meds, moods and life

So my meds are working, so it seems. I’ve gone a little over two months without a depressive episode. I have to wait a few more months to make sure they are really working, but for right now, they are. I have yet to pass the 6 month mark on changing my meds, then I know they REALLY are working. I do feel the difference. I’ve mentioned it several times before.

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With my meds working and me getting better, I notice something else… my mind isn’t as active, there are no thoughts that are constantly running through my mind, my imagination isn’t running a muck and my creativity is just dead. I find it harder to write, to put thoughts into words and I get writer’s block all the time! It seems like when I’m down in the dumps, everything just comes pouring out of me and there is no way to stop it and when I’m better, not even a drop of imagination comes out. I’m not saying that I want to be down in the dumps so I could write and do other stuff, it’s just an observation that I’ve noticed with all of this stuff going on with me. At the same time, I wait for life events to happen to spark any emotion out of me. I guess it has to do with the meds leveling out my moods. Not that I blame them, they are helping me handle my depression and other stuff. Maybe the real me is finally coming out after all these years, buried under this facade that I’ve created to hide from the world or maybe it really is the meds. I know that without the meds, I am this quirky, clumsy, somewhat nerdy, adventurous, sometimes careless girl that skips around life making it as simple as possible but attempting to make it fun at the same time. And right now I’m just on an even playing field with no mountains to climb or planes to jump out of and nothing to write about, really.

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But that is the challenge, right? To pull something out of nothing. To be creative without your fuel source to bring things to light. That’s when real creativity comes in. When you are your true self and you can create something wonderful. I would like to be able to write and be creative without being down in the dumps or some sort of life event happening. I don’t want to rely on my emotions to get my gears working. Is it the same thing as finding inspiration in anything that comes your way? Whatever it is, I want to be able to keep going no matter what mood I’m in. At the same time, I have to find that me again. The one that likes to go out on adventures and explore life to its full extent and not let anything stop me, including my meds. First it was a battle with my emotions and getting a handle on them, now it’s a battle with what moods my meds get me into. Will I ever be happy? (Rhetorical question).

Hawaii is a less than a week away and I am excited! I’ll probly have lots to write about considering all the adventures we’re going to have from riding ATV’s, zip lining, snorkeling and jumping off a 40′ cliff into the ocean. But then what happens after that? Life goes back to normal. Back to the same daily routine day after day until the next adventure I guess? That’s the thing, how can we make everyday life more interesting? I know there are so many things that I could do but, and I’m not making this an excuse but she is one of my priorities, I gotta take Mochi to the park everyday and let her mingle with her doggie friends. I want to do that for her. So with that being said, that makes my schedule a little more difficult to navigate. I can’t do anything til after 7pm. I’m not trying to put a downer on life, like everyone else, I just have to find a healthy balance. I’m sure there are plenty of things that I could do after 7pm, I just have to find them.

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Well I’m off to Hawaii on Friday… maybe I’ll write while I’m there, maybe I won’t. So if anything, I’ll write when I get back. Aloha!

 

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Am I okay with God now?

So I’ve been angry with God for some time now and yes I will say that yea, I did turn my back on him. I lost my faith in God. I lost all trust in God. I stopped looking to God for answers to any of my problems when he was the source of all my answers before. I was angry at God for giving me this thing that turned my whole world upside down. That I feel like I can’t handle it. I still feel like I’m too weak to face this thing alone. I always thought, I think about killing myself day in and day out, where is God in that? Every waking moment, that was all I thought about, but God was nowhere to be found. I prayed. I prayed hard and long until I couldn’t pray anymore for God to take it back. Take it all back, I can’t do this. And yet, no answer. I did the only thing I thought there was left to do, and so I turned my back on God.

It’s been a year and a half and I still have this thing, it hasn’t gone away. God hasn’t taken it back. I think I’m getting better. Less and less depressive episodes. Thoughts of suicide are still there, but they are just there. I know this all sounds too familiar because I had a similar post not too long ago, but there is more to it than that. This time is a bit different.

