Barely alive but trying hard

I have been staring at a blank page all day, trying to come up with something I can write about. I have somehow lost the motivation and inspiration to write. I even scribbled down some topics I could discuss on a piece of paper. I have just been incapable of writing something that makes sense. So now I'm giving this another go. And as you can see, I'm writing. That's progress!

I'm going through a very bad period right now. This is definitely the worst I have felt for many many months. First off, I feel alone and lonely. I don't often feel that way because I think that having a rich social life is really something that society tells us is normal. But that's not true, we all have different personalities and preferences. But you know, I have been telling myself that I'm alright on my own, only with my man and my cats. But M said something the other day that made me cry later. He said that whenever I have been out, met people, talked to people, I lighten up, I get happy. And I know that it's true. I love talking with others, discussing things, learning things from others. I love putting make-up  and decent clothes on and go out. I love it. But my social anxiety has gotten so strong that I kind of lost that part of me. And I don't feel like I can be bothered to get that part back. There is too much pain involved, too much anxiety. The thing that bothers me the most right now is that I haven't met a single friend for a proper date since March! I know, that sounds crazy but that's the truth! I have had lots of mates and a few closer friends but they have all given up on me. I don't even get messages on Facebook anymore. The only people I text with are my social worker and my boyfriend/husband/man/the guy I live with. The same with phone-calls. It's my own fault, people just gave up on me. I always declined meeting them, going to parties, going to clubs, going to exhibitions. But now I want out of this exile I have created and there is no way out! So I feel incredibly lonely and alone. I feel like I am not connected to other humans anymore. I don't exist.

Depression has hit me hard. I can see all the signs and I know I'm in a deep depression right now. My psychiatrist agrees with that. Last week I have been crying my eyes out every day. My body was still twitching from the Seroquel-withdrawal, I had restless legs and I was so sad, sad, sad and anxious. All I had on my mind was how I was going to kill myself. Has it gotten any better?!? I don't know. I feel detached from reality most of the time. I try to avoid spending the days in bed but it's difficult. I don't eat. I have no creativity in me, no inspiration, no motivation. The moment I wake up I wish it was evening again so I could go back to sleep. And there are moments when I have the strong urge to die, to just jump off the balcony. To walk to the subway-rails and lay down and wait for the train to come. But then I remember that I have responsibilities, that I can't just leave. So yeah, proper depression. I'm just trying to make the best out of it, small steps every day. Cooking. Reading. Writing. Taking a shower. And still, I'm crying. I don't want to. I don't have the strength. Why can't the ground under me just open up and swallow me?!?

I met my psychiatrist in the beginning of this week. We discussed the twitching/spasms/weak legs/stiff muscles. He checked my arms and hands and said that they were fine. He said it will eventually go away. I believe him. I have to believe him. It has actually gotten a lot better during the last two days. The only thing that is still utterly annoying me are my legs. Sometimes I just want to chop them off. I'm also trying to get off the Propavan again. I think the Propavan has a lot to do with my dopamine-levels being messed up. So he gave me some instructions and I'm following them now. I'll take a 3/4 pill for a month, then down to 1/2, then down to 1/4 and then stop taking it. And I'll take Zoplicone every night. It still works for me, after all those years, because I've not been taking it regularly. But now that I do, I'm worried it will stop working eventually. We'll see. I'm also supposed to take a Valium in the morning and one in the evening due to my increased anxiety, depression, suicidality and restless legs. But you know me, I'd rather not do that. So far I haven't taken a single pill. But I might need to do that. I'm not too sure if Valium works for me, the half pill I took some weeks ago didn't do shit. The whole pill I took gave me difficulties to breathe. I know that I'm stupid not following my doctor's advice. I don't know, maybe it's still the punishing myself thingy. I once got told that I'm using "not taking sedatives" as a way to self-harm. That might be true! Maybe I should just go back to the Oxazepam. I told my psychiatrist that I never want to try new psych-meds again. He said that all I have left is my own strength and therapy. And hospital every now and then. He actually said that, someone with my gravity of mental illness won't be able to stay away from hospital forever. I so didn't want to hear that. It was our last appointment before he quits. I'm supposed to call him next week, maybe I'll get some dopamine-pills. We hugged and wished each other good luck with our future endavours. 

I'm trying to stay positive. I cancelled on my social worker this week so I can just focus on finding some kind of strength. Next week my university-studies will start. I have already registered, I have looked at the lists for literature I need. I have read some introduction-texts. I know what will come, I have seen deadlines, topics and exams that I need to pass. I hope I can handle two courses at the same time. This weekend I'll spend on looking for books I need on the internet. I have checked my bank-account and I'll get my student-benefits next Monday. For the first time in 9 months I'll actually have money on my account. But that money is already spent in my head: new ID-card and passport, books, petrol, the paint for our kitchen. It doesn't matter. I can actually spend money! Next Tuesday I'll also have the first meeting concerning the psycho-dynamic therapy. They'll evaluate me. I'm really nervous about it. I hate having to make a good first impression. I'll probably just sit there, shake because of anxiety, move my restless legs and hope that I don't get a freak out and run off. I need this therapy. So things are going to happen next week. On Monday evening I'll have my first chat for the philosophy course. On Tuesday morning I'll meet the psychologist. On Wednesday the Russian course starts. I need to focus on those things. Change. I'll have totally new routines. This autumn things might finally get moving for me again. Take a pill or two. And breathe! (And chop off your legs!)

