Stuck

Wow. I can't believe that it has taken me so long to get back in the mood for writing a blog-entry. I have the most lame excuse: I just can't get started with things these days, I can't focus and I basically lost all motivation. It could be a sign of depression or maybe it's just the fact that it's still winter and the lack of sunlight has drained me of energy. I think it's depression as I'm taking vitamin D - supplements and they should be helping me with lack of energy. It doesn't matter what the cause of my total indifference and concentration-issues is. Eh? Anyway, tonight I just thought I'd force myself to write a bit and hopefully it will put me in the mood for more things that I love doing. Or that I have planned. Or that I should be doing. So what has happened in my life during the last few weeks?

Mental health. I have had periods that were quite alright. But most of the time I have just felt dead inside. A huge feeling of indifference. Other days that indifference is replaced by mind-killing anxiety. Suicide thoughts come and go. Self-harm thoughts come and go. The worst is my lack of motivation. It has a lot to do with that I have given up. I don't believe I can get help for my mental health problems. I'm not in the state where I think that it can never get any better. I might have some okay-ish days. But I don't think I'll ever have any real capacity to make it out there in the world. I'll end up being dependent upon my husband, or the social services, maybe the health insurance. I feel like I'm incurable. It's not like I feel that I have it worse than others. It's just that I have tried everything, nothing worked. And I can't get bothered to try yet another med or therapy. So I have lot all interest in the future because I know I have a bleak future ahead of me. I have nothing to look forward to, no goals that I know I can reach. I'll spend the rest of my days in this apartment, in the evenings my husband will be here, I have my two cats but I'll basically be cut off from society, success, social life. And that's why I'm not motivated to do anything. Why bother? I have given up. A huge contributer to this state of mind is the fact that I have dropped out of therapy. Before anyone starts blaming me for my own situation, let me explain. I didn't really make the decision because I wanted to. My therapist, well, ex-therapist told me that we are not getting anywhere, that it is always about suicide-prevention and crisis-solving with me. He made feel guilty for being unstable. And that's what he literally said to me: You are not stable enough for therapy. I wanted to continue with therapy but he made me feel like I was taking up someone else's spot, someone who deserved it better than me. And not mention that it seemed to me like he didn't believe that I could be helped. Honestly, how can anyone be not stable enough for therapy!?! Isn't therapy there for making you stable and help you deal with your problems? So I dropped out of therapy because my therapist talked me into it. When I look at it now, I'm quite sure that he manipulated me into dropping out. Instead I was sent to see a counselor, just so I have some kind of psych-contact. I met that person once. She didn't know what to do with me. She told me that we can meet sometimes, just to talk. This really didn't seem like the greatest help in the world. So I feel stuck. If they ever think I'm stable enough to start therapy again, I'll be put on a waiting-list, a 5 months wait, at least. And honestly, I'm bipolar and I don't take any meds, how am I going to be stable for 5 months? I cancelled my last appointment with her. It just feels useless. I'm sure there are other people going through some life-crisis right now who need the time with her. So: no future, no proper help. Why fight if what I have right now is everything I'll ever get? Oh, and I have a new psychiatrist. A confused old lady. She must be around 70. She  had forgotten about our first appointment. She hadn't read my file and proposed all kinds of meds to me, and all of those I had already tried before (Seroquel, Lamictal, Prozac ....). She had also promised me to contact a neurologist about my legs. She forgot about that. I had to call her to ask her about it, over a month later, and she was like: oh, I must have forgotten. Yeah, right, maybe time to retire. So I doubt that she will be able to help me medical wise. I'll get prescriptions for Oxazepam and Zoplicone whenever I need it. I guess that's something.

