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.

I've lost control again

Yeah, it has taken me yet another month to update my blog. I think it's a good thing because I would have only caused confusion if I had tried to describe my state of my mind. I actually have trouble grasping my state of mind right now. I don't know where I am in my life, where I am in my head, whether I'm dead or alive.

The last few weeks have been a path into total darkness. I don't know why it hit me, I don't know what exactly has dragged me down. Is there always a reason? People tend to ask what has happened if you tell them that you are feeling bad. But there isn't always a cause- and effect-relationship that is obvious. There have been things that have immensly influenced me during the last few months and I guess they contributed to me slowly giving up on life. I always know that I'm close to the abyss when I don't want to fight anymore, when there is no will. I have difficulties when it comes to changes anyway. But when I'm really down, I don't want to change anything, the only change I want is to make it stop. I have lost my will to fight and my will to live. The last few months I have been fighting like crazy but how do you keep on fighting against a shadow that is slowly dragging you into hell? How do you see the light? I don't know.

The restless legs and spasms hadn't been getting any better so I eventually called the emergency number of the psych-center I'm going to because my mental health was in a really bad state because of that stupid Propavan-withdrawal. I had to wait for a week for an appointment with an emergency-psychiatrist who works at the center. I wish he was my regular psychiatrist because he was the kind of professionel who had definitely chosen the right job. He took his time for me, we discussed everything for an hour. He asked tons of questions. He took me seriously (!) and prescribed some meds for the akathasia (he thinks that's what I have). He also told me to stop taking the Propavan altogether because it was obviously no good for me and that my brain wouldn't be able to recover if I was giving it more of the med. So I stopped taking the Propavan and I haven't taken it for more than two weeks now.

Then I got a bad cold. I was too scared to try out the med I had been prescribed because I had asthma and it is known to give asthma. I actually still haven't tried it out although my legs often drive me insane and I can't walk for a long time because my legs are really weak. Not taking the Propavan led to no sleep. The Zoplicone (other sleeping med I'm taking) stopped working on me. So I've had many many sleepless nights. Most nights I don't get more than three hours of sleep. Weirdly enough I'm not too tired in my body, but it is really making my head spin.

In all that I suddenly got really sad and desperate. It could be the restless legs and the lack of sleep. I also don't eat properly because the thyroid-hormone I'm taking is making me feel sick so my appetite is gone. I have lost quite a lot of weight actually. It's a lot of things contributing to this. I'm also stressed out by my studies, my boyfriend is in a bad depression right now, our car broke down. Just a lot of things happening. So I have given up the fight. I have constant anxiety. I'm crying a lot. I barely get out of bed. I have lost interest in everything. Like, my sister and mum are coming to visit us for a week on Christmas and I should be planning things. But I don't care.

So, as you might have guessed, this all led to me being really suicidal. Now, I haven't done a lot of suicide attempts in my life. I have always somehow gotten help before it got that far. So I personally hope that the risk for me doing something drastic is small. I have been talking about this with my therapist for the last two weeks. He has called me a lot, to check up on me. And he has been trying to get me in touch with a psychiatrist. He has been mentioning getting put into hospital which I'm totally against. I hate being at the hospital!!! But he really felt like that he needed some back up by a doctor.

The last week has been crazy for me. I self-harmed! That's not like me. But last week, three times. My arms look terrible and they sting! I had written goodbye-letters, planning my suicide, all the things one really shouldn't do. I triggered myself with a lot of things, reading up on stuff on the net. On Friday night I had to call the ER because I was totally out of my mind. It was 4 a.m., I hadn't been sleeping and I had spent two hours cleaning and brushing my shoes. If you take Zoplicone and you don't fall asleep on it, you can get really weird in your head. I got the worst help ever: "Take a sedative. Good luck. Bye!" Huh? 

Today I had an appointment with my therapist and a psychiatrist, the same one I have seen just three weeks ago. Before the meeting I had been really scared that they would admit me to the hospital. I was convinced that that was going to happen. I even had a bag packed. But nope. This doc is just amazing. He first told me that he would never section me which made me feel so safe. We discussed what has been going on and well, he said that the most important thing right now is that I get sleep. So I'll have to take Atarax for a week or so before going to bed, together with the Zoplicone. I hate Atarax, it really makes me sleepy, never helped for my anxiety and I get a terrible hangover from it. But what to do? And then he told me that I'm the one in control, I'm the one to take decisions. I liked that. When it comes to psychiatric help, I often feel like I'm out of control, I am being played around with. I basically said I know that I'm in a really really bad state right now but that I don't think that the hospital is the right place for me. But I have also been honest and told him that I can't promise anything, that I can't say what I will and won't do. I also didn't want to promise to call or contact anyone. I hate to lie so I'm rather honest. But he was fine with it. He somehow trusts me. I don't know why. Why does he trust me when I don't even trust myself? Maybe he can see something I can't see?!? Really, I wish he was my regular psychiatrist.

