draining on me. Not feeling good enough. Like I'm not trying hard enough, or am enough. Wiggers and I had discussed me staying longer until I'm more under control. But we need the money my income brings. I don't actually want to be away from everyone. But with a few minor exceptions I feel I'm doing more harm than good by staying.

I don't want to go back either. I don't want to fit in. So what do I do. Am I crazy enough to say I need to go back? Should I check myself back in? Should I give myself another 5 days on Prozac and see if that works? If not, then what. We're moving. Can I wait until after we move?

I don't know what to do. I have no idea where the best place is for me. I just want to get better, and want Andrea to not feel so stressed, or give me those looks she gave me last night. I miss her. I miss her so terribly. I ache for us.

Plus most of my stressors come from home, so how can I deal with them while I'm away. IDK..Im so confused. I so wish this wasn't my life.

Mistakes

Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe I should have stayed in the pysch ward. At least there we weren't fighting. We just missed each other terribly instead. It's easier to miss someone and feel overwhelmingly in love with someone, than it is to feel like you are constantly on edge. I know it's my fault. I take all my anger or anything or on her, or maybe because she knows me better she sees it more and thinks its directed at her.

Either way, tomorrow marks our two year anniversary - I am petrified we will be angry all day.

I miss the way things used to be, and while they don't have to be like that again - I just wish I wasn't so unstable all of the time. Maybe the pysch ward is best...

Monday, 14 November 2011

What I didn't know is I was Killing you

I heard this song three times the day I was held at the psychiatric unit. It's now associated with it. Slightly Fitting. I guess.

I complain
When nothing's even wrong
And you're ashamed
Cause you're not quite that strong


That's when I said I'll need
More than you can offer me
I miss your face as you can tell
I hope my absence makes you well

Cause what I didn't know
Is I was killing you
I said a lot of things that I didn't mean to

But I am older now
And I am sorry too
So I can wait awhile
If it brings me back to you

I am shy
I never speak a word
And you are numb
From all the things you never heard

That's when I said I'll need
More than you can offer me
But now I own an empty space
And I can't fill it with your face

Cause what I didn't know
Is I was killing you
I said a lot of things that I didn't mean to
But I am older now
And I believe in you
So I can wait awhile
If it brings me back to you

Saw wiggers this morning. Was glad to see me better. I didn't confront him about the lie or miscommunication - what good would it have done. He put me on a combination of Prozac and the olanzapine. The former for depression the latter for mania.

When did my life get so regulated with pills.

I also take ativan 2-3 times a day..for a little while - until Im less crazy. So maybe all these pills will help. I need to help myself. I'm hoping that support group can offer me some insight. Wiggers is unsure of that - but it's worth a try.

I dont know how to put me first. In my head it makes PERFECT CLEAR SENSE to try and do all the things I am capable of doing to make sure those I love, who chose to be with me, are happy. I will sacrifice myself for Andrea because she can chose to leave. I will sacrifice myself for my kids; Im a mom and its what you do. I will even sacrifice myself for my acquaintances..

Why am I any more deserving of being happy if I can prevent their unhappiness? Isn't it selfish to see others in anger or sadness if I can do something about it?

Apparently though, everyone suffers when I'm not happy...so If I want them to be happy, I need to be happy..its all so confusing.

Where did I learn that my happiness comes last?

Sunday, 13 November 2011

If I...

If I never told Wiggers about my actions with a belt..
If only I hadn't told Ken that wiggers wanted to see me..
If only I hadn't told Andrea about...
If I hadn't have gone to that appointment on Friday I wouldn't have been issued two Pink Slips which means they can hold me "involuntarily" for 30 days. I am on a weekend pass right now.

I spend my Saturday afternoon/evening going in between feeling elated over being home, to crashing after the kids let my emotional crap out of the bag, and if only I had been able to knit properly..If only..If only..

But two night I spent there - didn't see the kids. Only talked to Andrea, saw her a couple of times too. I painted with the crazies, talked to whoever would listen, knit, and read and tried to survive. I wasn't allowed to keep my knitting or my phone with me. My whereabouts were checked every hour, and meds dished out at the desk..just like at my mom's work. It was a long 48hrs. I've written extensively in my paper journal about my experiences. To sum up though...