Physical health. I have been very quite unlucky when it comes to my phsyical health as well. First off, I can be a bit of a hypochondriac. I think it has to do with my anxiety, my GAD. I notice every small problem I have, I give it too much attention and I get scared. And of course I always get scared that I might some serious illness that will lead to a slow and painful death. Like, they have tested my blood-sugar some weeks ago and it was a bit high. They thought it wasn't high enough to be diabetes and it could just be that I had eaten something beforehand. The same with my white blood-cells, they said that I had a few too many but it could just be a minor infection somewhere in my body. But in my head I have diabetes and incurable cancer. I am just a worrier I guess. So, almost four months after having being diagnosed with hypothyroidism I kind of thought that they should do another check-up, especially because I had been put on meds and I had no clue if they were working or not. The meds give me side-effects by the way: my skin got really bad, I have itches and I feel nausea. But I have had worse side-effects. So I called my GP's office and got told that she is taking a break from work (sounded more like she got suspended) and told me they'd tell another GP to get in touch with me. That other GP called me, I had to leave blood-samples and it turns out my hormone-levels are still bad. The "funny" thing is that I have never met that GP. Only spoken to him on the phone once. Did he give me an appointment so we can discuss the results? Did he at least call me? Nope. That idiot sent me a letter telling me that my levels are still bad and how to increase my meds. That person is supposed to be my GP! What the heck? I'm still fighting with restless legs and spasms. It has been six months now since this shit started. I have stopped taking the Propavan in the end of November for heaven's sake. But nope, I still suffer from it. In the beginning of January I couldn't take it anymore. So I went to the ER. I had to wait for 8 (!!!) hours and then got to meet a neurologist. She examined me and decided to prescribe Sifrol to me. That's a Parkinson-medication but it is known to help with restless legs too. Well, but my fear of meds and side-effects got the best of me. This medication has side-effects such as depression, impulsivity, anxiety, psychosis. Honestly, not the best medication for someone with mental illness. I have still been fighting with the restless legs and spams daily. Some days it is so bad that I'm just in bed crying. I just can't try the med, I don't trust meds anymore. I'm really sure that it won't help and that I will just get bad side-effects. The neurologist from the ER called me this week to ask me how it is going. And I just told her the truth, that I have a history of bad reactions to medications and that I'm too scared to take the med. So she wants to book in a scheduled stay at the hospital for me so I can be observed while starting with the med, in case I get any bad reactions. I don't know. I'm really thankful that she called and that she understands and that she wants to help. It kind of feels like I would take someone else's spot, some stroke-patient who needs to be put on meds, someone with MS that needs to get their meds changed. Sure, I suffer badly but it is not life-threatening. I don't know. She said it will take some weeks until I will hear from them so who knows, maybe the restless legs and spasms have disappeared until then. Okay, I know, that is unlikely. We'll see.

So there you go. This is what I have been fighting with lately. This isn't all to be honest. But it is late now, I want to go to bed. I'll write some more tomorrow.

A pill to make you numb, a pill to make you dumb

I have been stupid enough to let myself be convinced to give the Quetiapine/Seroquel a try. I have had an appointment with my psychiatrist yesterday. We talked for about thirty minutes. And he was of course disappointed that I hadn't given the med a try. I think he was also confused. Most sick people probably get happy when they get meds that can make them feel better. But I'm the opposite of that. At least nowadays. Some years ago I still thought that there is some medication out there that could actually have a positive effect on me. But after all my horrifying experiences I am just really careful. Anyway, my doctor had some good arguments. For instance, that at the moment he is still responsible for me and I trust him. So I can feel like I'm in good hands. And he also said yet again that he doesn't think that I could get any better without medication. So last night I was sitting in the kitchen, a glass of water and the little orange pill right in front of me. It took me half an hour to get the pill into mouth, drink some water and swallow it. I'm still not sure if I really should give it a go. I'll see for a week and if I get any strong side-effects, I will stop taking it right away. I can't go through side-effects again. I just don't have the strength.

My psychiatrist said that I just shouldn't think about side-effects. I shouldn't feel for them, I shouldn't think too much around them. But I have GAD?!? Of course I'll think about it and interprete every single weird thing in my body as a side-effect! I haven't read up on the side-effects again though. I just don't want to worry more than I already do. Reading about all the terrible things that could happen to me would just freak me out. Well, I remember one side-effect that I heard of some years ago when I tried Seroquel for the first time: sudden inexplainable death. Let's just hope that that won't happen to me. 

So I took the pill and went to bed. I had already taken my Propavan some hours before. I didn't get any more sleepy of the Seroquel. But I'm only on 25 mg so the dosage is probably too low. I didn't feel more hungover this morning either. I woke up many many times during the night but I think that was due to the heat. And a kitten trying to cuddle with me. I felt really weak this morning though. After a cigarette and a cup of coffee I was close to fainting. And of course I panicked, got a panic attack and went straight back to bed. But that passed. Right now I'm still a bit weird and detached from reality. I'm getting weird cramps in my arms and legs. I'm shaking a bit. And my anxiety is really high. It could be that I'm just freaking out because I'm taking a new med. I mean, it is really hot today. I can't deal with heat because I "suffer" from low blood-pressure. So of course I felt a bit fainty this morning. But still, something feels odd and off. I can't really explain it. Uncomfortable is the only word that I can come up with. Yep, I feel uncomfortable. But I haven't given up yet. Fortunately my boyfriend will be off from work for three weeks soon so I'm not alone at home. And my mum will come to visit us for a week. So if something bad is going to happen, someone is there to help me. That makes me feel safe.

I mentioned to my psychiatist that the whole reducing of the Propavan-dosage went to hell. He laughed when I said that the reason why I got manic/hypomanic was the medication and not any underlyring bipolar illness. He explained to me that he thinks that I'm atypical bipolar II. I don't care anymore. I am what I am. He also said that he doesn't officially give me a diagnosis because he is more interested in treating symptoms than actually putting labels on people. I like the guy. I'm supposed to call him either on Friday or on Monday and tell him how it is going with the Seroquel. I have real issues with having to call people but I guess I'll have to do it.

Oh, and he is done writing the book on psychiatry and psychiatric help in Sweden. And my poem is definitely in the book! The book will be published in fall. My big dream is to become a published writer. But I really want (and I am actually doing it) to write books and short-stories. They are just way more thought-through and are more complicated to work with. A poem is something instant for me, I can write a poem in 20 minutes. So far I have written two novels and both of them took me almost a year. Anyway, I'm really glad that something that I have created will be published. I'm proud of myself. 

