unreasonably rational

Well, the holidays are here! My dad likes to have everybody share new year's resolutions or goals for the new year and thanksgivings ( or how we did on last year's goals). And i dread it. So i thought i'd go ahead and get the sarcastic version out of the way and hope I'm feeling better when the real day comes. Thanksgivings: I'm thankful that I'm alive - no, wait, maybe not. I'm thankful for psych meds. I just wish the ones i take would work better. I'm truly thankful that the latest medication doesn't have me lying in bed afraid I'll throw up. There! Look at that! A real whole-hearted thanksgiving! Now if only psych med conversations weren't a bit on the taboo side. But that's why I'm writing here, so i can be free of such restrictions. Goals... "Stay alive" is the one my counselor mentioned when guessing what my goals might be. Well, i was kind of in more than a bad mood, so i wasn't sure i agreed even with that. Bu...

Well, i tried the new antidepressant and i felt sick. Like bad enough i didn't want to take it again and have to work the next day. So this week, just reminding myself that I'm currently free of those side effects is enough to make me a bit happier. But i called my psychiatrist-for-now. It took him over 48 hours to call back, but he did. And he was nice. Somehow, people surprising me by how nice and understanding they are can leave me feeling almost like crying. He said if he were me, he wouldn't want to try the medication again. (He also said that medication was my last great option - if it didn't work, we have other combinations to try, so not hopeless, but as "the last great option", it would make sense to try to put up with moderate side effects. I'm not sure how disturbed i should be by that comment, so i think I'll just chalk it down as an intriguing observation.) He basically said he would respect whatever choice i made, whether to try the med...

The lady who said it even knew that looks ( sounds) aren't always accurate. But apparently i "sound good." Probably because sleepiness and cheerful sarcasm make me sound much more stable than i feel. But inside, i could cry. Except that would be too much work and emotional work. I'm... So tired. I'm physically tired. And I'm fed up with this depression stuff. I'm at the point where i feel like I'm not okay (i.e. depressed) and that's the way it's going to stay until we find a good medication combination. Okay?! Which underplays the role of therapy (but i felt like my therapist was mostly just putting in time to get me through to feeling better and then we'll do more "real" therapy work). It even underplays the chances of spontaneous recovery, seeing as depression tends to get better on its o own at some point, even if only temporarily. I'm frustrated that the new psychiatrist i saw is the stereotypical psychiatrist, not in...

I think night time is hard because it signals the end of the day, the conclusion remaining in inconclusion. The problem - whatever it is - still isn't solved. Instead, I'm still depressed, despite my strangely recurring hope that it will be gone. This depression remains, and will most likely still be with me in the morning. I get to look forward to another day with depression, and that is depressing. Well, maybe that's it. I keep trying to figure it out. Meanwhile, I'd better eat and go to sleep, since sleep can make tomorrow a little better.

So I'm back in the insert-the-worst-word-you-are-willing-to-say-out-loud-here place where i wait to find a successful medication mixture with which i can attain reasonable health. The key word, of course, being "wait." This is the lesser known waiting period that happens over and over again between starting a medication and waiting to see what will happen, and if nothing too terrible happens, then you raise the dose again and wait to see what happens. I've been in this state for over a year since the last successful medication mix. Hopefully that means that within the next two years we can find the next successful mix. That is indeed hopeful, except when the psychological pain gets to me and I've had enough. Then is that sobering moment when i realize that modern medicine... really can't do much until the correct med mix at the correct dose kicks in. Well, maybe they can, but they aren't really fond of using the quick-acting anti-anxiety medications that ...

On the positive, i got a new job. On the negative, change is still hard. Oh, and shall we mention the new theater for ocd and anxiety to perform in? I'm now a teacher's aid at a child care center. This means cleaning . Just me cleaning. When I'm around others, it is easier to prioritise ocd into the background. But just me and the room to be cleaned? I'd like to say i haven't done badly, but am reminded of when i was a kid and timed how long it took me to wash one plastic mug. Drum roll please! Doing my best to pay attention and work at a good pace (my mom attributed my slowness to me daydreaming), it took me five minutes to wash a plastic mug. Well, i wash dishes faster nowadays. (At least 5 minutes per mug is an easy record to surpass.) Lately i think indecision has slowed me down more at work. To vacuum first or mop or wash dishes or clean the bathroom or take out the garbage. All this with a breath-taking fear of making the wrong choice. Why do i care which...

