Daily Archives: November 24, 2012

Writing

Oh okay, I completely failed at blogging here this month, but on the other hand? I’ve ‘won’ NaNoWrimo; I passed 50,000 words this afternoon. There’s still some writing to be done before the story is done, but wow… just wow.

Besides the amazing fact that I’ve gone from maybe writing a 1,500 short story piece to 50k+, my stability this month has been ridiculous. I’ve had a few minute moments of snappishness, but for the most part I have been doing pretty darn well. I’m sleeping well, I’m well… I’m not cognating great right now ’cause there’s a bit of a vicious head cold going on, but besides that, it’s just been… amazing.

I don’t trust this to last, of course. My life, my curse, my love, but none of these things are stability. I am hoping that she will be my partner in things now, that my dose of Seroquel is in just the right place to enable me to harness my abilities and talents and do. Besides NaNoWriMo, I’ve managed to turn out some crochet projects, spend some good time playing with my child, and generally living. The writing has taken place around these things. I’m trying so hard to not overdo, because I am terrible at that and it definitely burns through spoons I don’t actually have.

On a tangent, I received a courtesy copy of a letter from my psychiatrist to my GP. He was just letting my GP know that he’s going to make with the referral down to London forto get the yay/nay on whether or not I have ADHD. I’m not sure when that appointment will actually occur because it’ll probably take months to get the funding and the approval, but at least he’s working for me. The letter made me smile, as he referred to me as ‘extremely pleasant’. I like it when my pleasantness is recognized. I like it when a doctor makes the effort to recognize that I am doing my best to be cooperative and not a pain. I am especially grateful that this one sees both of those things, and doesn’t try to write me off as attention-seeking, or making up crap. I’m not — I am suffering and suffered in silence most of my life. I needed help, and I am grateful to have it. As Heatherbat pointed out when we were talking the other day, I am a victim of my own competence and self-control. It makes it seem like I’ve got it together, and lo how many times that has backfired on me… but that’s for another day. For now, I’mma get my Sims on.

<3

Getting my ass kicked by the medi-go-round

Long time, no post, I know.

Since I started coming off the Effexor and was put on Wellbutrin, life has gone to hell in a handbasket.

Counselor and doctor swear the agressive angry tear soaked tantrums I’ve been having for six weeks are from Effexor withdrawal.

I think they are full of shit and I have pretty much put it to the test by stopping the Wellbutrin without dr approval.

Oh,sure Effexor withdrawal blows, the lethargy and brain zaps and mental confusion are soul sucking.

But…it’s been five days and I have not had another screaming mimi tearfest.

I am still weaning off Effexor, I just nixed the Wellbutrin. Primary problem seems to be going away.

Well, except for yesterday, but that was more internal anger, which coincides every single month with the curse, so I chalk that up to hormones. Though the pms-anger really isn’t something people should joke about. It’s like a fever of unknown origin burning through your entire system. Not pleasant.

But I have not been screaming, bashing my head into walls, throwing shit and acting like an all around psychopath.

Improvement.

I am still so low I’d have to look up to see a snake’s belly but choosing depression over a drug that makes you act like Linda Blair in the exorcist seems wiser to me.

Besides, it’s the seasonal affect disorder in all its glory with the added strain of holidays and financial stress on top of it all, so I am actually exactly on track for where I am mentally every other year in history at this time.

Not a comfort, but keeping the status quo, yada yada.

I called the dr office and told them I want off the Wellbutrin. (You can never be honest with doctors, that;s just crazy talk, cos they know everything and all their books and literature are far more accurate on drug side effects than ya know, the person taking the drug having them.) Of course with the holiday dr is out of office,so I await their call. Knowing this woman, she will insist I stay on the Wellbutrin.

Not fucking happening.

I have never had such a side effect from a med before.

I have,however, been through Effexor withdrawal three times, and I know all about the brain zaps, the exhaustion, the confusion of reality versus mental state, potential auditory and visual hallucinations, the paranoia, the panic, the terror.

Never once was I homicidally angry.

I didn’t rule it out, that was why I stayed on the Wellbutrin, lest it just be my hubris at work.