I don't know how I'm doing. I'm scared. Scared of myself. I can't trust myself. The self-harming totally threw me off. This is not me. I've promised myself to take the Atarax and Zoplicone during the nights. Maybe that will make my head clearer. Because right now I really can't think straight. My mood and my thoughts are all over the place. But somehow I got a tiny bit of will back, a tiny bit of strength. I think it has a lot to do with Dr.E saying that I'm in control. I need to be in control. 

GAH!

I really don't want to complain about this anymore. But the restlessness in my legs and arms is driving me nuts. I'm somewhat in pain too because my all my muscles are tensed all the time. The spasms aren't getting any better either. What annoys me the most is that I have tried to get help for it and I have been refused. My (new) psychiatrist told me that she can't prescribe anything for physical issues, even if it's withdrawal-symptoms from meds I'm getting from her. My GP doesn't really take the problem seriously. Sure, she tested my blood for all sorts of things and found out that I have hypothyroidism and vitamin D-defiency. But that's not what's causing my restless legs or the spasms. I know it is Propavan-withdrawal. But she she didn't listen. She just told me that she was glad she didn't prescrible L-dopa to me. L-dopa is the most common med against restless legs in Sweden. It has tons of side-effects. But at this point I wouldn't care. Give me anything, give me fucking horseshit to chew on if it is known to help! So what are my options? Take a whole dosage of Propavan again and give up forever to ever get off the pill. Or get through it and hope for the best. At the moment I'm sticking with the second option. Logically and stastistically, it should get better after a while. When I went down from a whole pill to a 3/4-pill I got restless legs and spasms three weeks after that. It was really bad for two to three weeks and then it got a bit better. So I went down to half a pill about three weeks ago. So in about two to three weeks it might get better. That's what I need to focus on. If in one month from now it has gotten any better, I'll give up. I could talk to my GP again but really, I don't think she will listen. Restless legs is something old people have, she said. And she totally ignored my comments about the Propavan. Another thing I could do is take Oxazepam. It didn't help before and I don't think it would help much now. But it is muscle-relaxing and it could reduce the anxiety I'm getting from this. So maybe I should just turn to good old benzo. 

Despite the damn issues I'm struggling with, I have been a good girl during the last two days. On Thursday I finally applied for a new ID-card and passport. I have been avoiding this so much because of the photo that has to be taken. I hate getting my picture taken, it gives me lots of anxiety and my self-hate always reaches new levels when I see myself on a photo. And especially those small photos for ID-cards and passports tend to look hideous! So I went to the police station and got my photo taken. I just asked the woman if my eyes were open on the photo, she said yes, and I told her to take the photo. I didn't want to look at the photo properly because I knew it would break me. I paid the 750 SEK (fucking expensive!), let them scan my fingerprints and signed. So that's finally done. Now I'll have to wait for another week and I can fetch the ID-card and passport. After that I went to the library (well, we, my hubby was with me, I don't think I have left the apartment on my own for months) to return some books, then to the post office to fetch a package full of books, then to the pharmacy and then to the supermarket to buy lots of fruit. On the way back to the car my legs gave in! It was really crazy, I was so weak. It must have been panic plus the restless legs. I was all dizzy and weird and I thought I was going to faint. So my hubby had to help me back to the car. I'm so dam pathetic!

Yesterday morning someone had to come into our apartment to check the ventilation system. They do that every few years, the law says so. I hate having strange people in my apartment! And I hate when they tell you that they will come somewhere between 8 a.m. and 4 p.m.. This only builds up extra-anxiety. The doorbell rang at 8.30 a.m., a young guy. I had just gotten up and was stll in my PJs. Anxiety, shame, trying to explain myself why I'm not normal and already up and busy early in the morning. I finally got the ultrasound of my thyroid done. I had to go to a clinic some miles from where we live to get that done. It was terrible to be in the waitingroom for half an hour because my legs were driving me crazy, I was in panic because there were so many people around and I just didn't want to seem weird and move around my legs all the time. T E R R I B L E! I was close to dissociating. When they called my name I first didn't even get that they meant me. I changed my last name when I got married and I'm not used to that yet. So they scanned my thyroid and it looks fine. The doctor there was really nice but that didn't help me much. I was on my back and someone was pressing a scanner against my throat. I was in panic! Well, at least I don't have an enlarged thyroid. Then we went grocery shopping and even to a shopping center to check one of their home improvement stores because we need new curtains. And it happened again: I got all weak, my legs were like rubber, I could barely stand up on my own. I really think it must be a combination of the withdrawal and panic/anxiety. My legs must be weak from all the spasms and I can't just walk around for hours. 