I'm confusing myself

I'm actually quite alright right now. And I didn't crash yesterday. Maybe the worst is over. My anxiety is still strong and I wouldn't be able to do anything demanding right now. But I'm not sad. I have been looking at cat-memes all morning. Ah, by the way, that's something that annoys me. That these pictures are called memes. Meme is a term that Richard Dawkins brought up in a sociological meaning. A meme is a unit in our society that is generally accepted as a truth and therefore is inherited by the next generation. It works in society at the time and keeps up certain laws. Religion is a meme, capitalism is a meme, patriarchy is a meme. But I'll not be all intellectual now, most people aren't interested in those kinds of things anyway.

I have had some confusing and weird thoughts. I think they are some kind of defense-mechanism. It's like this: there is a lot of confusion around what diagnosis I have. I have met many (many!) different psychiatrists during the almost three years I'm contact with psych-help. And they all come up with different ideas about what to exactly call my condition(s). They all kind of agree on Avoidant Personality Disorder/Social Anxiety, PTSD and GAD. But they don't think that's all and I agree with that. So first they were convinced that I have  Borderline Personality Disorder. But I don't have that, I don't fit the category, I'm not impulsive, I have no problems with relationships. So they thought that I might have Depressive Personality Disorder/Dysthimia. But nope, now I'm bipolar instead. 

I'm so tired of it! Why must my case be so complicated?!? Why can't I just have one diagnosis? Why can't they see what I'm suffering from? I have done two kinds of therapy so far. CBT and DBT. Both didn't help me one bit. I'm one of the "unlucky" ones who doesn't get better by just going against her feelings. Like, one of my social anxieties ( I have many, I avoid all kinds of human contact if possible. I haven't met a single friend since February. I haven't been outside our apartment for almost a month now) is to take the subway. I saw that as my main obsticle to get to university, the one place I want to get to! So I did all the exercises, I took the subway every day to university for almost a month. And it didn't get better, it got worse. I eventually ended up at some subway-station in central Stockholm where the police picked me up because I had a major breakdown. I wanted it soooo bad! And it didn't work out. I theoretically understood and still understand how CBT works. But it doesn't work for me. DBT. Well, it wasn't for me. I felt like an outsider during the year I did that therapy. I was the odd one out. I didn't have their problems, my problems were totally different. I didn't get better, I even got worse because I saw everyone else doing progress and I was still stuck with my anxiety and suicidal ideation. One time I was sent to hospital right after grouptherapy because I was sucidal. That was so embarrassing! Anyway, I didn't like DBT, I found it condescending. Mindfulness is a joke to me. It doesn't work for me for several reasons. I might write another entry about that one day. 

Meds don't work for me. I'm too sensitive to medication. I get so strong side-effects that I end up in hospital every time I try out a new med. I get even paradoxal side-effects! I can get euphoric of benzodiazipines. I got really tired of Wellburtin. The few medications that have helped me (Abilify and Lamictal) I had to stop taking because they caused Caged Tiger Syndrome and an allergic shock. 

So what is left for me? What more can they do? Psychodynamic therapy? Try out even more meds? I have lost all hope. So now to my weird thoughts. There are several:

1. I'm too fucked up. No one can help me. They only see me as an annoyance. It's my own fault because I can't really describe my feelings. I am intellectualizing everything. I'm a lost cause to them. 

2. Maybe I'm not ill! Maybe I'm healthy and all the meds I have tried out actually made me ill. And to continue to have contact with the psychiatric center will only make things worse. So I better quit everything. Stop taking all the meds. And hope for the best.

3. Why do I continue to fight? I can continue living this meaningless life some more years. Until the pain gets too much and I commit sucide. That has been on  my mind since I was a child. I have always been convinced that I'll die by my own hand. So why fight it? Maybe that's my fate (although I don't believe in the concept of fate or determination)

But I know what I'm actually feeling. It's fear. It's the fear that they actually have nothing more to offer me. And the fear that they think that I don't want help. I haven't tried out the Seroquel. I always seem okay when meeting the professionals because I can hold the mask up. At least most of the time. I haven't even cried once in therapy! So maybe they think I'm just a lazy attentionwhore. I have real difficulties to ask for help or to be honest about how I'm feeling, or to even describe my feelings. So yeah. I've lost hope. And I'm afraid that they have lost hope too. I'm afraid that they will say they I have to blame myself to not take the help they offer me. But what is it they offer me anyway? Hence the defensive thoughts. Better to believe that I'm not ill,  better to believe that I'll kill myself eventually than to face the truth that there might not be any help out there for me. 

Maybe I don't want help? I often feel like I just want to be left alone. Maybe in the end it's the fear for change. I don't fucking know. I want to be myself. I want to be able to try out to live. I want to reach my full potential. I want to be the best I can be. But the years I have fought for getting the right kind of help have made tired. I don't want to fight anymore. It doesn't seem worth all the pain. It's just not worth it.

