Dear Suicidal Thoughts...

Trigger Warning.
Talk of suicide and swearing.

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Dear Suicidal Thoughts...

I hate you. I hate everything you have taken from me. I really fucking hate you.

I hate how I have to spend so much time and energy keeping my guard up and making sure that I don't fall to your fucking grips again and again.

I hate how draining that it is.

I hate what you've taken from my family.

I hate that you make me believe these bad things will be better for my family in the end.

I fucking hate you.

I hate how evil you are.  You are an evil fucking bitch.

I hate how you scare me.

I hate that I'm always waiting for the next shoe to drop and you will creep back into my life.

I hate how you are always lingering around teasing me.

I hate how, even when I know I'm not OK, I feel guilty because I feel like I should be just fine. 

Dear Suicidal Thoughts...


I will continue to keep trying.... not to let you back into my life the way you have been in the past.

I may not be successful today, or last week, or last month.  But one day I will.

If, despite all that I am doing, you manage to come back, I will not let you take over my life as you have in the past.  I will kick you in the fucking balls as I am trying to today.  You might be winning today. But be reminded, you will not fucking win. You will not!

I will continue to try and keep myself safe and protect my body, mind and spirit from you.
You will never beat me.  Never.  I promise you one thing.  You will NEVER fucking win.


Dear Suicidal Thoughts...

You will NEVER kill me.  No matter how hard you try.  I still wish you would go to hell and leave me the hell alone.  

TMS Update ~ Mental Illness Sucks

I've ended TMS Therapy.  I finished 2 weeks ago with 61 treatments.  Not the suggested and usual 25-35 treatments.

61 Treatments. (update: the report I received today said 48 treatments.  I'm pretty sure it was 61.  I counted 61 day on my calendar.  And that was what the therapist said on the last day.)

I lost track on how many of those treatments were dual for anxiety and depression.  AKA: Both sides.

Nearly 11 weeks of going every single day.  There were a few weeks of 4 days.  And when tapering began it was over the course of 3-4 weeks.  

I wish I could sit here and write how much better life is.  How much better controlled depression, anxiety, and mental illness is in my life.  Reality is...I can't.  That hurts my heart more than you can even begin to imagine.  I gave it my all.  Every single day.  I didn't cancel or miss appointments.  

If I'm anything, I am brutally honest.  And this blog has never been anything but that.  I've pretty much told those who don't like that where the door is.  You won't find rainbows and unicorns shooting out my ass.  

That being said....TMS isn't all it is talked into being.  It isn't this one day you wake up and "oh my freaking word the cloud was gone..."  No it wasn't like that.  It hasn't been like that.  Yet, every testimonial I've read has pretty much been JUST THAT.  Because those people...the ones who are so much better after 3-4 weeks of treatment...those people...they shoot rainbows out their ass.  They eat unicorn poop cookies for lunch.  And while I'm extremely happy for them.  I want to trip them.  I really do.  Because they gave me false hope.  Almost every single day I sat down in that chair I had high hopes.  Really high hopes.  

Slow and steady wins the race.  I know that.  I also know that I've hit a block.  A really big block.  It isn't going anywhere anytime soon.  Despite my attempts to barge over it, under it, through it, or around it.  It's there.  The elephant in the room.  

The hope has slowly faded over the last 2 weeks.  The reality that this...this life that I'm living...although a smidge better than it was....it is still pretty damn horrible.  There is no amount positive thinking, reiki, tapping, prayer, faith, you name it....none that will change that. 

Mental illness sucks. 

Trauma sucks.

And I'm tired of fighting it.  Fighting the thought that 'it will get better'.
Tired of buying into the thought that 'it will get better'.

I'm not very positive today.  You could probably say I"m never positive.  And honestly, I don't care.  I got out of bed yesterday to go to a massage.  And came back home.  Went back to bed.  I'm writing this from my bed. I'm not working right now.  Which it gives for more reason to not get up.

In the last 24 hours depression has hit hard.  Honestly, it has been long standing.  Yet, the last 24-48 hours has hit hard.  

I hope my next post can be a bit brighter.  Until then...this is what I've got.

Hope on the Horizon - TMS - Week 5

I've not updated the last few weeks on how things have been going with TMS because I've not had in me.  Quite honestly, there have been some really tough moments.  Really tough days.

There have been days where I wonder if it is worth it.  I keep telling myself it will be worth it at the end of the day.  IS THERE REALLY any HOPE on the HORIZON????  Many nights it doesn't seem like it.