Today I have been super-anxious because of the withdrawal. But I'm trying to ignore all the bad stuff. I'm trying to keep busy. I have gotten a reply from my professsor, he has read my paper and he gave me an A. So yay, first paper/exam passed. I'm satisfied with myself. Now I hope I have passed the Russian-exam as well. Today I have worked on a paper that has to be in a few days and I have learned Russian vocabularies by heart. Trying to keep busy. Trying so hard. But I think I'll soon be standing in front of my medicine cabinet, taking out an Oxazepam. The anxiety is bad. Suicide is always a last resort in my head. Not good.

I'm still alive, hello again

Hello! Remember me? I'm still alive. I just haven't been able to connect with myself, with my creative side. I couldn't type anything concerning my feelings or thoughts, I have been disconnected. I'm not too sure if I'm actually back, back in my head, back in my body. I have been an empty shell. It has just been weird. I didn't want to force myself to write something, I would have just gotten desperate and sad. But tonight I felt like I should give it a try. It's almost one a.m. and I probably should be going to bed. Soonish.

So much has happened. And at the same time I'm still in the same state of mind as I was in my last post. It has been going up and down. Right at this moment I'm just sad and I feel totally worthless. I have been thinking a lot about suicide during the last few days. And it really doesn't help that my husband seems to have fallen into a depression too. He is complaining a lot, whining a lot and he is often desperate, sad. He is discussing things that could happen, like his sister dying, or him dying, or me dying. And he doesn't hold it in like I often do. He is really talkactivre about it. I'm trying to listen and to just validate his feelings. I think we are dragging each other down these days. We had a good moment today though. We took a nap (yes, nap, no interpretation needed there) together this afternoon, hugging tightly. It was warm and cozy. Maybe that helped him a bit. 

I have gotten into therapy and I meet my therapist once or twice a week. He is alright. He is maybe a few years older than me and he seems to be a typical Swede. I totally confused him with my style and he asked me things like if I was a satanist, if I worship death, if I use my looks as an armour against others. I think he now gets what goth is and that I dress the way I do because I find it aesthetically appealing. I like that we are discussing things. That we are reflecting. He is both a CBT and a psychodynamic therapist. But we are doing psychodynamic therapy, just sometimes he is offering a CBT point of view. I think I will be able to understand myself better one day. I think this kind of therapy is right for me because it is about intellectualizing issues instead of actually trying to change them by action. I need to understand to be able to act.

I'm still trying to get off the Propavan. It is hell! But this time I'm determined. I'm down to half a pill now. For a few weeks I had had the worst restless legs. I was crying a lot about it. I talked to both my new psychiatrist (she is alright, just a bit condescending at times) and my GP about it. None of them wanted to give me some meds for it because I'm too sensitive to meds. Great. I don't think they even understood that it is a withdrawal-symptom. Idiots. During the last two days mys spasms have come back. This morning I have been  almost paralyzed in bed for two hours, my muscles were so stiff and I had small spasms all over my body. But it has gone away by itself before so I hope it will do the same this time. The restless legs are back too. They have started again the other, day after I had exercised. They are not only restless, they also hurt weirdly. Maybe it's some muscle pain from the spasms. Same with my arms. But this time, this time, I will stop taking the Propavan. I'm not giving up again. It can't get much worse. But honestly, I'm feeling really sorry for myself. Self-pity.

I met my GP because of the restless legs. She is a nervous Russian woman with a bad accent. I often don't understand what she is saying. But she seems to really to want get to the root of things. I had to leave blood and urine samples twice. And it turns out that I have major vitamin D defiency and I have hypothyroidism. Now I at least know why I am fat. Boohoo. My mental issues probably don't come from my thyroid-issues but they could have been worsened by it. They have checked my thyroid-levels a lot during the last three years and they were always alright. So I was quite shocked when I got told that my thyroid is messed up. For three weeks I have now taken a synthetic thyroid-hormone (levaxin). I don't feel much of a change. My energy-levels are fluctuating. I can go from hyperactive to dead tired within an hour, and then back to hyperactive again. I'm on the lowest dosage at the moment. I'll get a ultrasound of my thyroid done this week. I should have gotten it done last week but the office was closed when I got there. I'm also taking vitamin D supplements. I wish I hadn't PTSD and social anxiety. My mood swings could be the thyroid though. We'll see. So basically, my mind and my body are ill and messed up.

My university-studies are going alright. I'm trying. I have had two exams the last two weeks. I really hope that I'll pass. I'm trying so hard. Unfortunately I have not been able to stick to any routines. My sleep is messed up so I just can't get up early. But I'm studying a few hours every day. I'm so thankful that there is something like distance learning. 

