Monthly Archive for February, 2009

What are you on?

When it comes to mental illness and treatment by way of medication(s) I wish asking what someone is taking wasn’t considered as bad as asking someone what they make or asking an obviously pregnant woman if she is pregnant.  Not only is there too much of a negative stigma surrounding anti-depressants, and anti-psychotics there are many untrue and unfair assumptions and an almost instant labeling of a person on such medications as well.

Because I have always been so open about my struggles with depression long before I started a blog I searched for years for help that worked for me, once I started to blog the emails with “may I ask you what you are taking, what you are on in regards to anti-depressants” started to pour in and I guess up until now because I am asked so much and because it changes rather regularly I have always answered them privately.

Up until early 2003 I will admit that my rage issues where not under any sort of control.  I hit a rage bottom; I could have severely injured someone if just even one piece of glass had flown in a different direction.  This person has never given up on me though, just talked to them the other day. Up until the rage bottom I think I condoned the violence against others as ‘well people used to kick the shit out of me for nothing so what the fuck’, I got in some choice bar fights and have kicked and punched more than one ex-boyfriend.  I have never ever even considered causing damage to anyone’s property and although it is extremely embarrassing to admit this and I know that some people feel I am still capable of physical harm to another person, I am not, those were some of my lowest days.

It was not easy finding a combination of medications to help me learn to control and cope with my temper whilst also combating constant suicidal thoughts.  Will there ever come a day that I do not want to cause physical harm to myself, I do really hope so, but inflicting that pain onto my person still sometimes feels like the only way to release the anger, it is like a trance it isn’t a feeling of pain it is freedom, sure I have to wear a long sleeve shirt for a week or two right now but running that dirty resin covered knife up and down my wrist felt really good at the time.

Even as recently as last year I’ve still been learning the hard way, that many people still find me threatening and that I have to watch how I phrase everything because it wasn’t until very recently that I have learned NOT to lash out first.  I am still working on the not lashing out period bit but I am pretty happy with my not lashing out first progress.

Although I did not hit my rage bottom until 2003, I did become absolutely sick of myself in 1999.  My inability to handle situations without my whole life feeling like it was coming to an end, overreacting to everything, my temper and inability to control it, I could keep friends but not boyfriends although I have never ever suffered delusions the paranoia of having to work with and get along with an office full of people started to become way overwhelming.

To make a long story short, in 1999 I walked into my Doctor’s office and said that she was to get me help now or I was walking out the door and in front of a bus.  I was seen at the out patient clinic at Vancouver General Hospital within three days and was put on my first anti-depressant.  I also tried out group therapy and saw yet another psychologist.  I had no medical coverage at the time and paid for everything myself even the sessions where I pretended I was Matt Damon circa Good Will Hunting I never started to sing but I don’t see much difference between counselors and psychologists except the latter takes your money and says “right”, “ok” and “how does that make you feel” at all the right times or wrong times if you ask me I never found even one I liked enough to be like HERE take my money I believe you CAN make me better! Group therapy; I had to be considered nutso enough to be in the group but all I am going to say about group therapy is ONLY CHILD. Meaning AS IF I gave a fuck about a bunch of strangers and their problems and there were all these rules and I was in my early twenties and still hadn’t seen ANYONE who had even mentioned the word BOUNDARIES yet so group therapy did not work for me and left a bad taste in my mouth.

From 1999 through May 2002 I stayed on Paxil, I was able to hold down a corporate job, live alone, I was doing okay and so I came off Paxil.  Man, the withdrawal off that shit feels about as good as having someone titty twist you but you have nipples being twisted all over your body.  But I did it, I was so proud of myself.  Not even two weeks after I was off completely I was assaulted, and that was the end of that. Now I wasn’t just depressed and really fucking angry because I had to go back on anti-depressants, I suddenly had brutal anxiety.  I was prescribed Clonazepam and we’ve been BFF’s since that very day, it calmed me right on down I was one happy little worker that day. I was put on Remeron because it was one of the only ADs at the time that had little or no sexual side affects and I was a total slut at this time in my life BUT no still means no and this AD made all of my depression symptoms worse.  This was well before pharmaceutical companies got in on the game advising you through your television set that you YES YOU need more than JUST a basic AD.

I finally got off the Remeron shit because, I’ve mentioned briefly in a past post, there was a period where I was almost unrecognizable to my friends I was taking mean negative shit from a guy that even at my lowest no one had known me to take I was put on Effexor where I have stayed except for a very brief time where I tried Zoloft and hated it, but at this time I was also put on a list for a psychiatrist.  Now, it is early 2003 May, right at the time when the guy who I was becoming this retarded ass fuck for dumped me on Georgia Street and said loud enough the people on the other side of the four lanes of city traffic probably heard “and I don’t even want to have sex with you anymore”.  He was supposed to have been my rebound from a three year long distance relationship that ended in September 2002 but it went on a little longer than planned because when one of your mutual friends knocks himself off in the middle of your whatever you have it was kinda hard to end it, or it was for me anyway.

