December Update

Sadly, there's not much to update.

I've been seeing my psychiatrist twice a month for the last little while, and now I'm taking Effexor and an anti-anxiety pill.

I am sad every day, and I cry from time-to-time.  Anxiety makes going out a challenge, and I am filled with fear.  Not a great thing when you're trying to prepare for the holiday season.  I try to face my demons, though.

I still feel nothing positive.  NOTHING. POSITIVE.  Just that layer of angst.

I wish I could have my life back.  The one where I was more care-free (I don't think I was ever care-free).  I worry about being unable to regain my status in my career. I dread the thought of my worst fear since childhood being realised... that I would not have a successful career.

Of course, I haven't been able to go workout for the last few weeks... Circumstances and  laziness on my part. I think it's been having an impact on my energy levels and potential for recovery.

Christmas is almost here... and I'd love to feel some holuday spirit.

Photograph

Yesterday, I saw a photograph of my sister, son and I at the swimming pool from this past summer.   We were all smiling.

Looking at it, I didn't recognise the person in the photo.  She was smiling and appeared happy. That person was me, but the outer me. Not the inner me.

I know I smile... it's a reflex... but the lack of happiness is frustrating.  The smile was hollow. Empty. Meaningless. 

Ghost

I am a ghost.  Floating through this world.  Never quite connecting to anything or anyone.  Only uncertainty. Fear. Anxiety. Veils of fear and anxiety everywhere I go.

I don't feel. Even when I touch the people around me, I am not making contact.  Everything is hollow.

I am not a part of this world.

I am alone.

I am in a trance.

I am amongst the living dead. Existing. Not feeling.

A ghost.

Swimming Pool

Here are a couple of observations from today's visit to a waterpark:

1) No matter what you're body looks like, public swimming pools are great for making you feel okay in a bathing suit (okay... this could be the anhedonia talking). There are people of all shapes and sizes, and you realise that even if you don't have the best bikini bod, you don't have the worst.

2) My adrenaline is off. Intellectually, I was scared to go on a waterslide - always have been.  Even my husband felt his pulse rate go up.  Mine did not... Not only did I not feel excitement, I felt no fear (despite a terrible fear of waterslides/swallowing lots of water by surprise/drowning).

Narcisistic Behaviour

"Why do some people not realize how obnoxious they are?
I guess it's because of their inherent obnoxiousity."

One of my Facebook friends posted this as an update. This person is notorious for either the 'my life is miserable; please pay a lot of attention to me' or 'my life is so perfect; don't you wish you were me?' posts. For some reason, this person's updates are the only ones that irk me... Maybe because she irks me in person as well. It's like she's too needy in her posts - always wanting to be the centre of attention - even when she's writing about someone else.

Although it might not seem like it... this blog seems to be a lot about me... I usually put everyone else first.  It wasn't until I became sick that I started paying attention to myself... Sad but true.

Of course, when it comes to blogging and Facebook status updates (especially Facebook updates), I also tire of those who use the medium to continuously cut-down others or do the 'woe is me' thing. (Kind of ironic, given the nature of this blog). My Facebook status tends to be more optimistic, and I hope these updates aren't always downers to those who read it. Yes, I know my life is a challenge right now, but I don't complain about it or advertise it everywhere, every chance I get. I don't need to provide every a play-by-play of every 'crisis' I experience. If I did, things would get awfully boring (like they have been in recent updates... sorry).

Maybe that's why I'm sick. Perhaps hiding in the background means I don't share enough to get better.  But, I don't think that Facebook is the medium for griping about everything. Does the world need to know and pay attention to you every time things don't go right? What ever happened to meeting with friends and having a bitch session? At least you end up laughing or eating.

I know that when you post on Facebook, you can get the support you're needing - which is positive. Very positive. Especially when it is a real crisis - like being really sick, having a sick child, facing a huge challenge you need advice or sincere support on. To me that makes sense.  But complaining because you're in pain after a workout, each time you workout, not so much (if I did that, people would REALLY be annoyed). 

This Facebook friend is notorious for complaining about doing something positive, like the pain she's in after going skiing or cycling with her kids.  Why can't it be about enjoying the time with them... and not about her? 