I don't even know if this entry makes any sense! I better go and get another cup of coffee. And smoke a cigarette. And get some logic into my head.

I'm AWAKE

I'm listening to David Bowie and I'm happy. Maybe not over the top happy but I'm content. Gradually stopping to take the Propavan was the best idea I have had in years. Okay, I don't sleep much. I think I got about four hours of sleep last night. I just couldn't fall asleep. But I had expected that and I'm fine with it. I could have taken a Zoplicone but 4 a.m. seemed like the wrong time to do that. 

I have so much energy, it's unbelievable! I didn't walk around like a zombie all morning. I was almost clear in my head when I woke up and I got lots of things done. During the last two years my mornings have been a drowsy mess. I needed two hours to wake up, to even start the day. But today, today I woke up and after 10 minutes I started cleaning, doing the dishes, baking some breakfast-buns, taking care of the laundry, cuddling my cat, planning lunch, reading the news, having a deep discussion about the faults of capitalism with a friend on Facebook and sitting on the balcony having a fag in the sunshine. 

What the heck?!? I mean, I'm tired because I have slept too less. And I'm a bit on the edge anxiety-wise. But it feels "natural". I feel like I have been released from a constant slumber. I can't imagine the energy-levels I'll have when I'm totally off the Propavan. Was this me before I started taking sleeping-meds?!? I can't remember. I used to be able to get up at 8 a.m., exercise an hour, clean, go to university for some classes, meet a friend for coffee, study for five or six hours, cook a lovely meal, write a long letter and watch a movie. All in one day. That was bascially my every day life. Maybe that was the real me?!? 

All these zombie-like mornings are a thing of the past now. I'll get off the Propavan, that's for sure. I know that my try last autumn didn't work out. But this time I'm doing it gradually. And I don't care about lack of sleep, increased anxiety or even cramps. I'll get off it. I still have the Zoplicone to fall back onto if I don't sleep at all.

On a funny side-note: my boyfriend took half a Propavan last night because he wants to get off his Zoplicone. So I gave him half a Propavan. And he is still in bed. Haha. He was up for an hour or two but was all drowsy and tired so he went back to bed. Funny, I take half a pill and I get filled with energy, he takes half a pill and turns into a zombie!

Of course I'm now thinking if I'm hypomanic. Could that be? You know, this every day life I had for about two years could have been hypomania. I just don't know. My stupid psychiatrist totally confused me with the bipolar diagnosis. So, could I be hypomanic right now? I feel happy, I have lots of energy, I feel like dancing on a meadow. I have lots of ideas. I feel really creative. I have deep discussions, discussions like that I haven't had in months. I feel like Popeye who has just eaten his spinach. Can the reduced dosage of the sleeping medication have triggered hypomania? Help?!?

I'm still not taking my meds ...

I still haven't taken the Seroquel/Quetapine. I am a wuss. I have realized that I have come up with a lot of avoidance-strategies and excuses. I still don't know if it's the fear of the side-effects or the feeling that I don't want to be ill so I ignore the fact that I could need a strong medication. I had the meeting with my psychiatrist a week ago, I have had the pills at home for six days now. I haven't opened the package. It's in my medicine-cabinet, in the back, in the dark, where I can't see it. 

I think the main reason for not taking it is fear. And P's seizures because of the Wellburtin really made that part only worse. I'm afraid of side-effects. Before I had started with psych-meds I had never been afraid of side-effects. I had seen them as part of getting better. I get dizzy and I feel sick from simple painkillers. Still, I  took them when I had a headache. I took antibiotics although I threw up because of them. Those are not side-effects, psych-meds give you really fucked up side-effects. The first psych-med I have ever taken was Prozac. I could barely eat for three months. I could barely sleep. I was manic and restless. I was shakey. I threw up every day. And I got even more suicidal. First imprint of a psych-med in my memory. And then Zoloft, Lamictal, Effexor, Abilify, Zyprexa, Wellburtin. They all made me worse, much worse. Effexor gave me a feeling of electric shocks through my whole body, I didn't leave the bed for a week. Zyprexa made me really really fat. The nodrenaline in Wellburtin gave me so much anxiety that I was going mad for real. I had someone sitting with me for two weeks because I was so suicidal. Nope. No good experiences at all. So yes, one of the reasons I don't want to take Seroquel is because of the side-effects. Okay, it's probably the main reason. I just don't believe that meds can help me. I'm too sensitive to medication. And if you don't believe that a medication can help, it probably won't help. I won't even get a placebo-effect out of it. And well, Seroquel can make me fat just like the Zyprexa did, it could make me lose my mojo, just like Zyprexa did. And it could make me more suicidal, like all other psych-meds did. Gosh, I even got panic when I took my first Valium ever. It didn't calm me down, it made me panic because I was so afraid of it being bad for me. I hyperventilated, because of a sedative!