My previous job ended suddenly, without warning. They wanted someone else to teach my class, so after work Friday, i was informed and handed my final paycheck. This happens, of course, two days after raising the dose of my antidepressant. This poor antidepressant is getting a pretty rough test; needing a new car, friend passing away, pet needing put to sleep, bronchitis, psychiatrist preparing to retire, and now unexpected job loss. But let's try my "cursed" summer another way. I got a nice, newer car. My friend went to be with Jesus. I got 2 new guinea pigs. I mostly recovered my health after bronchitis, and now I have the opportunity for a change of work. OCD makes for an interesting job search companion: "How about this job?" "No, you don't want that job. You might not be able to handle it. It's safer just not to apply." "Okay, I'll keep reading. How about a job in food prep?" "You're crazy, lady. We don't ...

I hate anxiety. And depression. But right now I'm busiest being mad at anxiety and the fact that i have it. Pardon my falling back to the child's protest, but, "It isn't fair!" Why do i have to deal with this anxiety if i want relief from it? Why do i have to fight it? I'm tired! I just want to sleep (but not go to bed, because then tomorrow will come, and I'm still trying to handle today). But whatever the cause, be it medication related or from work stress or from my pet dying or my coming down with bronchitis (I'm mostly recovered) or my friend passing away (now do you understand why I'm fed up with this spring/summer?), the anxiety has reached the point where the prospect of continuing as is has become more intimidating than tackling anxiety in therapy again. Which tackling i hate, by the way. So my counselor and i discussed it, and I've got one ocd exposure in process. And I've got the job of recording my anxious thoughts. She ment...

Through their magazine, i learned about NAMI's app, NAMI AIR. It lets you post anonymously, more anonymously than a blog. Much more anonymously than Facebook. But similar to Facebook, you can read posts from other people, only without a name or profile picture. Like Facebook, you can "like" something. But what about the sad posts? NAMI AIR is a step ahead of Facebook because it has a button like the "like" button that is the "hug" button. And because you don't know them and they don't know you and they can't even trace your hugs to your posts, it isn't awkward to hug a stranger. There are two more options for responses. One is to leave a hashtag comment. There is a list of phrases or words for you to choose from. The other option is the "me too" button, which in turn allows you to write a post "inspired" by the one you just said "me too" about. You can trace backwards or forwards through inspired posts. ...

Dear Louisa, i know your name isn't Louisa, but it seems a little insensitive to use your real name on a blog post. But i really am writing to you, or to the idea of you, or the memory of you, seeing as i don't know if you get to read blogs in heaven at this point. Firstly, i love you. I believe you knew that. But I'd like to tell you again, even though i understand it wouldn't change things. And Louisa, i know i haven't called for a while. We were both going through a really tough time and i wasn't sure i was up to sharing burdens with you while both of ours were so heavy. I want you to know i wasn't upset with you. It's just i needed to focus a bit more positively. But I'm not blaming you for your struggle or for saying what you did. It's just that sometimes we have to take care of our selves, first. I hope you understand. I think you would understand. But i love you so much. And you have helped me so much. And i wish I'd called you in A...

I hate depression and anxiety. Let me fill this first paragraph with nothing so you have time to leave and read a happier post if that is a better way to take care of your self. Depression and anxiety are robbers. They steal life. They steal energy. They steal joy. They steal time. They steal rest. They steal bits and pieces of life. And occasionally, they lead to the stealing of a whole life. One of my friends, who has supported me many times, has left this earth from complications of depression and anxiety, if you will. It is strange to think about, but our culture builds into feelings of guilt for survives, in a similar way to how modesty supporters add to the guilt of certain victims when they make the lady responsible for the man's thoughts in how she dresses. We broadcaste the stories about valedictorians telling how people saved their life from suicide by small acts of kindness, then command people not carry guilt for what they maybe could have done after someone does los...

