The past few months, I've really been struggling with my faith. It's been really difficult and it's been weighing on my mind quite a bit, so I just need to write things out I guess. I recently decided to make a permanent move from the University Branch, to the family ward, and it's directly related this struggle of faith I've had. There's no one single reason why I decided this, there's a lot of reasons that factored into it, and I know a lot the reasons are even partly (or mostly) my fault. I know the church is true...but beyond that...I don't really know where my place is in the gospel/applying it to my life.
It wasn't something that just suddenly happened- it's been growing for a few months now. Since I'm pretty open about it nowadays, most of you know I struggle with severe depression and anxiety. What has become more and more frustrating for me, is that because of the depression, I often can't feel the Spirit when I need to. For the most part, I understand (and do my best to accept) that this clearly isn't something the Lord is going to take away from me. For whatever reason, this is a trial I'm supposed to experience and continue to face. What I get angry, frustrated, and confused about is that in my darkest moments, I can't feel the Spirit when I need it the most, when I just need a little bit of comfort. This anger and frustration has been growing and growing. I began to feel alone and abandoned. I have felt like Heavenly Father and the Lord have left me all alone and don't hear my silent, or very vocal pleas for help. The angrier I felt, the more frustrated I became, the more I felt alone, the less I would do the things I should- such as reading my scriptures and praying. The less I did those things, of course, the more alone and frustrated I felt, which then resulted in doing those things less. Vicious cycle continues... I've always struggled a little bit with scripture reading, but saying my prayers wasn't usually a struggle. But the less I did the things I was supposed to, the less I read my scriptures, the less I went to church, the more my mind convinced me that I SHOULDN'T pray. Every time I thought about it, all I could hear was, "you haven't done squat lately, why would Heavenly Father do anything for you right now." Yes, I "know" that's not how it works, but sometimes it's hard to realize that.
There was a situation last week, where I made the decision that I was going to drink- the temptation has been creeping up and growing for some time, and I just broke down and decided to give in. I was out with friends from work, and I ordered a drink. Got a couple of sips in and noticed a huge fly in my drink. Flagged down the waitress and she was going to bring me another, but I was so turned off at the thought of having the same drink where the fly came from, I opted for something different (non-alcoholic). In the moment, I know why that happened, and honestly, it's probably a good thing it happened. BUT, it honestly made me really mad and upset- "Heavenly Father can intervene when I'm going to make a not-so-wise decision, but I can't feel a thing in my darkest moments when I just need some comfort?!?!?!" Uuuggghhh.
Then I started struggling with going to church in general. It became really overwhelming for me every week. Not just because of all the things I was already struggling with, but also because I've been feeling out of place at church lately. The problem is, my anxiety would get so high, that I didn't want to talk to people, unless I was really comfortable with them. There were so many new people, so many forced introductions, so many people I was uncomfortable with, so I would avoid talking to people. But then I would get mad and feel alone when people I was comfortable with wouldn't talk to me. Ridiculous, right? The thing is, overall, I was feeling left out, unwelcome, unaccepted; not just at church, but even in my personal life/friendships. I know this is all mostly my own fault/doing, but still...it affected me. As changes in the branch happened, people I was close with moved on, lots of new people moved in, home teachers changed, etc etc. Home teachers that I was comfortable with and who kept in contact/visited, changed to home teachers that don't. I know I'm not always someone who is up for official visits, but I always appreciate at least a little bit of contact, especially since I don't have many people I could ask for a blessing if I needed one. The last thing I'm going to do in a dark moment when I could use a blessing, is call up my home teacher(s) that I don't hear from.
Slowly, I've just started to feel like I've outgrown the branch, like it just isn't for me anymore. Don't get me wrong, it's a great place, and I strongly believe it's an awesome place for students, young couples, etc and I think they'll do well there. But I just feel like I don't belong there anymore, so I started thinking about going to the family ward. I decided to try it out last week, and it seemed to go well, and I went again this past week too. The family ward isn't necessarily ideal- it's hectic, there's tons of kids, it's hard to hear sometimes during sacrament meeting and it's filled with people who have known me since I was a kid, watched me grow up, Abe to be honest, it's sometimes a little awkward; but oddly, I kind of felt like it's where I needed to be. So for all these things going on, I'm going to switch to the family ward, and I'm going to strive to get back on track with things.