RESTLESS

My legs have been driving me crazy during the last few days. And the restlessness is also creating more anxiety because I'm getting nothing done at all. And I've been googling my issues so much just to find reassurance that it will go away soon. That everything will go back to my normal state of depression and anxiety. But all I have found are terrible stories about how it has even gotten worse for people! I have read on some more reliable websites that the "extrapyramidical" withdrawal-symptoms most likely stay in the body for up to four months. For some people they will never disappear. I have only taken the stupid Seroquel for a little more than three weeks, how can I suffer from this? I mean, the damn restlessness in my legs came about a week after I have stopped taking it. I also have a very tensed jaw all the time. And I'm too scared to only take the Propavan during the night because the one time I tried I had muscle-spams in my whole body which was really awful. So now I'm taking Zoplicone every night. Not good. I have read about people who have had muscle-spams and akathasia even years after having stopped with the Seroquel. They are bound to bed and their lives have been destroyed. And of course I'm now worried that that will happen to me too. But it hasn't gotten worse for me yet. This morning, for about two hours, I didn't have any restless legs at all. It has just started again.

So what to do? Should I wait it out? I have been trying to avoid sedatives because I just don't want to take them regularly. I'm just not someone who goes and takes a pill right away. My husband thinks that I should call my psychiatrist. But I feel like I have annoyed him enough already, called him twice two weeks ago. And I have an appointment with him in six days anyway. So what I have done is to write down a list of things I need help with. If the restlessness doesn't go away, I need some medication for that, at least for a short period of time. He will probably be really confused that I'm having these withdrawal-symptoms but I had told him from the beginning that I don't work with meds. And I need to get off the Propavan. I guess I'll get to hear that I need to take benzodiazipines for a while, regularly. I guess I'll have to live with that. 

I'm not angry with my psychiatrist. He was really convinced that the Seroquel would help me. He maybe should have listened more to my arguments, that I always get side-effects, that I have always gotten worse from meds, instead of better. But on the other hand, I was the one putting the pill in my mouth, swallowing it. Although I knew better. So I'm really really angry with myself. I knew better! So I guess that's one of the reasons why I don't take any sedatives right now, because I unconsciously think that I deserve to feel like this. I like punishing myself. I should have listened to reason and not hoped for getting better. I knew that something like this would happen! So I'm really angry at myself. I'm so damn stupid!

My anxiety is really bad because of the restlessness. I can't sit still. I mean, I do sit still but there is always this urge to move around. I change positions all the time. I tried to exercise the other day because I thought it would make it better but my legs are so damn weak! It just didn't work out. In two weeks I'm supposed to start up my university-studies again. How will I manage that when I'm like this?

I have become suicidal again. We watched "Iron Man 3" the other day and there was a scene when Tony Stark is standing on a cliff. And all I could think about is how nice it would be to be at that cliff and just jump. And this feeling of wanting relief hasn't gotten any better. I think I'm really depressed. I am indifferent and very sad at the same time. I just don't have any mojo. I would right at this moment love to be standing on those cliffs and prepare to jump. Fortunately all our windows have locks so I can't jump from any of the windows. You know, we live on the sixth floor. And at one time I tried to jump out of our bedroom-window but my boyfriend saw me and wrestled me down. So since then we can't open any of the windows wholly, just a few inches. And I suppose that's good when I have feelings like I'm having right now.

My wedding day. Anxiety-hell

I got married two days ago. But I've been doing so badly with the damn restlessness in my legs that I couldn't be bothered to  write a post about it. Actually, I have gotten so far in my thoughts that I would like to surgically remove my legs. It's just driving me insane. I don't think this will ever go away so hopefully I'll get used to it with time. I could take sedatives because they tend to help but how is that a solution? Right, now I've started this with a lot of complaining again. All I wanted was to write about my "wedding".

So we had booked an appoointment at the town house/citizen center at 4 p.m. on Thursday. We didn't want any huge celebration or an actual party. There were three reasons for that: 1. we didn't have the money to actually host a party with a venue, music and food  2. I just didn't want my dad to be there because that would have meant that I had to dress and behave the way he wants to, and I didn't want my mum to be there because she would have overdone it. I mean, she called me the day before we got married and asked if I was going to have any flowers. It would look beautiful on the wedding-pictures. Erm, no. and 3. I have social anxiety and I just wouldn't have been able to get through a whole day where the focus is on me. I can't even meet friends or take the subway, how could I  able to survive my own wedding? So yeah, it was only me and my boyfriend.

