Tuesday 1/16/24 No More School!

 School is done!! I ended up with a 95% in the class because I kind of bombed the final (got a 72% on that - every question had 2 right answers and I had to pick which one was most right, ugh). But hey - a 95% is damn good for struggling as much as I did, doubting myself as much as I did, and it being my first class in over 17 years. Go me! It's so nice to be done. Like, really nice. 

Anyway, I had therapy today and we're going to start working on my self esteem. Cause I kinda don't like myself all that much. I mean, I do, at times, but I'm really insecure, especially with how I look. Let's be honest - I could stand to lose some weight. Not just for looks - for health. On that thread, I'm starting working out again. And it's made me realize just how out of shape I am. I mean, wow. So I've got that to work on. And Becky gave me homework for our next session - to paint how I feel about myself. I have some ideas floating around . . . we'll see what I come up with. 

So yeah, that's about it. Another short post. That's okay. Maybe next week I'll have more to say. 

Monday 7/31/23 Oy Vey

 I slept like crap last night. I think I was awake more than I was asleep. And it shows. I'm super fucking cranky today and have no motivation for anything. I managed to work out and shower. Go me. I have my mammogram at 12:45 so of course I don't want to do anything until I have to leave. I have time to do stuff - I just don't want to. I have enough time to do a painting or draw or clean something . . . but instead I'm sitting here on the couch bitching. I hate feeling this way.

Last week I saw the functional medicine practitioner and had a metric fuck-ton of bloodwork drawn. Like, it was a LOT of blood drawn. When they get the results (which can take 5-10 days), he'll contact me to set up an appointment to go over it all. I'm really hoping my blood work corroborates what I'm feeling. That I get answers and solutions. For now it's a waiting game. Which, today, annoys me. 

What also annoys me, since today seems to be a bitch fest, is my bladder. Well, my whole body, really. My body doesn't seem to want to utilize the water I give it for cellular functioning. No. Instead I almost immediately pee out everything I put in. I've had a bottle and a half of water this morning and I've peed 7 times. Seven times in the last 2 hours, mind you. And I have to go again. WTF body?? You need that water!! You're telling me I'm horribly thirsty but when I drink anything, out it comes! Seriously. What the hell. And this happens all the time. Every day. To the point where I don't want to drink anything because I'm sick of how often I have to pee. Makes me worry that I'm developing diabetes or kidney disease. Because frequent urination is a symptom of both.

In other news, my mood has been sinking a little. The past 2 weeks I've been down more than not. And, yes, that annoys me. What I should do is have a ketamine infusion before I get worse. But I don't want to do that. Why? The cost. I just spent nearly $500 for my bloodwork, I don't want to spend another $300 on myself for the infusion. Which my therapist thinks is stupid. That I should schedule an infusion every 2 months or so to keep me in tip top shape. Which, yes, preventative measures make sense, but I feel selfish and like a failure if I do this. Plus the financial burden. Yes, we can afford it. But I don't want to have to have it. Maybe it's stubborn pride. I don't know. It's just that we've spent so much money on my mental health and I hate that. I feel guilty because of it. Which, in turn, makes me feel shittier. If this was for Jeremy or Ayden I'd spend the money in a heart beat. But when it comes to myself . . . I can't bring myself to do it. Like I don't deserve it. 

Anyway. I guess that's enough bitching. Here. Here's a little snow fox I painted:

I like how it turned out. And that's good, especially with how I feel today.

Wednesday 2/15/23 Ugh

 My last post was rather uplifting; this one maybe not so much. 

I don't know. We'll see. It's been a rough couple of days again. I was feeling so good last Wednesday and Thursday and then Friday BAM! Back to being down. More lost, I think. I worked Saturday and was just feeling down the whole time. Sunday I was supposed to go to a Super Bowl party with Jer at his friend's house and I ended up not going - I was NOT feeling it. Thinking about socializing with a ton of people I don't know sounded awful and made me anxious. On top of that I was feeling pretty down all day, so I didn't go. I stayed home and read. Monday I was called off. Which was probably a good thing because I had an extra day to "recover" before working yesterday. Work yesterday was stupid busy. Busy enough that I couldn't pay attention to how I was feeling. Well, except a couple of fleeting moments of down time in which I felt down and exhausted. 

So ugh. Why did I have to go from hopeful and okay back to this? It's frustrating and annoying and stupid and not fair. I'm over it.

Today is a snow day for Ayden and Jer is working from home - we got a decent amount of snow over night and it's still snowing. I'm off and have accomplished nothing except starting a load of laundry. I talked to my mom on the phone for a bit earlier and surprisingly she hadn't been drinking. Guess I caught her early enough. Now I'm just sitting here, wondering what to do with myself. I don't feel like painting or drawing or reading or anything really. I'm not necessarily down today, but I'm kind of just here. Just existing. Going through the motions. I know things I should do, but I lack any sort of drive to DO them. I've been staring off into space. Real productive. 

I probably will read though, after lunch. I'm almost through No Bad Parts (the book I ordered last week that my new therapist Becky has). It's . . . interesting. A new take on mental illness and therapy. One I'm not sure I quite swallow. The beginning of the book made some sense but the further I get into it . . . I'm not so sure. I'm not going to go into it here - it's a LOT to explain. I'm trying to keep an open mind about it as it's what we'll be doing in therapy. So we'll see how it goes. The book has exercises to do throughout. I was able to do the first two, but the next several after that? Nope. Nothing. So I don't know. Again, I'm trying to keep an open mind and remain curious. I can see how some things would be helpful but am not quite grasping other things. Time will tell.