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
Friday, July 21, 2017
RIP Chester Bennington
It's been a long time since I've written a blog post. I keep thinking about writing one, and what I want to write about, but I ultimately don't write anything. There has been a lot of things going on lately, a lot of things I've been feeling. But this week, something awful happened.
This week, Chester Bennington from Linkin Park took his life.
I don't typically react to celebrity deaths, but I feel like I lost a close friend. I was in TEARS after finding out. Chester, and Linkin Park, got me through a lot of shit as a teenager. Whenever I was in a dark hole, depressed, suicidal, or just upset in general, I would put on my headphones and blast Linkin Park. For just a little while, I felt like someone understood, I felt like someone knew how I felt and that I wasn't alone. I listened to them as I wrote angrily in my journal. I listened to them as I sat in my closet crying all night. I listened to them as I wrote more than one suicide note when I felt like I couldn't go on. I listened to them as I hurt myself because it felt like the only way I could survive.
As I've gotten older, as I've worked more towards recovery and managing everything, I've listened to them, and some of my other "angsty" music (Staind, Sugarcult, The Used, etc etc etc) less and less because it starting to become really triggering, mostly just of all those memories. About a month ago, I saw Linkin Park was going to be playing with Blink 182 in Hershey, so I asked for tickets for a friend and me to go as an early birthday present. That concert was supposed to be next Sunday.
I am heartbroken. I'm sad. I'm angry. But I can also relate, I've been in those places that are so bad it seems like ending your life is the only way out. I've tried, twice.
For years, Chester, Mike, and the rest of Linkin Park got me through some of the hardest times. I know I'm not the only one. Chester was loved, and he is going to be missed so so much. It's like a close friend is gone, and I keep crying over it.
Rest in Peace Chester. We love you! <3 <3 <3
This week, Chester Bennington from Linkin Park took his life.
I don't typically react to celebrity deaths, but I feel like I lost a close friend. I was in TEARS after finding out. Chester, and Linkin Park, got me through a lot of shit as a teenager. Whenever I was in a dark hole, depressed, suicidal, or just upset in general, I would put on my headphones and blast Linkin Park. For just a little while, I felt like someone understood, I felt like someone knew how I felt and that I wasn't alone. I listened to them as I wrote angrily in my journal. I listened to them as I sat in my closet crying all night. I listened to them as I wrote more than one suicide note when I felt like I couldn't go on. I listened to them as I hurt myself because it felt like the only way I could survive.
As I've gotten older, as I've worked more towards recovery and managing everything, I've listened to them, and some of my other "angsty" music (Staind, Sugarcult, The Used, etc etc etc) less and less because it starting to become really triggering, mostly just of all those memories. About a month ago, I saw Linkin Park was going to be playing with Blink 182 in Hershey, so I asked for tickets for a friend and me to go as an early birthday present. That concert was supposed to be next Sunday.
I am heartbroken. I'm sad. I'm angry. But I can also relate, I've been in those places that are so bad it seems like ending your life is the only way out. I've tried, twice.
For years, Chester, Mike, and the rest of Linkin Park got me through some of the hardest times. I know I'm not the only one. Chester was loved, and he is going to be missed so so much. It's like a close friend is gone, and I keep crying over it.
Rest in Peace Chester. We love you! <3 <3 <3
Credit: Linkin Park
Monday, April 10, 2017
Whether I like it or not, depression can be a disability...
I've been thinking about this blog for several weeks now. It's a topic I've struggled to face- disability. Disability is generally defined as a physical or mental condition that limits a person's movements, senses or activities. It's a condition that can get in the way of every day activities and functions. I'm not saying that every case of depression is necessarily a disability, but yes, cases of moderate-severe depression can be considered a disability. Recently, I've had to face this "label", and it hasn't been easy.
So a couple of months ago I made the decision to open up to my managers at work about the depression and anxiety. The biggest reason I decided this was because I was really really struggling with working overnights, and I was constantly trying to find covers for my shift, and it just felt like it was time to say something. Last time I tried to tell my managers what was going on (these were different managers a few years ago), it was a really bad experience, so I was terrified. However, it ended up being really good, they've been really supportive and encouraging. At one point though, my general manager decided to reach out to HR about everything as well, which I wasn't really expecting. After a couple of meetings with someone in HR, she suggested that I get an ADA form filled out by my psychiatrist (ADA=American's with Disability Act). She suggested this because it would help officially keep me off overnight (as my psychiatrist said it was getting in the way of my treatment), and in the event of a sudden leave (aka I go to the hospital or something, which was a possibility at the time because of some medicine changes (and really always is a possibility), that having this form filled out would help protect me.