I spent two hours to fix myself up. I didn't want to be overdressed. I just wanted to look "proper" and beautiful for my boyfriend. I wasn't overdressed, I looked goth but wasn't looking like I was on my way to the clubs. I was quite satisfied with the way I looked although I would have loved to weight around 20 kg less. I had terrible spasms in my arms and legs and felt really weak. I could barely stand on my legs. I started to worry that I had gotten some serious nerve damage due to the meds. That caused me some extra-anxiety. I was already anxious about the whole procedure. I had expectation-anxiety: I was imagining myself throwing up in front of a lot of people because of anxiety, or just running away because of a panic attack.

So I wasn't happy and excited. I guess that's what most people are on their wedding-day. I just wanted to get it over with and get back home. The spasms were painful, my legs were so weak and I had a lot of anxiety. So we drove to the place, walked in there (I actually had to wear socks in my high-heels because of some weird reason, my feet have shrunken and my shoes were too big all of the sudden. But as I was wearing black stockings, no one could really see it). I was shaking and just wanted to get out of there. I tried so hard to focus on my boyfriend so I wouldn't totally panic. You know, I wanted to marry him. I just wasn't happy about the whole procedure, me having to go out, having to actually be present and all that. I would have preferred to do it over the internet, some clicks and done. It has nothing to do with that I'm not romantic. Actually, while writing this post I discussed the issue with my boyfriend. I would (and he as well) have been much happier, more content, more excited about getting married via the internet. I wish that option would have been avaiable. So I didn't have to deal with all the negative symptoms of my illnesses. I hate anxiety and it kind of has destroyed my wedding day. But I hadn't expected anything else.

Anyway, we walked in there and there was this huge waiting area with wooden benches. And there were at least 50 people sitting, waiting for their appointment with the social services, the health insurance and the police. We were told to sit down somewhere and wait. So that was when the little bit of romantic feeling that I had got killed. Instead panic won! I was sitting there, my legs were involuntarily moving and I had the big urge to just run away. I focused on my boyfriend, held his hand, stared at the floor. I didn't even think about that I was getting married. I was indifferent to the whole thing. I started to dissociate and still damn worried about my legs just giving up on me. I wanted to get home. I hated the children staring at me. I was convinced people were whispering about us. I wanted to get away.

After about 15 minutes we got called in to a room. It looked like a room that was barely used. It was really dark in there. No one had bothered to turn the lights on I guess. Two women and a man followed us in. The man was the wedding officiant, the other two were witnesses to sign the papers. They didn't ask us for our ID-cards, nothing. We gave them all our papers, they got stamped, things were printed out. Then he asked us if we wanted to have the long or the short version. We both replied silmuntanously "short". You know, my boyfriend has anxiety iusses too and he was white as a ghost. I was worried he would faint or just throw up. Anyway, he asked us if we wanted to marry each other. We said yes. He said that we could exchange rings now. We didn't have any rings. He signed the papers. We didn't have to sign anything. We shook hands. We asked him to take a picture of us (my mum would have KILLED me if there hadn't been a picture). And that was that.

Then we went to sit in the car and smoke a cigarette. We kissed and both said that we were glad that it was over. We didn't want the "getting married" thing, we just wanted "to be married". So now we are married. We went home and had some cake. We got tons of phone-calls, sms, cards and Facebook-messages that day. Honestly, we counted, over 250 people contacted us. I have a lot of friends because I have lived in two countries and my family is huge. So yeah. Anyway, think if all those people would have come to our wedding. It would have been terrible for me. We later just sat on the bed and watched two movies. We ate junk food. We cuddled the cats. That's what makes me happy. Being together with my little family. Not a huge fake-romantic party!

So I'm married now. It doesn't feel any different to just being together. I have handed in papers to change my last name to my husband's (how weird it is to write "husband") and they said it will only take a few days for it to be approved. So I'll get rid off the name that connects me to my father. It will be the best feeling in the world, to see my  new name on an envelope. It's like finally getting my dad out of my life. He actually called me on my wedding-day. We maybe talked for a minute and he congratulated me. I was surprised about that. In some way I was happy that he at least had the decency to call. My mum had texted me all day long and we talked on the phone a few times. My brother wrote to me on Facebook and my sister and I skyped for an hour the next day. So my family didn't forget about me, despite all the shit that is going on right now with the divorce of my parents. 

I'm happy to be married. I think. I'm actually still a bit indifferent which has a lot to do with the weird spasms, the restlessness, the anxiety. I haven't had a moment where I could actually feel what it's going on inside of me. So yeah, my illness has destroyed my wedding-day for me. I couldn't focus on being happy. But it doesn't matter. I have done it, it's behind me and our relationship is in a new phase now. Sadly enough we didn't have any wedding-sex. We never have sex anyway. So yeah.