My trouble with days off started when i was a kid. My mom gave us our birthdays off of chores and school work. Which was very nice and more or less the equivalent of an extra day off work as an adult. Like my three day weekend going on now. And as a child, i was glad, but then i felt all pressured to use the day just right. The perfect choice of activities. Cleaning my desk or file box. Having fun and relaxing. Perfectly, so i didn't waste my once a year day off of chores and schoolwork (i was homeschool, so even a summer birthday meant a break from school). But all this pressure and anxiety over my free time really detracted from my enjoyment. Forward to the present, this is my first long weekend since whatever time off we had for New Year's day. And i have freaked out. All that pressure like i had as a child. And it multiplies itself, because the anxiety detracts from my enjoyment, which means I'm not "doing it right," so I'm upset with myself for being up...

People sometimes recognize that mother's day can be hard if your mother has passed away. Or if you had a rough relationship with your mom. Or if you are struggling through infertility. And they should recognize this pain. But what about the single lady who just doesn't have a significant other nor a baby? What about me? What about the baby i wish i had? On Valentine's day, i still have enough single Facebook friends to see at least one post about Singles Awareness Day. And we have a cute preschool party. And i buy myself a Valentine's gift. But mother's day? I thought about buying myself flowers, but i already got some in a base from teacher appreciation week. And if i get the wrong flowers, they will aggravate my allergies. And then there is medication side effects. Specifically being very tired. If i had a baby, people would understand. But hey, i live alone. There is no good excuse, aside from maybe insomnia, which, thankfully, i don't currently have. And...

Well, i got a new-to-me car. And got my old car fixed. And I'm exhausted. The car search distracted me from my regular depression and anxiety. So now that I'm done, my old, familiar thoughts slowly filter back. At first they are like going back home or getting my old car back. They are normal, and i can actually recognize my life with them around. Then they slowly shift back to being irritating. That's just depressed thinking. Or, that's just my anxiety. Which leads to my more typical weariness as opposed to the weariness of finding and bargaining for a car, a situation that i knew would bring stress to even the most mentally healthy person out there. This morning, i got that trembly feeling that sometimes accompanies medication changes (or even taking medication late, which could be the explanation this time since i slept in). I cold hold my relaxed hand up and watch my fingers move slightly of their own accord. I find this exhausting. Maybe because i fight it, mayb...

I'm waiting to feel hungry for supper, but i keep eating more Easter candy. Somehow i think I'm working against myself here. The latest SNRI might possibly be working. It for sure seems to make me tired and more able to fall asleep. And then there is the monkey wrench. My dear old car broke. To the unsafe-to-drive point. To the point where the mechanic and my brother-in-law both suggest i begin looking for a new car. Now, my car is a very important part of my normal. It gives me the freedom to leave my apartment whenever i choose. It carries a collection of items that i either never brought into my apartment or that i intentionally keep in my car in case i need them while I'm out. But I'm looking to replace my car now. So part of me wants to search for this car with the tenacity of an obsessive compulsion.and another part of me wants to forget about it (avoidance, anyone?). And instead, I'm trying to strike a balance between searching for a car and giving my...

Words from Bill Gaither's song, "Because He Lives," are pretty popular among my Facebook friends right now. "Because he lives I can face tomorrow..." Basically, if i was a believer without depression or anxiety, it would be a lovely song. It still is a lovely song, but if I were to rewrite it today, it would go more like, " 'Because He Lives,' i will drag myself out of bed tomorrow even when i won't want to. Because he lives, I'll choose to keep putting one foot in front of the other, however slowly, but i won't quit, at least not permanently. And I'm going to trust Him despite all my feelings to the contrary and even feeling mad at Him, knowing that on some unforeseeable day in the future, either here or in heaven, my depression will lift and I'll be better able to appreciate that Jesus is alive again. I think you would have to turn it into a rap song to fit all those words in there. Actually, I've had a pretty good day. I ...

I recently melted down at church. I blame it on the medication. :) And someone took the time to talk to me and try to help. I'm pretty sure she won't find this blog at this point, but just in case; thank you. Your care meant a lot to me. And even though it got me thinking on things people have said to me that were very well meaning but perhaps a bit misinformed, i would far rather you say not quite the right thing than nothing at all. Actually, that is probably the most important point of this whole blog post. So feel free to stop reading now. A good question is, "are you okay?" "do you mind me asking what is wrong?" "what's wrong?" This is my opinion, of course, so others might feel differently about the question. But me? Even if i don't know what's wrong, I'd probably like to tell you that. It's a very frustrating problem not knowing what is wrong with me. And i might have a guess of what's wrong (I'm exhausted; i ...