I walked out of her office almost in tears. I didn't want to be labeled as having a disability! But why did I feel that way? There is nothing wrong with that. The whole process was suggested to help me, not to "punish" or "shame" me. But it's the stigma that society has placed on this idea of disabled that I was afraid of. (Kind of ironic that I try so hard to be vocal and fight against stigmas, but yet am afraid of it at the same time.) In addition to this, I realized that if I am trying to get people to see that mental illnesses are just as real and valid as physical, then I have to accept that mental illness can also be a disability, and considering how debilitating mine can be at times, it is definitely considered a disability.
The good news about all of this, is that now I am legitimately not allowed to work the overnight shift anymore (yay!). Right at the same time of all of this, the hotel lost quite a number of employees between people quitting and a few being fired, so now they're short staffed, including the audit shift (this happened literally the same week I turned in the ADA forms from my doctor, perfect timing!) But now I work A shift, which is 7am-3pm. At the very least, I help out with the first half of the shift and work 7-11am. So I'm in the office Tuesday and Thursdays and at the front desk Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. My hours have gone from 16-20 hours a week, to 30+ hours a week. It's been good, but mentally exhausting. Since I've been able to stay on a regular routine and sleep schedule and get enough sleep and everything so thankfully, physically, I've been feeling okay.
I've also been in the process of getting some forms filled out for my school too. Especially considering it's only been about a year and half since I've received really good treatment for everything, there are several years of school that I really struggled with, and I'm still struggling, so it's looking like I'm not going to be able to finish all my semesters by the final degree deadline. As I was talking to the school about what options I had, they sent me an ADA form as well that I could fill out and submit along with a letter from my doctor/therapist to get an accommodation of more time if it turns out I need it.
I'm grateful for all of this, and I'm glad these options exist, but it's definitely been a journey to go through. :-/
So a couple of months ago I made the decision to open up to my managers at work about the depression and anxiety. The biggest reason I decided this was because I was really really struggling with working overnights, and I was constantly trying to find covers for my shift, and it just felt like it was time to say something. Last time I tried to tell my managers what was going on (these were different managers a few years ago), it was a really bad experience, so I was terrified. However, it ended up being really good, they've been really supportive and encouraging. At one point though, my general manager decided to reach out to HR about everything as well, which I wasn't really expecting. After a couple of meetings with someone in HR, she suggested that I get an ADA form filled out by my psychiatrist (ADA=American's with Disability Act). She suggested this because it would help officially keep me off overnight (as my psychiatrist said it was getting in the way of my treatment), and in the event of a sudden leave (aka I go to the hospital or something, which was a possibility at the time because of some medicine changes (and really always is a possibility), that having this form filled out would help protect me.
I walked out of her office almost in tears. I didn't want to be labeled as having a disability! But why did I feel that way? There is nothing wrong with that. The whole process was suggested to help me, not to "punish" or "shame" me. But it's the stigma that society has placed on this idea of disabled that I was afraid of. (Kind of ironic that I try so hard to be vocal and fight against stigmas, but yet am afraid of it at the same time.) In addition to this, I realized that if I am trying to get people to see that mental illnesses are just as real and valid as physical, then I have to accept that mental illness can also be a disability, and considering how debilitating mine can be at times, it is definitely considered a disability.
The good news about all of this, is that now I am legitimately not allowed to work the overnight shift anymore (yay!). Right at the same time of all of this, the hotel lost quite a number of employees between people quitting and a few being fired, so now they're short staffed, including the audit shift (this happened literally the same week I turned in the ADA forms from my doctor, perfect timing!) But now I work A shift, which is 7am-3pm. At the very least, I help out with the first half of the shift and work 7-11am. So I'm in the office Tuesday and Thursdays and at the front desk Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. My hours have gone from 16-20 hours a week, to 30+ hours a week. It's been good, but mentally exhausting. Since I've been able to stay on a regular routine and sleep schedule and get enough sleep and everything so thankfully, physically, I've been feeling okay.