The second reason which is kind of a result of the first reason is that I don't want to get admitted to the hospital again. I didn't get better there. I hated being there. And everytime I left I was feeling worse than when I got there. There are people there, lots of people! You need to share your room with three others, you need to share a bathroom with six others. You get crappy meals. The staff is always stressed out and the doctors want to send you home as soon as possible because they need your bed for someone else who is waiting in the ER. It's never about getting better, it's about getting you out of there as soon as possible. Like the last time I was there I tried to commit suicide three times while being there. And they still sent me home, a day after a suicide attempt. They needed my bed. They could see that I was doing like shit and that I had lots of anxiety. But yeah, there are other patients waiting to be treated. Being at the hospital is not for me. It is really hard to be around that many people, patients, staff, cleaners, when you have social anxiety. And I do exactly the same things there as I do at home: I surf on the net, I write, I sleep, I watch TV, I read. So really,  it makes no difference where I am. And I know that if I take the Seroquel, I'll do much worse. All meds have made me worse, why should the Seroquel be any different? Me being worse means me being suicidal. Me being suicidal means me being sent to the hospital, either after a suicide-attempt or because someone realizes how badly I'm doing. I don't want that. And I just know it will be that way, experience tells me. Reason tells me. Statistics tell me. 

I'm not doing so bad right now. I have felt much worse. Right, I'm not sleeping much, I have strong anxiety every now and then. I get into petty fights with my boyfriend. I haven't thought of suicide for a few days now though.  I don't feel that depressed. I have trouble focusing. I don't get my routines done. But still, I have felt worse. So why should I take a medication if I'm not in a very bad state?

There has been some confusion around my diagnosis. I have anxiety-iusses which Seroquel won't help against anyway. My doctor thinks I'm bipolar. But on the package it says that I should take the Seroquel for sleeping and against anxiety. Say what? I thought I was supposed to take it as a mood-stabilizer? I thought I should take it instead of trying out Lithium? I could call my doctor and ask him what he thinks it is for. I know that I want to get rid off the Propavan so maybe that's why I'm supposed to take Seroquel? I could call him and ask him to clarify this for me. But well, I never call others. Social anxiety issue.

And then there is a reason I have discussed with P. He said that I unconsciously don't want to get better. It has to do with my expectations of life. It has to do with my acceptance of my illness. I know that I have lots of potential. I get it to hear that all the time. I have succeeded at university after all. But I know that I'll never be able to use my full potential. So unconsciously I think that it's not worth the fight, worth the side-effects, if I don't get where I want to get: to be a normal healthy human being who can try out her potential, see how far she can get in life. On a scale from one to ten when it comes to functionality I am maybe at a three at the moment. With years of therapy and lots of meds I might be able to reach a 7. But I want to be a ten. And because I know I will never be a ten again, I don't see it worth the fight. I don't want to face the truth, I don't want to accept that seven is all I can get. So I rather stay at a three and and don't face the truth, still hoping for the ten.

So my avoidance-strategies are: 1. Ignore the fact that I have the medication at home, don't think about it, push it away  2. Find arguments that speak against the medication and believe these arguments even though they only come from personal experience 3. Convince myself that I'll end up in the hospital so the fear gets bigger, listen to fear 4. Don't call the doctor to get reassurance and a better explanation, better believe that there is no reason to take it 5. laugh about my own fears (I texted with my social worker the other day and I joked about my fears) 6. Convince myself that I'm just doing fine 7. If I won't get fully functional with it, why even try?

I personally find my avoidant strategies and my arguments quite convincing. But a little little little part of me thinks I'm just a stupid wuss. My psychiatrist is a professional after all, he probably knows what he is doing. Maybe I'll sleep better with it. Wouldn't it be great to finally get rid off the Propavan? I know I should, even though I don't get why I should. This is just fucked up. Fucked up.

Seroquel?!?

I'm a worried mess right now. Even though I'm trying to push the thoughts away, I just can't focus on anything else than my worries. I had an appointment with my psychiatrist yesterday. He was just as nice and friendly as the first time. I feel really lucky that he is my doctor at the moment. But he told me that he will quit on September 5th. And the reason why he wants to quit is that he is appalled by how the psych-center works and how they treat their patients. That's kind of worrying for me because I can't leave the center and if a good psychiatrist like him condemns the center like that it really doesn't feel too good to be stuck there. We discussed the Lithium and told him my reasons why I don't want to take it right now. And he said that I was convincing and that it seemed like I had really thought about it. My decision seems rational. So we talked about other options. And I suggested Seroquel/Quetapine because I have never given it a real try. I have only taken it two days in a row some years ago and gave up on it because I didn't feel anything from it. 

