Recap, part 1

Obviously there has been a huge gap between my last posts and now.  So much has happened, and I'm not just talking everyday things.  There have been some GINORMOUS life events.  In hopes of recapping, here's a short, but sweet, timeline of events.  I'm sure I will expand upon some of them at a later date.

*July 7, 2014 - My husband and I found out we did not get custody of the kids.  However, Z was emancipated.

*July 12, 2014 - My husband cheats on me with TB.

*July 25, 2014 - The kids' last day at our house after summer visitation.  My husband informs me he doesn't see his future including me.  We talk and he agrees to work on our marriage.

*July 27, 2014 - My husband cheats again with TB before coming home to me to have family time with the kids.  He's affectionate with me.

*July 28-August 12, 2014 - Lots of talking with the husband.  Find out he's developing feelings for someone but it's not been physical.  We agree we shouldn't be husband and wife but have no plans to divorce.  We will still be family for the kids.  Lots of compromising on my part but I want to do everything I can to keep my family, even though, in hindsight, "my family" didn't really include my husband any longer.

*August 13, 2014 - The truth comes out about the physical relationship.

*August 13-September 1, 2014 - We fine tune what our relationship now looks like.  He agrees to help me stay in our home until K graduates from high school (May 2017) and we will share visitation time together with the children.  We move Z into college to begin his Freshman year.  Other than that, he will continue his relationship with his girlfriend TB, living with her in another town.

*September 2, 2014 - After time with TB, he comes home to change everything and take away all he'd promised me.  He gives me until the end of the year to figure out how I can support myself and the household.  If I cannot do that, he will kick me out.  I fly into a rage and do something I will regret for the rest of my life.  He then gives me until the end of the month.  Realizing I cannot make that happen, my mom and stepfather agree to let me move in with them - in a different city 180 miles from my home.

*October 4, 2014 - I move to Omaha.

I will continue this at a later date.  It's a good place to stop since the coming changes deal less and less with the dissolution of my marriage and focuses on my family of three - me, Z, and K.  

Robin Williams

I am now painfully aware that no matter how much balance I find within myself, that I am still in danger, that I need to be constantly vigilant, and that my struggle could gain strength at any moment.

Until our society aggressively, strongly addresses mental illness, until we move it from a side issue to a real issue, until we give it the same priority as other illnesses… I will still have that fear. I will still shake my head at what is often a death-by-disease that we call suicide.

And we will all still need to speak up.

The above quote is from the article Robin Williams Didn't Kill Himself.  It discusses how his mental illness is what killed him.  It's true.

I've attempted suicide.  I was in that place where I was hopeless, the disease was too much, and I simply could not fight anymore.  I also didn't want to fight anymore.  

I'm glad I wasn't successful...with any of my attempts.

There are still days that I want to die.  I want to give up and just not have to deal anymore.  But this is different.  I have no intention of doing anything to end my life.  I don't have any plans on how I could end my life.  I don't really want to die...I just want the pain and agony and depression to stop.  I want to know what it feels like to not battle it day in and day out All.  The.  Time.

But I never know what could happen.  Is there something that could trigger me into trying?  Could circumstances lead me to making plans? 

I am in constant danger.  I need to fight every moment of every day.  I need to reach out when I start drowning in the illness.  I need to be hyper-vigilant.

It's all I can do.  

The death of Robin Williams is terribly sad.  His battle with mental illness was known and many couldn't see how the funny, wealthy, adored man could be so troubled.  Mental illness, among numerous other diseases/illnesses, are invisible disabilities.  You generally cannot see that something is wrong.  And because you cannot be visually reminded that there is a real disease, it becomes even more difficult to understand.

I would guess he had good days and bad days.  Everyone does.  Mental illness can make the bad days even worse, the good days barely okay, or even flip it back and forth between the two extremes.

Mental illness is a real disease.  It needs to be treated as such.  It can be just as tragic and debilitating as any other disease.  It affects the person with the disease and it affects their families and friends.  I can impact each and every part of their life.

I'm doing my part and speaking up and speaking out. I have to.

Crickets

October has been a crazy busy month and it's only half over.  I know my blog is going to be neglected for the rest of the month but I did want to write a quick post.

I think I am getting better. 

Life is getting a bit easier.

Not as many panic attacks or down days have plagued me.

I don't want to get my hopes up but I am definitely smiling more.