I've also been in the process of getting some forms filled out for my school too. Especially considering it's only been about a year and half since I've received really good treatment for everything, there are several years of school that I really struggled with, and I'm still struggling, so it's looking like I'm not going to be able to finish all my semesters by the final degree deadline. As I was talking to the school about what options I had, they sent me an ADA form as well that I could fill out and submit along with a letter from my doctor/therapist to get an accommodation of more time if it turns out I need it.
I'm grateful for all of this, and I'm glad these options exist, but it's definitely been a journey to go through. :-/
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Decisions
After the way I've been feeling the past two weeks, and the fact that therapy had been canceled last week, I knew my therapy session yesterday morning was going to be a bit intense. I shared with Karen all the thoughts that had been plaguing my mind, and that I couldn't seem to find an external trigger for me. We decided to do some EMDR to see if there was anything that would come up that needed cleared out, and really, nothing did.
I've worked through a lot of things over the past 14ish months, and even though there still some small things from the past I'm working on, overall, things are mostly okay. Those suicidal and self-harm part were reacting to the depression itself. As we talked about this, Karen asked me about when my dosage was increased on my current medicine (Effexor) and when I had originally started it etc etc and also when my next appointment with Dr. K is (my psychiatrist.) After all of this, Karen strongly believes that my medicine is having the opposite effect it's supposed to and is doing more harm than good.
The problem is, Dr. K is pretty adamant about not taking me off the Effexor because of the withdrawal symptoms, which is understandable, but it's what I wanted when I first started seeing her and I feel like she doesn't listen to what I need. Not to mention she's not very personable. I don't really like her and I was thinking of switching anyways, it's just hard to find one who accepts my insurance. Karen said she had heard some good things about this other place and she's pretty sure they accept my insurance, so I'm going to try to get in there so I don't have to see Dr. K anymore.
Here's where the "decision" aspect comes in. Karen strongly recommends that when come off the Effexor, that I go to an inpatient facility. She the withdrawal symptoms are really bad, and the things I already experience, she wants me to be able to be in a safe, controlled, monitored environment, without the possibility of external distractions causing problems. I get it, and it's probably the best thing to do, but she said I would probably be in there for a week. Just the thought of going kind of terrifies me, but for a whole week? 1. That's a week of hours at work that I can't really lose. Though I'm feeling better about my budget and where I am financially, I still can't really afford to lose a week of pay. 2. Just the thought of it feels kind of isolating. I mean, I know there's people there and all this other stuff, but I wouldn't get to see or talk to a majority of my friends. Sure, most places have limited visiting hours, but the likelihood that those hours would be convenient (or that the location would be convenient) is very very slim. Yes, these are "superficial" things that I shouldn't really be concerned about when it comes to do what is best for my mental health, but they're still there. And truthfully, they're more like "excuses" to cover the fact that it kind of scares me. I'm waiting to hear back from this new office and hopefully get to see a new psychiatrist soon. Maybe she'll have some ideas of taking me off of the Effexor that don't involve going to a facility for a week.
Anyways, things are still really rough. I've been physically exhausted from having to fight everything mentally. I just have this general feeling of not wanting to be alive. I feel drained. I feel alone. I'm hurting. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I'm discouraged. All the things that I keep saying over and over and every time they come out of my mouth, it feels like they have less and less meaning; both to me, and the people who are hearing/reading them. I don't really know how to describe what I'm feeling right now. Like a deflated balloon several days after a party that's losing air and just falling to the ground.
I've worked through a lot of things over the past 14ish months, and even though there still some small things from the past I'm working on, overall, things are mostly okay. Those suicidal and self-harm part were reacting to the depression itself. As we talked about this, Karen asked me about when my dosage was increased on my current medicine (Effexor) and when I had originally started it etc etc and also when my next appointment with Dr. K is (my psychiatrist.) After all of this, Karen strongly believes that my medicine is having the opposite effect it's supposed to and is doing more harm than good.
The problem is, Dr. K is pretty adamant about not taking me off the Effexor because of the withdrawal symptoms, which is understandable, but it's what I wanted when I first started seeing her and I feel like she doesn't listen to what I need. Not to mention she's not very personable. I don't really like her and I was thinking of switching anyways, it's just hard to find one who accepts my insurance. Karen said she had heard some good things about this other place and she's pretty sure they accept my insurance, so I'm going to try to get in there so I don't have to see Dr. K anymore.