Remember that corporate job I said I was able to hold down? They had a really good medical plan. I’d been seeing an internal in the mean time counselor while I was waiting for the psychiatrist and being dumped on my ass on the street in the corporate core of Vancouver and finally getting in to see the man who is still today my psychiatrist could not have come at a better time.

So after all of that I have stayed on a very low dose of Effexor, Clonazepam came and went over the years until I did end up on it permanently originally helping me with anxious sleep, no basic AD has ever been enough to battle the anxiety I was left with on May 19, 2002. After getting weekly appointments in the middle of the work day, Thursdays at 1:00pm was my original time, I was almost instantly diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder. I did get over that, it has returned more than once but my main diagnosis is severe depression.  My temper still tends to get away from me so for that I also take Seroquel which brings my total up to three different meds at once. They have me by the balls now you try coming off ALL of that. When I have gone against doctor’s orders and went off of Seroquel and turned into a devil horned snapper bitch I realized it worked for me even though I seriously hate it, like I bitch about it in session how much I hate it yet it works for me so I’m basically arguing with myself.  He did at one point take me off the Seroquel because I wouldn’t shut up about how much I hated it, basically it makes me sleepy but like Sleepy Smurf so I sound like there are a few screws missing while I’m passing in and out. I tried out a drug called Risperidone but this drug made me start to lactate so I had to choose, go all Tori Amos and be a wet nurse to farm animals with no mommies or go back on Seroquel, needless to say I went back on the Seroquel.

I’m one of those depressive assholes who likes to be in control of their meds though and I take it too far sometimes and I end up almost dead and that hasn’t been fun for anyone so it is best if I take the prescribed dosages of the three and accept it.  Big Brother would prefer that anyway.

Bird on a Wire

I remember when I was sixteen and in the hospital. Obviously, not until after my stomach was pumped and I was put in a room could people come see me. I was in a room in the children’s ward when I’d come in through emergency the admitting nurse knew me extremely well; I’d been very close with her son for years. We weren’t close at that time but I know his mother cared for me. I wasn’t put in the psych ward and if memory serves another kid I went to high school with, his father, was my doctor so I was told that to keep me from getting charged they’d arranged for me to stay in the children’s ward. I don’t know if this was meant to scare me or if it was the truth I just remember the poorly drawn Winnie the Pooh characters on the wall.

Today I went to type out all the messages from my phone incoming and outgoing there were around one hundred because of how sick I am and how sick my mother is. To read the things I have been reading over text message, let alone email, is draining, so draining I can’t respond to my dad’s emails to me like I need to and I am also to keep my mother’s sister abreast of everything and now also my very close friend in Thailand who I’m hoping my Mom will go and see when she is released from the hospital, she will be able to  clear her mind there in a stress free environment, it won’t happen but I can hope, I have mentioned it to her and my dad but I don’t know honestly whether it got through although she did say “I can do that”, but I have no idea of knowing where mentally she was at the time of the conversation.  My energy on about a banana a day is waning and a lot of what is coming from my mother makes no sense or is so painful to read that I’ve already auto-blocked it and my fucking phone deleted my messages fuck you procrastination or I don’t know maybe it was for the best, I know I got one last night that I read to Adam that got a holy fuck response but I have no idea what it said now because it is gone. I had various reasons for wanting to document them.

water.

I know this much, she is in hospital in Denpasar, Indonesia has been all week now I’m guessing, she is refusing to see my father if he is in the room she will not look at him, she eats off and on and her medication has to be injected if she won’t eat. She yells strange things at nothing. She has without a doubt had a full mental break. My dad today is leaving to go back the eight hours away to Bandjar, their house wasn’t even ready. I am extremely concerned about his well being but the doctors see no point in his staying.

Had she not had a full delusional psychotic break down I was fully prepared to step back and let them sort this shit out themselves but with her this sick, and with me surprisingly the sanest of the three of us stepping up to the plate here is an understatement, I will work with my father, I will work together as a unit to deal with now, with getting her better now, the rest can wait, it has to, it isn’t forgotten if he can suddenly admit to his asinine abusive behavior towards her for 39 plus years, he had better find a day where he apologizes and deals with the shit with me, but for my mom  I will put that aside and deal with getting her better as soon as possible and she is far from innocent in all this but by default. But when this is over whether she suddenly changes her mind and decides to stay, goes to Thailand, comes back to Canada, the one thing I know for sure is I am not jumping on the she is all of a sudden my best friend bullshit either. These two people have hurt me very badly and I will help them even though they never ever helped me because it is who I am and I believe my mom is genuinely sorry, I don’t really know what I think of my dad but it isn’t good.

I love strongly and I hate strongly and this situation is no different. And I do not use hate lightly here.