Anyway, I'm hungry. I should probably eat something.

Thursday 2/9/23 A New Beginning

 A lot happened this week. I took my first intermittent FMLA day on Tuesday, I had another ketamine infusion yesterday, and I saw my new therapist today. Quite a bit if you ask me. 

I worked this past Sunday and had a really rough go of it. I was even disassociating, and people noticed. So I felt it was best if I had an extra day off and called in sick on Tuesday (which gives me the whole week off because I don't work again until Saturday). I felt bad calling in, but I have the FMLA for exactly this reason so I might as well use it. 

Yesterday was another ketamine infusion. My last one (2 weeks ago) was less than helpful. It was dark and heavy and overbearing and I felt anxious. Yesterday, though, was the complete opposite. It was light and airy and and colorful and comforting like a big marshmallow hug. I felt calm and warm and joyful. I left feeling hopeful. I still feel hopeful, which is wonderful. My mood was immediately lifted and I went from feeling depressed to feeling pretty okay. 

And today. Today I saw my new therapist for the first time. Her name is Becky and she's super nice. She does things quite a bit differently than Mike does, which will hopefully be a good thing. A new perspective, you know? A fresh set of eyes. I didn't know what to expect going in today. I was keeping an open mind. She had me talk about my last session with Mike which brought up tears. I wasn't expecting that, honestly. For it to still be so raw and painful. But that's grief for ya. Rears its ugly head whenever it pleases. We made a game plan of what we're going to tackle and she wants to see me every other week for a bit so we can start to build a relationship. I think this will be good for me. I ordered a book she had in her office, No Bad Parts, by Richard Schwartz. She trained under Dr. Schwartz, apparently, and uses his theory in her practice. So hey - why not read up on it?

Wow. I don't really have much more to write. I thought there would be more, I really did. Maybe that's a good thing? 

Thursday 1/26/23 The End of an Era

 I'm having a rough go of it today. Today truly is the end of an era. Today I had to say goodbye to my therapist, Mike. I knew this day was coming (he told me about his retirement in what? July? August?), but that didn't make today any easier. In fact, it's been hard as hell. I can't stop crying. It's hard to say goodbye to someone that you love. And I did love Mike. Hell, still do of course. It's just . . . now I don't get to see him anymore. He's been with me through everything. All my ups and downs (my WAY ups and my WAY downs). He's played a pivotal role in my healing over these past 10 years. It's crazy to think that I've been seeing him for 10 years. Sometimes every week. Sometimes monthly. Sometimes we'd skip 6 or 8 months. But he was always there for me, only a phone call or text away. And now . . . he's not. I didn't think it was going to hit me this hard. I didn't think that I would be crying so hard that I would hyperventilate and almost pass out. My eyes are swollen and wet (thank god for water proof mascara), they sting. I have a headache from the crying. I've been feeling emotionally fragile and now I'm just shattered. I don't know how I'm going to put the pieces together again. Sounds almost comical - I mean, it's not like I lost my husband. Mike was my therapist. But he was also a friend and a father figure for me. He's seen me at my worst and at my best. He's been my biggest cheerleader besides my husband. And I don't get to see him anymore. I'm crushed.

He didn't leave me empty handed - he's having a colleague, a lady named Becky, take over for him. I'm glad he hand picked a new therapist for me, that he knows her and likes her. That helps. But I have to start over from scratch. I have to build a new therapeutic relationship with a stranger and that's daunting. I'm starting fresh and that's scary. Jeremy has told me many times that maybe this will be a good thing, a new set of eyes, a fresh perspective. And he could be right. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm scared and grieving. 

At the end of our session today is when we talked about him retiring. I was close to tears the whole time, knowing this was coming, and then we had to bring it out in the open. I held it together in front of him. Well, kind of. I started to cry and we hugged. I lost it when I got out to my truck. I cried so hard it hurt. I cried the whole way home and I haven't really stopped. I'll be okay for a few minutes and then the tears start up again. How long is this going to hurt? Why does it have to hurt so bad?

In other news, I had my first ketamine booster infusion yesterday. It was intense - probably the most intense one I have had (and we went down in the dose). Dr. Jeff told me it would be more intense because I haven't had an infusion since October. He wasn't lying. I'm worried that having to grieve a profound loss will cancel out any positive benefits of the booster. I guess if that's the case I'll have to have a booster next month. I don't really want to but if I must, I must. 

I guess that's it then. I don't know what to do with myself. I feel utterly directionless. Lost. And profoundly sad. 

Thursday 9/22/22 Anger

 I have been getting more and more angry with every passing day. Everything makes me mad. Even stupid little things that have no meaning . . . pissed off. I shouldn't be driving because of my rage - it's bad. If no one's in the truck with me I scream and cuss and cry. If someone is in the truck with me I'm able to bottle it up but then I lose it when I get home. This is becoming unbearable. Seriously. Everything is so overwhelming right now. Even simple tasks are hard for me to do. Like filling out my passport application. Apparently that's too much for me. I had to set it aside and walk away because I couldn't handle it. Even typing this out - I misspell something and I can feel the rage surging in me. Over a fucking TYPO!!! I can't even with myself. 