Here's where the "decision" aspect comes in. Karen strongly recommends that when come off the Effexor, that I go to an inpatient facility. She the withdrawal symptoms are really bad, and the things I already experience, she wants me to be able to be in a safe, controlled, monitored environment, without the possibility of external distractions causing problems. I get it, and it's probably the best thing to do, but she said I would probably be in there for a week. Just the thought of going kind of terrifies me, but for a whole week? 1. That's a week of hours at work that I can't really lose. Though I'm feeling better about my budget and where I am financially, I still can't really afford to lose a week of pay. 2. Just the thought of it feels kind of isolating. I mean, I know there's people there and all this other stuff, but I wouldn't get to see or talk to a majority of my friends. Sure, most places have limited visiting hours, but the likelihood that those hours would be convenient (or that the location would be convenient) is very very slim. Yes, these are "superficial" things that I shouldn't really be concerned about when it comes to do what is best for my mental health, but they're still there. And truthfully, they're more like "excuses" to cover the fact that it kind of scares me. I'm waiting to hear back from this new office and hopefully get to see a new psychiatrist soon. Maybe she'll have some ideas of taking me off of the Effexor that don't involve going to a facility for a week.
Anyways, things are still really rough. I've been physically exhausted from having to fight everything mentally. I just have this general feeling of not wanting to be alive. I feel drained. I feel alone. I'm hurting. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I'm discouraged. All the things that I keep saying over and over and every time they come out of my mouth, it feels like they have less and less meaning; both to me, and the people who are hearing/reading them. I don't really know how to describe what I'm feeling right now. Like a deflated balloon several days after a party that's losing air and just falling to the ground.
Saturday, January 14, 2017
Crisis
How do I describe how I've been feeling lately? I feel like I've been in some intense, deep, dark "funk", so to speak. I'm not sure what else to call it. Compared to just the recent depression (meaning just the kind of overall affect it has on me after considering all the progress I've made in therapy), and compared to the other bouts/episodes of depression that when I sink lower than that general affect, this is much much worse. But at the same time, I have felt this awful before, so it's not worse than something I've felt in the past. Does any of this make sense?
It's been this way for a little over a week now. It seemed to start Thursday or so last week. As far as I can tell, nothing externally has triggered it. Most of the time, all I can think about it how much I want to hurt myself or end my life. I've been trying not to shut down, and I've still been trying to be around people and reach out to people, but you know...life happens. People are busy. I understand; this is why there is more than one person in my "support network". But that's not all that's happening. In addition to people being busy, I'm struggling to reach out in the first place, and even when I do, I tend to make light of what I'm feeling because I'm kind of afraid to let people know the truly dark things that have been going through my mind recently. So what happens then is that I feel alone. Like a gut wrenching, heart breaking feeling of being alone, and it kind of makes everything I'm feeling even worse.
Then therapy was canceled this week because roads were icy Wednesday morning and my therapist couldn't make it over the mountain. What a sucky week for that to happen.
I'm also back on overnights once a week, which is frustrating. It's not the managers' fault, they tried to get me off Night Audit, but one of the auditors quit. So last Friday was the first one I was scheduled off, and she quit on Saturday. UGH. I'm not mad AT my managers, but it's hard not to feel angry and frustrated about it.
These self-harm and suicidal parts have been so active, so loud, so relentless. They're beating and wearing me down. I don't have much energy. I'm hurting. I'm in pain. I'm so angry and discouraged and I feel completely hopeless. I recently got over a sinus infection, and as I was getting better (before this "funk" started), I stocked up on cold and sinus medicine cause I often get sick when I don't have a lot of extra cash to get medicine. I had a bunch of coupons so I stocked up on cough, cold, and sinus medicines and such. Now I'm seeing that probably wasn't the smartest idea. I should probably be smart/safe about it and have someone hold on to it. But, at the same time, it kind of makes me feel better to know it's nearby.
Every single fiber of my being is fighting against me. Everything in my head is screaming at me to give up. Convincing me that nobody would notice, or care, if I weren't here. Convincing me that people would be so much better off without having the burden of my presence in their life. And for the past week, it's all I've been able to think about. I'm angry, frustrated, discouraged and I feel like there's no other way out of all of this. It feels unbearable. I don't have any energy to keep "holding on", trying to stay alive completely drains everything I have. I haven't been able to do a whole lot lately, and even when I do, I only have enough energy to go through the motions. I'm desperate for relief and there doesn't seem to be any other way to get it.