I'm electrified - withdrawal and side-efffects hell

I'm exhausted. My whole body is in some kind of tensed mode. All my nerves and muscles are tensed, it's not painful, it's more like being constantly electricuted. Last night I decided to not take Zoplicone and just take a Propavan for sleeping. I just don't want to take too much Zoplicone due to the danger of getting addicted to it. And I have done like this for years, take a Zoplicone twice a week or so when I really needed to fall asleep because I had something important planned the next day. What I didn't think of was that I'm probably still in some kind of withdrawal-state because of the Seroquel.

I had no trouble falling asleep around 2 a.m. after having read for about an hour and having cuddled with my cats. But once I had fallen asleep the terror began. First off, I had terrible nightmares. Those I often get when taking Propavan and no Zoplicone. I dreamt about wanting to take a plane to Senegal of all places. I have never even given that country a second thought in my life. But I couldn't find the gateway, ended up in a toilet and witnessed a women getting raped and tortured. Really weird fucked up nightmare. I woke up many times during the night because of spasms and cramps. So terrible! I got those when I tried to stop taking Propavan and even sometimes randomly while being on the Propavan. It's like my body is in stupor and there are weird electric shocks going through it. And my legs and arms, even the rest of my body somehow, start moving, cramping, like a dying fish on land. And this morning it took me about an hour to get out of bed because the feeling was still left in my whole body. I guess the withdrawal from the Seroquel and the Propavan side-effects work together here. Some devilish coalition. My jaw is really tensed too. The feeling hasn't really disappeared out of my body yet. So I have taken a sedative about ten minutes ago (Oxazepam) because I know sedatives are muscle-relaxing. And I have anxiety anyway because of this terrible feeling. My whole body aches! GAH! So tonight and probably the following few nights I'll take a Zoplicone. That has helped before against the weird spasms and cramps I get from the Propavan. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist on the 26th and I'll definitely take that up with him. I need to stop taking the Propavan and I need help with that. I have read up on it (I really shouldn't google things but I was so freaked out by this) and there are many people who are getting spasms of Propavan. Plus for a few months now I sometimes have this weird movement of my mouth/lips that I can't control. That can come from the Propavan too. So once I'm through with the Seroquel withdrawal, I need to get off the Propavan. And as it didn't work out last time with reducing the dosage, I need some help. Maybe some meds or something that will get me through it. Honestly, these spasms freak me out. I hope they are gone tomorrow and the Zoplicone tonight helps. I'm getting married in two days and I really don't want to stand there, having spasms and cramps and no control over my body. It just feels right now as if something is seriously wrong.

On a positive note: the rash and the itching are gone. That's such a relief! This shows that I have actually had an allergic reaction to the Seroquel. I'm glad that I have stopped taking it. Who knows, maybe I had gotten an allergic shock eventually. I'm so over psych-meds. 

I received a letter today, telling me that I have an appointment with a therapist on September 3rd. This is making me really happy! Finally things are happening. I'll try so hard to convince that guy that psychodynamic therapy is right for me. It would be really great if I'd be accepted. I'll have an autumn where things are finally moving forward, no standing still anymore. Studies and therapy. Routines and stability. 

I'm not doing so bad mentally right now. I'm not depressed or sad. I'm a bit anxious because of the weird things happening with my body. But I'm not overworried. I tend to be really hypochondriac but even though all the symptoms are terrible I can keep calm. I think because the rash and the itching have disappeared, I'm convinced that the spasms and cramps are temporary as well. Let's hope so. Right now I'm a bit freaked out because I can't really feel my hands. Gosh, I hope the Oxazepam will make me a bit tired so I can take a nap. That's what I need. A nap.

One day it will all be over

The itching is a bit better today. It's still itching but it is definitely not as bad as yesterday. The palms of my hands are still swollen and somehow burning. But my face looks so much better. But it is still itching, especially on my arms and my back. I did something that I have actually been avoiding due to my hypochondriac tendencies. I googled withdrawal symptoms of Seroquel. I can't believe that people still get this medication! Poeple lost their eye-sight, got strokes, got heart-attacks and most people get the itching and burning that I'm experiencing right now. I'm really relieved that I actually stopped taking the med after just three weeks on it. Otherwise I probably would have had to take it for the rest of my life because getting off it would have been impossible with my ubersensitivity to medications. So yeah, I'm still itching but it feels like it's getting better. I feel a tad weak and this morning I was really close to throwing up. Most people experienced the itching for two or three weeks so at least I know now that there is an end to it. 

Getting off yet another med because of bad side-effects has led me to the conclusion that this is it. I don't want to try any new medications/antidepressants/moodstabilizers/antipsychotics. People always say that I have to endure side-effects and have to try out all the meds avaiable before giving up. Well, if I had a bacteria infection and I knew that there is an end to it, I might have to take the antibiotics for a few weeks, maybe months, yeah, I would try out everything avaiable. But when it comes to psych-meds I'm not thinking like that. It's because I'd have to take them for years and years to come. Why? Because I have several diagnosis, it's not just one infection. Anyway, I don't want to try out any more meds. I guess I slightly hope that they will get somewhere with neurological research and somewhat come up with a simple solution to mental illness. Like lobotomy but less invasive and more studied. On the news they said yesterday that they have found out that the genes of people with mental illness are the same,that there is a genetic disposition. And they came to the conclusion that mental health is mostly genetic and not enviromental. That's a huge find. But of course no one cares because they'd rather think that we have done something wrong than that there is something wrong with the genes, something we have no control over.