And this has been getting worse over the past week and a half. Every day worse. My depression is getting worse every day. I'm not really functioning. Everything is so hard. I don't know how I'm going to go to work on Saturday. I barely made it through Tuesday. I had to hide a lot. I feel so fucking bad. I cry at everything. I can't cope with anything. And I don't know what to do or how to handle this. The depression and anger is consuming me. 

I see Dr. Marciniak next Tuesday and Mike again next Thursday. Something has to change. I can't keep doing this. I can't handle this. I can't. As far as med changes go . . . there's not really anything we can do. The Caplyta is my 24th different medication. There's nothing left. Nothing to fall back on. I'm just . . . stuck. I'm going to call today to set up a consultation with a ketamine infusion clinic. Because I can't do this anymore. 

In other news, I still have no appetite. None. I don't care if I eat or not. I've lost 7 pounds in the past 2 weeks. Because I just. Don't. Care. I can eat something or I can starve. I don't care. Nothing sounds good. I've been living on toast. Literally. Because nothing sounds good and I truly don't care. I'm at the point where I want to throw in the towel. I want to give up. That would be easier. But I can't. I have to keep going for Jer and Ayden. Even though I don't want to, I keep pushing forward. And it sucks. I'm so tired. Probably going to go on intermittent FMLA. Because how the fuck am I supposed to work like this?

So. That's where I'm at. Hating life. Hating everything.  

Thursday 9/15/22 Therapy

 I had therapy today and it was basically me crying the whole time. Seriously. And I cried this morning and while driving and after therapy when I got home. Crying is my thing today. My head hurts and my eyes are swollen and sting. Really the only time I wasn't crying was while I volunteered this morning. And even then it was touch and go.

In therapy Mike and I talked about his retirement. And how I move on. Because this is a loss I have to grieve and I'm certainly in no position to grieve a loss right now. But we talked about it and that was helpful. He has another therapist in mind for me, one with his group, and he wants to ease me into working with her. And I'm perfectly okay with that. 

Man I wish I could stop crying.

I had to call in sick yesterday because of how bad I've been. Constant crying and anger. Legit uncontrolled rage. And then I cry over that. I'm so sick of feeling this way. It needs to stop because I can't handle it. I can't keep doing this. I see Mike again in 2 weeks. I told him I would try and wear regular clothes (I wore jammie pants and a t-shirt today). 

In other news, I've been painting quite a bit, both paintings and bookmarks. I'm going to have a booth at a craft fair in December so I need inventory! I challenged myself to NOT paint anything depressing. So I've been painting scenery mostly, along with some animals. Nothing depressing so far. Go me. Sometimes painting helps calm me. It helps me to forget for a short time just how crappy I feel.

In addition to crippling depression and rage, I've lost my appetite. Nothing sounds good. I have to force myself to eat because I really don't care if I do or not. I lost 4 pounds this week, just because I'm not eating. I know this isn't good, I know I need to eat. I'm getting dizzy and light headed because of lack of calories. But I just don't care. Preparing food is too much work. It's too overwhelming. And nothing sounds good. At all. 

It's been a really rough, difficult week. I have a tattoo consult tomorrow and that's like my only thing to look forward to. I need things to look forward to to keep me going. 

That's where I'm at. And it sucks.

 

Wednesday 8/24/22 Therapy

 I just got home from my therapy appointment. And I don't know what to do with myself. It was a good appointment, talked mostly ACOA stuff. Pretty much the whole session was ACOA. Which is good, it's stuff I need to work through. My next session is in 3 weeks. I think that one will be my last session with Mike as he retires in October. *heavy sigh* I don't know what I'm going to do after that. 

Today I'm feeling pretty damn low. Very depressed. I don't want to do anything, I have no motivation. I need to clean the kitchen and bathrooms and dust . . . I need do watch more Mental and Emotional Mastery. I need to workout and read and work on my ACOA workbook. I have all these things I "need" to do and I don't want to do anything. I want to lay down and sleep. I'm so tired of being depressed. Physically, mentally, emotionally tired. I'm tired of being too tired and unmotivated to accomplish anything. I'm tired of feeling like this. I'm just tired. 

I've been on Lexapro for several weeks now and I don't think it's doing squat. I've noticed no change at all. If anything, I've been feeling a little worse. I see Marciniak next Monday, we'll see what he says I guess. I don't want to continue to take it though if it's not doing anything. That's pointless. I don't have anything else to try though - I've been on pretty much everything. Only treatment I haven't tried is ketamine. I know 3 people who have tried ketamine with mixed results. And there's problems to getting it - it's expensive and I have to find a ride home every time I go. Which I believe there's an induction phase and then a maintenance phase. I'm just not quite sure about it. My one friend who has done it says the day is pretty much wasted because you're basically sleepy and high afterwards. I don't know. I don't know what to do. 

This post is kind of jumping around. That's how my head feels. Too many trains of thought, but they're all moving so slowly. I can't concentrate. I want to go lay down. Sleep. Escape.

Wednesday 8/17/22 Mom

 So I just got off the phone with my mom and to say she annoys me is a huge understatement. She really. Fucking. Annoys me. See, my mom is an alcoholic. Has been one since before I was born. No matter what happens to her, no matter what me or my brother say, she won't stop drinking and denies that she drinks at all (she could be drinking vodka from the bottle and tell you that she doesn't drink and she would believe that lie). I hate talking to her. Especially when she's been drinking. If I do talk to her, I try to do it before 10am because there's a little less chance that she's been drinking yet (yeah - she drinks all day and night). 