It's been this way for a little over a week now. It seemed to start Thursday or so last week. As far as I can tell, nothing externally has triggered it. Most of the time, all I can think about it how much I want to hurt myself or end my life. I've been trying not to shut down, and I've still been trying to be around people and reach out to people, but you know...life happens. People are busy. I understand; this is why there is more than one person in my "support network". But that's not all that's happening. In addition to people being busy, I'm struggling to reach out in the first place, and even when I do, I tend to make light of what I'm feeling because I'm kind of afraid to let people know the truly dark things that have been going through my mind recently. So what happens then is that I feel alone. Like a gut wrenching, heart breaking feeling of being alone, and it kind of makes everything I'm feeling even worse.
Then therapy was canceled this week because roads were icy Wednesday morning and my therapist couldn't make it over the mountain. What a sucky week for that to happen.
I'm also back on overnights once a week, which is frustrating. It's not the managers' fault, they tried to get me off Night Audit, but one of the auditors quit. So last Friday was the first one I was scheduled off, and she quit on Saturday. UGH. I'm not mad AT my managers, but it's hard not to feel angry and frustrated about it.
These self-harm and suicidal parts have been so active, so loud, so relentless. They're beating and wearing me down. I don't have much energy. I'm hurting. I'm in pain. I'm so angry and discouraged and I feel completely hopeless. I recently got over a sinus infection, and as I was getting better (before this "funk" started), I stocked up on cold and sinus medicine cause I often get sick when I don't have a lot of extra cash to get medicine. I had a bunch of coupons so I stocked up on cough, cold, and sinus medicines and such. Now I'm seeing that probably wasn't the smartest idea. I should probably be smart/safe about it and have someone hold on to it. But, at the same time, it kind of makes me feel better to know it's nearby.
Every single fiber of my being is fighting against me. Everything in my head is screaming at me to give up. Convincing me that nobody would notice, or care, if I weren't here. Convincing me that people would be so much better off without having the burden of my presence in their life. And for the past week, it's all I've been able to think about. I'm angry, frustrated, discouraged and I feel like there's no other way out of all of this. It feels unbearable. I don't have any energy to keep "holding on", trying to stay alive completely drains everything I have. I haven't been able to do a whole lot lately, and even when I do, I only have enough energy to go through the motions. I'm desperate for relief and there doesn't seem to be any other way to get it.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
1 year and lots of anger
I have been feeling so frustrated and angry lately, not to mention discouraged.
I'm angry that I've been working so freakin hard to overcome so much but that depression/dark part is still so strong, so present, so heavy and so disruptive. I have made so much progress in therapy over the past year. There is so much that is different, but yet this darkness is still there. We've established in therapy that this is the depression itself and at this point, there isn't really anything that my "parts therapy" is going to help, so now it's up to medicine. But that's been pretty frustrating too, I'm not real pleased with my new psychiatrist. So a little background information, I've tried a number of anti-depressants with no real long-term results. About half of those were when I was a teenager, which I make sure I mention to new doctors because I know anti-depressants can have a different effect on teenagers and young adults, than it does when you're a little older. So when I started with her, I was on a medicine called Effexor. Dr. K talked about how hard it is to come off of that medicine because of the withdrawals and that she wanted to avoid doing that. She saw my history and noted a have had a binge eating disorder and she immediately prescribed "Vyvanse." She said it was supposed to help the binge eating, even though I was very specific and clarified that the binge eating wasn't really an issue anymore. It still happens occasionally, but not enough to be classified as a B.E.D. right now. But she said it was a stimulant and it would help with my depression too. I was able to get a free one month supply, but my insurance wouldn't pay for it, so I was only on it for a month. My last appointment earlier this week, she decided before she tried adding another medicine again, she was just going to up the dosage of my current medicine. So now I'm at the highest dosage of a medicine that is apparently really hard to come off of. I'm not thrilled at the moment. Honestly, if I had realized how hard it would be to come off when my regular doctor first prescribed it, I might have said no. My therapist has actually mentioned that she probably wouldn't want me coming off of it unless I was in the hospital or something where I can be in a safe, monitored environment, especially with how much I've been struggling with my self-harm and suicidal parts.