I felt out of place, but comfortable. If not for the nagging and aching pain to go home it isnt that bad. But I missed my family - all of them. They were all quite welcoming, and asked a lot of questions - that I still dont like to answer.

For now..I am on that weekend pass. Not discharged yet. I go back monday..who knows what will happen then.

The olanzapine I was switched to only really deals with the mania...but what about the rage, or depression that creep in at times. I guess thats my job...I guess thats what I need to learn to handle.

I HAVE NO SKILLS OR TOOLS to deal with that.

I'm lost - again and still.

Thursday, 10 November 2011

The End is Near

Im so fucking angry. I just broke glass at work because Tom said I could. Breaking glass is fun - cathartic...but not cathartic enough.

Wiggers wants to see me.

In trying to be honest with him I admitted to doing something thats not stupid in my eyes, actually quite smart, but he deemed it dangerous, very dangerous in fact.

Depression made everyone unhappy. Mania is apparently dangerous. And those are the only two I can seem to muster up.

Breaking point draws closer.

Here we Go again



This is what I did last night. 17.7km in just under 3hours. Andrea had gone to bed, and I felt like Craig was watching me. So I walked. There were a lot less healthy options available to me. Came back home, and my body was tired - but my brain was not - but I did manage a few hours of sleep before Remy came into the bed.

I woke up still feeling manic, still kind of crazy - but also with the after affects of being so angry. I also crashed a few times on my walk and cried for a bit.

I miss being happy, purely happy, but my life is what is is.

I broke two of my paintings - they weren't real anymore, they weren't true.

I'm working over time today. Need to do something. Need to stay busy. Dont want the crash that I know is coming.

Woke up without drowsiness and dizziness again today. So awesome. Its a lie though, and I know it.

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Mania

Holy Mania Batman!

About 30 minutes or so after I took an ativan it was like I switched into a manic episode. It continues now. I can't fucking sit still, can't concentrate. My mind is like in 8 different directions. I cant calm the fuck down.

I think I got like 4 hours of sleep last night. I laid there off and on, sleeping - not sleeping, just laying. Not thinking, just not sleeping. It wasn't bad like it used to be - no suicidal thoughts.

Fuck was it nice to wake up this morning and actually be able to wake up. No drowsiness, no dizziness..I just woke up. It was fucking awesome. I didn't wake up cranky or aggravated or down like I normally do. I even had a shower and wore nice clothes, make up and all. I even put a bra on again today. Its amazing to feel alive. SO fucking alive.

I's aware this is mania. I'm aware it isn't going to last. I'm aware I'm going to crash. I'm aware that my illusions of being better than most things aren't true. I'm aware of it all. Thing is - I don't give a fucking shit right now. Its nice to feel happy, and bubbly, and full of energy. Dave even commented on it at work - that I seem so happy. No one ever tells me how happy I look. I miss being happy - and I'm fucking going to soak up all of this until I crash.

I'm entitled to feel good.

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Control

I didn't want to take it. I wanted to pretend to take it. To store them up. No actual plan or anything. Just to rebel, to act out, to have control. The next 6 months of my life are on these pills and I have no control over them. Its hard. Its hard to give up that much control. Control of my happiness, my stability, my mood - all in the hands of Andrea who gives the little white pills. I'm not blaming or mad at Andrea - I've asked her to do this, as has Wiggers, and it needs to be done for my safety. I still don't trust me and my depression or my addiction - its just hard.

I can also get diet pills, if I gain like 5 more pounds, its tempting to just gain the weight so that I can get them and lose the weight that I've gained in the last like 6 months. I miss my smaller clothes. I don't even need to be 110, I just want to fit nicely in my 28's and where the clothes I used to wear. I just want to feel a little bit good about my body and being in the 140's as I am now is just disheartening. Evidently, I'm okay with cheating my weight down.

I'm still craving to find something for me, something that fills my cup. I think that's why I've thrown myself to into cheap reno's for the house - I know its something I can do. I'm excited to make it our own - make it our home.