I've grown up around this so you'd think I'd be used to it by now, right? Wrong. It's a chronic, insidious type of trauma, one that compounds. Most of the time I'm angry/distraught/annoyed/saddened for awhile and it passes. Sometimes it takes longer. And sometimes I spiral, remembering my childhood. At any rate, it sucks. Big time. So I really try not to talk to her. And, unfortunately, she has no friends. No one she can talk to. Her and her husband fight all the time. Her own mother is succumbing to dementia. So what does that make me? Her therapist and friend. Her confidant. A role I DON'T FUCKING WANT. And a role that it's not fair to put me in. I'm not her fucking therapist but she treats me like one. I told her today that she should go to marriage counseling, that I couldn't help her sort out her marriage. She kept venting to me. And this is while she was sober - you can't even begin to imagine what it's like when she's been drinking. I just don't answer the phone anymore. 

I'm sick of listening to her and dealing with her. I really am. I want to cut her out of my life but I can't. She's my mom and I feel horribly guilty for feeling the way I do. Cutting her out would make me feel even worse. As much as I dislike her, she's still my mom. Even though she's toxic as fuck. So I space out when she talks to me, don't fully listen, turn my attention elsewhere. Because I just can't deal. Every time we talk it's all about her anyway. She rarely asks how I'm doing or how my hubby and son - her grandson - are doing. All she talks about is how horrible her life is and how much her and her husband argue. I don't fucking care. 

And I can't bring up her alcoholism because in her mind she doesn't drink and therefore denies it and gets all offended that I would say such a thing. I can't win. I can't fucking win.

In other news, I'm still horribly depressed. My Lexapro seems to be doing nothing. I wasn't terribly hopeful that it would do anything, but still, come on. Some days I have a hard time pushing through and I end up napping. When I'm asleep at least I don't have to deal with what I'm feeling. It's my only escape. I have no motivation for anything. I have things I need to do, things that I would like to do . . . but no motivation to get anything done. I mindlessly scroll social media or I sleep. That's what I do. And it sucks. 

I have therapy next week with Mike again, and see Dr. Marciniak in 2 weeks. We'll see what's next I guess. 

Wednesday 8/3/22 Therapy

 I saw Mike this morning. It was weird - I was nervous going in. I think because I didn't know what the session was going to hold, what he wanted to talk about, etc. But all in all it was a good session. He is officially retiring in October, so I'll see him a couple more times before then so we can work out the logistics of seeing a new therapist/ease out of seeing him. I really don't want to. You know, stop seeing him. But I have no choice in the matter. *heavy sigh*

Today I got him caught up on everything that's been going on since I last saw him (like 8 weeks ago). The medication changes, work, ACOA stuff . . . we spent a good deal of time on the ACOA stuff. He thinks it's a great idea for me to be diving into it myself. But it's hard to because I've been feeling so lousy lately. I know I need to . . . it's just hard. 

I gave him his retirement card today that I made him. He saw how much writing was in it and said he wanted to read it later. Asked me if it was okay to read later. I said yes, of course, so I don't know his reaction to what I wrote. Perhaps he'll mention it at our next session (which is August 24th - 3 weeks away). I kinda hope he does. I'm curious of what his reaction will be. It's not that I want to make him feel bad - I definitely don't - it's just that I want him to know how much he means to me. And before I don't get to see him anymore I'd really like a hug. I'm a hugger. But I don't want to ask for one because what if he said no? I'd feel awkward and kind of crushed. I'll just have to feel that one out. I'm sure I'll cry at our last session. Which I'm not looking forward to. As of right now I can kind of ignore the fact that he's retiring, since I still get to see him a few more times. But at our last session . . . well, that's it. No more Mike. And that's going to be hard to stomach. It's weird to think that I have a loss coming up that I'm going to have to grieve. And I don't want to. I'm tearing up as I'm writing this, just thinking about it. Gotta be strong. 

I going to try and spend the rest of the afternoon doing my ACOA workbook. I need to get working on it. I've been putting it off and putting it off. Again, I've been so lousy lately that it just feels too heavy. But I'm going to work on it today. If I can keep myself from napping, that is. I feel like napping all. The. Time. Because it's an escape. I don't have to feel when I nap. 

Also, I'm on my last week of Pristiq. I think I have 4 or 5 days left and I'm done with it. And then I'll be on the full 20mg of Lexapro. I'm really hoping this helps. Like, really hoping. Time will tell.  

Friday 7/22/22 Retiring

 So I was at work on Wednesday, checking my email in the afternoon. I had an email from Mike (therapist), with the subject line "session". I thought oh thank God we can set up a session finally! I opened it immediately, feeling just a little giddy and excited, only to read that 1. Mike wants to know how I'm doing, and 2. he's retiring. 

Wait, what?

Retiring??? No. I must have read that wrong. I read the email again. He's retiring in October. He wants to meet to discuss this. 

Oh shit.

Seriously? Retiring? No. No, it can't be. He wants to meet August 3rd at 8am, if I can. I, of course, am scheduled to work that day. I make a decision - I'm calling in sick that day so that I can meet up with him. If not that morning, then who knows when? He's been out what, 6? 8 weeks from back surgery? I've been struggling. I need to see him. I check with a few people to see if they could possibly switch me days. No one can. Of course. So calling in it is. Which makes me feel guilty, but I have to do it. 

