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.