Suicidal ideation

With some full disclosure to my doctor, I got a new label of something I have: Suicidal ideation.

Sounds scary or kind of cool or maybe like an awesome name for a band, huh?

Well, if you look up the definition, it can definitely slip over into Scary Land:

Suicidal ideation is a medical term for thoughts about or an unusual preoccupation with suicide. The range of suicidal ideation varies greatly from fleeting to detailed planning, role playing, and unsuccessful attempts, which may be deliberately constructed to fail or be discovered, or may be fully intended to result in death. Although most people who undergo suicidal ideation do not go on to make suicide attempts, a significant proportion do. Suicidal ideation is generally associated with depression; however, it seems to have associations with many other psychiatric disorders, life events, and family events, all of which may increase the risk of suicidal ideation. Currently, there are a number of different treatment options for those experiencing suicidal ideation.

That one comes from Wikipedia.

From About.com we get:

Strictly speaking, suicidal ideation means wanting to take one's own life or thinking about suicide without actually making plans to commit suicide. However, the term suicidal ideation is often used more generally to refer to having the intent to commit suicide, including planning how it will be done. Suicidal ideation is one of the symptoms of both major depression and bipolar depression.

Ah ha!  That's me if you just reference the strictly speaking part...especially the area I set in bold and underlined for extra impact. 

There are days I wish I was dead.  There are moments when I cannot help but think that it is the only way to be done with this.  I sometimes think that my family would be better off without me and my issues.

But...

I do not have a plan.  I have no intention of harming myself or others.  I am not going to kill myself.

Why?

Because I don't really want to die.  I love my life.  I love my family and my friends.  I love the activities I do and the things I accomplish.

My husband knows and understands this.  Often when I tell him that I wish I was dead he will calmly ask me if I have a plan.  When I tell him no, he just gives me a hug.  I also have friends who know and understand.  They know the right questions to ask just to check that I haven't slipped over into the Scary Land version of suicidal ideation. 

So, I have suicidal ideation.  For me, it's not necessarily bad or scary or something that requires intervention.  It's a thought and nothing more.

Like drowning

 

Right now, I'm drowning.  My soul hurts.  I am done on every level - emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual.  

I am downing because someone I love passed away.  Her void is felt already.  Her passing leaves my step father without any parents.  My heart is breaking for him.  I don't know how to console him.  Words simply do not come.  All I can do is offer to help out as best I can, to transport my brother, to be the charming hostess at the wake.  To remind him that I love him.  And that I am here.

I am downing because a child decided to end her own life. The child - this 19 year old child - was once like a daughter to me.  But then her mother and I dissolved our friendship.  I checked with the family to see if it would be okay for me to attend her funeral.  Her mother said she would be uncomfortable with me there.  So I will respect her wishes and not attend.  My heart is breaking.  The last interaction I had with this child was very positive.  But, out of respect, which is the same respect I showed by asking in the first place, I will honor the wishes of her mother.  I don't need to attend a funeral to pay my respects and honor the life of this child.  I do wish I could go though.

I'm downing because I am stressed.  So much is going on and I have so very little control over much of it.  I'm not good when I don't have some bit of control.  I have a ritual that I will be leading this coming weekend.  It's on finding and utilizing your inner peace.  Do you have any idea how difficult it is to write about peace when you feel none?  Seriously, fuck peace and just let me get through the day without losing it and let me get through the night without waking in a cold sweat, on the edge of a panic attack, and with the looming night terrors still swimming in my brain.

I am downing because I'm tired and when I'm tired, I find it even more difficult to hold myself together.  I don't know how to deal with the sleepiness AND depression or stress or anxiety.  When I'm tired, I just do my best to get through the day and tackle the one most important task of that moment.

I'm downing.  And I wish it was literal instead of figurative.*

*I am not going to kill myself or attempt to harm myself in any way.  No worries. 

three nine

I turned 39 yesterday.  I don't feel any different except for the thought that 40 is no longer years away.  It is now months, weeks, and days away.  Part of my has this dread about 40.  The other part of me, it doesn't care in the least.  I'm not the type of person to fib about my age.  I figure I have earned each and every year of my life so why not acknowledge that. 