Most of my student benefits have gone to our flat. We have renovated the kitchen, painted the walls and all that. We have bought new lamps for the all rooms, we have hung up 10 posters, we have bought small decorative items. So now our flat is all goth and cozy. I really like what we have done. There are still a few more things we need to get done but I'm totally broke now. And there is some part of our car that needs to be repaired (don't ask me what ...) and that will cost us 3000 SEK. I'm used to being broke so I really don't care too much. 

Today I met my friend T. She came over. She is also suffering from mental illness so we don't need to pretend in front of each other. She seemed a bit medicated. She is taking three antipsychotics these days, eight meds altogether. Poor girl. It was really good to meet her. She only stayed for two hours though. I think her social anxiety got too strong. This was the first time I have actually met a friend since February. And I'm really exhausted. Being social is exhausting. I just wish I had more strength. I miss many of my friends. At the same time I really don't want to meet anyone. 

So my life is still somewhat pathetic. I'm really pathetic. But I am trying. Really trying. 

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.

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.

*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".

Restless

It's another hot day and I'm starting to get annoyed. Well, my skin is annoyed already. It's itching. We haven't had rain for seven weeks! Oh well, at least we are having a proper summer. I'm drinking some ice-coffee. I didn't have vanilla ice-cream or whipped cream so I used chocolate ice-cream and milk. It's tasty anyway.  T, my social worker, was here today. I hadn't seen him since the beginning of June because I once cancelled on him, he once cancelled on me and then he was on his four week long summer-vacation. We sat on the balcony and just talked. He fell  in love with our new kitten. He couldn't take his eyes of the cat, cuddled him, played with him and blantly said he wants to steal the kitten. Haha. I updated him a bit on the events in my life. He told me to talk with my psychiatrist about doing a proper plan about what to do when he has left the center. Because I probably will end up without a psych-contact for a few months again. It was good to see T again. I somehow need to be social. I like talking with people. I love discussions. Today I especially hate my social anxiety!

I'm still on the Seroquel. Yesterday I was dizzy all day long and I felt really weird and uncomfortable. It just felt like there was poison in my veins. It was terrible. But I was somehow more focused. I could read for hours, I wrote a few poems and I even vaccuumed the whole apartment. Today I feel really restless, especially in my legs. I'm close to going insane! Moving the legs doesn't help. I exercised for 30 minutes and still, restless. I hope this is only temporarily. I remember that being on Zyprexa caused me restless legs too. And Abilify even gave me akathisa. That was terrible! I hope this restlessness will not turn into that state. Anyway, so far, although it's quite annoying, I can handle the restlessness. I mean, for weeks I have had the same kind of sensation while I was trying to reduce the Propavan. The dizziness has almost disappeared. I felt a bit dizzy this morning but it wasn't as bad as the last two days. I have kind of lost my appetite and can't eat much. Really, the thing that I'm most concerned about right now is this restlessness.

I have also had some positive effects: Seroquel helps me fall asleep. I am knocked out within 45 minutes by it. It also takes away the nightmares I usually have from the Propavan. I feel alright when I wake up. So I'm not giving up on this yet. I have decided to at least take it until Monday. I'll call my psychiatrist and discuss with him what to do. I hope the restlessness and the uncomfortable feeling has disappeared by then. 

My boyfriend is off from work for three weeks now. It feels good to know that I won't have a lot of lonely moments in the next few weeks. 

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 trying, really trying, I promise

I'm anxious and restless. But that's nothing new, is it? At least it's not the kind of restlessness I had when I tried to get off the Propavan. I have slept 9 hours last night and that's exactly what I needed. So at least I'm not too exhausted today. I still feel really hungover though. As always I had lots of things planned for today but I really haven't done much yet. I just washed the dishes and tidied up the the bedroom. Let's hope there's more that I can do today. I have a lot to write, a letter, reply to an email and finish a short story I have been working on for some time now. 

The anxiety feels a bit increased which could have to do with that I'm supposed to get my period soon. All my mental issues get worse when I'm pms-ing. My period hasn't been exactly regular lately though. So I don't know. The day before yesterday I was really suicidal which also tends to happen before I get my period. So I just hope that's the reason why. I  read up on suicide-statistics and some discussions on why suicide is selfish. But I'm not in that state of mind today. I have actually started planning my mum's visit. We don't have any money, she doesn't have any money. So we have decided to fill the car with petrol with our last savings so we can get out while she is here. I was thinking about doing a picnic somewhere in a park, taking a walk somewhere in nature, on my boyfriend's birthday we'll visit his favourite café. Yesterday I have also been checking up on exhibitions and museums which are free. I have seven days to fill with things. We'll stock up on food before she comes so we don't have to eat out. My mum hangs a lot on chatrooms on the internet so she can use my netbook. I already have fixed a cable through a wall into the guestroom so she'll have internet there. I think we'll somehow make this week work. My boyfriend is also off from work that week so if I'm having a bad day, the two of them can go out together. I'm never happy about my mum visiting. I have to be pretend to be okay. And my routines get disturbed. I have to get up early in the morning for instance. I have to be social. I have to go out. But yeah, she only comes around once a year so it's okay.