So I have given up on meds. I have given up on the hospital as well. But not totally. I can't rule out that I'll be admitted again. That will be periods when I need to be safe. But I want to avoid that as much as possible. One of my biggest fears is getting sectioned, to be admitted against my will. But I doubt that will happen. I'm a reasonable person, even when I'm anxious or really low. So I know what to say and how to act to not get sectioned. Then there's therapy. My psychiatrist told me that he doesn't think that therapy will help me. He said that therapy will only make me understand but it will never heal me. Yeah. I have tried out CBT and DBT. I don't like being told what to do without any proper explaination. The causal correlation between the past and the present, between my actions and my memories has never come up. I can't do that. I need to reflect, to discuss, to learn. So CBT and DBT (which was the totally wrong therapy for me!) didn't work out. I hope that psychodynamic therapy might at least help me to understand. If I understand and accept I might be able to change things, I might be able to gather more strength. I want my recovery to be on my terms and psychodynamic therapy seems to be right for that. But who knows, maybe I won't get in. I still haven't heard from them. It's been six months since my last therapy session. 

So, without meds, will I ever get better? And without therapy? I feel like I'm stuck right now. Nothing has moved forward for a year. In and out of hospital last year, several times. This year has so far only been about standing still. There has been no improvement (how - withou therapy?). I'm starting to give up hope. Honestly, in my head I have already given up. I don't believe that there's any help out there for me. They give me diagnosis after diagnosis, they give me med after med, they put me in and out of hospital. They don't know what to do with me. I'm too complicated, I'm not just a "simple" depression or have BPD or have social anxiety disorder. Nope, I have several things. And they don't know how to help me. I feel like that there is no help for me to get. 

If I were religious, I would let God take care of me. Well, I'm not religious, I don't believe in God, energies or anything spiritual. So where do I turn to? Nowhere. I only have myself. For now I'll take each day as it comes. I'm not in a deep depression right now. I'm depressed, yes, but I'm not awfully suicidal. My anxiety is there but bearable. So I'll just carry on. Day by day,. There are things happening in my life. In three days I'm getting married. In three weeks my university studies start again. I have things to look forward to. And I'm content about these things, but not happy. I'm never happy because even the things that should bring my happiness are always somehow connected to anxiety, worries and so on. Like: I have gained so much weight I'll look stupid in my wedding outfit. Like: I'm afraid I'll fail the courses because I'm doing too bad. So my point is: I'll just carry on, take each days as it comes and not think of the terrible, meaningless future ahead of me. But there will be a day when I won't be able to fight anymore. And that will be the day I'll commit suicide. I knew that day would come, even when I was a small child. I always knew that I'll die of my own hand. And I'm alright with that. It won't happen tomorrow and probably not this year. But maybe in five years, maybe in ten years. The day will come. And I'm alright with that. I have made my peace with the thought that I'll kill myself. Because I know that there isn't any proper help out there for me. No one can help me. And that's okay.

I've told all this to my social worker the other day. I have no clue if that was right or wrong. I explained it to him logically. He didn't say anything. He probably thought that I won't be his problem when the day comes anyway. So he just pretended to listen and hoped that he'd be able to leave my flat soon because all this negativity was making him bored. I know, I know, I can't know what he was thinking. But that's how I felt he was thinking because there was no response coming from him.

I know this post isn't overly positive. But I feel like I have made peace with the thought that there is no proper help out there for me. And I have a plan that makes it feel okay. One day it will all be over. Maybe that day will never come and I'll die of old age, with an uneventful, meaningless life behind me. Who knows.

Itching, burning, scratching - Seroquel you bastard!

I know, I promised some more entries the other day but I was busy with an ITCH that is  all over my body. Sounds weird? Well, let me explain.

My skin had been weird the moment I started taking the Seroquel. But I blamed it on the dry air and the sun. We haven't had much rain this summer and it had been quite hot. And I have quite weird skin due to the PCOS, hormone imbalance. That means that I still get pimpels, I bascially never have clear skin. But thanks to make-up, concealer and powder, most people don't see my ugly face much. Anyway, so my back was a bit itchy and my arms. But then it exploded. I got HUGE bumps on my skin, in my face, my arms and my legs. And the rest of my skin was itching and burning like hell. It wasn't the same kind of itch that I had from the Lamictal but I kind of had the same feelings, feverish, weak and confused. I had just called my psychiatrist a day before about the restless legs I get from Seroquel/Quetiapine and he had told me to take sedatives against that. So I didn't want to call him again because I hate being annoying and bothering other people too much. 