So I have the pills at home now and I'm worried to the max. Every time I tried out a new med I ended up in hospital because my suicidality got so much worse. And that's what the information on the package says: if you are suicidal or ever been suicidal you can get worse. I don't want to end up in hospital! I'm not too worried about the other side-effects because I survived Abilify and Zyprexa. I mean, I had to stop taking them because of side-effects but the side-effects went away when I had stopped taking them. My psychiatrist warned me that I might feel like a zombie for a week or so. I'm only supposed to take 25 mg anyway so I don't think it will be too bad. But I'm still really worried. The good thing is that I might be able to stop taking the Propavan. And maybe even the Zoplicone. I mean, how amazing would it be if the Seroquel makes me sleep and stabilizes my mood? But I'm uber-sensitive to medication so well, I might end up in hospital. Is it worth a try? I'll probably stare at the pills for a long time tonight, shaking, being anxious. Damn. I had actually written a note to my boyfriend to not go and fetch the medication because I'm not sure if I want to take it or not. He was supposed to go to the pharmacy this morning. He got it anyway. Idiot. So now I'm really torn, should I take it or not?

I even gave my psychiatrist a poem I had written for his book. He is writing a book about patient-care in the psychiatry-field and he had asked me if I wanted to contribute with a poem about the feelings I had and have when it comes to how people have treated me at centers and hospitals.I think he liked my poem and he said he will definitely use it in his book. 

We also discussed the suspected bipolar-diagnosis and I told him that all the bipolar people I know are slighty crazy and really creative. And he looked at me and asked if "crazy" and "creative" aren't two words that would describe me as well. And he is right. That's what I am, crazy and creative. Still, I'm not too sure about the bipolar thing. I just never have the highs. I don't think I have ever felt hypomania. I have never felt a huge difference between the moods I have, there haven't been huge highs. But maybe that's because I have some anxiety-issues as well? Maybe my PTSD and my anxiety actually hold back my hypomania?!? Who knows. I don't want to think about diagnosis anymore. I'm fucked up and obviously mentally ill. That's enough information for me.

Oh, I have the Swedish citizenship now. The process was supposed to take up to 10 months but I already received a reply from them after a week. Weird! I have dual citizenship now, Swedish and German. That feels good. So in an unlikely event, like war, I have some more options. And I can vote in Sweden which is really important for me. I'm very much interested in politics, some might even call me an acitivist. And as I'm living in this country, I should be able to be part of the decision of whom and which party is leading the country. Yeah.

Out of order - but somehow functioning

I've been really uninspired during the last few days hence the lack of posts. I have discovered a website where you can play old Nintendo games for free (nesforever) so I have been playing Super Mario Bros 3 all weekend long. And I really didn't do much else. It actually helped me a bit to get out of the dark valley of depression because it kept me busy. I didn't have to think much, I could just focus on pressing the right button and making the little plumber jump. I have gotten tired of the games now though because I can't get past a certain level and that makes me frustrated. So now I'm trying to tackle reality again, no more brainkilling games and no more wasting whole days with sitting in front of the computer.

Yesterday I went to the Peter Murphy-concert in Stockholm. He was playing Bauhaus-songs and I really couldn't have missed that. The moment we arrived at the venue someone called out my name and some of my friends were sitting outside, eating kebab. Don't people usually eat kebab after a show?!? Anyway, we went in and there were lots of people and I started to panic. I felt sick to my stomach and I was sure I was going to throw up. But I'm good at holding up a mask and I don't think anyone noticed. Actually, I was close to panic during the whole night. I tried to push the feeling away. I told myself that I won't throw up. I have never thrown up because of a panic attack and only once because of anxiety. But the horror-scenarios were in my head, the embarassment I would feel if I threw up in a crowded place, how everyone would stare at me and think that I'm disgusting. Despite that I actually enjoyed myself. I goofed around with my friends, talked with a lot of people and it felt good to be social.And I felt pretty. This seldomly happens. I am really ashamed of my body because of the huge weight-gain. And yeah, my stomach looked big last night but I didn't care much. I had a jacket on that hid it a bit. My hair looked amazing, the purple turned out well and I fixed my goth-mohawk. I also loved the dress I was wearing and my make-up was perfect. So yeah, I felt pretty and somewhat confident. And it was kind of cool that a lot of people asked me if they could take a picture of me. Oh, and the concert was fantastic. I was in the first row and I was often just closing my eyes, listening to the music, singing along. There were some awkward moments though. There was no barrier between the stage and the crowd so I was really really close to the band and Murphy. And I don't like someone singing and looking into my eyes. And that happened a few times. That's really the kind of attention I hate getting. Yeah, and all the time I was thinking about how embarrassing and catastrophical it would be if I threw up right on stage. I also zoned out a few time, I slipped into some kind of dissociativ state. Still, I enjoyed myself. Our friend K came with us after the show because she lives close to where we live so we dropped her off at her house. We talked about cats. Random, I know.

I'm really exhausted now. My cat woke me up at 9 a.m. which is basically the middle of the night for me. That little monster hopped around on me and when I had gotten up she went to her favourite chair and fell asleep. So I have been chatting with people on Facebook. And I have read up on streaming. It is not illegal in Sweden to watch streamed film and series. So I'll be busy the next few years, watching movies. And I think I'll start with the third season of the Walking Dead tonight.