The biggest challenge for me and this particular Facebook friend is that I don't need things to be all about me all the time, while she does. This difference in attitude creates inner conflict (I would never tell her). I wish it didn't. I just can't understand it.

Back at Square One

Okay, I've been off of anti-depressants for a while, and I question my decision.

I still wish to be invisible - hide from everyone, to not exist.  When I go places, I pray that no one tries to interact with me for fear of creating panic later on or for saying or doing the wrong thing.

I am feeling panic and anxiety.  The panic attacks and feeling like I need to not exist have returned.  Today, after a relatively quiet day over at my brother's, all I wanted to do was go home, cry, and hide.  My entire body - my heart, my chest, my soul, my feet, my hands - was overcome with fear and sadness.  Why?  There is no reason for it. Nothing traumatic happened today.  In fact in was pleasant.  I don't understand why I am so weepy, hysterical and upset when nothing bad happened today.

I've also been waking up in the middle of the night in sheer panic and terror about something or other (I don't remember what I've been upset about, but I know I usually wake up at around three and can't get back to sleep for a couple hours because of this hysteria). This is VERY out of character for me.  I normally sleep at the drop of a hat all night until morning.

I still live in a trancelike state.  I am not present; I am extremely distracted, can't concentrate, can't feel anything positive - only negative, forget everything (and I mean EVERYTHING), and speak in circles. I can't do anything. My focus is gone. Sometimes I start a sentence (even when writing), and can't remember what I was going to say. (Unfortunately, this happens more often than not).

I am ANGRY... perhaps even enraged. I find myself angry, really angry, some of the time.  All of a sudden I completely blow up at my Mom, and occasionally my sister, with no warning.  I go from okay to livid in a heartbeat.  I wish I didn't. It's not fair to either of them.  It's like I will be angry at something one of them did, not say anything at the time, then EXPLODE over something smaller.

I cry at the drop of a hat. I just cry and cry and cry and cry (you get the picture).  I can't stop sobbing at commercials, The Muppet Show Song (really) and Moving Right Along song (once again from The Muppets...HORRIBLE, I know)... etc.

I still feel nothing positive. Stupid anhedonia. 'Nuff said.

Of course, my visit with my psychiatrist was NOT helpful.  He basically dissed the group therapy team for agreeing (and not even questioning) my desire to quit the anti-depressants.  He said that by making this decision, I will regress making it much harder to get better. I am so confused. So frustrated... and of course, back at square one.

Updates

Okay, it's been a while since I've posted, and lots has changed.  Well, not emotionally, but with respect to treatment.

I'm no longer attending group sessions.
I'm a bit choked about this.  The way the program is run, participants can only be in group for a maximum of two months/eight weeks.  My morning routine is gone; my opportunity to share and learn is gone; and I have no formal back-up plan to go to. 

Normally, people who 'graduate' from these sessions have a formal action plan, where the therapists and the psychologist help decide your next steps - other counselling options, organisations to contact etc.  Of course, I'm special.  Apparently, my lack of emotion has made it difficult for them to create an action plan. I was told one of the reasons I am stuck is my intelligence and 'sophisitcated thinking' which prevents me from experiencing emotion. They suggested I wait until I experience emotion again, then talk to my psychiatrist who will put me on a waiting list to see a psychologist. Huh? This pissed me off on some level... generating some degree of passion... well as much as possible in the given circumstances. 

In order for me to progress, I am supposed allow myself to experience emotion.  I said if it was that easy, I would have done it a while ago.  It's not like it's a tap that I can turn on and off.  I blame - at least in part - the anti-depressants for my flat mood.  Before the anti-depressants, I at least had extreme panic attacks, tears, rage, fear etc.  Now, it's virtually nothing.  Without any emotion, it is difficult to work on issues and move forward. So... with therapist and psychiatric approval...I decided to stop taking the anti-depressants.

No more anti-depressants.
It's been almost a week without anti-depressants, and I feel nothing.  I felt on the verge of tears at the Lion King this weekend... But no real emotion.  Grrr.

Losing my keys, losing my mind?
I'm so absent minded lately that I keep locking my keys in my car. State of mind???

Goal-setting.
I feel like I'm regressing.  I can't seem to set goals and follow-through with them.  My attention span is aboutthisbig. Sigh.

Next step?
I have an appointment with my psychiatrist next week, and I hope we can come up with more of plan.