Not really noticing any difference since I've been off the Wellbutrin.  Today will be day number nine without it.  I don't know how long it will stay in my system once I stop ingesting it.  Maybe I should look that up.  I figure it is anywhere between two and twelve weeks.  My rationale is that it takes at least two weeks to feel any effects of the medicine in your body and that it should be fully integrated into your system by twelve weeks.  Seems the same would also go for getting it out of your system. 

Had a very intense weekend.  I went through a 2-day training and it wore me out - mentally, emotionally, and physically.  There was a bit of a ginormous kick in the gut Saturday night where my inner-self and all that I hold dear and feel is a part of my core being was exposed, brought into question, and demolished.  It wasn't literally demolished and I still retain all those things but I need to do some more processing to get to the heart of the revelation. 

The basic gist of said revelation is that to embrace the Shanda I am meant to become, I must rid myself of all my attachments.  These attachments are my life.  The attachments include my husband, my step kids, my parents, my siblings, my pets, my friends.  Let's not forget my home and all that I value and hold dear. 

Say what?!?!

I'm not to have anything - physical, emotional, spiritual, moral, ethical, etc. - holding me back.  Nothing.

Hello?!?!

My connections to these things are so important to me.  While they don't necessarily define me, they do make up a great deal of my core being.  My spirit and soul are linked to the connections and attachments I form in my life.  I hold them as sacred and place enormous value on them.

A huge scary realization that came along with this revelation is about suicide/death.  I believe that I've talked about this in the past.  If not, please do not freak out.  I am NOT suicidal.  I have NO PLANS to end my own life or do harm to myself.  Anyway, there are moments that I wish I would just die.  This is because everything in my head is just becoming too much.  I don't feel like I can handle it and make it through another moment.  I want the depression to end.  The only way to truly end my depression is for my life to end.  This is why I sometimes want to die.

However, I would never kill myself.  I wouldn't do that to my friends, my family, and my loved ones.  Suicide is selfish and I couldn't take that route.  I know I won't ever end my own life because I don't want to hurt those people I would leave behind.

Those people I have connections with and attachments to.

(See where I'm going with this?)

So, if I have no more connections and no more attachments, does that mean I would be willing to end my own life? Honestly, I do not know.  I really, really want to say that I wouldn't but I cannot know until I have been in that situation.  And since I don't see myself giving up those attachments and connections, you can rest assured that I will still be here in the morning...and the next day...and the next year...and for however long I'm meant to live this life. 

As I said, I'm still processing this information.  Some bits I've started to see as methods to detach from my connections make sense.  I don't need to officially rid myself of all those attachments but I do need to be able to adopt a mindset of detachment for certain aspects of my life.  This detachment may include a symbolic death of the old me so I can become what I'm meant to be.  Seems much more acceptable and possible to achieve. 

Crash mode

I've talked about protection and preparation mode in a past post.  It is something I do when I know I will be doing something outside of my norm...visitors at my house, being around a large-ish group of people, etc.  There is also the crash mode.  It is actually very similar to protection and preparation mode.  The difference is that it just happens, without warning, because of what has happened in the recent past.  This can be pushing myself too much with different and new experiences, not adequately preparing (and protecting) myself prior to such changes. 

To me, PPM (protection and preparation mode - just named it, hahaha) is a positive step.  It is proactive.  It might be a crutch but I would much rather call it a coping mechanism.  PPM requires me to take active steps towards increased success when I'm going to do something that typically causes issues for me with my depression and/or anxiety. 

On the other hand, CM (crash mode) is a result.  It's more so negative because it tends to interfere with me having a normal life.  It is also something to note because when CM hits, I then know I need to review the past several days to see what was different so I can discover what it was that triggered the CM.  There aren't always triggers; depression or anxiety get you in their claws and have their way with you.  It is part of the journey I am on while living with depression. 

When I know what triggers me to have issues, I can prepare for them adequately.  When I don't, I hit CM and realize I need to do what I can to prepare for such instances in the future.  It's a teaching moment for myself.  It's all about the process and figuring out the aspects of my life.

Anyway, today was a CM.  I had plans with Li to go for lunch.  I also had a number of things to get accomplished today because the weekend is full.  Didn't do a thing.  Slept a great deal.  Cried and shut down for a bit.  It affected my life.

Why?

Well, I'm no June Cleaver and I've kind of been trying to be her for the past couple of days.  I have stopped short of donning a 1950s dress and bringing my husband a drink, his pipe, and his slippers upon his arrival from a long, hard day of work.  But I was trying to be this perfect wife and mother.