I waiver on the kids' school. I so want to be involved. I know how cliquey and community private schools are - and they require a lot of effort. I know Andrea doesn't have the energy to do it all, and I want to. But I don't know how to and not feel like crap about myself. In order for our kids to have the best private school education the parents have to be involved, and it will be easier for all involved when we live there - but I don't know how to get over my own insecurities. And there are many; from relationships, to distance, to values, to involvement - I have a tonne.

Now that I'm padded from suicide, I need to start working on my personal issues. Break them down one by one - and I have no idea where to start or how to do it on my own. Its like I'm no longer drowning, but there is no one coming to my rescue - its just me and my life jacket keeping me afloat. Eventually my life jacket will fail or disintegrate. I need to learn how to swim.

Monday, 7 November 2011

Burn and Crash

Yesterday I did what I never thought I'd do. Or at least what I hoped I wouldn't. I had an overpowering need to find my pills. To find the seroquel and ativan and either take them or simply hold the knowledge of where they were. I needed to know. I searched the entire area where I thought they were hidden - feeling more desperate and angry by the second. I didn't find them. I felt more disappointed in myself then words can describe. Disappointed for not finding them, and disappointed for wanting to find them in the first place.

And then this morning I was completely reminded of why it is I hate seroquel. I tried to be slow to get out of bed. I sat on Remy's bed for a while. I took my time - and still when I came downstairs I was so dizzy and nauseous and nearly blacked out. It was tense and shaky and it sucked. I hate what this med does to me. Even now I still feel a little unsteady a little off. Maybe it was so bad this morning because I took it late. Its either I lose an evening because I cant stay awake or I feel like complete shit the next morning. Where is the middle ground?

One of my fears in my really down moments was that when and if I ever felt better than I would realize that I was really fighting for nothing, and that nothing had changed. I have felt better, over all I guess, the last couple of days - but I am left with that feeling of what has changed? Really, nothing has. I still feel like I have nothing. Like nothing is mine. That I'm not working for anything for me. I still wonder what all the fighting is for. What's in it for me? This feeling scares me. I wanted so badly to feel better, and when I do have moments it doesn't seem entirely worth it.

I feel really low today. Really off. Really done. I feel like shit, I look like shit - I even intended to wear a bra today, and makeup just to try to make myself feel a little better about myself. But the shirt didn't look right even with a bra - it looks fantastic on Andrea though, really can't wear it anymore. My cover-up was gone - thanks Remy, so no makeup, and my hair is in a half dishevelled pony tail with a blue spot on my head from the dye. I look and feel like a hot mess and that doesn't help my mood.

I go see wiggers today, and Ill tell him that I *do* feel better. But at what cost? I still don't feel like me. I still feel far away. Still feel padded. But still feel down. IDK...it is an improvement.

Its taking so much effort.

Sunday, 6 November 2011

Something Kinda Normal Fell Apart

Yesterday was apparently a success! I only hid upstairs once, only took one ativan, and only cried 4 times...that's a success for me now. Yay! It's so stupid. This whole thing is so stupid.

Today I woke up, and could not make myself get out of bed. I didn't even feel that tired anymore but I couldn't actually care to get out of bed. So I laid there, hid under my blankets and listened to Andrea parent - and felt more and more guilty as time went on. Even after my extended break I couldn't handle life. The house is in a constant state of chaos and mess and I can't do it. I can't be present with all the kids, can't clean all the messes - yet if I sit and do nothing than all I feel is anger, rage, and eventually overwhelming depression. I almost got there this morning..

And then I cleaned. And I attemped to saw a tire - and I got myself through it - yay, but in doing so I made Andrea cranky or whatever with me. And then we briefly talked about Christmas and I was something and irritated. And its all just stupid.

I just want to quit. I want to run away and be done. I am not even so depressed that I am crying all the time. But...I still do hate myself, even when I try to give myself permission to not. I still dont wan't to leave the bedroom ever. I still wish I could cease to exist and not have to deal with any of this. But I'm still here. Still hiding. Still suriving.

And this is better...