I have been outside the appartment yesterday! For the first time in five weeks. I just needed to get some things at the supermarket, beauty things, hairdye. And it felt good to put some make-up on, fix my hair, put some decent clothes on. For the last five weeks I have been running around in long shirts and leggings.My boyfriend told me several times how good I was looking It went alright although I had a panic attack in the parking lot. So my weeks of isolation are over! Next week my social worker is back from his vacation so I'll have to meet him once a week. Well, but I'm still having trouble meeting friends. I still haven't replied to A's message. And yesterday P asked if he could come over but I told him I was busy. I hate myself for that! 

At the moment I'm trying to force myself to call my father. His grandmother has given my mum two very expensive necklaces. She is from Iran and she visited us once when I was maybe 10 years old. That's the only time I have ever seen her. She died in the early 90s. So those necklaces are for my sister and me, for the day when we get married. I'm getting married in August and I really want that necklace. I have nothing else to remind me of my Iranian grandmother. So I told my mum I want her to bring it along when she comes to visit us. But my father refuses  to let her take the necklace. He thinks that she wants to sell it. My father is delusional! She would never do that! So he told her he wants to give it to me. But I haven't been in Germany for three years and I'm not planning to go there any time soon. And he knows that. So he said he'll send it instead. As if that was safe?!? So I need to call him (should have done that days ago) and tell him that I want my mum to give me the necklace when she is here. I just don't have the courage to pick up the phone right now. I know it's going to be a difficult situation. He'll badmouth my mother. But I want that necklace because I want to have something to remember my grandmother by!

I have an appointment with my psychiatrist next Tuesday. I'm a bit scared of that meeting to be honest. I mean, I haven't done anything he had told me to do. I still haven't tried a whole Valium one more time. I haven't taken the Seroquel. And I have been isolating myself, been suicidal and didn't call any helpline or asked for help. I just know that he'll give me that disappointed look. I wonder if he will say that it seems like I don't want any help. Or if he'll say that he can't help me anymore. I have even thought about cancelling the appointment. I just hate to admit that I'm complicating things.

I'm having my third cup of coffee for today. It's time for lunch/dinner soon. I think I want to read until then. So far I'm not hating this day yet.

Right back to the beginning

I gave up. I'm back on the full dosage of my sleeping medication. I don't really know if that was the right decision but I just couldn't take the restlessness and increased anxiety anymore. I even tried to take half a Valium the other day but I didn't feel anything from it. So next time I'll try a whole Valium. I guess I really shouldn't play around with my meds like that. Anyway. The restlessness is gone. And although I have anxiety it isn't dissociative anxiety. I think that's what I had while taking less of the Propavan, I was totally gone. But now the side-effects have returned. I have a huge lack of energy, I'm basically constantly hungover. It feels like I've gone from 100 to 0 in levels of energy. I have weird dreams again. I'm so dry in mouth and nose. And I can't say that I'm sleeping better. I think I'm sleeping a bit more, maybe three hours more. But I still wake up a lot and that's what the Propavan is for, to let me sleep through a night without waking up constantly. Anyway, at least the restlessness is gone. And I'll use the advice one of the doctors are the hospital gave me once: exercise so the Propavan leaves the system quicker. So I'll exercise soon. And hopefully I'll get out of this lethargic state. Honestly, I don't think I could have taken one more day with only the half dosage. It just wasn't the right time to get off the Propavan. But one day, one day in the future I'll get rid of it!

So things are back to "normal". My boyfriend is back at work and I'm on my own most of the time. I have two cats to take care of instead of one. And I'm kind of constantly checking what they are doing. Yesterday they actually cuddled and slept together. I was so happy about that! Apart from that I'm really doing nothing. It's always the same: before going to bed I'm thinking of all the things I want to get done the next day but when the next day comes I just can't deal with anything. I don't really know what I'm spending my days with. Tidying up the apartment, cooking, the internet, cats. I've kind of reached a state of lethargy and indifference. I don't care if it's a new day. I don't want to be challenged. Everybody should just leave me alone. I'll just sit here and wait for death, if it comes tomorrow or in 40 years, I don't care. 