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Lately, God has been popping up in my mind. I feel guilty every time my friend mentions that he is going to church, like something is tugging at me, at my heart. I haven’t gone to church in about a year and a half. For some people, that really isn’t a long time, but for someone who used to love to go to church and devoted all of their time to church, that is a lifetime. I’m not saying I’m going back to church just yet, I’m just saying that there is something tugging at my heart. Besides, I really think that your relationship with God is in your heart, you don’t need a church to tell you to talk to him.

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One of my older posts I said that God was just waiting for me to come back to him. Well, I think, this is where it starts. I read back some of my old journals and all I talk about is how much God was in my life. I turned to God for every little thing, every little problem, every thought good or bad and he would always have an answer. I strayed away a little, but everyone does at some point, we just have to find our way back. Even before, there were several times where I lost my way but eventually came back. I’m still angry with God. We’re allowed to be angry right? Why not? We’re allowed to question him too, right? Even though I still have this thing, maybe I can reason with him? Maybe I’ll learn to accept what he has given me. Maybe I’ll learn to live with it and get around it. Maybe he is helping me and I’m just too caught up in this thing to even realize it. And maybe, just maybe, this is the beginning of the continuation of the relationship that I once had with God. Maybe even better?

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asking for help

I’m in my in between world again. Not up or down. Just somewhere in between where I really don’t feel anything. My natural high has dissipated like a balloon deflating back to just a piece of latex. I feel like a dead weight. Maybe it’s time to go back to therapy. I stopped going to therapy back in January because things seemed to be going really well but a lot has happened since then that I never really talked about so everything got bottled up and now I feel like I’m going to explode. Maybe this is why I’ve been getting a whole lot of chest pains. 4 months of a roller coaster of a life being stuffed in a tiny itty bitty space just waiting to come spewing out like a volcano. Wait, I haven’t gone to therapy yet. Hold your breath. Screw the cap back on. I have to get an appointment first. But for right now, I just feel drained. I feel like the life got sucked out of me. I’ve been holding my breath for 4 months and I need to let it out. Why did I ever think that everything would be okay after I stopped going to therapy? Of course bad things would happen. I don’t live in a perfect world, who does? I feel like I can’t get a grip on anything. Everything is falling through the cracks. You throw something against the wall and it shatters to a million pieces as it scatters all over the floor and you don’t know what to do with it. I can give you many more analogies but it’s all going to end up the same. I’m just sitting on the floor and the world is spinning around me with no means to an end. Can I hit the pause button please and rewind a little then tread lightly over the course of 4 months? Of course not. Only if I could go back in time.

Life isn’t easy. Anyone can say that. We all have our problems and we all deal with them differently. Sometimes we just have to know when to ask for help. For a long time, I refused it. I said, I can take on anything. Give me what you’ve got. And I gotta tell ya, it knocked me on my ass pretty damn hard, and that’s saying it lightly. Fortunately, I learned to give up my pride and now I know when to ask for help. And you know what? It is definitely okay to ask for help! It is okay to not be okay! No one is perfect. No life is perfect. We all need our shoulder to cry on.

my saving grace

I took the day off today… for two reasons. One, I didn’t feel like going to work and two, I was feeling depressed. I definitely needed it. Work is not crazy but it’s not busy either. I slept in til 11am and then went to lunch with my cousin. Went home and took Mochi to the park.