On Wednesday, the kids came out to stay with us.  It's a rare treat to have them here during the week while they are actually in school.  With the exception of summer, our visits with them are typically weekends, school breaks, and holidays.  We also had my step daughter's friend staying with us while her parents were out of town. 

So I cleaned.  And made real meals.  And participated in nightly, family bonding time.  Wore my happy smile and pretended as though all was fine and dandy.  It was, for the most part.  Then today hit and my brain called me on my bullshit and shut down. 

I am a good wife and I am a good (step) mother.  But I am my version of these titles, not those of someone else.  I'm not perfect and I don't smile all the time.  I'm not crazy perky or all happy happy.  I am usually true to my authentic self and put on no airs when I'm in my home.  (Still occasionally don those masks for moments when it is necessary to be someone else just so I can survive.)

So I take this lesson and learn from it.  I apply what I know to how I need to be. 

Indescribable

I cannot explain what is going on in my head right now.  The words won't come to me.  Descriptions are not possible.  I just know that it isn't good.

The difficult thing is that it also isn't bad.  I'm not suicidal.  I'm not hibernating in my bed, avoiding the world and all responsibilities.  I'm not any more bitchy or temperamental than what has become typical of me.  I'm still functioning...for the most part.

But there is this dark cloud over me.  It's like I'm swimming through sludge at something less than a snail's pace.  My thoughts are muddled and mixed up and they make no sense to me most of the time.  When they do, in that brief, flickering moment, I snag an ounce of clarity before it drifts away.  I have virtually no attention span rendering focusing on any given task for more than a few moments impossible.  It's taken me nearly an hour just to write this post.  I keep getting distracted and drawing a blank and falling into some random thought process that doesn't seem to even involve actual thoughts. 

I'm going to call my doctor today. I'm going to ask to drop the Wellbutrin just to see how that goes. And then? I don't know. The next steps rely on what the doctor has to say.

Until then, I'm just going to do my best to keep it together.  I really do feel like one move, one thought, one moment could shatter me into a million pieces.  I don't want that to happen.  It simply can't happen because I don't know if I will be able to pick up the pieces, much less put them back together to resemble something even remotely like me. 

To try or not to try...is that even a question?

"You won't know until you try."

"Just give it a try."

"It doesn't hurt to try."

"What have you got to lose?"

We say the above statements all the time. They are meant to prod and encourage. It's a motivator in a sense. It is said to remind others that trying is acceptable and that it's okay if you don't succeed or win or finish or whatever. And that's true and a good attitude to possess.

But...

What if trying does more harm than good? What if you put yourself out there and the result is best labeled as an epic failure? Should you still try it?

It's a contradiction. I'd tell my step kids and my husband and my friends to give it a shot. For many things in my own life, I would be hearing the inner dialogue prompt me to try. After all nothing ventured is nothing gained. Right?

However if venturing not only doesn't gain anything but also sets you back or renders you helpless or defeats your will and soul and introduces paralyzing anxiety back into your life and turns you into a zombie-like shell where even your husband cannot find a flicker of light in your eyes, much less the woman he fell in love with and destroys every bit of sanity you possess and flings you so far down into a pit of despair and depression that you cannot even see the light at the opening of the pit much less return to it...

*gulp of air*

...should you still try?

For me, it comes down to fear. Plain and simple. I know "what ifs" aren't worth fretting over. I do know that. I'm keenly aware of that. I preach it to others and to myself. But still, I fret.

So much to lose and so much to gain. Does the want of what could possibly be gained trump the terror of what could possibly be lost? Is one "worth" more than the other? How to you place value on a potentially better life? And how do you decide if said value is greater than the value of sanity and positive mental health?

Do I try?

(I love this song - "Try" by P!nk.  The song is about love, but the chorus and last verse can be about anything.  They ring true for me.) 

Things that make you go hmm...

I haven't been doing much personal blogging lately.  I've been sharing photos/graphics and ideas from other sites.  It's been safer for me to do so.  It's not that I don't want to be vulnerable and share my thoughts and feelings, it's that I have been unable to figure them out enough to express them in a manner that makes even a small bit of sense. 

The whole process and intent of this blog is for me to have a vehicle to figure out my thoughts, fears, and feelings as I go through my life with depression.  I want to help myself by working through the issues and if I can offer some insight to myself and potentially others, all the better.  By sharing my successes and struggles, I feel that I am making progress.