I'm really upset with myself. I know that social contact is good for me. It gives me more self-confidence. And I need someone to penetrate my isolated and subjective way of thinking. I just know it's important for me. But because of my "whatever"-attitude right now I just can't be bothered to actually go out and meet other people. My friend A is the only person who still makes an effort. No one I know in real life has contacted me in, mmmm, maybe two months?!? A has written to me on Facebook two days ago. He just wanted to know how I was doing. But I know that if I reply to him he'll ask me if we can meet up. He used to be something like my best friend for a while. I just CAN'T meet him. I want it so bad. I want to have fun, discuss things, laugh, give him advice, get intellectually challenged. But nope. I don't reply to his message. Instead I'm really frustrated with myself, and at the same time I tell myself that this has been my own voluntarily choice, I don't want to meet other people. Lethargy. I'm better off with just my boyfriend and my two cats. I'm not. I'm lonely. So damn lonely. 

But yeah, next week I have things planned, the week after that my mum will come to visit us for a few days, my boyfriend's birthday (which will be a sad one because no one of us has money for anything :/) and then we'll get married (we can't afford rings but whatever). Yeah.

Dismiss your emotions

I think I'm alright at the moment. I'd rather not give myself a minuteto give it a second thought. Whenever I try to feel how I'm doing I suddenly experience all kinds of negative emotions. In DBT they taught us (again, DBT= shite for me) that we have to "surf the emotion". I have never been able to define my emotions, to be able to exactly say what I'm feeling. I often just call it a negative mess. And I'm supposed to just let go and let the negative mess take over and "surf" on that wave of emotions. Eh, what?!? Anyway, I don't really want to know how I'm doing. I'm just trying to ignore my feelings, distract myself. I can say that I'm frustrated because I don't get anything done. I basically lose hours of my day with, eh, doing nothing, surfing on the internet without any apparent reason. Like check twitter every two minutes, stalk people on Facebook, read the news on different websites. Or I play games on my phone. And it's frustrating because I have a lot of things that I want to do. There are also other things that I have to do but those I'm not too worried about. I want to focus on things that make me happy or content. I want to exercise but this week I have only been able to do that twice so far. I want to read. I want to write. I want to cook a great meal. You know, the little things. Still, I'm procrascinating from the things I love doing. What the heck?

I'm really undecisive when it comes to the Propavan. Really, every day when I'm at my worst I think:"To hell with it, I'll take the whole dosage again". I mean, it has been three weeks now and my body and my psyche are still acting up. The worst is the restlessness, it's mostly in my legs. It's some kind of physical agitation I think. It's so annoying and can really drive me nuts. I'm trying to stay away from coffee and black tea so my body won't get any more hyped. Well, having said that, I'm drinking a cup of Earl Grey-tea at the moment. But I have really cut back on all caffeine and tea. I still feel like I'm more awake, the hangovers are gone. I wonder how much energy I'll have when I'm totally off the Propavan? I'm sleeping a bit too little at the moment, maybe five hours a night. Last night I took a Zoplicone with my half Propavan and I didn't wake up once during the night. That's good! But yes, the restlessness will drive me nuts eventually. I will continue with the half dosage until the middle of August I think. If I don't all of the sudden listen to my desperate thoughts and actually go back to the whole dosage. Today I'm positive towards the whole thing. And I had a good morning. Our new kitten woke me up by biting my big toe and then licking it. So that kind of brought a smile to my face. T has broken one of our most beautiful vases yesterday. He just threw it on the floor. Haha. I wasn't even angry, I just laughed. The two cats seem to get along with each other. I think T is a bit too energetic for B though. They chase each other, they have real fights without any biting or claws. They are awesome together. But T really has an attention-span of one second and all he wants is to play play play play. B often just often looks at him in amazement. Well, it's never calm here, something is always happening. And that's good.

Today it has been exactly one month since I've last been outside our apartment. This is starting to frustrate me. I have nothing to go out for. At least nothing that is worth the panic attacks and the anxiety I'll get when I'm out. I have now for two weeks tried to get myself to go to that one store that sells the hairdye I need. But I just can't. So my boyfriend will go and buy my hairdye tomorrow. Pathetic, eh? I also need new shaving cream, shaving my legs without it is just not working. Blah. So next week, yes, next week, I'll go to the supermarket together with M. And the week after that I have an appointment with my psychiatrist and my social worker is back from his vacation. And my mum will come to visit us for a week (I soooo don't want her to come, but what I can do?!?). Then it will be M's birthday on the 5th. Tenacious D will play on the 12th and we might go if we can afford it (doubtful). On the 15th we will get married. So in the near future I will have things to go out for. Maybe some routines will be good for me. I kind of lost all of my routines, everything seems so meaningless. Why clean thouroughly if no one comes and visit anyway? Why shower, I won't meet anyone anyway? Yeah, I could do it out of self-respect. But that's something I have never had. But I have showered today, even washed my hair. One step into the right direction.