Speaking of self-harm, Tuesday marked 1 year since I last hurt myself. I know this is supposed to be an accomplishment, but it hasn't really felt like it. It's still a daily struggle to fight against that part, and it still feels like any day that 1 year mark could go away. It hasn't gotten any easier and it's just so discouraging. I'm not sure how I feel about it all. My therapist said I should celebrate, but I don't really feel like it.
A few posts ago, I mentioned something about starting some neurofeedback. It's officially going to be starting in the next week or two. It's not something insurance pays for, and it can be expensive, but Karen (therapist) said that for someone like me who has been really committed to treatment and recovery, they're going to do it free of cost. I'll actually be one of the first one's at that office to do it. It's supposed to help re-wire my brain and shift it's responses and stuff. I'll wear sensors on my head and I'll probably be going twice a week. I really hope it does something. I'm desperate for some relief.
Lastly, on just a random note; I've started writing some poems recently. I tried writing poems when I was in high school, but I always felt like they weren't that great. But recently, a friend got me interested in giving it a try again. It's also a way to try to express myself in a different way, because lately I've been feeling really like everything I say has become repetitive and meaningless. I've posted a couple of the poems on Facebook, all but one, but I don't know if I'll end up posting them all on facebook or not.
I'm angry that I've been working so freakin hard to overcome so much but that depression/dark part is still so strong, so present, so heavy and so disruptive. I have made so much progress in therapy over the past year. There is so much that is different, but yet this darkness is still there. We've established in therapy that this is the depression itself and at this point, there isn't really anything that my "parts therapy" is going to help, so now it's up to medicine. But that's been pretty frustrating too, I'm not real pleased with my new psychiatrist. So a little background information, I've tried a number of anti-depressants with no real long-term results. About half of those were when I was a teenager, which I make sure I mention to new doctors because I know anti-depressants can have a different effect on teenagers and young adults, than it does when you're a little older. So when I started with her, I was on a medicine called Effexor. Dr. K talked about how hard it is to come off of that medicine because of the withdrawals and that she wanted to avoid doing that. She saw my history and noted a have had a binge eating disorder and she immediately prescribed "Vyvanse." She said it was supposed to help the binge eating, even though I was very specific and clarified that the binge eating wasn't really an issue anymore. It still happens occasionally, but not enough to be classified as a B.E.D. right now. But she said it was a stimulant and it would help with my depression too. I was able to get a free one month supply, but my insurance wouldn't pay for it, so I was only on it for a month. My last appointment earlier this week, she decided before she tried adding another medicine again, she was just going to up the dosage of my current medicine. So now I'm at the highest dosage of a medicine that is apparently really hard to come off of. I'm not thrilled at the moment. Honestly, if I had realized how hard it would be to come off when my regular doctor first prescribed it, I might have said no. My therapist has actually mentioned that she probably wouldn't want me coming off of it unless I was in the hospital or something where I can be in a safe, monitored environment, especially with how much I've been struggling with my self-harm and suicidal parts.
Speaking of self-harm, Tuesday marked 1 year since I last hurt myself. I know this is supposed to be an accomplishment, but it hasn't really felt like it. It's still a daily struggle to fight against that part, and it still feels like any day that 1 year mark could go away. It hasn't gotten any easier and it's just so discouraging. I'm not sure how I feel about it all. My therapist said I should celebrate, but I don't really feel like it.
A few posts ago, I mentioned something about starting some neurofeedback. It's officially going to be starting in the next week or two. It's not something insurance pays for, and it can be expensive, but Karen (therapist) said that for someone like me who has been really committed to treatment and recovery, they're going to do it free of cost. I'll actually be one of the first one's at that office to do it. It's supposed to help re-wire my brain and shift it's responses and stuff. I'll wear sensors on my head and I'll probably be going twice a week. I really hope it does something. I'm desperate for some relief.
Lastly, on just a random note; I've started writing some poems recently. I tried writing poems when I was in high school, but I always felt like they weren't that great. But recently, a friend got me interested in giving it a try again. It's also a way to try to express myself in a different way, because lately I've been feeling really like everything I say has become repetitive and meaningless. I've posted a couple of the poems on Facebook, all but one, but I don't know if I'll end up posting them all on facebook or not.