It seems my depression has been getting worse. This is the 3rd time that I’ve gone home or stayed home from work because of it. It seems like I have depressive episodes every week. My doctor changed my medication again but this time they have to increase the dosage slowly and the effects will happen in the span of a couple of months. That scares me! If my depression is already getting bad, I don’t want it to get any worse waiting, months for the right dosage, for the medication to work. I wish I could say that I was getting better, that the medicine is working and I’m on the road to recovery. Well kinda but not really. I’m afraid of what’s to come in the next month or two. I’m afraid of how bad it might get. I still wish that all of this never happened. I get tired of going through the same thing month after month. Taking medicine day after day waiting for something to work. I hate being asked if I have suicidal thoughts, if I have a plan, and what am I going to do? Knowing full well that there is a definite answer to that scares the SHIT out of me! I know what I am capable of. But, in the back of my mind, I really really really don’t want to die! Even though sometimes I do. Maybe that will be my saving grace. That thought alone will keep me from pulling it off. That thought alone will fight my other half to stay alive. Maybe if I’m fighting for someone else and not just me, that will stop me. Maybe that support that I get from someone is enough to pull me out and get me through this mess. That too will be my saving grace. That has to be enough. There is still that glimmer of hope that I will get through all of this even though half the time I’m skeptical about it. C’est la vie.

the scary stuff

It’s been a long and crazy rough road getting to where I am now. I’m not out of the woods yet but the light is starting to shine through.

In the beginning it started with severe depression. I would be with family and around good vibes and still feel like I wasn’t even there. I hear people talking in the background but it’s just an echo. I’m there but I’m not. No one is home. I’ve floated away to nowhere land and not looking to come back anytime soon.

Seeing things has been there since I was a kid. This is just what has happened recently. Ghosts would be walking around my apartment. There were 5 of them at one point. There was a little girl hunched over on the floor by the piano looking at me during my piano lessons. She wouldn’t move, she would just look at me. There was a tall white naked man with lacerations all over his body always walking across the hallway pacing back and forth. I can’t remember the other three. They wouldn’t talk to me. They would just be there. On the drive home I would have a ghost or two riding in the back seat. There was always someone following me, but would never reveal himself.  I didn’t like to look in the mirror because there would be someone else looking back at me but it wasn’t me.

Then came the demons. The ghosts would disappear when the demons came. There were a lot of them. They would bounce off the walls hanging around everywhere in my apartment. At first they would just stay in the living room. At night I would go to sleep and I could only see them at the door. Night after night they would get closer. In the room. Next, the bedroom light fixture, and then right behind me and whisper in bad things in my ear. I was too scared to remember what they said because I jumped out of bed and ran to the couch and called a friend. I was afraid to be in my own apartment. I sleep with the lights on because if I turn them off, she will be there to take me. She is waiting at the foot of my bed just at the right time, to take me.

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My Pastor and some Elders at the church came for a couple weeks to do prayer sessions at my apartment and it did help a little.

I still sleep with the lights on.

Then came the voices. There were three of them. The nice one who didn’t like to argue. The mean one who dictated over everything, and the middle one who tried to keep the peace. Eventually the mean one took over and she started plotting. This is when the suicidal thoughts and attempts started. She would tell me what to do all day long. Write a letter to this person. Say goodbye to that person. Give all your account information to that person. I actually gave all my account information to my best friend just in case anything ever did happen, he could give it to my family. I had dreams that I was dead. I knew there were times that I was sure I wouldn’t make it to my next birthday. I knew that I wasn’t going to last very long. I had no desire to live anymore. I was numb to everything. The mean voice really didn’t have to say much for me to attempt anything at my own life. There was one night, all I had to do was go into my art box and find my xacto knife and just end it right then and there. I guess it wasn’t my time yet because some part of me kept me from pulling it off. Another incident was when I got home and all I wanted to do was swallow as much pills as I could and sleep and not wake up. I ended up calling a friend before any of it happened. As much as I wanted to die right then and there, at the same time, I didn’t. I don’t want to die. I think that is what is keeping me alive.

None of that happens now. I still have depressive episodes and sometimes suicidal thoughts but not as severe as it has been in the past. Things are getting better and all I can do is move forward.

this is me

I guess when I started this blog site, I didn’t know how personal I would get. In the beginning, I wanted it to be light hearted and funny, or quirky even. I realize that some of my posts have really gotten deep into what makes me who I am today. I have a journal that I write in almost on a daily basis, but lately I find that I’m writing in here more than the journal. I guess I’m learning to open up? I thought it would be scary at first, to let the world know the real me, that side of me that I’ve been hiding from, hiding from the world all these years. I’m afraid of letting the world know who I really am. I feel like I wouldn’t be accepted given my past experiences with people.