Having proven it to myself by ceasing the Welbutrin, I am convinced.

I hate this shit. Fucking hate it. Lately I have been wondering if I shouldn’t just try to exist on the Lamictal alone. This whole anti depressant route has never ever worked out for me, ever.

Maybe I’m not depressed,maybe this downtrodden life-is-not-worth-living thing is just my normal state of mental being.

The dark hours, where all will to live seeps out of  me and I start fantasizing about passive ways to just cease to exist (God knows you can’t mention the word suicide, because no matter how bad you feel, that’s an unacceptable thing to ponder, ever.) The dark hours tell me I need something extra to help me out of the rabbit hole.

But what?

I have tried about everything. And the ones I haven’t tried are the ones my insurance won’t pay for it.

So what’s left?

I guess surviving Effexor withdrawal and the holidays need to be my priorities right now.

Then deal with the doctor trying to shove anti psychotics on me. I’m not psychotic,or wasn’t until I married the Donor or took Wellbutrin. (small joke.) I understand the cross labeling and uses for different conditions, blah blah blah.

But I have tried several of those and other than making me even heavier than I am and putting me into a coma for 12 hours a day, they didn’t fuckin g help at all.

Do these doctors even have a clue what antipsychotics do to a person? Oh, sure, they’ve come along way, in as much most don’t turn you into a drooling zombie these days.

But if you are heavy to begin with, constantly battling people and doctors nagging you about how you have to lose some weight then you go taking a med that puts 20-30 pounds on you even if you eat nothing but water and live on a treadmill…That’s worse for your condition, not better.

Not to mention the sleepiness and mental fog and the fact,in my case, THAT THEY DO NOT FUCKING WORK.

Gahhhhh.. I am so frustrated.

I keep putting on the normal functional person mask every day, and I get more resentful every day I have to do it. It makes me aware that I have NO friends or caring family members or otherwise I wouldn’t have to fake it in their presence, they’d understand. But none of them do. Take a pill, be better, move one. That’s the mentality. Though most scoff at the taking a pill thing, because even if it does improve my condition, well, mental conditions aren’t real, they’re just part of the pharmaceutical company conspiracy to make us all dependent on drugs and line their pockets with money.

I am surrounded by fucking multiple Tom Cruise clones.

(And yes I am using the F word a lot, but it helps me channel my anger rather than, you know, setting people on fire.)

(Another little joke. Sorta.)

I

am

so

sick

of

pretending.

I am sick of R and Kenny making comments on being my being snippy or not myself when I flat out told them what’s going on, albeit I did dummy it down a lot for their comprehension and left out a chunk of reality to protect them from the ugliness of it all.

Withdrawal from Effexor is worse than going off Xanax, for me.

There really is no stepping down from Effexor. Sure, you can do two weeks at 150, 2 weeks at 75, two weeks at 37.5

Then you’re looking at another two weeks to a month of neverending brain zaps which is akin to having an electroprobe in your brain and some little sadist off somewhere with a remote control zapping you every so often with varying degrees of intensity.

Oh what fun.

And the ignorant masses think we put ourselves through all these medications and side effects and withdrawal because it’s fun or something?

It’s been so long since I knew what is an actual physical symptom and what is a medication side effect, I could be dying of some disease and not even know it. The meds make you question every ache, every gas bubble, even changes in bathroom habits and menstrual cycles.

I would not choose this in a gazillion years if it weren’t for the years long hard lesson learned proving I have a condition that needs medicated.

Now…

I just need to find my genie in a bottle, ie, the magic bullet, ie, the one drug that works. I am quite happy with Lamicatal for the mood swings, but the depression just keeps seeping in and mopping the floor with me.

First things first,I suppose.

Avoid Wellbutrin like the plague and focus on getting off Effexor.

Do you ever get sick of your own melodrama? I am so tired of my roller coaster of a life. Look, I’m doing good.

Oh,look, I’m not doing so well.

Hey, I’m going under here…

Oh, wait, I’m doing great again.

No, wait…

Bloody hell.

I’m sick of my disorders, sick of myself, sick of the world, sick of it all.

Unfortunately, they don’t make pills for disgust.