I have tried out the Diazepam. And it felt like I couldn't breathe. I don't know if that was due to the pill, my fear around new meds and or the bleach in my hair. I had bleached my hair earlier that day and I can get a bit wuzzy from the bleach. It was probably a combination of the three. I also felt really dizzy and my arms and legs didn't really follow me. I was basically in bed for an hour, hyperventilating. I am sensitive to medication after all so I thought the Diazepam was too strong for me and it would stop breathing at any second and just drop dead. I just fell asleep after a while. I will give it another go. Next time my anxiety is really really high, I'll take another one. And I'll have my boyfriend around in case I really stop breathing. I think I just overreacted and panicked. Diazepam is stronger than Oxazepam after all.

Tomorrow T will come over. He will have three weeks off in July and asked me if I want another person visiting me during those weeks or if it is enough with a person I can call in case I need help. I don't think I want to meet yet another person and T and I only sit and talk anyway so I'll be fine with a number I can call. On Friday I have an appointment with my psychiatrist. I have decided I don't want to try out the Lithium because 1. I don't have an official bipolar-diagnosis 2. I'm afraid of side-effects, especially the weight-gain, and I have always ended up in hospital when I tried a new med 3. I don't trust that there will be any follow-ups when he is not working at the center anymore and I'll have yet another psychiatrist and 4. I have PCOS and I'm afraid that it will mess up my thyroid. I don't know what he will say to this. It might seem like I don't want any help and that's not true. I just want the right kind of help and I am too afraid of new meds. I'm quite sure that he will be disappointed and a bit helpless because there basically isn't much he can do. We'll see how that goes.

Today I still need to exercise and prepare lunch/dinner/food. I also want to try to write a poem or a short text for my psychiatrist's book. I'm just so damn tired! And my body is really hurting. I'm not used to being outside, I'm not used to meeting people, and I'm not used to stand for hours and then dance for hours. And I'm allergic to my hairspray so I'm sneezing all the time. I should try to get my hair down too. But I'll start with the exercise and then try to write something. I'd rather be in bed and sleep.

Zombie

It's raining. Really hard rain. And it is warm. I feel like I can't breathe. And I'm so exhausted. I couldn't fall asleep last night. All the time I thought: "Now I'm getting up and I'm going to take a Zoplicone!". But I didn't get up. I fell asleep around 4 a.m. and woke up at 7. I wandered around in the flat for a while, smoking, drinking water, cuddling the cat. I went back to sleep and my cat woke me up at 8.30 a.m.. I don't know why. In the end we fell asleep together, she was on my stomach. I woke up at 11 a.m. and since then I have been trying to get out of a sleepy state. I can barely open my eyes. But my thoughts are still spinning and my heart is beating at a high rate. I feel like I'm drugged, my body is in some kind of stupor. I'll most definitely not take Propavan for a few nights. My sleeping can't get any worse and I won't have such horrible hangovers. I used to be able to accept the hangovers because the pill was working. But without it working why should I endure the hangovers? So sometime next week I'll skip the Propavan for a few days. I know it has a sedative effect too so I guess I'll have increased anxiety. But I have Valium now so I can somehow make it work. 

I have also decided that I need to get things done. I feel like I'm wasting away my days with the internet and TV. I'm often surprised when it's evening and I really haven't done anything productive at all during the day. I'm most creative and productive during the evenings, that's when I write, that's when I do my DIY. But I should fill the days with something too. So I thought about doing a timetable, I have done it before and it worked alright. It would do a lot about the guilt, the feeling of being lazy. I know, it's the anxiety and the depression that's holding me back. But I should at least give it a try. I could clean for instance. Or read. I haven't been reading a lot lately which is totally weird. I love reading. Our apartment is never chaotic but it just isn't clean. We'll see, if not taking the Propavan gives me more energy I can give it a try.

I can't stop thinking and worrying about the whole bipolar and Lithium-thing. I have even been thinking about trying Seroquel again. I only gave it a two days-trial and then gave up on it. The Abilify and the Zyprexa helped but gave me bad side-effects. Maybe the Seroquel will help too? I really should give those thoughts a rest. Not think about it for a few days and then look at it with fresh eyes. I've been hearing and reading so many different things about the Lithium so I really don't know. When it comes to medication it really comes to the individual level, every person reacts to it differently.

I wish my brain would function normally right now. I feel like a zombie. My boyfriend just went out to do some errands. Well, mostly my errands. I needed new glue for my mail art things. But he also needed to go to the pharmacy to fetch his allergy-meds. So I don't have to feel guilty about him going out just for me. I think I'll do the dishes now, then fold the laundry and then try to exercise. I need to get out of this zombie-like state. 

Bipolar?!?

I wanted write an entry yesterday but I was just way too tired. I couldn't focus on anything, let alone write in a language that isn't my mothertongue. I'm having a bad headache today, I took a painkiller this morning, got all drowsy, went back to bed, slept for another two hours and now I think I'm well enough to tackle this day.