Yesterday was the 3 week mark of being on the increased dosage of Zoloft.  I feel like it is making a little bit of difference but it still isn't enough.  I'm not where I want to be.  I really think I could feel better and be happier.  I'm doing what I can to help me reach that potential but it isn't enough.  I don't like relying on medication to help me but am very much so aware that I don't have the luxury to be drug-free.  I'm okay with that...mostly.  My health and my sanity are a priority and if keeping myself sane and functioning means filling my body with chemicals, so be it. 

Because of how I'm feeling (or not feeling), I need to call the doctor.  But, I'm afraid.  I don't know what the next step will be.  Part of me says to give it another week.  It makes sense to be really sure that the dosage is fully integrated into my system.  Talked myself into it so I will be waiting another week.  See, my blog is good for me to work through some issues. 

I really, really do believe that this isn't how it's going to be.  I have to believe that because if it isn't true, then there is no point in taking these meds or working through the problems.  So I believe, even when it is difficult to do so on most days.  Part of getting better does mean I need to write more and, in turn, blog more.  The entries might not make sense and may ramble on in a stream-of-conscious manner, but they do help. 

So, with a deep breath, I take the next six days as they come and commit to speaking with my doctor next week. 

Bad days

I've been having multiple bad days.  I'm still having more good days than bad, but I'm having many more bad days per week than I have since I started back on my meds.  It's something I will definitely report to the doctor when I call in next week. 

One of the worst things about these bad days are that there is no warning.  It's not as if there is a slow progressing where I feel a little bit worse each day.  It's a BAM!  And it can last for hours or all day or even a few days. 

Today is my third bad day in a row.

There is no reason, rationale or explanation.  It just is and it just happens.  Will it always be like this?  Perhaps.  Will it interfere with my life, especially that future life where I plan to work full-time?  Perhaps.  Does it scare me?  Definitely.

I worry that my depression will get me fired, if I can even get to the point of not having a full-blown panic attack while just looking for a job, much less actually applying, interviewing and starting work.  I worry that I will let down so many people, including myself, if I fail at handling what so many people view as life.  I am fully aware that worrying gets a person absolutely nowhere and that it is just wasting energy, but it's difficult to stop and not worry.  But that viewed life?  It is one that is productive, where the person has a job, can be relied on, earns money, enjoys time with friends and family.  Almost more than anything, I want to be that person.

When you want something so normal and natural to most people, it becomes an ache deep within your soul.  You have a void in your heart that you need to fill.  Desperately need to fill.  So you try.  And you try again.  Undoubtedly, you fail a time or twelve.  But you keep trying. This also involves pushing yourself and stepping out of your comfort zone. 

At some point, you either reach your goal or modify your plan and keep going by trying different approaches.  You have people giving your suggestions, uninvited or not.  They push you.  It is rare that they understand you, even more so rare if they are able to see deep down to the root of your struggles and pain, to the true you that is buried somewhere under all the pain and all the struggles, and understand.  This is the you who is battered and broken.  You are bruised and terrified and just really want to give up.  If you could have a do-over, you would and demand that you not have these problems, not have this illness, this disease. 

These moments...these realizations...don't help when you are already having a bad day where you mental illness is fighting against you.  When the two team up, it's nearly unbearable. 

I'm at that point.

And a fucking hate it.

I don't know what to do.

If I did know what to do, I'm not even sure I would know how.

Quickie

I haven't posted in a while and it is not because nothing has been going on.  Actually, quite a bit has been happening but I've just been unmotivated to up-date.  I don't really feel like playing catch up so I'm just going to do a few highlights.

Blu - My Blu ecig starter kit arrived.  It is perfect.  I smoke without the nicotine, tar, etc. and get to use it as a tension breaker and stress reliever.  I love it and I have really been able to cut down on my Ativan.

Driving - I'm currently house and pet sitting for my dad and his wife while they are on vacation.  I drove here by myself.  It's a huge accomplishment for me.  For one, I had to drive through Lincoln which meant lots of cars, lots of exits and more lanes of traffic.  I also had to drive in to Omaha and am driving around Omaha.  That means crazy traffic, unfamiliar areas and much more insanity.  But I'm doing okay.

I also had to make a fast trip back home on Sunday because my Katana was having anxiety issues.  We drove back to Kearney and then turned around to come back to Omaha.  I was gone from my father's house for just over seven hours, six of which were spent driving.