Then the emotions hit. I race to the break room and cry. I can't seem to stop. Luckily only one person walked in on this as I cried for 45 minutes, trying to pull myself together because I have patients to take care of dammit! 

I texted my hubby and best friend the news. They tried to help me see it in a positive light. Maybe this will be good for me, I'll get a different perspective on things. It doesn't help. See, Mike has been a solid fixture in my life for almost 10 years. Ten years. He's been there for me at my worst, he's seen me at my best. He's kept me from killing myself several times. He's always there for me. He knows me. He knows my history inside and out. I'm comfortable with him. I freaking love this man! (in a platonic way, of course). I can't imagine not being able to see him again. I know he has several therapists in his group that he can refer me to, but . . . it's just not the same. It'll be like I'm starting over from scratch. Having to rehash all of my traumas and history. Trying to build a foundation and relationship and trust with a new person. It all sounds so awful. Truly awful.

I'm trying to stay positive about this because the last thing I need is something else to cause me to spiral. But it's hard. In trying to remain positive, I decided to make him a card:

The inside:

I have to make it light. Funny, even. I don't want to let him know how much I'm reeling. I wrote a rather long paragraph in the card, thanking him for everything he's done for me. Wishing him a happy retirement. Because that's what I'm supposed to do, right? Take the high road, be an adult. Even though I don't want to be. Even though I feel lost and - almost - betrayed. 

As of right now I don't know what the future holds for me therapy wise. I'll find out August 3rd. Until then I'll just keep fumbling along, doing the best I can. It's all I can do. 

Tuesday 6/14/22 I'm An Idiot

You read that right - I'm an idiot. No really, I am. See, I got a wild hair up my ass and decided it would be a good idea to try and wean myself off of my Pristiq. I've been so blah and empty and non-feeling lately and, well, antidepressants can make you feel that way. Sooooo . . . why not try going off one of them? I tried going off Wellbutrin about a year ago because of side effects and my depression came back straight away with a vengeance. So that's a no go. My Vraylar . . . well, that's an antipsychotic keeping my mania at bay. So that leaves Pristiq. Now, I know I need to taper off slowly to avoid side effects. I'm on 100mg daily so I figured I'd just take it every other day for a week or so, then every 2 days, and so on. 

Yeah. Big mistake.

The day after I skipped a dose I had horrible withdrawal symptoms - brain zaps, dizziness, lightheadedness, headaches, and irritability. Let me tell you, it's not pleasant. At. All. Then I'd take a pill and the next day be fine. Skip a pill, withdrawal. Ugh. So I figured, why not just stop taking it all together? So I skipped 2 days in a row and let me tell you, that was hell. I worked Sunday (the day after skipping my second pill) and I was an emotional mess. I could hardly keep myself together. I was on the verge of tears all day, feeling depressed and low and awful. Brain zaps and other withdrawal symptoms were horrible. It sucked. I worked with my two best friends that day and they both reamed me for stopping medication without the help of my psychiatrist. Did I forget to mention that I did this on my own? Yeah. No input from my doc. And yeah - they were right. I was stupid in trying this myself. In listening to my sick, lying brain. But I did it. 

So Sunday night and last night I took my Pristiq. The withdrawal symptoms went away, I'm not completely, emotionally unstable. Which is good. But I'm back to blah and empty and non-feeling (although today I'm a little bit down). Which I hate. I want to be able to feel. I want a range of emotions. Not just blah, down, or irritable. So I see my psychiatrist today at 1440, and I'll talk to him about all of this and see what we can do. Because this has been going on since November of last year. Eightish months of feeling this way and I'm sick of it. I'm tired of just floating through life, barely participating, barely feeling. I want more than that. I deserve more than that. 

I am, honestly, nervous to talk with my doc today. Worried about what he'll say. Because I've been on so many medications and have done ECT and TMS already. I've tried everything but ketamine. And I'd prefer not to go there. But that may be all that's left. Or, maybe he can help me wean off of Pristiq in a way that I don't get the horrible withdrawal symptoms, and we can see how I am off of it. I don't know. I wish Mike (therapist) wasn't out on medical leave (he had major back surgery last week). I wish I could see him sooner than 6-8 weeks from now. It would help. So much. But it is what it is. I see my doc today and Mike in 6-8 weeks. Ugh. Wish me luck.

   

Monday 5/2/22 Ugh

 Welp, here we are, it's Monday. It's 11:21am and I haven't showered or even changed out of my pajamas yet. I just don't care. It seems like too much work. I know I'd feel better if I did . . . but it seems so hard. I'm pretty down today and I don't want to do anything. 

I worked yesterday and it was a rough day - mood wise. I was on the floor and my assignment was a nice one - my patients were all nice and self sufficient, and hardly needed anything from me. An easy day. Except it wasn't. I felt so down and empty and lost. I tried to read but couldn't focus. I wanted to hide from everyone. If I had been at home I would have taken a nap (or several). But I was at work and couldn't nap, so I hid and didn't really talk to anyone. Even to two friends who were working yesterday as well. Nope. Just hid in the corner and tried not to feel like crap.

And something that sucks, something that I'm "dealing with", is that I won't have therapy again for 7 weeks because Mike is having major back surgery. I'm not trying to be selfish or anything, it just sucks that I have to wait that long (or possibly even longer). Therapy last Wednesday was basically me venting about being depressed and angry at that depression and Mike trying to point out all the good in me. Trying to make me see that I'm more than just my depression. Which I know, intellectually, but it's hard to feel that when I've been feeling so low.  I'm struggling right now. I'm trying so hard not to let it show, but I'm struggling. 