But on Thursday I couldn't take it anymore. The big blops really looked weird and most of my body was itching and the rash had spread. So I called my psychiatrist to ask him if it could have anything to do with the Seroquel. He told me to stop taking it because it could be some kind of allergic reaction. So I haven't taken the med since Thursday. 

I don't have any new rash and the big ones in my face are getting smaller. The ones on my arms have disappeared. But my skin is still acting up. I have small spots/dry spots in my face. And my whole damn body is constantly itching. It is so annoying! Oh, and the restless legs syndrome is gone. I also have a little bit of asthma and itchy eyes. But that could be from my cat, I sometimes get that. But the itching, oh gosh! Sometimes it's almost burning, especially on my palms and the soles of my feet. My face feels hot all the time. Even my scalp is burning. And everything else is itching itching itching. GAH!

I read up on it and many people get the itching as a withdrawal-symptom from the Seroquel. And as I'm ubersensitive to meds I even get withdrawal symptoms after only 3 weeks on the med. Lucky me. I have given it a thought if I might be allergic to something else as well. I mean, because the big spots/bunbs are getting weaker and I haven't gotten any new ones I can be quite sure that they were caused by the Seroquel. But the itching?  I don't think it's our new kitten, we have had him for almost a month, I should have gotten symptoms much earlier. And I haven't eaten anything new that I'm not used to. We are using a fairly new fabric softener but we have been using that one for almost two months. And the symptoms I have are not typical cat-allergy. And if I was allergic to the fabric softener, I'd have a rash where my clothes touch my body. Well, I don't. It's just itching and burning everywhere! Even in my vagina! In my ears. Fortunately not in my mouth. GAH!

So I guess I'll just have to wait and see. I am quite convinced that this itching is a withdrawal symptom, especially because it got really really bad when I stopped taking the med. Before that I had a bit of an itch but the rash and the bumps looked much worse. Another withdrawal-symptom I have is weakness in my legs. I have fallen twice because I suddenly lost all feeling in one of my legs. Yay. I also have a headache which is really persistent.

I've taken 12,5 mg Atarax so I could get rid of the itching. It helped a bit but my face and my palms are still burning. And I'm really tired and I'll most likely have a hangover soon. I have bought Bepathen for the weird dry burning spots in my face and hopefully it will help. I also put some on my palms but they burn just as much as before. Really, I hope this will go away soon. 

I will never take any antidepressant, mood-stabilizer or anti-psychotic medication again. I'm done. They make me suffer, they make me feel even worse mentally and physically than I am without meds. That's it. I'm so angry at myself for letting myself be convinced to try out the Seroquel. The doctor shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. I can't take meds, period. 

After a week of silence

My last entry is from a week ago which is kind of shocking because I have so much to talk about and so many thoughts in my head. So I guess you'll get more than one entry today. You are all so lucky! Haha. My mum has left two days ago and I'm enjoying the freedom of being on my own. My boyfriend is still off from work but around him I can be myself. When someone else is in the same apartment, I always have to put my mask up and pretend that I'm alright. Really, only with my boyfriend I can be myself. I can't believe that he has actually stayed with me through all these years of poverty, depression, suicide attempts, throw backs and drama. This is one of the reasons why I have agreed to marry this man. Because he knows me. He knows how bad I can be doing. He hates my mental illness and he often says that he can't take it anymore. But still, he stays with me. And he has learned to give me my space. He knows that I HATE if people give me attention when I'm not doing well. So yeah, around him I can be myself. And use the bathroom without closing the door, run around in my underwear, without make-up. As nice it was to have my mum here to visit us, it was also really exhausting and I'm glad that things are back to normal now.

Last weekend we spent on the beach here at Alby lake. The lake is just around the corner from where we live, it's a two minutes walk from our building. I'm not so much into summer, beach, sunshine. I actually hate it. It has a lot to do with my body-issues. I have gotten really FAT and I would never show myself to anyone in a bathing suit. And no, I'm not whining, I think I weight between 90 and 95 kg so I'm actually obese. We packed down a blanket and some water and just went down to the beach. The first day we only sat there and enjoyed the view over the lake. We walked through the water with our bare feet and later sat down, smoked a few cigarettes and watched other people. There were two huge parties going on. One was some kind of Nigerian wedding and the other ones was a Sri Lankian party with a band and everything. The next day my mum and my boyfriend packed their bathing clothes and actually swam in the lake a few times. I was listening to music and reading a magazine and randomnly talking to a guy next to me. I love water, it always calms me down. I don't think I have ever had a panic attack close to water. I come from a sea town and I am used to the soothing sound water makes, the wind, the birds. So I actually enjoyed myself. It was a bit too hot for me though and on the way I got a minor panic attack because of that. I have low blood pressure and the hot sun tends to make me dizzy and that caused the panic.