So I had the appointment with my new psychiatrist yesterday. It was really difficult for me to get up at 7 a.m., my boyfriend literally had to drag me out of bed. I had two panic-attacks, one in the car on the way to the psych-center, I calmed down and we went inside and I had another panic attack in the waitingroom. As I'm a controlfreak, I can control my reactions to some extent. I don't start crying or screaming. So most people don't even realize when I have a panic attack. Maybe if they sit next to me and they hear me hyperventilating. 

The psychiatrist is a man in his 50s. He was really friendly and I felt at ease right away. He has worked in the pharmaceutic industry for years, doing testings with Abilify and Seroquel. That might make some people suspicious but I thought that was cool because that means that he has a lot of knowledge concerning meds, something that most psychiatrists don't have. He had read my whole (!!!) file which I found very surprising. Most psychiatrists I have met can't even remember your name and they tell you to give them a summary of your life and the meds you have taken. We talked for almost an hour, another positive thing, I often only had gotten 15 minutes of a doctor's time because they are so stressed out. 

So what did he say? He was very honest and said that he doesn't think that I'd be getting any better with only therapy. He said that the therapy will have to last for years and years and that psychodynamic therapy probably is right for me because it has an intellectual perspective. But it won't be enough. I can agree with that, I have done the DBT for a year after all and I haven't improved a bit, nope, I even got worse. He also said that he doesn't look at diagnosiseses in the first place but at the people and the symptoms that he can do something about with medication. And that's fair in my opinion, there is no medical cure for any mental illness and there is not much known about the brain's functions anyway. He told me that after having read my journal he suspects that one of the main illnesses I have is Bipolar Disorder. He doesn't think that I have any personality disorders. He said that my main problem is the anxiety, so I definitely have all those anxiety disorders. And the PTSD is pretty obvious as well. 

So we talked about the Bipolar thing for a while. He said it is Bipolar 2 and that my hypomanic phases just never caused any huge trouble for me because they made me more effective and creative and that that had been a good thing for me, my studies and my writing. And I think that could be true. I have times when I am way more effective and creative, almost obsessed with things and I succeed with about everything I do. And then I have times, mostly when I'm really depressed, when I can't focus at all and I feel like all my abilities and talents have just left me. I just never connected it all together. It's the same with being talkactive. Damn, I can talk a lot and really fast at times. But then I have periods when I don't say much at all. But I'm not impulsive and I never think that I'm a genious or anything. I'm not too sure what to think of all of this. Do I even want to have yet another diagnosis? This is what happens when you have to switch psychiatrists all the time. Everyone says something else. At least no one thinks I have Borderline Personality Disorder anymore. So yay.

Medication. We didn't speak much about sleepingpills because I have already tried all the ones that are out there. He said that I could try to cut down on the Propavan for a while and then take it again, maybe my body will react to it better then. So I'll try to be without it for a couple of nights, maybe next weekend. The most amazing and baffeling thing happened. Well, we all know that psychiatrists are against benzodiazipines, mostly because there are some low-lifes out there who take them illegaly to get high ( hate hate hate those people, they are really making it more difficult to get help when you actually are in need of sedatives). But nope, my new psychiatrist actually offered me a stronger and more long-lasting benzo than the one I'm usually taking. He actually couldn't believe that no one had taken my anxiety seriously before. He of course gave me the talk: not to take the med too often, not overdose, not take it with alcohol. Anyway, I have Valium now. I also convinced him to give me a prescription for the Oxazepam, in case the Valium doesn't work for me. Well, and then he suggested Lithium. He said that it could level my feelings out and that it will do something about my suicidality. I asked him to give me some weeks to think about it. I did a google search, talked with two of my friends who are bipolar and I read up on side-effects. And I have decided to not try it. I have gained sooooooo much weight due to hospital stays and medication, I just can't gain anymore. It's not good for my self-confidence and most importantly, it's not good for my body. And I have PCOS so I don't even think I can take Lithium with that. And there is this HUGE fear of side-effects that I have. The things I have gone through with other meds, I just don't want to re-live that. Nope. The only two meds that actually made me feel better were Lamictal and Abilify, both moodstabilizers, both work for people who are bipolar. Are there any more moodstabilizers out there? What am I to do!?! I know antidepressants haven't worked on me at all so far ...

Uh, and then he gave me the phone-number to his office. I was in shock. I have NEVER gotten the number of a psychiatrist. I never had the possibility to contact them. I almost hugged him because I was so overwhelmed by all of this. I mean, he has read my file, he actually gave me and my problems some attention and real thought. He wasn't demeaning, he treated me like a person. Oh, and he is writing a book right now and as he has had read in my file that I'm good with words he asked me to write a poem or a short prosa-piece on how I have been treated by psych-professionals. I'll give that a try. I'll meet him in three weeks again and hopefully he has another suggestion than Lithium. 

I'm really confused right now. Am I really bipolar? Should I try any more medication? I'll try not to think about it this weekend. At the moment I'm just glad that I've met the first friendly psychiatrist since my journey with mental illness started. Sadly enough, he'll only work at the center until autumn. Now that's my luck!