Today it's windy and cold and cloudy. Tomorrow I have to go into work to be fitted again for an N95 mask (I don't want to go). Wednesday I'm on call and praying that I don't get called in. And Thursday, when I should be volunteering, I'll be at work. I'm set up for a crappy week. I work Saturday as well. It's a week I'm not looking forward to. Especially when I feel the way I do. 

I'm being very negative, I know. I'm trying not to be, but I can't help it it seems. It's hard to be positive when feeling like crap all the time. Anyway, I guess I don't have anything else to write right now. I need to eat lunch, and I need to shower. 

Wednesday 4/6/22 Therapy?

 I'm supposed to have therapy tomorrow morning at 0800. But now I'm not. Mike texted me this morning, needing to cancel and reschedule our appointment (he has a sick family member he needs to visit). Which is fine, I guess, except now I have to wait another 3 weeks. That will be 6 weeks between appointments. Which, I guess, isn't so bad. Right? It's not like I'm in crisis or something. But, truth be told, I was wanting that appointment tomorrow. Really wanting it. And now it's not for another 3 weeks. Which, let's be honest, kind of sucks. 

When I saw the text from Mike this morning my heart sank. I felt kind of crushed. I teared up. I probably would have cried if I was able to muster up any emotion. But I get it. Family comes first. I just wish it didn't make me feel so crappy. And I feel like I'm selfish for feeling this way. Which makes me feel guilty. Which makes me feel more crappy. And I'm having an off day anyway, which makes me feel crappy. And then I tried to paint and ruined a painting, which makes me feel crappy. It's all around a crappy day for me. Way to be negative, self.

Yesterday I had my first volunteering shift at the riding center. I'm a side walker right now, which means I walk along side the horse and help keep the rider stable, help keep him focused on the task at hand. The class was an hour long, from 1715 - 1815. Kind of late, but oh well. It was the only opening they had for a regular position on Tuesdays. And it was good. It was fun. At least, I say it was fun. In all actuality I'm numb and blah and withdrawn. It was better than I thought it was going to be, but I think I'm trying to convince myself that I had fun. But I got to smell the barn smells and scratch some horses and get some exercise . . . so that was good. And it's the only way I can get my foot in the door to hopefully do more with the horses (like mucking stalls and grooming). So that was yesterday. 

I'm still very much just going through the motions of life. No real joy or happiness or contentment. I feel hollow, empty, like nothing matters so why try. And it's a real shitty way to feel. I'm so sick of it. It's this constant low level depression that just won't go away. I'm unfeeling. I've been drawing and painting quite a bit, but I'm not getting pleasure out of it - I'm doing it to pass the time. It distracts me so I don't wallow in how empty and pointless I feel. I'm so hoping that being around horses again will help. Because I don't know what else to do. The only thing treatment wise I have left to try is ketamine - and I'd rather avoid that if I can. I hate feeling so numb though. Maybe I really do need to see Dr. Marciniak again, see if there's any med tweak we can try. I don't know. I'm pretty sure there isn't. Horses are kind of my last ditch effort. 

Anyway, I guess I should end this on a positive note, right? Not be so negative. So here's a couple of brush style horses I painted yesterday:

 

I really like this style. It's loose and freeing. We'll end with that. 

Thursday 3/17/22 Therapy

 Happy St Patty's Day! If you celebrate that, I guess. I don't. It's just another day for me. 

Anyway, I had therapy today and boy was it a hoot! Not really. That was sarcasm. It was difficult. Why? Because we jumped right into TRAUMA WORK. Ugh. Something that I thought we'd done in the past - which we have, a little - but now we're revisiting it because Mike thinks it will be helpful for me. 

It's interesting, because I've been reading a book on trauma (I mentioned it in my post 2 weeks ago). Trauma in dealing with my alcoholic mother and growing up in an alcoholic home, with neglect and instability. But what Mike brought up first was my rape. My rape that happened 23 or 24 years ago. Why the rape? Well, I always bring my artwork in to show Mike and he commented today that he's never seen me draw a male figure. Which I haven't. I don't. He asked why. The reason is that I don't necessarily find the male body attractive like I do the female body (no, I'm not gay). I've never drawn the male body and therefor wouldn't be very skilled at doing so. And if I'm doing art that's representing myself, it will always be female (duh!). He asked if I was afraid of what the male body represented and I was all what? *cock head to side as if trying to understand* He said that since I was raped by a man that maybe the male body (drawing it, at least) subconsciously reminds me of that. Again I was like, what? He then asked if I had ever had a flashback to that day. Which the answer is yes, yes I have. It doesn't happen often (rarely), but I have. So he said that we needed to talk about it. 

So we did. I've compartmentalized the event and shoved it far back into the recesses of my mind. When it comes up I don't deal with it - I push it away. I figured this was a good thing. But Mike (and the trauma book I'm reading) said I need to acknowledge the trauma, feel it, and work through it. Which sounds awful if you ask me. But we talked about it. And I felt sick to my stomach. And I felt anger and fear and humiliation. And then Mike centered me and grounded me back in the here and now. Remembering the rape is almost dreamlike for me. It's fuzzy around the edges. But we brought it back into focus which was pretty horrible. But then I got to move on. 

