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Showing posts from February, 2011

rough week

By Thursday, I was definately falling apart, and I knew it. So I went to my therapist, kept it together (mostly) until the visitor left, and then cried. I actually sort of wanted to go back to the hospital. And my therapist was concerned enough that she didn't let me drive home; a friend drove me home to pick up some stuff and then I stayed at another friend's house. Because I couldn't kill myself there. It helped so much to be there where I had few worries (don't worry; I still got good milage out of some of the little worries), a place where I felt safe from myself. Friday, I saw Mr. Psychiatrist, and the "in the hospital or out of the hospital for the med. change" conversation came up. Once again, staying with friends saved me from the ER. Now I'm on yet another med, plus doubling one I was already on (excuse me when I almost fall asleep). Not off of any. But whether the break or the med change or both are responsible, now I am closer to feeling stable.
Today I: Worked late. Signed a document saying that I'll pay back the money I owe the county for paying the hospital on my behalf when I went to the ER and stayed in the behavioral health unit without insurance. Am attempting homework. While my brain is feeling hopeless. As if homework wasn't hard enough without a side monologue about life and mental illness... And today, when the kids at work kept crying, there came a point when I wanted to cry, too. And I guess I should really do that homework. Bribery (no, "incentives, natural favorable consequences"): if I finish my homework, I can write another blog entry.
Will have to return guinnea pig harness. But traveled out of state (same as I do for my therapist and psychiatrist; don't be too impressed) to find one in an acceptable color that should fit him. It's red, NOT pink. And got an idea to make him a soft, comfy bed out of scrap fabric and stuffing from an old pillow... Anything to keep my brain positively engaged. Or even just to keep it from going down the scary path. Oh, depression, how I love (hate) thee. And with ocd added in, it's just fabulous (awful). But I made it to church. I made it to the pet store. I ate lunch (so it was junk food; I still ate!). I went to the library. These activities are called "steps in the right direction", which are equated with "successes". Just ask my therapist. I'm still so tired. The kind of tired that two long restless nights don't erase (what? you're not surprised?). A new fabulous realization is... people actually see my smile and think it means I'm do

another tired saturday

Today, I bought Friedrick, my guinnea pig, a harness so I could take him outside or something. It's too big, though, but I didn't want to get him the pink one. So I'll have to see if the big one works or if I'll have to return it. Yesterday I saw Mr. Psychiatrist again. He told me I needed to sleep to get better. Novel thought. So I'm taking Lorazepam at night to slow my brain down so I can sleep. Somehow last night was plenty restless even with Lorazepam. What am I doing wrong? I asked that in tears over the phone to a friend. What am I doing wrong? And she said, nothing. The thoughts that jump around my brain aren't there because I'm sinning. I wonder if I could quite believe that. Surely it is evidence of deep and rebellious sin that my brain thinks such thoughts (typical of moderate or severe depression). Or maybe not. I just read someone else's post about being compassionate to ourselves. That's hard. Do you know how exhausting it is to be afrai

tired Saturday

I saw Mr. Psychiatrist and he changed my dose and wants to see me next week. I like that. A week seems so much more doable than two weeks, which is still so much more doable than a month. Because I can make it for a week. Mr. Psychiatrist took perhaps a more serious view than Ms. Therapist. And I think I side with him (but after all, I'm good at taking the scareyer view). So I'm busy being med-compliant and treatment-compliant. That means (to me) that I'm commited to getting help when I need it and taking action to keep myself healthy (such as watching a movie, reading a book, going to the store, etc., for my mental health). Exposure Response Prevention? Some day, some day, maybe. For now, I'm just keeping going. Last night my ear kept me awake. I thought to myself that maybe if my ear didn't hurt OR my brain wasn't so agitated, I could sleep, but as it was, it was a chore to fall asleep. And I had been planning on catching up on sleep today! So instead I'm

don't research

I ... do research. Even when I KNOW I shouldn't. And then, I've done plenty of research before becoming as knowledgeable about ocd and the danger of researching, so I can still get lots of ocd milage off of that (such as, did you know that such-and-such allergy medication that I take can lead to such-and-such serious problem... and today the dr. said, that's really not likely. Oh.). Anyway, Wednesday's research was enough to really freak me out. I KNEW I shouldn't do it, but I did it anyway. Many tears later and finally talking to my counselor today, the world turned right side up again. And here's my scarey obsession.... please don't over-react - you can research it and find that it is not abnormal for people with more "pure-o" ocd... then again, if you have this, you might not want to research it... the obsession of ending my life. Not so different from all the other obsessions. I'm afraid I'll make somebody sick. I'm afraid that poth
Another day. Today I got off work early! Which is good, because I think a little less stress in my day might be helpful. I overheard a conversation in which it sounded like taking medication for anxiety was as effective as the right antibiotic for a sinus infection. I felt like that was unfair. Maybe it happens for some people, and I'm glad for them. Then there are the others of us who try multiple medications before finding a good fit. And I know, there are others who don't find a good fit. I'm still hoping I'm not one of those. I want medication to work for me. As I mentioned, I'm switching my SSRI from fluoxatine to fluvoxamine (if I got their names right). This is a change that I wanted. But it has left me feeling like I felt in the dark months of September and October, no longer "stable." I guess that makes sense. Suppose the fluoxatine did do some good even though it didn't get me better than moderately depressed. Then going off of it, I could ex
happy Sunday. To you. I'm having a bad day. Got myself to actually go to Sunday School (i.e., not sleep in so late), but then I was sitting there going cross-eyed (which happens when I'm really tired). My counselor didn't like my "this good thing happened, but ..." style of writing. She wants me to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. I think it's ocd bugging me right now, but I'm not possitive (haha, that makes it even more likely to be ocd, doesn't it?). Distraction seems to work best. Watch a movie, read a book, sleep. But my sleep has changed. To waking up multiple times and dreaming disturbing dreams. Shall I blame this on the new medication, transitioning off of Prozac, my cold, or something else? Who knows. But Friday I see my psychiatrist again. I can manage until Friday. Right? Or maybe I should resort back to the "call a friend" method. Find somebody who isn't already busy on Super Bowl Sunday? It's the good old, I-feel-
I got the oil changed in my car. I know that doesn't sound like much. Especially since I just went to one of those quick places and they did the work. Then I told a few friends, and I was so proud of myself because I had actually taken my car in to get the oil changed and they looked at me like, "what on earth could be scarey about that?" I talked to my counselor about it today, and she said it made perfect sense that it scared me with my ocd and that it made perfect sense that my friends wouldn't understand because they don't have ocd. Simple, really. ? Now I got another cold. I was healthy for two or three days this weekend, in case anyone wonders. Really. So it didn't last... oh, well. I have a test tonight. And yes, I'm a bit worried. Because I probably won't get 100% and I like to get at least 96% but I probably won't get that either. Because it's not multiple choice and the teacher isn't the easiest grader. But I'll work on being