The last couple weeks for me online with social media have been intense and shit [not
"and shit" as in the description of passing use of the word shit in replacement of "stuff" or life goes on shit] things, everything has been shit, I have little or nowhere to direct my anger Adam and I are very hot and cold, he has a soft spot for my mom and he doesn’t like my father very much. He is over stimulated and I am on more medication than I have ever in all of my years of taking prescription medication been on but am still shaking and feel like I am on zilch, and freaking out over nothing and everything, eating might help but fuck eating that would be considered forgiveness towards “me” and why should I forgive myself.

So many people are being so awesome and so supportive right now, sorry I have not been able to get back to everyone, thank you thank you thank you but in my desperation and feeling of eternal doom, that I know will pass, it still brings me back to being sixteen and watching the people who did and didn’t come through my hospital room door, and how there was no way that it couldn’t change the way I saw those people, the people who didn’t come.

one way shadow.

With completely new perspective we were teenagers their parents probably wouldn’t let them come see some crazy girl who’d tried to kill herself and my hearing was fucked for weeks anyway from the Aspirin, it took almost two months for it to return to as normal it would, and it was really embarrassing for me to admit that I couldn’t hear much but a ringing sound unless you talked really loud  at me or my peers and teachers who ignored it completely MAYBE had no idea what to say and I want to give some people the benefit of that doubt right now but it is hard nothing this intense has happened in my life since the passing of PH and when I almost took my own life, and when you realize the petty shit that really does run peoples lives, now, like high school all over again I can feel nothing but sadness and disappointment towards them right now.

I have never felt this helpless before and I can’t at this time abandon either of my parents, the situation has been spoken about with professionals and all the other shit can and will now wait.

And please for the love of The Notebook do not tell me that this “at least validates me and my journey on this blog” because I never needed this for validation.

Error 911

Tumultuous, tempest, terrible, trashed, throw up, turbulent, tired, tried.  Tried from every direction, every angle. I can hardly see straight right now but feel the need to sit here and listen to music and Adam is watching the golf channel with no sound and sewing a sock fucking monkey for a cactus dude. I want to watch one of my rented movies but I think I need to unload a little first.

one. So for those that got the Error 404 and didn’t read the post I took down because it was an email I sent to my therapist and wasn’t all there, whatever, the gist was that my parents are separating after almost 40 years but my mom is looking to be having a another break down at present and things like two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for an emergency evacuation are being talked about the neighbors where she is holding up talking at a very fast pace and heightened pitch the ear off the wife and the husband is phoning me saying I need to go and get her just go like now and go get her. Fuck are you kidding me. AND my shrink is NOT taking my 911 and I can’t go over the bridge for an appointment tomorrow and I’m directing rage in all the wrong places but actually I’m not raging I just feel like my head is going to explode for real, there is way way too much information to process right now. Music makes it easier to keep some of this shit at bay. I have no idea what to do, I am paralyzed with fear and I always knew that if my mom came to terms or even started to come to terms with what my dad did to us that’d it would be too much and it is, oh it is. And I may just be making an emergency flight to Bali to get her this neighbor dude can apparently get her a medical visa and I can enter because I am Canadian for up to thirty days being an ex agent comes in handy but doesn’t make me want to be sitting in Hong Kong waiting for a flight having no clue where the fuck I am but going to get to Indonesia when HELLO I suffer from mental illness too, haven’t eaten in days and am on a heightened dose of medication that should have me passed out flat on my back. Absolutely no clue, just no clue how to handle this.

This is made of ridiculous, it is real but it doesn’t feel real not even typing it is making it feel real and it is so fucking real. I am glad she is leaving him but this is way more than I signed up for.

When I first found out over email from my dad that she was leaving him I got to the point of the drool cry that one step past the ugly cry. But since that very moment until this very moment I have been the sanest of the three of us. I am so seriously overwhelmed right now I can’t even express it but sleep? Forget about it. I can talk to Adam again which is fantastic like that was seriously just my normal February shit PH killed himself it is going to affect me how it fucking affects me every year and that is that, I’ll put up a warning sign next year do not disturb between January and February 4th or risk the guillotine. This year because I’ve been feeling vulnerable for a while now it crept up on me in some new but very significant ways.

So I am so stuck in the middle it is insane and I’m pissed as fuck they NOW after almost 32 years are both fucking making it about me and my dad is blaming me every chance he gets. Wow, fuck this shit. Fuck it hard.

NERD ALERT x The Notebook

So OMG I was just at Blockbuster because no I don’t get Netflix off my Xbox we only have a silver membership and shit and I was renting my regular new release I’m obsessed have to be there on release day BS and I was about to leave with my picks and then I saw it on the table I dove like a dove to grab it, caressed it, inspected it, read it, called my husband and said,”Hi baby wanna buy me a present that costs $24.99?” *insert seriously silly giggle*

He said yes and I didn’t tell him what it was he said it was ok to keep it a secret until he gets home and it is THIS:

THE NOTEBOOK LIMITED EDITION BOXSET WITH TWO BOOKMARKS YAY!
*plus other really cool silly giggle I love The Notebook stuff*

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Adam’s favourite part is when Jimmy Garner cries.

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AND it is true, behind every great love is a great story.