Mike then asked me about other memories, childhood memories. If they were dreamlike as well or if some were more concrete. I told him about when I was in 5th grade I got to leave school on Friday's to go to Bemis Art School. I rode a bus there. And I remember sitting with my head against the window, looking out at the road, wondering why I wasn't happy like all the other kids were. Why did I struggle? Why did I feel so bad? Mike had me do a visualization exercise. I had to imagine that I had 10 year old me sitting in my lap. He had me "hug" her and say to her what I would say to 10 year old me who was in that situation. And it felt so weird and so uncomfortable and I was self conscious. But, to my surprise, I welled up with emotion and started to cry. I started to cry, people. I haven't been able to cry for months. And I cried, "holding" this 10 year old me in my lap. Mike gave me a few minutes and then had me take some deep breaths. He had me "pull" 10 year old me into my heart and hold her there. To keep her safe and to realize that she's a part of me. I don't need to compartmentalize her and push her away. I can feel her, support her, and let her go. 

So yeah. Trauma work. It's hard. It's full of icky feels. And it's something I get to do for a while. I'm not really looking forward to it. At all. But, maybe it will help with my depression. 

In other news, nothing much else is going on. I'm painting horses, working, napping. Not much else. I have bad days and I have blah days. Blah is about as good as it gets. Blah is not fun. I don't feel much joy or happiness or contentment (not really any). Which sucks. I'm just floating along through life, trying to keep my head above water. The only thing I'm looking forward to is volunteering at the riding center (my orientation is April 2nd). Being with horses is good. They are my zen. 

Here. Have a horse to look at. This post was depressing.

Thursday 12/9/21 Therapy

 I had therapy this morning. My first therapy appointment in like a year. Crazy. It felt good. It felt like home. And I did my best to not feel like a failure, even though I do. 

But anyway, my therapist gave me homework to do. To write a letter to my depression. This was a harder task than I thought it would be. And I'm not sure why. The first letter I wrote was angry and jumped around and didn't really sound like me. Not a me I want to be, anyways. So I wrote another one. One that was more calm and matter of fact. And I felt better after writing it (whereas I felt very much not good after the first letter). Which is weird to me. Kind of. 

My therapist wants to see me back a few times to support me through this depressive episode. We might not glean much new insight, but I can use all the support I can get. Besides, it was good to see him. He's been a big part of my life the past 9 or 10 years and I was glad to see him again. 

My appetite is suffering. I don't really feel like eating anything. Nothing sounds good. Everything seems like too much work. I pick at my food. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm hungry. I'm just not really eating. Maybe I'll lose some weight. See? Positive spin. 

That's all I have for today. Nothing exciting, just a quick little blurb.  

Monday 9/14/20 Doctor Day

 I saw my psychiatrist today. And I broke the news to him that I took myself off of lithium (and have been off of lithium for about 3 weeks now).  I was a little nervous as to what he would say (seeing how I didn't consult him on it). To my surprise he was okay with it. 

See, I've had side effects from the lithium for a long time. Years. Tremors in my hands and legs, swelling in my feet and ankles, insatiable thirst (which leads to me drinking a gallon of water a day and then peeing all the time), zero libido . . . And, quite honestly, I'm tired of it. Which is why, with the blessing of my hubby, I started weaning myself off 2 months ago. I went slow, going from 3 pills to 2, from 2 to 1, and then taking 1 every other day, to finally being off of it. And so far? I feel good. No ill effects. No hypomania. My tremors are almost gone. My swelling has gone down. My libido is coming back! 

I'm still on a mood stabilizer (Vraylar) and 2 antidepressants (Pristiq and Wellbutrin). Hopefully these will keep me stable. I think they will. Dr. M and I discussed what to look for that would warrant going back on lithium (mainly hypomania) and agreed for me to see him again in 3 months unless something pops up. I'm hoping nothing pops up. I like being stable. It's a nice place to be. 

In other news, I'm still having some anger here and there. Yesterday was an anger day. Not a horrible anger day, but the anger was there, bubbling below the surface. It was also an "off" day. A day where I felt a bit down and empty on top of the anger. To put it bluntly, I hated it. I know I'm not going to be sunshine and rainbows every day - that's not realistic for anyone - but I get a little anxious in spite of myself that these days are signalling a resurgence of my depression. It's hard for me not to think like that, even when I try desperately not to. 

I'm having these days about once a week, which in my opinion is too frequently. But then, I don't know how people who don't have mental illness feel, how often they have crappy days, or what they think of them. So I'm not a good judge. But I'm pushing myself through them, reminding myself how far I've come, and that I have all the tools I need to fight these days. And in the long run, I do okay. 

Although I'd still rather not have these days at all. Oh well. I'd like to talk to my therapist about it, but sadly, I don't see him until October 8th. Ugh. He texted me today and said he needed to cancel our appointment next week and reschedule. Of course the days he's available I work. So now it's not until the 8th. That's still 3 weeks away. It's already been 5 weeks since I last saw him. This is probably the longest I've gone between sessions in the last 8 years. How freaking crazy is that?? I'll answer for you - it's freaking crazy! But also a testament to how well I'm actually doing. So I guess I'll wear that as a badge of honor.  