My boyfriend and me at the lake on Saturday (I usually don't post pics of myself but you can only see my fat ass so I'm fine with it)

On Monday it was my boyfriend's birthday. We left in the morning and took the car to Mariefred. That's a small but cute town about 100 km South-West of Stockholm. We wanted to visit Gripsholms Castle which is one of the royal castles. It was so hot that day! USH! First we walked around the castle, looked at runestones they had dug up there and checked out the premisses.

One of the runestones. I love Swedish runestones. They always tell a story. I particulary love this one with the beautiful snake. It's about someone dying in a war.

They are really old, this one was from the 11th century. 

View from the castle-premisses over Mariefred. So beautiful!

It was quite expensive to get into the castle but we really wanted check it out. The castle is known for its huge collection of portraits from the 16th century and onwards. There are over 4000 paintings in the castle. The castle was built in the 16th century and has since then been part of the series of royal castles and has been rebuilt many times. For a while it was a prison.. It was so beautiful! We walked around the different rooms, looked a the paintings, the interior, the painted and decorated ceilings, the wallpaper, the beds, the prison-cells, the tower. I think we were in the castle for over three hours. Unfortunately you weren't allowed to take any pictures inside the castle. But many of the paintings were so wonderful and it was awesome to see the changes through the years, in the clothes of the people portrayed, in the style of the paintings. I really loved the castle. I think my favourite room was the theatre. They had their own theatre! It was so serene and beautiful. 

The inner courtyard with a wishing well in the middle

The castle from the back

Then we went for a walk in the park, looked at statues and the beautiful (but small) garden. It was really hot so we spend some minutes on a bench in the shadows. We then walked over to Mariefred. It wasn't a long walk but in the hot sun it was quite exhausting. Mariefred is such an idyllic and calm place. The center is exactly how someone would imagine a Swedish town would look like. There are only around 3000 people living there but many tourists were in town. Many of the movies based on Astrid Lindgren's children-books were filmed in Mariefred. We checked out all the small cute shops and finally found a place where we could have lunch. I had the most yummy smoked salmon. We sat outside, just looking at people passing by and later had some coffee and cake. We walked to the lake-side and there I found my favourite place in Sweden so far. It was so calm! There were all the small red and yellow houses in the back and there was open water. You could hear the water splash on the stones of the beach. It was so calm! There were barely any people around. I felt so calm and it was such an intense feeling. I really loved that spot. Anyway, later we walked back to the car and because I was so tired and it was so hot, I was quite anxious and really only wanted to get back home. 

The town house of Mariefred

My favourite spot

The last day of my mum's visit we spent mostly at home. We just went grocery shopping. My mum wasn't feeling too well. I think she realized that she had to get back home, to her problems, to the divorce, the money-problems and all that. So we just hung out, watched a movie, cooked lunch and my mum later took a walk to the lake. And then on Wednesday we drove her to the airport. I talked to her today and she is ill. She has a uterus-infection and high fever. She has gotten bacteria from somewhere. I assume it's from the lake. I guess I'm lucky I didn't take a swim in there.

It was all a bit overwhelming for me, to have her around, to be out so much. Yes, I have had some nice moments and but my social anxiety blossomed up many many times. The worst was when we were having lunch in Mariefred and there were these two teenagers who couldn't stop staring at me. Eventually I had to switch seats with my mum, I couldn't take it anymore. But I must say that I'm proud of myself. I managed to go out a few times, I didn't complain and I saw some interesting and beautiful things. Who knows, maybe I'll even have the guts to go down to the lake by myself, with a book and some music. But I doubt that. The week with my mum was quite exhausting and I really need to rest a few days now. Today my boyfriend started a fight with me because he wants to do something "special" on our wedding day. Like eating out or taking a trip. But I don't want that. I want to be calm and happy and not anxious on that day. I want to focus on him and our love and not be overly aware of all the people staring at us because we are overdressed at a cheap restaurant. I think he has understood that now after he talked to his sister on the phone. She has social anxiety too and totally understands what I mean. I need rest, sleep and time on my own (plus with my two cats and my boyfriend) during the next few days. I'll read, write, play stupid Facebook-games and watch movies and series. That's exactly what I need!

*yawn*

I'm on my own right now so I thought I'd spend some time on the internet before I give it a try to exercise. It's really hot today so I'm not too sure how long I can actually sit on my exercise-bike. But a few minutes exercise is better than no exercise at all I guess. My mum has arrived two days ago and since then I really haven't had a calm moment. She's constantly talking. She has been through a lot lately, with the divorce and everything. So I understand that she needs to talk about it. But I'm not that receptive right now. Luckily my boyfriend is there too so he can say more than my "mmmm", "okay" and "I see".