Meds - I've been on the 150 mg of Zoloft for just over a week now.  Nothing.  I need to call Dr. S and let him know.  Wonder what will happen next?

Out of my safe zone - Because I am house and dog sitting, I'm not in my familiar surroundings with my things and my life.  It stresses me out but, so far, I'm doing fairly well.  I will be here for at least five more days.  Keeping my fingers crossed that I don't have any issues.

Being busy and visiting people - During my time in Omaha, I have scheduled a visit to friends and family.  Every day I'm going to see someone.  This is also a little overwhelming for me but I put myself into this position.  I almost backed out of seeing a darling friend, her husband and the munchkins because I was feeling nervous and panicked.  But I didn't and I'm really glad that I went to see them.  It was good for my soul.

I might elaborate on some of the above blurbs at some point, but for now, it's a good record of issues and how I'm dealing with any problems that may arise. 

What if the new dosages don't do it?

Since I'm on a new dosage of Zoloft and back to my original dosage of Wellbutrin, I have been wondering what will happen if this doesn't do what we are hoping it will.  To the best of my recollection, Dr. S and I didn't make a plan beyond where we are now.  He did once again mention that we can max out on Zoloft by getting to 200 mg.  I would guess that would be the next step if I'm not feeling where I want to be and having some motivation.

But what if I don't improve and the side effects of an increased Zoloft dosage show up?  I'm most concerned about the idea of getting numbed out and not being able to experience my emotions fully.  I'm also worried about the weight gain and sexual side effects.  If that happens, I would guess we wouldn't again up the dosage.

So where does that leave me?

I'm full of all sorts of "what ifs?" that are starting to drive me just a little bit bonkers.  I know it does me absolutely no good at all to worry about something that hasn't happened yet and might not even happen.  I also know that being apprehensive about all these potential problems only makes me more prone to panic attacks.

It is difficult, but I'm trying to direct my thoughts towards the positive.  I and trying to remember that my doctor knows what he is doing and knows what my needs are.  I keep pushing myself to recall that there are multiple methods for alleviating my mental illness issues.

One step at a time, I guess.  And do what I can to keep Mr. Worry at bay.

My nerves are getting the better of me

Today, I go to the doctor today for my three month med check.  I'm utterly and completely nervous, bordering on terrified.  It's not the actual visit that has me worried.  It is the fact that once I report that the Wellbutrin isn't working, it is what will be our next course of action.

Will he try a different add-on med to supplement my Zoloft?  And if so, how much will it cost?

Will he up the dosage of the Wellbutrin?  How much will that increase the price?

Maybe he'll up the dosage on my Zoloft and drop the Wellbutrin.  Or maybe he'll up the dosage on my Zoloft and keep me on the Wellbutrin.  Or maybe he'll increase the dosage of both.

What if he wants to scrap all the meds I'm on and start me on something completely new and different?  Then there's a potential cost increase.  Never mind the waiting period to see if this med is going to work or not.

And like I said, things aren't necessarily bad with how the meds were working before the addition of the Wellbutrin or even after it was added.  Life was okay.  I was doing okay.  My depression and anxiety was somewhat okay.

But I didn't want to be just okay.

And I still don't want to be just okay.

Because really, I'm not.

Alcohol reactions

I don't drink very often anymore.  I will occasionally have a drink or take a sip of something but I generally elect to avoid alcohol.  No real reason except that I really don't enjoy drinking or getting drunk.  Alcoholism also runs in my family.

On my meds, it is recommended that you don't drink.  But I was curious how alcohol would affect me so I had a few mimosas on Christmas day morning.  My husband and I have started a tradition of having French toast, bacon or sausage and mimosas for breakfast on that day.  Since I wanted to know how alcohol might affect me, I decided it was a good time to give it a try since we didn't have any plans for the day and it would just be the two of us at home.

And I will not be drinking again, or at least as long as I am on my meds.

Initially I was fine and had a slight buzz from the champagne.  As time progressed, I got dizzy and felt exceptionally hot.  My brain function was not good.  I couldn't concentrate and was having problems selecting the right words and my memory was shot. 

It was not a good feeling. 

Chalking it up to experience and I'm glad to know that I should avoid alcohol. 