Thursday 7/23/20 Therapy and stuff

Hello my little weirdos! How is everyone doing today? I hope you all are doing well :)

It's been about a week and a half since I last wrote and not too much has changed. I'm still feeling pretty dang good. More than good some days (like today). I feel like myself again! Which is AMAZING! I attribute this partly to being on Wellbutrin and mostly Ty Hicks' Mental and Emotional Mastery program that I've been working. This program has opened my eyes to my own toxic habits and is helping me change them permanently. It's the bomb diggity! So yeah, feeling better.

Anyway, I had therapy today and I had a good session. M and I talked about a myriad of topics including my continued good mood, how work is going (great), and, of course, my mom. Ugh. I hate talking about her, but considering I continue to have issues with my relationship with her, I need to continue to talk about her (my mom is an alcoholic, btw, has been since before I was born). I did drop a bomb on M too - I decreased my lithium dose without consulting my psychiatrist. 

Yep. 

I decreased my own medication without talking to my doc first. Might be a stupid move, we'll find out. I've been on my lower dose for 9 days and I don't feel a difference (yet). Why did I do this? Because my tremor (a side effect of lithium) has been getting progressively worse. I didn't want to decrease my dose at the same time I was starting Wellbutrin as two med changes at the same time can be dangerous. And I didn't decrease by much. I usually take 3 tablets a day, I decreased it to 2 (the tablets are 450mg each). We'll see how this plays out. I see Dr. M in September. I'm guessing he won't be pleased. Oh well. 

That's about it. Not much this week. I'm thinking about posting some of my artwork here . . . we'll see.  

Monday 6/29/20 Therapy

So I had therapy today and it was a blast. No really. It was. But that's because I'm hypomanic. I was suspecting that I was and my therapist was like, "yeah, you definitely are."

Let's back up a minute. Last night I slept - about as well as I normally do which means waking up every hour to pee (I drink a lot of water - thanks lithium). This is important because the previous 3 nights I didn't sleep. Maybe 2-3 hours a night. And I didn't feel tired. No. I felt energized! So apparently no sleep + Wellbutrin + starting my mental and emotional mastery program = hypomanic.

You guys, I feel so amazing. Now, I'm not crazy hypomanic - I'm just mildly hypomanic. Enough to feel great and have energy and laugh hysterically for 10 minutes straight at a picture that isn't even really that funny (I did that yesterday).

So in therapy today I talked about the mastery program and spirituality and depression and showed M my latest art and talked about purpose and religion and and and . . . But I was talking really fast and flitting from topic to topic and couldn't really sit still and I was laughing. A lot. M must have gotten a kick out of me because he was laughing too. But even still, it was a good session.

Now my hope is that this hypomania sticks around. For awhile. Or forever. One of the two. (Hopefully forever).

Monday 6/15/20 Therapy

Hey there! How are y'all doing today? All of my 2 readers of this blog . . . I hope your day is splendid!

Mine, on the other hand, is not splendid. It's not terrible, but it's not splendid - not by a long shot. It's been rough. I knew it would be when I got up. Just woke up with this heaviness on my chest, in my heart and in my head. I just knew.

But I went about getting ready for the day - you know, hair, makeup, all that jazz. Well, I was almost finished when my phone rang. It was my therapist. I was supposed to have therapy at 9am - it was 8:10. My stomach sank. He's cancelling, I thought. I answered. He had a scheduling conflict and needed to reschedule . . . luckily he had an opening at one. I, of course, took it.

I had breakfast, coffee, and went downstairs to work on a painting I started last week. My emptiness was overwhelming. The depression crushing me but I carried on as if everything was okay. Hubby was working from home today and I didn't want him to worry. I didn't want to be a burden.

Let's skip ahead to therapy, shall we?

I started by telling Mike that I've not been doing well. That I'm struggling. I told him how yesterday I had an okay day but when I woke up this morning I knew. I told him about starting on Wellbutrin (we talked about my appointment with Dr. M as well). Then I had him read Saturday's blog post. We talked at length about it. I cried. Quite a bit. I'm not ashamed of that, I just didn't want to do it. I don't really like crying in front of people. Even Mike or my hubby. But boy did I.

We talked about my emptiness and how I'm trying to fill it (spirituality, relationships, books, clothes . . .). I feel I should specify relationships: I'm trying to strengthen my current relationships. I'm not whoring myself out. So stop thinking that. :) Anyway, Mike really emphasized how relationships and love are central, because the world kinda sucks and is full of suffering. Oh, gee, thanks. The world sucks huh? I knew this already though, just based on what I've gone through in my life.

So yeah, relationships and love. Got it. Spirituality can also be very important, which, yeah, I knew. That's why I'm trying to increase/expand my spirituality. Which is hard since I was never exposed to religion growing up. I've made up my own beliefs. But I'm working on this.

Honestly, none of this made me feel that much better. I mean, knowing I'm on the right path helps, I guess, but I still feel this empty void in me. And it makes me so tired. I'm tired of dealing with it. I'm just fucking tired.

We talked a little about the state of the country/world as well because that  can be stressful to be constantly bombarded with. (For future reference, I'm referring to the Covid-19 pandemic and the protests/riots for black lives matter). All of that crap. It can make one weary and I know it definitely affects me a little bit.

Therapy was difficult today. Hopefully that means it will prove to be helpful. Hopefully some nuggets of goodness are planted in the back of my head and they'll help me feel better. I'm praying for this. Maybe you could too.

Man this post seems to be a bunch of rambling. Oh well. It's good to purge.