I'm still on the Quetitapine/Seroquel. I tried to call my psychiatrist on Tuesday but he's on vacation. Just my luck. I can't really say yet what the meds is doing to me. The restlessness in my legs comes and goes. And it can really get to the point where I'm just pacing up and down the hallway. It's a terrible feeling and it can drive me crazy. But it's not there constantly so that's good. I'm really tired, exhausted and sleepy. Sometimes I can barely keep my eyes open. That's a side-effect that has just come some days ago. I also still feel dizzy and weak sometimes. I still feel more stable though. I haven't had any suicidal tendencies since I started taking the med. I haven't cried, I haven't been sad. But I have anxiety and panic attacks. It's a bit worse than my normal anxiety. But if I'd take a sedative I'd just fall asleep because I'm so tired already. And at the moment I'm still taking the Propavan too which means a doubled hangover. Something needs to be done about the restlessness in my legs. Maybe it will go away by itself?!? Maybe I can take some med against it?!? Maybe it will disappear once the dosage is increased?!? I really need to talk to my psychiatrist about that but he won't be back until Monday. 

Two days ago we took the car to fetch my mum from the airport. I actually enjoyed the one hour drive. It was raining a bit, we had the windows open, I smoked, listened to the radio and talked nonsense with my boyfriend. It was relaxing. But when we arrived at the airport the sun was really hot and there were way too many people. So all the calm feelings I had inside of me kind of disappeared. The drive back wasn't as relaxing because my mum was constantly talking and well, she sometimes behaves like a teenager. For instance she screamed as if a bee had just stung her when she got some bubble water on herself. That kind of freaked me out. I hate when people scream! We had a nice evening though. I cooked dinner and the three of us just sat at the table in the kitchen and talked. Well, I was mostly staring out of the window but I listened and got really upset when I heard about all the rumours that my father has spread about my mum. 

Yesterday I was forced to get up early. Well, not really early for "normal" people, but early for me. And I was so hungover from the meds! Ush. We had a proper breakfast and then we went to a huge mall close to where we live. We wanted to check for clothes to wear at our wedding. As I said before, we don't want to make a big deal of the wedding, it will only be us anyway. But we both don't really own any "proper" clothes. My boyfriend found a pair of pants at a second hand store which look really good on him. It was just weird to see hm in something else than tight black jeans. I found a skirt at H&M (and a dress with small cats on it, really cute, but not for the wedding) and a pair of high heels with studs at a cheap shoe store. So now we have everything we need. We'll look proper. I was so exhauted! It was hot and buying clothes about the worst thing for me. Nothing ever fits, I always feel the judging looks people give me, like "how can she buy something here, she's way too fat"-looks. It's exhausting to get in and out of clothes and shoes for a few hours. And I was already tired because of the meds. So when my mum and my boyfriend decided that we should have lunch there, I panicked. I didn't show it but I guess they realized it because I got really snappy and grumpy. I hate eating out! We went to do some grocery shopping afterwards and I could barely stand straight anymore. I was so tired and exhausted. I could have just slept right on the floor at the supermarket. Ush. 

Today my mum and my boyfriend are in the town, taking one of those boats which goes around in the archipealague and then in the center of Stockholm. I called them an hour ago and they really seemed to enjoy themselves. My boyfriend loves to go out and my mum loves touristy things. I have decided that I'll go out with them tomorrow instead. The Pride Festival is going in Stockholm right now. You know, the LGBT-festival. And tomorrow they will have the parade so we will go and look at it. I don't know how long I can actually stand on my legs and if the heat will be bearable. But I'll give it my best. I want my mum to have fun and my boyfriend should enjoy his days off from work. I didn't complain anything yesterday (apart from being grumpy before lunch) and I won't complain tomorrow. Somehow I'm looking forward to it, somehow I'm not looking forward to it. Then on Sunday we'll have a day at home, maybe just take a walk down to the lake in the afternoon. The laundry needs to be done and we need to do the grocery shopping. On Monday it's my boyfriend's birthday and he wants to do something, to be out. So we'll take the car to Mariefred and visit Gripsholm castle. I guess I can always go and take a nap in the car if it gets too much. We'll either take picnic things with us or I'll pay for a meal. I still have that much money that I can pay for three lunches. On Tuesday we'll vist my boyfriend's aunt. And on Wednesday we'll drive my mum to the airport in the morning and in the early afternoon, T, my social worker will come and visit me. I actually cancelled on him this Tuesday because I hadn't slept much the night before and the restlessness in my legs was unbearable. So yeah, I have losts of things planned. And I still feel side-effects from my med. We'll see how that will work out.

I've been thinking about baking some chocolate-buns that we can have for tea and tomorrow for breakfast. And then there's still the exercise. I also need to make/create a birthday card for my boyfriend. I've also promised to cook dinner tonight. I guess I'll start with the card, then the exercise, then a shower, then bake the buns and then start dinner. I also want to read today, and watch another episode of American Horror Story. So I won't have a lazy day in my bed. Although that's actually what I wanted this morning. But instead I had breakfast with my mum and my boyfriend and once they left I cleaned the apartment a bit, opened the balcony windows, watered the flowers, took care of the cats, done the dishes and applied for student benefits. It's funny how people always think that the mentally ill are lazy bastards and do nothing. I can't even remember the last time I've just sat in front of the TV doing "Nothing".