I think the med withdrawal is pretty much over, but I am so sick. I can’t eat anything. I get hungry, I eat, it comes back up. Every time. I’m sure it’s stress. Right now I’m sitting here trying so hard not to vomit because I have anti-anxiety meds in my stomach and I need them.
Yesterday was unbelievably high-anxiety and volatile. I won’t get into it because I’ll just go insane. Trying to find the lessons in all of this. Failing.
Oh, also, I’ve been up working since 3:00am.
I’m so angry. I’ve been angry for about two weeks but today I’m so, so angry. My therapist said I’m angry at my depression and my brain. True, but I’m also angry at the stupid idiots that surround me. I’m angry at the people that don’t give a shit. I’m angry at the people that treat me like gold one day and dog shit the next. I’m angry at the people that don’t try hard enough. I’m angry at the entitled little bitch on my roller derby team. And most of all, I’M ANGRY THAT I CARE.
No changes since my last update. I’m unable to skate because of dizziness/vertigo, which excludes exercise as a therapy. It sucks, to put it lightly. Night time is the worst. That’s when the worst parts of my brain wake up. I wish they would STFU, honestly.
Just wanted to check in. Thanks for all your kind words.
Not much improvement. Going through a medication withdrawal unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Google “Cymbalta withdrawal” and be amazed at what kinds of poison people like me are willing to ingest out of desperation. Also noted — my psychiatrist never mentioned what to expect in terms of side effects or withdrawal effects. He handed me an Rx and said, “See you next month.” He is no longer my psychiatrist.
I was supposed to start treatment (9 hours per week) yesterday. After meeting with THEIR psychiatrist, I decided it was not the right place for me after she suggested that I should get electroshock treatments. After knowing my history for fifteen minutes. I was so taken aback, so terrified, and so “WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK” that I decided not to return. I hope to speak to my regular therapist today to inform her about my experience and discuss other options. Also, I am lucky to have a close friend who is a psychiatrist and has offered to help me manage the medication end of things. I trust her, I know she has my best interests in mind, and I believe she will listen to my concerns.
The withdrawal is awful and I want it to end. I don’t remember the person I used to be. The person I am now is a staggering zombie with occasional outbursts of anger, thoughts of worthlessness, and hell-bent in pushing everyone who cares about me away. This actually is a common thread in my life. I make you reject me before you figure it out for yourself and surprise me. It’s a victim and manipulative mentality, and I know it comes from my crippling fear of abandonment paired with my inability to ask people for what I need. Right now I am unable to keep it in check because my brain is constantly bouncing around in my head.
I miss me.
I am going back into a more intensive treatment next week. Not inpatient; just longer and more frequent sessions. It remains to be seen how much it will interfere with my work. I am getting a new psychiatrist. I have come to distrust mine immensely. I believe this last med he put me on has made me 100 times worse and has also caused physical problems. I am stopping taking it today. I’ve done the research. I have not left the house in three days. I went to derby practice Friday night and lasted about 10-15 minutes before taking a fall and then having a complete breakdown in the locker room. I’m no good to anybody right now. I spend all day in bed. I don’t want to see anyone. I’m not eating much because I don’t have the energy to make anything. Trying to sleep as much as I can because being awake is just constant misery. I have to have hope for this new round of treatment. The past few years of my life have been an utter waste. And every time I think about it, I feel worse.
My boyfriend and I broke up this week. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever had to do, cause someone else pain, someone that I love. I can’t stop crying every time I think about it.
I made a last-ditch effort to try and save a friendship that had somehow fallen apart, even as I continually scrambled to put it back together. His silence and complete disregard for the messages I sent have finally gotten it through my thick skull that my friendship is unwanted. Sometimes I think I imagined our entire friendship; that’s how completely and mysteriously he disappeared.
Another friend ended a relationship with me today because apparently he doesn’t want to take the time to make it work. It’s interesting…yesterday he told me how much he cares about me as a person. Today he told me that he doesn’t want to be friends anymore because it’s too hard. Maybe it is. Or maybe that’s what it says about him.
I know I have other friends, others that love and care about me…but when you’ve invested time and affection into people and they just walk away…it’s almost too much to bear. Especially the day after what would have been your eighth anniversary had your husband not up and left you.
Tonight I feel completely worthless. I have nothing left to give anyone. Whatever I’m given, I ruin. Whatever I invest in, I’m betrayed by it. There’s only so much one person can stand. How I am still upright is beyond me. I’m so fucking tired.
EDITED TO ADD: And people are tired of me being sad. People think you can choose to be happy. I can put on a brave face just like everyone else, but that doesn’t mean I’m “cured.” But nobody knows what to say to me anymore. Which makes me not want to talk anymore. This is why depressed people isolate. And that’s why these sad words come vomiting out of my keyboard. Otherwise they’ll poison me. Ugh, dramatic.
I had four and a half days with absolutely no depression or anxiety. It was wonderful.
Then yesterday it all came back. I’m heartbroken and frustrated and angry. I’m trying to fight it but it keeps crawling back. I’m sick of my doctor throwing medication at me to see what sticks. It’s wreaking hell on my body.
I don’t know what to do anymore. Obviously I need to take some control, but I don’t know how. I’m seeing a therapist and maybe she can help me learn how, but when I am this anxious, it’s hard for me to concentrate and focus. It’s hard for me to do ANYTHING. And I have a lot of thinking to do.
Feeling a bit better but the anxiety is sticking around. Had a couple good days, now the anxiousness is back. Ugh. Managed to go to derby practice last night, which was good, but jacked up my bad knee, which wasn’t so good. It’s very minor, though — some ice and rest and I should be fine for practice tomorrow. Just have to try to keep moving, I suppose, although all I want to do is sleep.
The increase in meds hasn’t done anything; in fact, I feel worse. Talked to my psychdoc today and he’s upped the dosage of one of my other meds.
Hello, I am Freakgirl and I am a human lab rat. Just trying to find my fucking cheese.
It’s been almost a week since my doc increased the dosage on one of my medications. For the past five days or so I’ve been a complete mess. High levels of anxiety, crying spells, a bit of dizziness, headaches, and no desire to see a single person. I am more than lucky that my boss has allowed me to work at home this week. I’ve actually gotten a lot accomplished here in the silence and I feel safer knowing that I can just start to cry if I need to.
I don’t feel so existentially worthless as I did, and I never felt unloved, but I still feel draped in grief. Sometimes I wish I weren’t here, not because I don’t want to live, but because I don’t want to feel. I understand that it takes a while for meds to start working, and I also understand that they may not work at all and we’ll have to start over. I am hanging in there — more like clinging — because I have to believe this won’t last forever. I am starting to have a lot of anger about this. Anger that my brain doesn’t work properly. Anger that we haven’t found a solution yet. Anger that some people believe I’m just not trying hard enough. Angry at people who think I just need to “cheer up.” I don’t like feeling angry, especially over things I can’t control.
I learned many skills in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy about identifying my thoughts, understanding how my behaviors come from those thoughts, and then letting them go. It is hard work. I’m very confused sometimes because I can’t figure out where the anxiety/depression is coming from. But I think at least I am getting a little bit of a handle on the negative self-talk. By that I mean I recognize it when I do it, and try to stop it right there.
Again, as I’ve said before, I share this with you because I know some of you need to hear it. And it’s therapeutic for me to tell it to you. Thank you, as always, for listening.