Sometimes doing crafts helps. (I tried to upload a picture of my newest creation, but i failed several times and it is almost midnight.) (And I've started the new antidepressant and am on edge and think that might be the medication. This could be a placebo side effect. Actually, I'm surprised such placebo side effects aren't even more common, considering the distorted thinking characteristic of depression and anxiety.) Making an Easter basket helps, too. It might (not) surprise you, but my scrupulosity ocd (or my growing up experiences as seen through a child's distorting eyes - i.e. what i learned may not have between what was intended) does not approve of my having an Easter basket or candy-filled eggs. And the stuffed lamby on top might be even worse. But me? I'm getting some pleasure out of it, which is pretty valuable right now. (I also tried uploading a picture of my cute Easter basket with a stuffed lamby on top, but i failed at that several times. O...

I've swallowed the first dose of my latest antidepressant medication. Because i can't remember what I've already written on my blog and because my phone is not loading did previous posts for me to check, I'll back up a bit. The last medication that i was on, i was on it for just under two weeks. It made me sick to my stomach, along with probably adding to my tiredness, and possibly messing with my mood in a negative way (more likely the side effects messed with my mood). So now I've been off of that antidepressant for a week and have picked up the next one my Dr prescribed. And now I've taken the first dose. Will it make me more tired or more awake? Should i take it in the morning or evening? Will it give me any of the standard side effects? Will it give me the opposite of the typical side effects? Will it help my depression? My anxiety? Will it do nothing at all? We'll have to wait and see. In the mean time, I think I'll test out whether or not it wil...

This morning, i actually woke up. Not just the half awake where you stumble through the morning routine with your head in a fog. Actually awake. Maybe a bit of my excessive sleepiness will go away as i get off of the last two antidepressant fails. Then again, I'm still sitting on my couch as the freshly dried laundry gets cold. And my bills sit beside me waiting to be paid. Which doesn't mean I'm not less sleepy (how about a triple negative). Just means my whole life didn't magically sort out in 24 hours. Which would make me suspicious. Well, one of the most recent things I've learned from The Mindfulness-based Cognitive Therapy Workbook (or whatever it's called; you get the idea) it's that i can intentionally do small tasks like picking up a few items around the house or paying bills to make myself feel better. I feel accomplished then, even if in just a small way. It is also a good distraction... I've used this technique to get past a crying spell ...

And.... the next antidepressant strikes out, due to persistent nausea. It could have been worse; it could have stuck with me 24hrs a day. It could have made me feel sicker than it did. But it was bad enough that i left work early thinking i had the flu. (The psychiatrist did not think it was the flu, though. But my "what if" skills are still good enough for me to almost simultaneously worry that i actually have the stomach flu and will spread germs to others, and worry that i left work early when i wouldn't actually have thrown up, and thus could still have worked. P.S. if any readers are my co-workers; yes, i really did feel nauseous. And still do off and on. But I'm pretty sure it is a non-contagious medication side effect.) Anyway, the Dr told me to stop taking this antidepressant. I'm hoping that means tomorrow will be a better day. And while I'm at it, I'm hoping that my extra extra tiredness will go away (i.e. be a disappearing side effect instead ...

And.... perfectionism strikes again. (Oh, but i can't write another blog post now; it won't be good enough. Besides, what do i have to say that i haven't already said?)  Hmm... maybe i don't have much to say. That's okay. That is perfect for an imperfect post! I am not thinking as straight as usual today. Despite sleeping the approved 8 hours last night. But I'd better head to bed tonight, just in case it will help me tomorrow.

Wow, it's been months since I've posted. I started a new ssri this fall, worked up to the maximum dosage the Dr. would prescribe for me, still rated in the moderately depressed range (well, i had one good week, but evening it out with the week before, i still landed in moderate), and now I'm getting off that ssri and on a new antidepressant. This one is new enough that it is not available as a genetic, at least not in my country. This one also has the super-power of making me feel like i have a mild case of the flu while permitting me to not be contagious. In other words, it makes me nauseous and slightly dizzy at times. And exhausted, although i don't know if that is from the medication or the depression that the medication is supposed to treat. In other words, unpleasant side effects. And how am i? Grumpy. Why did the depression have to come back. I mean, my past run-ins with depression were long enough. I had gotten better enough to hope that i was past the medic...