Friday, 4 November 2011

Envy

I look around and I see so many people that have things that I want. Maybe that's why I'm depressed and can't get over it. I am not happy with what I have - so I just keep beating myself up over it. I could be better at some things, I could be thinner, I could be more motivated, I could be, I could be, I could be. I have all of these things that I know I *could be* if only I could make myself do them, try them, or learn them. But I don't - because I lack motivation. The lack of motivation causes me to not do them, which causes me to feel worse, which causes even less motivation. How do I break the cycle?

I have my seroquel in my bag. All of them. It's a nice and scary feeling of control and power.

I sit at work not caring about it, thinking of all the things I'd actually like to do tonight - looking forward to them in a way even...and yet I know, I know, the second I get home (or within 30 minutes) I'm going to be done, I'm not going to be able to handle it - and that will be the end of my evening and I will do none of those things.

I so want to finish the sweater that is now for Remy - even though it doesnt suit her in the slightest, and will not be getting ruffles. I so want to do a work out, thrash my way through it, be sweaty and tired, but feel amazing. I so want to start another sweater for Kahlan, another big project - something not finicky. I so want to sit and watch something and look forward to not working the weekend.

None of those things will happen. I will end up crying, end up contemplating killing myself, and probably go to bed early again. The jury is still out on whether I'll get out of bed tomorrow.

I hate wanting something so badly - but knowing it isn't going to happen.

I'm still waiting on that turning point. I still keep trying again - though its taking more and more effort to do so.

I want to live on Ativan.

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Today - Redux

It takes me until about 2:00p to come out of some sort of fog. The type of feeling where I'm but a small part of myself. Even after the fog clears I still feel slightly unsteady walking, still slightly far away, still not quite all here. Of all the meds though, this one seems to be the most outwardly effective. I don't cry like I used to, I'm not down like I used to be.

But...

That's only external. The suicidal thoughts are still there. They feel less impulsive. More like I am able to actually make a plan and carry it out instead of acting on a whim. The thoughts make more logical sense. I still can't actually write down the ones I had last night - they are too terrible to actually put somewhere where someone, someday, could read them. I know what they are - and that's bad enough.

I feel more normal I guess. In the sense that my negativity and downness is normal - it simply is what it is and this is my life. That is depressing. Maybe I need to fight harder?

I'm scared to go home. I almost want to take a preventative atavan. Just to pre-numb myself, just to enjoy one night without getting stressed or overwhelmed. Enjoy my family - be happy - even if its fake and even if it will wear off. If I had access to them I would take them, but how can I ask Andrea to medicate me when I don't need it. I just want to because I don't want to risk feeling bad. I think that's a legitimate fear.

I actually had a moment last night where I woke up - obviously half asleep and still quite intoxicated from the seroquel - where I rolled over and saw Andrea and got this overwhelming thankful feeling. I was elated, or as elated as one can be in that state that she was there. I remember wanting to reach out and touch her and thank her for being there. I was honestly surprised, and I don't know why, that she was there. It was such a sense of euphoria. I hope I actually did reach out for her, and tell her I was happy she was there.

I need to make this all up to her somehow. Need to make it up to the kids. I guess I need to make it up to myself as well - but I'm at the bottom of my list and that's half the battle.

Scared of Myself

I am scared of myself, and my own thoughts. I am scared of what they mean. I am scared I will never recover from how they make me feel. I am scared I will never get better at all.

Seroquel puts me in a weird far away padded like state. I don't feel connected to my body or my head. I feel internally overwhelmed and externally numb.

I thought the hospital and slow integration would be enough - but I am scared I have just fallen further down the rabbit hole.

She is only happy sometimes. She isn't sure we will ever get our life back.

I am scared.

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

Back at Work

I feel so off and awful today. I want to stay in bed. I am angry. I am cranky. I want to quit my job. I want to quit life.

Craig and Andrea talk about me behind my back. More to the point Craig is afraid to talk to me so he brings all his concerns or whatever to Andrea who then relays them in the nicest way she knows how, to me. So craig will never say anything - and Andrea is forced to. So I end up feeling irritated at the both of them.