So this is me. I normally don’t open up my feeling or my true self to just anyone. It takes me a while before I begin to trust someone because I’ve been burned many times before.

What do I really want to say? I want to stop hiding behind the shadows! I want to stop being the submissive, passive, even door mat that I used to be! I want to let the world know who I am and this is what I’ve been through to get here! It was never the easy road for me. Every time I thought, “this is it, I’m done, I can’t take it anymore!” I somehow found a way to get through it, don’t know how exactly, but I do. Then a year and a half ago, I get this thing called Schizoaffective Disorder and I plummet down to the depths of nowhere land and have to climb my way back up what seems to be a never ending roller coaster of symptoms and emotions and have to start all over again. But God won’t give me anything I can’t handle right? Sometimes I feel like that’s not true. Like this battle is winning over me. I’ve really questioned my faith going through this and it has scared me to my core! I used to be like God can get me through anything. God will prevail. God you are my rock. God this. God that. Then it became why God? Why me? I can’t do this! This thing you gave me is too hard to handle and I’m not the person to do it. When there are times when all you think of is taking your own life day after day among many other symptoms and just waiting and hoping for the medicine to kick in. I began to think, where is God in that? No matter how many times or how hard I prayed that this wasn’t real, that I didn’t have this thing, it wouldn’t go away. I stopped relying on God. I lost my faith in God. I lost all trust in God. I relied only on medicine to hopefully get better and even then I was skeptical. The medicine is working now, a few changes here and there. I don’t think about suicide as much. I still have depressive episodes here and there. I try to talk to God but it gets cut short. I’m still angry with him. Hopefully someday that will change. I read back in some of my old journals and all I talk about is God being in my life and how much I looked to him for all the support I needed; I kinda want that back. But, I know that has to come from me, and God is waiting.

 

anger issues

So along with my depression, I have developed a bit of anger issues. I’m not an angry person, never have been. I was always the shy, quiet, hide behind the shadows type of person. I’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it because no one really notices it but me. Even when I did get mad, I would give the silent treatment. Lately it’s been quite the opposite.

I get that we all have those annoying coworkers who don’t know what they are doing and get on your nerves, but usually you can move past it right? You’re used to it, it’s expected, it’s not going to change. Yet I find myself becoming consumed with anger and frustration over the smallest things that I know they are going to do. So is it that they just got on my last nerve or am I really blowing things out of proportion? For instance, my fellow coworker gives me an incomplete property setup (which she has always done in the past) and I’m here slamming things on my desk, throwing pens or whatever, jamming my pen into a pad of post-it notes and trying to control myself from going over to her desk and yelling at her for the missing information. I mean COME ON! How long have you worked here and you can’t seem to give me complete information?!? Okay, calm down. I knew she was going to do that. I always had to do the second half of her job for her anyway. That was only one instance.

At home, it’s sad, my dog Mochi gets yelled at for no reason. I all of a sudden get in one of my moods and because she isn’t walking as fast or the way I want her to walk and she’s just being a dog and sniffing everything in her path. I start yelling at her and tugging at her leash to make her catch up to me. She’s just being a dog, going for a walk. That’s it. She didn’t do anything wrong and she’s getting reprimanded.

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I can’t control it. I just get into these angry fits and lash out at the first thing that gets in my way. I’m on mood stabilizers but I don’t think it’s doing what it’s supposed to otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this. It doesn’t seem like much but I know myself and this is not me. I’m not an angry person. It used to take a lot to make me angry, now it’s almost as if anything will make me angry. People don’t notice it either because I’m almost always alone when it happens with the exception of work. But I feel it, there is a change in me and I don’t like it. It’s not something I want to get used to either. I don’t want to be known as an angry person.