There will be some changes in our life soon. I've been accepted for the two university-courses I had applied for. They are internet-based courses, so I don't have to physically attend classes. That's perfect for me. The reason why I was put on a sick-leave last autumn was that my anxiety was too much when I was out, amongst people. I was in panic during lecture courses. So I'm not there yet, I can't continue with my Master's studies, not at the moment. So I'll study Russian and philosophy instead ("the history of ideas", it's kind of like philosophy, you could call it philosophic history). Anyway. The courses will start in the beginning of September. I don't know how I will be able to cope with my studies on a daily basis but I think I'll manage. It will be good to have a "must", to just have something meaningful to do to distract myself from the anxiety. I'll be a full-time university-student. And that sounds so much better than "being at home ill". And my boyfriend has decided to do something about his life. He is so fed up with his work. So he wants to study to become a psychiatric nurse. Now, how perfect is that? I'll have my own nurse at home. Haha. No, honestly, I think it's the perfect profession for him. So he has applied for the program. He is almost 50 years old. And he has somehow realized that life is short and that he doesn't want to get stuck in some shitty job, being unhappy and stressed out all the time. So he will now work on his dream. He has always wanted to work with people. He has mental issues himself. He had been an amphetamine-addict for over 20 years. He has been clean for almost 10 years, he has built up a life with me. He has so much to offer, he won't judge and he can relate. Really, he is perfect for the job. So I hope he'll get accepted to the program. That would mean that we would be living off student-benefits. But we have counted it out and we would actually be better off than right now. I have no income at the moment, we only live off his salary and he has to pay off some debt. So there is not much money. But you don't have to pay off your debt if you get student benefits (+loans) so we would actually have around 200 Euros more a month, and that's the least. If we are lucky we can get up to 800 Euros more! How crazy is that? Anyway, first I need to get all the papers right so I can get my benefits, then he has to get into the program and also get the benefits. But the future looks bright. And I'm proud of my man, he is actually doing something about his unhappiness!

Okay, time for dinner. Tuna-salad. My boyfriend is already in the kitchen, cutting vegetables. He has been at home all week because the people at his work are idiots and stress the hell out of him. And he wanted to be with me because I have been doing so much worse with the Propavan. He has sick papers so it's legal and fine. Right, dinner. Then maybe an episode of "Sons of Anarchy".

Mad cats

For once I can start an entry with something positive. We have a new kitten!! So now we have two cats. B, our "old" cat (she's only 2 1/2 years old), is a lovely calm cat. She's all black and has yellow eyes. I really love her. She loves to cuddle and always demands lots of attention. For the last three months or so we have been discussing to get a second cat. First off because we love cats. Honestly, if I had a castle with lots of land I'd probably have dozens of cats. I'd be the crazy cat lady! And secondly, B maybe needs a playmate. I'm at home all the time so it's not that she would be lonely otherwise. It's more like she seems bored a lot, even when we play with her. Sooooo. On Saturday we saw an ad on the internet for a 12-weeks-old kitten and the owners lived close to where we live. So Anders gave them a call and an hour late he entered our front door with our new family member, T. We don't know if the cat is a he or a she though. The owners said that it's a female but me and my boyfriend are really convinced about that the kitten has some balls and a penis down there. Haha. We'll see. The kitten is so cute and so playful and curious! T doesn't like to be touched too much yet so we'll give it time. The kitten loves to play though and isn't scared of anything. And he/she sleeps in our bed with us. We were a bit afraid that B and T wouldn't get along and in the beginning they were not really nice to each other. I think B got really scared (she's always a bit shy in the beginning) and they were mostly shushing each other. But T got really comfortable right away, played with everything he/she could find and B was stalking the kitten. Now they have played with each other a few times, like chasing each other, they smell at each other, their little noses have touched a few times and they eat next to each other. They are not scared of each other at all. They are basically around each other all the time. So it looks really good after just two days! My boyfriend is a bit allergic to T but he was like that with B in the beginning too so hopefully that will pass. Having a small kitten around is like the best thing for depression! T is so cute! And I'm checking on them all the time, seeing if they have made any progress in their friendship. I'm a happy cat-mama!

Oooops, that was a lot of talk about the cats. I'm just so happy and excited about it all! Anyway, I'm still on the half dosage of Propavan. On Sunday I was basically a mess. I had slept like 30 minutes during the night. And I was close to just take a taxi to the hospital. I took sedatives but they didn't help. My boyfriend was so worried about me. Then yesterday I was doing a tad better because I decided to take a Zoplicone and the half Propavan in the evening. I woke up way too early so I took an Atarax (I hate antihistamines, they never help for my anxiety, they just give me terrible hangovers) and it knocked me out. I felt bad during the day. But then I had a long talk with my boyfriend, B and T bouncing around us. That helped. I had then decided to just take the whole dosage of the Propavan again. I just couldn't take the anxiety, the low mood and the restlessness anymore. I was convinced that one more day of this and I'd try to kill myself.