On top of that, they have hired two new people at work, and with my work level already suffering because of my depression I feel its only a matter of time before I get fired - so much for that raise. Whats the point?

My insides are all quivery, and things just don't feel right in my body. I can't explain it in a way that makes sense. Maybe that's how seroquel is supposed to make me feel. I still feel feelings though - I've already cried.

To show them, or something - I really dont know what, I used the little knife that I had to ask for permission to use to cut my leg. It was a crappy cut and it took a long time because those fuckers aren't that sharp - and they will never know, but I had to do it. Had to exert some control.

Maybe that's my depression, and it probably is, but idk - I had to do it.

I feel like everyone thinks I'm not capable of anything. And maybe I'm not. Maybe I need someone to tell me what I can and cant do for a little while - but then they need to tell me that instead of just acting that way.

This is all just stupid. I feel less like me than I have in a very long time, I'm not anywhere near as suicidal as I was - or at least not as sadly suicidal as I was, but I don't feel like me at all. And maybe that's why I'm angry. Because the me that exists somewhere is screaming to get out but just cant.

I miss me.

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Things Taken Away

So before I left the hospital my psychiatrist told Andrea to "proof" the house from me. I figured she would take away the scissors I use to cut, but hope that she wouldnt - she did. I know why she did - it makes sense.

I went to go make the kids lunch today and there were no knives. I'm actually not allowed access to utensils to cook my own kids food. I am not mad at her. At all. I know why she did and it. And its smart that she did - becuase I have used each of those knives to cut, and have determined that none of them are sharp enough to slit my wrists - but it still sucks to know that I am not mentally stable enough to even be allowed access to common items needed to prepare my own children food.

Whats worse is Craig knew about it too. In fact they had this whole exchange; the awkward silence of they both knew where they were, and knew that I hadn't yet realized they were missing because of me. I feel both embarrassed for not knowing they were taken away for my sake, and ashamed because they have to be taken away for my sake.

What has my life become? So many things have been taken away from me. I have very little left to lose.

The double dose of seroquel didn't make me drowsy. I felt a little heavy headed - but nothing like I was expecting. I go up to 150mg tonight. Im not worried - I'm just done.

Monday, 31 October 2011

No Headway

Yesterday didn't go so bad - thought I might actually be making progress, like this plan might work. Its why I agreed to stay home from work today.

Today, at 1:00p - it is far more a failure than a success. Already the depressive thoughts have swarmed back in. Andrea is angry and frustrated with me because this was her last idea - and it was a good idea. I get overwhelmed and anxious at the drop of a hat with the simplest of things. I simply cannot.handle.life.

I dont know what to do with myself. I can hang out in my room all day watching old episodes of amazing race and knitting up a storm - but even that makes me feel guilty, overwhelmed, useless, and a waste of space: but thats the best I feel. I could go to work and attempt to forget about home - but even at work my anxiety and depression has caused me to be a less then stellar employee.

Im stuck. Everyone has tried everything and its now up to me - only I have no ideas, and no strength.

I really am a useless waste of space.

Sunday, 30 October 2011

Escape and Return

I went to the hospital yesterday. I'd had a really bad friday night, and saturday morning started off on the same low. So, I went. Andrea couldnt take it - couldnt take me anymore.

I arrived and sat down at one of those chairs and the guy asked why I was there. He asked only the important questions in the best possible tone of voice. I was thankful for his seemingly genuine care and concern.

He then sent me over to the admitting desk where the last was far too happy and asked all the same questions. No need to ask them again..at least not in my mind. She eventually got things figured out and ushered me over to the main waiting area. I was numb by this point. I was quieting my sobs.

The first guy found me, gave me some water and put me in the quiet area - where there were no people. I openly wept here, with the lights off for quite some time.

Dr. Moore then came in and pretty much said and did nothing except ask what my lithium levels where if I had indeed gotten them checked. .47. Then he left saying someone from the crisis unit was coming. More crying - this time louder coming from a deep place within myself.

The crisis guy came, I think his name was Alec. He was far too peppy, and was trying to make jokes and be all light hearted. I honestly wanted to stab him violently and furiously and repeatedly. Ive never felt such rage towards a person sitting right in front of me. Same questions; why am I here, why do I feel that way, whats my home like life...etc..etc..Can no one read a fucking file?

