Scary incident

The other day something really scary happened. My initial reaction to scary incidents is silent panic but outer indifference. I can't show feelings, I have lots of feelings, but I just don't show them. It's called affect-phobia,. fear of feelings. I'm afraid of what they do to me, what they make me do. I often just push my feelings away. I want my head and reason to lead me. I don't trust my feelings. The feelings I surpress are the ones that could be classed as "negative", anxiety/fear, sadness and anger. People can't tell when I'm having a panic attack or strong anxiety. I can hide it well. That has often lead to the problem that many professionals haven't taken me seriously because I don't act like a drama-queen. I bascially never cry in front of others. I don't cry much on my own either. And I never scream at people. I don't know how to express anger. When someone is having an argument with me I'm always calm and reasonable, which often makes others even more furious because they see me as condescending. But when I'm down, really down, like totally down, I can't control my feelings. I shake because of fear, I can't control my restless body, I can't control my breathing. I cry, cry, and cry. I scream of fear and inner turmoil. Those moments are rare. Those moments are dangerous. That's when my emotions have taken over, let me believe they are my reason and lead me to do dangerous things. Like trying to commit suicide, hurt myself.

Anyway, so the scary incident the other day. I was sitting on the sofa, my cat in my lap, reading a book. My boyfriend was taking a nap after work. And our room-mate was in his room, surfing on the internet. Suddenly there is a lot of commotion coming from his room. Lots of things falling down, crashing on the floor. And a strange noise that I first thought was him laughing. More things crashed on the floor. My cat got really scared and went hiding under our bed. I knocked on P's door but he wouldn't answer. So I opened the door and there he was, laying on the floor, having seizures! Oh my gosh! I didn't know what to do. His upper body was under the bed so I couldn't really see his face. I woke up my boyfriend and together we tried speaking to P. I wanted to check if he had swallowed his tongue (I once read that that can happen to people who have seizures) but still couldn't see his face. I only saw his legs who moved like a half-dead fish on dry land. Then he fainted and was unconscious. We called for an ambulance. I was somehow freaking out. P woke up and tried to get up. We tried to tell him what had happened but he didn't understand a word of what we were saying. He was totally lost. All he said was: "What?". The ambulance came and they took him to the hospital. He had injured his shoulder badly. They also checked his head and kept him for a night for observation.

He had fainted before. And he had had seizures before. So they suspect that he has epilepsy. They will start doing tests next week. But they also suspect that his antidepressant (Wellburtin) has caused the seizures. He drinks quite a lot of alcohol, he kind of self-medicates with it. And that doesn't work together with the Wellburtin. So he'll have to contact his psych-doctor next week so he can stop taking the antidepressant. And well, he'll try to stay away from alcohol for a while. And that probably sucks a lot for him because it's Midsommar in Sweden today, the day of the year where all Sweden get really really drunk. So he'll stay at home with us, we'll have a typical Midsommar-meal and then maybe watch some movies. No alcohol involved. I mean, we have vodka and wine at home but I don't think we'll drink any of it. I rarely drink alcohol (I used to drink a lot of it when I was younger though) these days, I don't want to lose control

This whole thing scared the shit out of me. I thought for a second that P was going to die. So after he had left with the ambulance, I actually cried for a bit. And then I manically cleaned his room. Lots of stuff got crashed and I thought he should have a clean and nice room when he comes back from the hospital. It is not just that I thought he was about to die. It's also the indifference I felt in that moment. And I wonder if that indifference was just shock or maybe my affect-phobia. Well, I cried afterwards. I guess I was just in shock.

And another thing: if the antidepressant has caused those seizures, how much should I really trust that meds will do me good? This is just another example of things that contribute to my fear of psych-meds. Psych-meds have bad side-effects. I have seen it once again. But without meds I won't get any better. I think P has similar thoughts. He said that he doesn't want to try out another antidepressant for now. Once he is off the Wellburtin, he wants to stay away from psych-meds. Which I know is bad for him as he has several psych-diagnosis. So if I see that it's bad for him, why can't I convince myself that it's bad for me too?