Road trip

Today I'm driving to Grand Island.  It is about fifty miles away from here and should take me about an hour drive time.  This is the first time I've driven myself out of town in a very long time.  I'm a little nervous but I know I'm going to be okay.

Car rides have been problems for me for the past several years.  I get terrified and jumpy.  It doesn't matter if I am driving or is someone else is driving.  This only happens on longer trips since I am fine driving or riding in town.

For family trips, I've found that there are things I can do to help ease the anxiety.  If I have Ativan, I take one at least an hour before we leave.  I usually take another one as soon as I get into the car.  I sit in the back seat and wear headphones with the music playing as loud as I can stand it.  I also read or play games on my phone.  Keeping me cool also helps a great deal since feeling too warm or hot is a trigger for me.  Chewing gum or sucking on some hard candy is another good thing.  By engaging so many of my senses simultaneously, my brain doesn't have time or energy...or at least not as much...to obsess about the fact that I'm in a car and could possibly die.

When I get the chance to drive, I feel a little better.  It's a control issue.  Not only do I have control over the vehicle, but the driver also has ultimate say on the music and the temperature in the vehicle.

I'm sure I will update soon about how this journey goes.  I'm trying to be as confident as possible and not over-think it.

Phone phobia

The other day, my phone rang.  It was someone I know but I choose to not answer.  My husband and stepkids were questioning me about why I didn't answer.  I tried to just blow it off with some lame excuse.  They didn't let me get away with it so I tried to break it down and explain it.

I'd never done this before.  But, I'm now glad that I can put my fear into words.

I don't have an actual fear of talking on the phone.  My fear is that I'm caught by surprise and don't know how to make a conversation flow when I feel ambushed by the call.  More often than not, I will ignore a call and listen to the voicemail.  (For the record, I hate it when someone calls and doesn't leave a message.  If you do that, I generally won't call you back unless you call multiple times.)  Once I hear the voicemail, I know what the caller wanted and am better prepared for the phone conversation.  I will then call them back.

And that is for numbers that I do know.  Forget about me answering if your number is not in my phone. 

I'm generally okay with calls from my parents, sister or brother.  My husband and stepkids are always on the answer list.  My best friends will not be ignored.  But anyone else, more than likely you will not reach me on a first call.

Perhaps it is childish or stupid but it is how I work.  It is one of those little tricks I have developed to help me best handle life and the situations it may toss in my direction. 

Bad night turns to bad day

I wrote about the bad night I recently experienced.  It sucked.  But that was only the beginning since the bad night turned into a bad day that had an unexpected surprise.  Lovely.

I was able to get a bit of sleep after I posted my blog.  Didn't get nearly enough but some is better than none.  My brain and thoughts were still going completely bonkers so doing much of anything was difficult.  But I had obligations that day so I did my best even though it was rough going.

Li, Lo and I have a weekly get together on Thursday evenings.  Mostly we do some witchy/pagan/learning/discussion-type of thing.  Every two months we have a divination day where we get a chance to practice on each other and also get a reading our two of our very own.  It's really nice. 

By start time (5:00 pm) my brain was still a murky mess.  I'd taken an Ativan but it wasn't helping.  It was really getting annoying and almost even scary.  Because of how I was feeling, I decided it was best to not do any tarot readings for the girls since interpreting something - anything - was not going to be possible.  Focus was also not happening so most forms of divination were out for me.  I decided I would go ahead and work on some Numerology since there isn't much interpretation involved early on in the reading.  It made sense and still allowed me to play with my best friends.

I was hanging in there.  I worked on the Numerology and listened while Lo did a reading for Li.  I even added some interpretations of my own.  We took a small break then so I decided to use the restroom.

This is when things went wonky and the unwelcome surprise made an appearance.

I used the restroom, washed my hands, dried them and my mind went totally blank.  Blank really isn't the right word for it since there was still the racing thoughts screaming in my brain, but I totally forgot where I was.  I took a couple of deep breaths and stared at myself in the mirror.  It clicked that I was at the library.  However, I had no clue what I was doing at the library.  I walked out of the bathroom and looked around, hoping something would click.  And it did.  But those moments were terrifying.  It maybe lasted twenty seconds but that was too long.

I have never experienced something like this.  I do sometimes forget what I was going to say.  It is like the thought is there and then I go to speak it and poof! it's gone.  I also have been known to walk into a room only to forget the reason for entering it.  Those are small events that happen to a lot of people.  I feel they might happen more often to me but I really have nothing to base that on.