More waiting - more crying - this time in the light because Mr. Peppy McStupidFuck turned it on when I asked him to keep it off.

Then they moved me to the waiting room, and originally the same chairs, where we were told we were losing Joah. Another meltdown.

I got up and changed chairs. They let me walk around, go wherever I wanted. How dangerous I thought. I could easily walk into on coming traffic, find a bunch of pills, hurt myself in 8,000 ways and they would never know because no one was keeping track. I didn't though - to be honest, looking back now I almost wish I had. At least then they would have morally felt some blame - after all I was there to get help for suicidal thoughts and if they couldn't keep track of me, what more could I have done?

I got angry at Andrea as well. I dont know why - but I did.

They moved me to a bed: in the clinical decision unit. Its essentially a place where they put people who need a bed but they dont really know where they will be going or how long they will be staying. And that was my home.

I asked to shut the curtains - and then I cried. I cried hard, and loud and into my pillow. I so wanted something to just knock me the fuck out. I could leave anytime I wanted. No one was watching me - no one cared. Here I was trying to get help - the last resort, and it didn't even matter.

I think anyone who comes in there because they are suicidal should immediately get some sort of numbing something. Something to just take the epic meltdown that is coming just simply from checking yourself into the hospital.

I knit. I read. I tried to distract myself - and in between it all I cried.

Andrea came - though I told her I didnt want her to. I didnt want her to see me like that - nor did I want her to leave. It all just sucked. But she came anyways - braided my hair, and laid down besife me.

I took my new pill, Seroquel, and within about 30 minutes felt so overwhelmingly slow and drunk. This is how I am to feel now. Numb and slow and drunk - though I guess thats better than suicidal. She left - I cried.

I kind of slept. With no windows - its very hard. My whole clock is screwed up - even now.

When it was time to wake up - I couldnt. Well I could. But I didnt care. I could lay in bed and sleep all day; not because I was tired but because I didnt care.

Andrea and Remy came to visit - and I cared, but I couldnt care. All of me, all of my feelings, everything was hidden behind the giant blanket of emotional nothingness.

And then wiggers came. And wiggers said I should go home and I should take a week off work. And that was enough to lift the blanket. I now feel like a wreck. Like nothing has changed - like I wasted 24hours of my life and have no been thrown back into this giant pit of soul sucking anxiety than is eventually going to be too much for me.

And what if it is? What happens if it does get too much for me? What do I do then? I've already gone to the hospital - already gone that route - that is the last resort.

Having tried the last option - I am terrified of what happens now. I'm already not handling it well - at all.

Friday, 28 October 2011

Of Epic Proportions

I was at a crossroads last night. I had the potential, the very real potential to end my life - and I seriously considered it. The only reason I didn't was because we have just bought a house and I didn't want to stick Andrea and Matt and to a lesser extent Craig with that responsibility. But what happens next time if that's not enough of a reason? What do I do then? I really don't want to die. Well, a part of me does - I just cant handle having more days and nights like this. I can't handle needing to take pills to numb myself, to make myself happy, or to merely survive. Its a pitiful existence and frankly, in my mind, not a real existence at all.

But I have the numbing pills - they are what Im supposed to take when Im suicidal. So when am I supposed to go to the hospital? This is all so confusing. I pop a pill to disassociate - but it doesnt actually make the problem go away, it just makes me unable to perceive them in a meaningful way. I cant stay numb and high for the rest of my life. And when I come down its even worse - because I know what I have done to myself and I realize that its only because of a tiny white pill that I managed to be happy for 2 hours.

So why not pop another one?

Hello addiction - thats how it starts. Even if you arent chemically addicted the fact that you can only feel happy on the pill makes you want to take it more. Happiness, if even fake, is something I want to hold on to - but I cant afford for it to go away - when it does, I'm even lower than I was before.

I'm lost in a giant sea of pills and suicidal thoughts. I feel like I'm drowning today. Andrea doesn't have the resources to save me - I've used them all already.

