My head is killing me. I thought it was Xanax withdrawal since she swapped it for klonopin. So I hit the stash (makes me sound like a druggie,eh?) and took .25 of Xanax. Headache still hasn’t gone away so it’s gotta be something else, maybe going back on Cymbalta or a side effect of starting the klonopin. It just all adds up to a wonderful day in the fucking neighborhood.
Bipolar disorder, fuckest thou!
Had to get food earlier. At Super Wal Mart. Which is only less grueling than a date with the Marquis de Sade. I hate going to that place. Of course, in a small town, where they have a stranglehold and you have no other options, it’s a catch 22.
Mid way through, with my kid wandering about not listening to me and declaring “I want” every ten seconds, I got hit by a wave of wooziness and was overly warm and sweating. My heart started to ricochet off my chest walls and it felt like the walls were closing in on me. It was all I could do to make it to the register and pay for stuff. My initial instinct was to abandon the cart, pick up my kid, and flee to the nearest exit. It happens pretty much every time I have to go to that store, because it’s just always so packed. I dread having to go there and try to keep it to one trip a month if I can. I looove hearing the uber chipper fucks who say, “See, you had a panic attack but you worked through it, you CAN handle it.” Sure, I could probably handle a couple of hours on a torture rack. Doesn’t mean I want to or should have to. Fuck. Stupid stupid people. It put me in a mental state for two hours, had to immediately come home instead of finishing all my errands at once. Had to regroup.
Speaks to what wonders the fucking klonopin is thus far doing. I have tried klonopin and ativan and seroquel for my panic. None work. Xanax works. And I wouldn’t have a two month stash if I abused it. To me, it’s like Tylenol, I take it when I need it. But nooo, the doctors have to have this attitude where you’re not an individual, you’re just part of a collective of people who have abused the stuff and therefore, it is eeeevil. Never mind that it works. No, that’s not important. What’s important is the doctor not feel like the pharmacist is looking down on them for prescribing the addictive xanax.
Look at what I went through withdrawing from Effexor. Sooo much worse than Xanax withdrawal. Yet doctors aren’t ushering patients off it.
I get sooo sick of well meaning people who cop an attitude toward xanax just because it didn’t work for them or they couldn’t hack the controlled addiction or withdrawal. It’s no different than a person who responds to ibuprofen but not Tylenol. We are all different. And not all of us abuse the stuff.
Yes, I am tirading because while I brought up going off the xanax in favor of klonopin, it was more for the doctor’s comfort than me. She’s held that ax over my head for over a year now and I got sick of it, it only adds to the anxiety. I’m a “rip off the band aid” kind of girl. Of course, I thought the crazy woman would slowly step down the xanax, not cold turkey me with the hope that “klonopin will take over, you won’t have withdrawal effects.” If that’s the case, then why doesn’t every doctor who takes a patient of xanax bypass withdrawal by putting them on klonopin? I’m not entirely convinced she has a clue what she is doing.
But what do I know, I’m just the mental patient.
I got hit with a thought earlier about, “What has been so traumatic and bad about your life? You’ve never been homeless or hungry and you’ve been loved (albeit usually short term). What has made you so angry and aloof?”
And it just hit me: The mental stuff.
Without it, I would probably be able to chalk it all up to “life sometimes sucks”.
But when every day is spent with this dark cloud overhead…it stands to reason you’re not going to be unscathed. Sure, others have it worse. But this is MY life, and this mental shit has always detracted from my quality of life. I think it warrants some anger and frustration and a little bit of an attitude.
That being said…
I’m gonna take a page from my other blog Psychodome and list 5 things I am grateful for in my life.
5.) music- if there’s music in hell but not in heaven, I want to go straight to hell, fuck the collecting $200
4.) TV shows- perfect medium for someone with my gnat like attention span, I learn a lot from tv, believe it or not. I figure two more years of forensic shows and I could probably pull off an evidence free murder. (That’s a joke, ffs.)
3.) Dr. Pepper Yes, soda is bad for me and I would be thinner without it. I don’t care. As soon as I meet a man who makes me as happy as Dr. Pepper, I will quit soda and get skinny.
2.) Cats Wanna impress me for Valentine’s day? Screw a bouquet of flowers, hand me a basket of kittens. I absolutely adore cats, big and small. Way more cuddly than a man. And surprisingly, lower maintenance. Ideally, I would find a man who loves cats as much as I do, but oddly most men who like cats are gay. What’s that about, anyway?
1. My daughter. I waited a long time for her, was told I’d likely never be a mom. Having her has been an incredible journey and continues to be. She makes me laugh everyday, makes me remember why I am still battling my demons and bothering when every incorrect signal my fucked up brain is sending me tells me to just give up. She is the sun, the moon, the stars. But we’re not gonna tell her that, don’t want her getting an ego Mommy loves her, that’s all she needs to know.