I did make it back to our meeting room and shared, briefly, the issue with Li and Lo.  They were obviously concerned but I needed to leave.  There were offers to follow me but I said I would be okay.  I hoped that was the truth.  I made it to my destination and texted both of them so they knew I was safe and sound.

Later that night, I shared the incident with my husband.  It worried him as well.  I told him that if it happened again, I would share it with Dr. S when I go back in January.  If it happens more than once, I promised that I would contact the doctor immediately and get in to see him ASAP.

The hubby and I also talked about how I was doing.  He feels that I'm backsliding a little and I agree.  I'm not where I was before going back on the medication, but I've had some decrease in patience and increases in crying and being snappish.

The Zoloft should be fully integrated into my system by now so the dosage is doing all that it can for me.  I've been on the Wellbutrin for roughly six weeks and am still not noticing any difference.  Part of me wishes I would have asked Dr. S to just keep me on the Zoloft for a while before changing anything.  It's difficult to tell if the Wellbutrin is having an adverse effect or just not working.  Maybe I just haven't given it enough time.

The plan is to just keep taking my meds as prescribed as long as there are no further incidents or a noticeable, further backslide into why I know to be my symptoms of depression.  If there is a change for the worse or I have another blankout issue, I will see the doctor immediately.

Support group

It has been a few years since I have been to the local mental health support group.  I did enjoy going and stopped because I just didn't want to go anymore.  I'd gone faithfully for a number of months and then stopped.  Several months later, I returned only to never return again.  But I'm thinking about going back.

The support group is organized through NAMI.  There is a group leader who keeps us on track and reminds us of the goals of a NAMI peer support group.  We mostly go around in a circle and tell about how we have been doing.  For the regulars, this means talking about how things have been going for the past week since the last group meeting.  When you are new, you share your story which generally includes your diagnosis and what has been going on since you first found out you had some form of mental illness.  If you have been gone for a while, you recap and hit on your diagnosis and just give a general update on what has been going on since you were last active within the group.

My first visit was full of tears.  Lots of crying.  Luckily for me, it was a small group that week.  The people in the support group were all very different, will a variety of mental illnesses.  Our stories were different yet the same.  We were all struggling with making our lives the best possible.  Each of us wanted to find that delicate balance that would allow us to be ourselves and not our mental illness diagnosis. 

But the time has come for me to give it a chance again.  I need that support and reminder that I'm not alone in my battle.  I need to talk to virtual strangers about my thoughts and feelings.  Talking to people I don't know allows me to be more open and honest because I don't feel like I need to censor myself or word issues in a manner that won't hurt the listener.  Plus, these are the people that understand because they have been there.  They don't judge because they do not want to be judged. 

I will go back Monday. 

I'm slightly nervous but not as much as I was at that first meeting.  It's a good nervous, at least that is what I think.  Hopefully my experience will be just as helpful as it was in the past.

Respect yourself

 Just a kind reminder to myself.  From the Brave Girls Club.

Dear Lovely Girl,

Sometimes you are the only one on earth who knows exactly the battles that you have had to fight, the dragons you have had to slay, the muck you have had to walk through, the pain you have had to endure, the strength you have had to build, the wisdom you have had to earn. Sometimes you are the only one who knows the depth that is behind your own eyes.

For this reason, beautiful friend, it is so important that you give yourself the kind of respect that you would give to someone who has lived through all that you have lived through. It is so important that you are compassionate with yourself, that you are gentle with yourself, that you are patient with yourself. It is so important that you continue to remind yourself that you have made it through tough things and that you will continue to make it through things. It is so important that you give yourself credit for what you have learned so far instead of comparing yourself with others. It is so important that you cheer yourself on, instead of putting yourself through the ringer. It is so important that you are fair and kind with this sacred information that you have about yourself. No one, aside from our Creator, knows what we know about ourselves, and so we must be careful and responsible and a noble guardian over these things.

You are worth whatever it takes for you to be respectful, kind, patient and good to yourself. Listen to your heart, listen to your dreams, listen to the things that hurt and take care of them. No matter how much someone else loves you, they can not know what it means to BE you, and so you must do the work of BEing you, and taking care of you.

Take the time, dear friend. You are so important.
Be good to YOU, so that you can be good to everyone you love, and good AT everything you love.

You are so very loved.

xoxo