But then it all turned all of the sudden. An hour later my anxiety had vanished, I was calm and content. I could focus on writing a letter and reading a book. I don't know what happened!?! Maybe the worst is over?!? So I only took the reduced dosage again last night, and a Zoplicone. And I woke up without anxiety! Say what?!? Right now I'm doing a bit worse, I'm quite restless and I have a bit of anxiety. But it's on a level I can handle. 

I won't stop taking the Propavan altogether any time soon. My boyfriend suggested another month with the dosage I'm on right now. Maybe that's reasonable. But I'm glad I didn't go back to my old dosage again. I can always do that if I feel like I'm out of it. Tonight I'm going to try to sleep without a Zoplicone. That might make things worse again. I feel like I'm experimenting but how else am I going to get through this? I don't feel like my psychiatrist can help me with this. He doesn't know how I react to meds anyway.

One thing makes me really sad right now. It's summer. Here in the Stockholm area we have 25-30°C and the sun is shining. And it has been like this for two weeks now. But I don't go out. People go and swim in the lakes, meet up in parks for a beer in the shadow, go on walks in nature, have barbecues. I hate Facebook right now, seeing tons of pictures of happy people enjoying summer. But I don't go out. I would want to want to go out. It's so difficult to explain. I want to be like everyone else. No, wrong, I want to be like I used to be. I went out sometimes, never spontanous, but still, I went out. I went to the beach in the evenings. I was invited to barbecues. Now? I haven't left the apartment once in a A WHOLE MONTH! It's summer damn it. Gosh, I hate myself. I really would want to want to go out. I want to have the confidence, the strength, the stability to be around other people. This makes me so sad. I'm pathetic. My life is pathetic. I'm missing out on my own life. 

Holding on

I haven't felt this bad in months. This constant anxiety is turning me into a real mess. I'm always on the edge to panic and I'm bascially petrified. The last two days I've been sitting on the sofa, playing brainkilling games on my smartphone, just so I don't need to feel or think. That's all I can do right now, distract myself with simple things. Reading or writing are out of the question at the moment. I can't focus. I have lost all my apetite and hunger. I even forgot to shower. The only thing on my mind is: make it stop. I can't take it anymore. I'm getting really desperate.

I'm still convinced that this was triggered by the reduction of the dosage of Propavan. First I've been on a high for four or five days and then I crashed, badly. I feel like I'm in a cage and I can't get out. I feel so trapped. I want to just scream out my pain. This is so terrible!

But I'm holding on to one thought: This state is only temporary. I won't be this bad forever. It will pass and I'll get back to my usual depressed and anxious state that I can handle. It's just a matter of time. I'm repeating this in my head over and over again. This is only temporary, it will get better.

But still, I'm in a desperate state. I'm so restless. I'm so anxious. I'm so sad. I can't remember when I last cried so much. But I'm also proud of myself. I have stayed out of the hospital so far. I have not been in bed all day long. I've been able to stick to some simple routines. I've not hurt myself. I've ignored the suicidal thoughts that pop into my head. And I'm still determined to stop taking the Propavan. Tonight I'll take the last one and then I'm off. But I'm a bit afraid of what will happen to me. I'm afraid of getting even worse. Because if I get any worse I'll most likely lose it.

I even took a sedative the other day. That's also something that I'm proud of. I'm so much against medication because it doesn't solve my problems in the long run. But I assessed my situation and I decided it was for the best. I think that this is just a temporary solution for my temporary state. I haven't tried the Diazepam again but I'll do it the next time I need a sedative.

I've had a terrible dream last night. I dreamt that my brother was in some kind of boxing game and they were fighting to the death. And I couldn't see who was winning. And then one of the boxers died and everybody was screaming. And I was in panic looking for my brother. They hung up the dead person in a tree but I still couldn't see who it was. I was screaming, crying, looking for my brother. Then I found him, in a bathroom, shaking, crying. So when I woke up this morning I was in panic. Not a great start for a day. And then I stepped into cat poo, with my bare feet. My cat sometimes gets really excited when she's in her litter box so she forgets that she's actually taking a dump and runs out of the bathroom, still poo coming out. Yup. She's weird like that.

I'll try to watch a movie later. That's my plan for today. I'm trying to avoid to think about how I actually never will get much better because there's no help out there for me. I'll hold on to the thought that the state I'm in right now is only temporary. Any more thinking than that and I'll sink into the depths of darkness.