I'm scared.

Thursday, 27 October 2011

Where to Go From here

I saw things last night. It wasn't the first time. Small visuals have been happening for a while - but I didn't clue in to what they might be until last night. I was laying in bed and the first thing I "saw" was that there was no glass on the window right in front of me. I reached out to touch it and my hand went outside. It was very weird. Later I looked beside me and Craig was there, I looked to the other side and Andrea was there; looked back at craig - it was no andrea, looked at where andrea had just been and it was empty, looked to the other side and she was gone there as well. It was very terrifying - and I definitely was not asleep. The day previous I had been in with Remy and the room kept getting darker and lighter like a cars headlights were coming into the window - but there has been no car.

I am clearly seeing things.

Call wiggers. He changed my meds. I now take the benzodiazepine daily. The zombie pills will now be a daily part of my routine. The tryptophan is out. He said if this doesn't work then the likelihood of any medication working is only 5%-10%. Treatment Resistant Depression . I'm scared.

Electro Convulsive Therapy

I'm really scared.

Wednesday, 26 October 2011

The Dark Passenger's Friend

So I have had my second night on Lorazepam. Im scared.

See, the dark passenger has this friend that I have been well acquainted with in the past. His name is addiction. I was addicted to pain killers for a while, and I know I have an addictive personality. I dont like the way the lorazepam makes me feel. I dont like to feel numb, and dead and empty. But, Im addicted to the feeling different - or my body is anyways. I am currently craving it. Im actually having a good day today - and I truly hope it continues. But now that Im not fighting off depression, I find myself fighting off his friend.

Its never just cut and dry - its always something. I dont want to crave that medication. I want to just be normal. I want to just be happy and level and at ease. All these meds are changing who I am; as to be expected I suppose.

What do I do? If I give into depression that means I get the meds that my body is telling me I want. But I hate feeling that level of depression, and I actually dont like the feeling lorazepam gives me.

WTF do I do now?

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

4 medications

I am in a dark place.

A very dark place.

Hope has essentially vanished.

I took my first lorazepam last night and it made me into my worst fear - a zombie. I couldn't feel anything good or anything bad. I just, was. It wasn't crappy then. Only when I woke up and realized what had happened.

I take 6 pills a day now.

I feel like I can still feel some of the effects. I have no "eumph!" to my step or personality. I just am.

I am losing hope in a very quick way. I am not longer scared - and that thought should frighten me - but I feel nothing.

What have I done to myself?

Monday, 24 October 2011

4 days

I have been heavily suicidal for four days now. I have made a plan even: thankfully I got through my 'deadline.' I have sent my psychiatrist an email, and phones him twice in the last week. He's busy I guess - because he hasn't gotten back to me.

Last night I went to a local crisis center - and they were closed. I called the 888 hotline, goodbye pride, and spoke to the 21yr old who can only speak to me with predetermined scripts. She forwarded my name and number to my local crisis line. 15 minutes they call me back and said that because I'm not going to kill myself right.this.second there really isnt anything she can do. She will leave a note for dr. wiggers and see if he can give ma a prescription for a prn medication. That was it.

I will be on four medications now.

I cant get help unless Im going to kill myself immediately, and I know I wont call or go anywhere if I have pills or a knife in my hand. So..how am I supposed to be proactive.

I hope he gets back to me today. Things are rough.

I have no motivation to work, and in fact have just been sitting here dabbling minimally in actual work because I honestly just.cant.care.

I want to go home, hole myself up in bed, maybe knit - but probably just sleep. I feel safe in bed, and sleeping is my only escape from my personal misery.

Introduction

This blog is my blog to chronicle in a less raw form than my journal my struggles and passage through depression.

I suppose before I actually get into it, I should give a history.

I'm me. Im 26years old. I have a wonderful partner, Andrea, and four glorious children.

I have been battling depression since October of 2010 - though I wasnt given a psychiatric diagnosis until probably July 2011. I saw an EFT specialisty through December/January and then a psychotherapist from March-June until I could no longer afford him.

My psychiatrist is free. He also prescribes me drugs. Thats all the help Im getting right now.