I was already struggling to hold back tears on the skytrain last Friday before I hit the shrink’s couch. I had noticed in the few days prior that I hadn’t been feeling as good as I have been, I know it’s (also) PMS time but I have been having a lot of trouble regulating my mood. I sat down exclaiming that I needed a break. Since the end of January it has been one bloody thing after the other with my health to the point that I STILL have a cough. I went straight from a month of Effexor (SSRI) withdrawal into a hard month with one of the worst and longest lasting head colds I’ve ever had. Admittedly, I haven’t rested like I normally would from a head cold but I have so much energy from not being on an antidepressant and only being on this Olanzapine shit that I haven’t known what to do with it all.
It isn’t the time to start adding and subtracting from the medications that I am on – Clonazepam from the day I was assaulted and now this Olanzapine. Because I’ve been so sick on and off and taking cold meds for so long – plus now my allergies have hit – we don’t have any idea exactly where my mood is and won’t until I have a couple of weeks without so many extra stimulants in my system. With the shrink’s permission, I’ve had no choice but to take an extra Clonazepam here and there on days where I just have not been able to sit in my own skin.
I haven’t taken any cold medication in about a week now, except for Buckley’s when I wake myself up coughing at night and I’m only taking one pill a day if that for my allergies so here’s to hoping that by this Friday we’ll be able to start a month fresh and actually evaluate how my mind is doing.
I’m having a tough time not being really fucking tough on myself, I’ve thrown a few fits and am so much more present while I’m losing it, and I seem to be directing all of the embarrassment and guilt back onto myself to the point that Adam has very sternly told me to STOP calling myself a loser. That led to me feeling like a bigger loser and then starting to cry because I didn’t want him to think that he couldn’t do anything right to help me because I just feel like I can’t do fuck all right, right now. It is also how I feel, I feel like a straight up loser, I feel like everything I do is wrong and I’m finding myself very confused. I’m generally rather abusive towards myself but I’m nearly plumbing new lows with the name calling and yelling at myself. I used to be able to turn off and sleep it off and that doesn’t seem to be working with this. Also, when it comes to being self critical that includes having to take an extra clonazepam, if I do have to take one then I still have to beat myself up mentally for not being able to make it through the day on my prescribed dose.
I just didn’t feel like this on antidepressants, I’m really starting to struggle with feeling great for a few days and then BAM out of nowhere I’ve got the inner monologue telling me to off myself. It is one thing to be in a depression and feel depressed and feel suicidal, I’m used to that I know what to do for that, whether I always can or could is irrelevant now but I could deal with it. This is all still so new that every negative feeling is exacerbated and feels like the end of the world and then ten minutes later I’m happy happy go go again. This very minute I feel like bursting into tears and already have a few times today. I don’t think that some sort of stable mood is too much to ask for but it fucking blows knowing I can’t have it right now.