11/15/17

It's been awhile and there's been a pretty big change. Last week, on Monday the 6th I had ECT and therapy. Then on Tuesday the 7th I had an appointment with Dr. M and he changed up my meds. I'm weaning off of my Latuda (tonight will be my last night of it) and he started me on a new medication called Vraylar. And let me tell you, there's been a change in how I'm feeling. I mostly feel normal, good, fine. I've had some hypomania and some anger and anxiety, but for the most part I'm normal. No depression.

Now that I've gotten that out, I want to talk about what's also been going on. Namely, a ridiculous increase in hallucinations and a resurgence of delusions. So much fun. And wanting to smoke and cut. There's that too. (and I have cut)

Hallucinations! I see shadow figures almost everywhere, in my bedroom, in my bathroom, out and about. These include humanoid shadows and also animal shadows (mostly canid or bear). I've seen Cliff (old man), though not frequently. I saw a hovering car, bugs crawling all over the mirror and computer screen, and a large mouse which poof! Vanished. I know these are hallucinations and for the most part they aren't bothersome.

Delusions! The delusions are another story. And still, I know they're delusions but they often scare me. I'm convinced that there is going to be a man standing outside my truck door when I get home at night and he is going to grab me. I'm so anxious to leave my truck at night. I am convinced that something is going to grab me as I'm getting into bed the first time at night. I literally jump into bed to avoid being grabbed. And if I get up to pee? I'm fine. Nothing will grab me. It's only that first time getting into bed. When I shower in the morning and I wash my face I close my eyes to rinse off so soap and water doesn't get in them. Now I have to rinse as fast as I can and I actually scream and flail my arms around as I'm convinced there's someone there and they're going to grab me. I know that there's no one there, but my brain has convinced me otherwise. This is very much not fun.

And then wanting to cut and wanting to smoke . . . good God, seriously? I want to carve up my arm. I want to cut my wrist and see how much I bleed. This is not normal. And I want to smoke. I smoked 20 years ago but I'm craving it again. Even if it's just an E-cigarette. Weird.

I'm guessing I just need to give this med change more time, see how things go. I have ECT again Dec. 4th and see Dr. M in office again on Dec. 11th.

10/19/17

I'm in a bit of a rough spot right now and have been for the past several weeks. I went into a depression about a month and a half ago which lasted about 3 weeks. I seemed to be coming out of it, at least for a few days, but then BOOM I'm thrown into rapid cycling. I've been rapid cycling for alost 2 weeks now. The real shitty thing though? I'm not getting happy - meaning I'm not getting euphorically manic or hypomanic. No. Lucky me I get anxious, racing thoughts, and irrational anger. That's my reprieve from depression.

I'm feeling so lost and hopeless and empty. I feel as though nothing matters and everything is pointless. I feel like I'm a burden to everyone. I have intrusive negative thoughts that I constantly have to battle in my mind. I don't know what to do anymore. It doesn't seem like anything is helping. I take my meds, I have ECT, I go to therapy, I go to support group, talk to my hubby and friends, do all of the CBT and DBT stuff that I've learned over the years, listen to music, sleep, journal, exercise, eat healthy . . . what more can I do? My therapist thinks I'm delusional because of the thoughts I'm having. Great. I tried to make an appointment with my psychiatrist but the earliest I can get in is Nov. 16th. I was told if I need help sooner to go to the hospital. Seriously? That's what I'm trying to avoid.

I'm just at such a loss right now. I don't know what to say. It doesn't help that ECT took away my ability to write eloquently. Now I'm left stumbling over words, trying to make sense of the jumbled mess inside my head.

Weak

I'm feeling pretty weak, which is pretty fucking annoying. Everyone always tells me how strong I am . . . well, I don't feel that way. I feel like I've been struggling more and more, simple tasks are becoming harder to do.

Example?

Okay. Yesterday I showered, got dressed, and then dried my hair. And after I dried my hair, I had to lay down on the bed for like 20 minutes because I was too overwhelmed to put on my makeup. Then I had to psych myself up to get up and put on makeup. Then hubs and I went out to run errands. Stopped by a few stores, went grocery shopping . . . and I was completely and utterly exhausted. Thank god we were going home to watch football because I wouldn't have been able to handle anything else. Like painting my nails. I painted my nails and almost couldn't handle it.

And there's countless examples recently of my inability to handle shit. Dropping off my son at grandma's house and having hubs walk him in because it's too overwhelming to socialize, requesting to work Christmas eve so that I don't have to go to church because I know I won't make it through the whole service (probably not even half - just thinking about it fills me with so much anxiety it's ridiculous), breaking down at work or becoming so withdrawn people notice something is wrong (I'm a nurse people, this isn't good).

We leave the house to go somewhere and I become anxious - sometimes to the point of panic. Someone stands behind me in line and I get anxious. Certain vehicles driving fill me with anxiety and dread (because I have delusions). I often have to nap during the day because I don't know how I can possibly make it through the day - I'm either anxious or overwhelmed or exhausted or depressed.

None of this leaves me feeling strong. I actually feel weaker than I've ever been. I mean, in the past I've worked, I've plowed on through, I've just done it and now I'm looking into disability. I just, I feel fucking weak. Puny. Pathetic. I can't handle shit.

And I really fucking hate that.

Am I Flying?

No, motherfucker, you're not really flying.

But sometimes it kinda feels like I am. Why? Because I'm delusional.

Which is bad.

But I know I'm delusional.

Which is good.

See, knowing I'm delusional means I can manage it. I can counter the delusional thinking, keep myself grounded (literally and figuratively), and better be aware of how I'm acting and what I'm saying. My delusions right now aren't all that bad, really. I feel like I'm not real - I don't really exist. OR, like nothing else is real - therefor everything is pointless and stupid because it doesn't really exist. OR, like I'm outside my body, floating above it looking down. I'm watching myself do things but I'm not really doing them. The floating feeling is strong. Very strong.

And I'm at work while this is going on. Which, really, isn't good. But again, I know I'm delusional, so that helps. I think I'm doing a pretty good job of hiding it, or playing it off. My best friend and coworker, L, says not so much. But she knows me and all my little quirks. Of COURSE she's going to know if something is off! Though how she describes it . . . "you could see you starting to withdraw, starting to disappear. And then . . . you were just gone. There was nothing left. And that's when I worried." I came back, according to her, but while I was gone it wasn't good.

That's a little disconcerting to hear. Makes me wonder if other people truly can tell. If so, no one says anything.

Anyway, I don't like being delusional. I just want to be okay. I want to have a normal rang of emotions - no extremes like I have now. Just be okay, go about my life, and not have to constantly be on alert. Not constantly have to battle my own thoughts. Not constantly struggle. That would be real fucking nice.