Thursday, November 10, 2016
How are you?
I've been wanting to write a blog post for a week or two now. But what to say? I feel like lately, everything I say is repetitive, and meaningless. There was an article recently talking about the struggle of lying/telling the truth when someone asks you how you are?
This is almost exactly how I've been feeling lately. When someone asks me how I am, how do I answer? Is it a brief, passing, polite "how are you"? In which case, I definitely don't tell the truth. Are they being sincere, but is it someone I'm comfortable with? What if it's someone I've already opened to a lot, someone I reach out to a lot? Do they really want to hear it again? Am I burden? If I tell them the truth, which is the same response it's been for months, will they even believe me anymore? Or have my words become completely and ridiculously repetitive and meaningless.
Then move on to the next part I quoted. There used to be a time where I worked really hard to try to hide everything going on. I didn't trust people, I didn't open up. Maybe I wasn't perfect at hiding it all, but it was something. But now? Now I actively try to be vocal about it and try to be an "advocate" (so to speak) against the stigma of mental health. But it really is like opening a Pandora's box. Sometimes I wish I could back to hiding.
There have been a lot of things I've been feeling recently. I still have to continually deal with these suicidal and self-harm parts. Every fiber of my being is telling me to give in to them. It would be easier. I'd feel relief. I'd feel in control.
I'm tired. I'm tired of having to fight again those parts. I'm tired of dealing with the depression, anxiety, and OCD. It beats me down and it wears on me. I'm just freakin tired. I'm angry. I'm discouraged. I work so hard and I do my best to try to manage, fight, and beat this crap. I'm doing all this stuff and it's like it's not even doing anything! Still have difficulties with my medication and that causes it's own set of problems.
I just can't do it anymore. I don't have the strength, I don't have the energy, I don't have the motivation.
"When someone, who I care about and who cares about me, asks how I am doing, it is even more complicated. What runs through my mind is: Right now, do they really want the truth? Do they have the time or the energy for it? Do I? Can they handle the truth? Do they think at this point I am being dramatic with them because they see me interacting with other people as if I don’t have a care in the world? Am I becoming (or have I been) a burden with my prolonged need for support to this person?I’m so tired of hearing myself talk about the crap going on in my head. I bet they are too.
. . .
"This lie makes me much more pleasant to be around. Conversation doesn’t need to focus on my issues. I am the only one overtly affected by my depression. It just seems simpler. Not so healthy, but definitely easier on everyone except me.
There are many times I wish I could go back to my old standard response. Yet, alas, I have opened Pandora’s box. Being authentic after years of creating a multi-layered mask is like navigating my way through treacherous waters in a row boat. I am constantly being tossed around in the waves, and I feel like I am going to be thrown out at any second."
This is almost exactly how I've been feeling lately. When someone asks me how I am, how do I answer? Is it a brief, passing, polite "how are you"? In which case, I definitely don't tell the truth. Are they being sincere, but is it someone I'm comfortable with? What if it's someone I've already opened to a lot, someone I reach out to a lot? Do they really want to hear it again? Am I burden? If I tell them the truth, which is the same response it's been for months, will they even believe me anymore? Or have my words become completely and ridiculously repetitive and meaningless.
Then move on to the next part I quoted. There used to be a time where I worked really hard to try to hide everything going on. I didn't trust people, I didn't open up. Maybe I wasn't perfect at hiding it all, but it was something. But now? Now I actively try to be vocal about it and try to be an "advocate" (so to speak) against the stigma of mental health. But it really is like opening a Pandora's box. Sometimes I wish I could back to hiding.
There have been a lot of things I've been feeling recently. I still have to continually deal with these suicidal and self-harm parts. Every fiber of my being is telling me to give in to them. It would be easier. I'd feel relief. I'd feel in control.
I'm tired. I'm tired of having to fight again those parts. I'm tired of dealing with the depression, anxiety, and OCD. It beats me down and it wears on me. I'm just freakin tired. I'm angry. I'm discouraged. I work so hard and I do my best to try to manage, fight, and beat this crap. I'm doing all this stuff and it's like it's not even doing anything! Still have difficulties with my medication and that causes it's own set of problems.
I just can't do it anymore. I don't have the strength, I don't have the energy, I don't have the motivation.
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