On Thursday, I met with the psychiatrist and she did the MT for the rTMS - which is on the right side of the brain and will treat for anxiety.  The Beck Depression and Anxiety questionnaires have shown off the charts anxiety and depression.  The Beck Depression is gradually getting better.  Still in the 'severe' range.  However, not off the charts type of range.  Yesterday was the first day for me to receive the rTMS.  It was triggering.  It was downright horrible. I tolerated it because...I feel I need to.  Because I want to find the hope on the horizon!! And so regardless of how horrible I might have felt it was.  Regardless, of if it seemed like Chinese water torture.

The MT on both sides is pretty high.  The computer/coils/machine gets hot.  My head gets hot.  My brain gets hot.  Sitting in the chair for nearly 1.5-2 hours gets uncomfortable.  It is what it is. And I will push through it till the end.  I do believe the end is in sight. I hope so anyway.

 I've had VERY few people in my day-to-day life tell me they have noticed any sort of difference. When  asked my husband will tell you no.  Early last week Jodi (therapist) mentioned she could tell a difference.  We discussed her observations.  I don't have to believe her. But I can keep the things she has said to me in the back of my head to reflect on.  And days like today...maybe I believe her a little bit.

I've had a couple friends that live distantly tell me they can/have seen a difference in photos that I've posted of myself, they have noticed it in my voice while talking on the phone, and just in overall conversations.  

Earlier in the week a receptionist that I see at my chiropractor office several times a week told me "G*, you just don't sound like your chipper self.  Even in the roughest moments...you come in here with a smile and are always so pleasant.  The last few weeks you seem to be really struggling.  Are you okay?"  She is aware of TMS and had asked me if I noticed a difference or was feeling better.  I ALWAYS schedule appts w/my chiropractor AFTER my TMS appts bc of the toll it takes on my neck and lower back sitting in the chair.  She is seeing me after being triggered (TMS has been triggering trauma crap), after discussing this aspect with her she was able to see the connection and got it.

A few different times over the last 2 weeks I've caught myself thinking "hey..." and then am smacked with the learned behaviors, the belief that I can't get better, and overall mental illness crap.  And I fall back into the cycle of self destruct, self injury, and self sabotage behaviors.  

And then today happened.

And then today not only happened....but it REALLY was okay.

A few differences that I've noticed TODAY:

**2 nights in a row...I slept more than 3-4 hours.

**Last night I fell asleep HARD and when I say hard I mean HARD.  There is some not so positive aspects of that happening in relation to self harm/soothing stuff.  However, I wasn't rattled by it like it usually does.  Sure I was rattled. Sure the physical pain from biting yourself, leaving marks, and having your husband really have to intervene...suck.  It didn't cause a domino effect where I ended up swirling.  Self injury for me usually starts small and spirals to bigger and more out of control issues. That did not happen.  Instead, I dealt with the backlash.  

**Instead of coming home from a morning at the Farmer's Market and Chiropractor and going to bed "to take a nap...."  I ate lunch w/my family.  Did the dishes.  Swept all of the floors.  De-furminated our dog.  Planted a perennial flower that has been sitting in the pot for a week.  Prepared part of Sunday's dinner (Crockpot Lasagna).  Took the dogs for a walk. And did several other things.  I have not one time...laid down in bed to take a nap...OR...sat on the couch and checked out on my computer.  

**Actually, today is the first time I've turned my computer on in over a month and didn't sit down for more than 30 minutes and end up checking out for hours on end.  Instead I've limited my time to doing only productive things (for the most part).

*I've not sat waiting for the other shoe to drop.  You know when you notice the good...and then wonder when the bad will creep in.  That hasn't been my mindset.  Instead it has been the opposite.  As little bits of negative and darkness creep in...I've countered it back.  With a big F to the U to the C to the K to the Y to the O to the U...you are not stealing this day from me.

There has been only a few minor self harm/self sabatoge thoughts that have come/went.

There have been no suicidal ideation --- which hasn't happened in several weeks/months!

I believe I have 2 more weeks left.  Instead of 4-6 weeks of treatment we are looking at 7-8 weeks.  If I understand correctly it is because the MT is unable to be at the 120% bc it is so high.  I'm not 100% certain. 

Journey to TMS - Part 3

If you've not read the previous posts on Journey to TMS...please start with the links below.

Part 1 ~ Journey to Transcranial Magentic Stimulation
Part 2 ~ Jourey to TMS ~ An Answer to A Prayer

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I can't promise I will blog/journal the entire process.  However, in the first week or two I will try.  With weekly updates as time goes on.  There are not very many blogs that discuss TMS Treatment/Therapy.

The following was wrote the evening after my first appointment and the day or so after.

Week One....Day One....or so I thought.
5/6/13
Today was the beginning of treatment.
Or so I thought.  It was my hope anyway.  Instead, I sat for almost 2 hours in the TMS chair while the psychiatrist and assistant attempted to find the motor threshold.
No luck.
They were unable to find the spot they needed.
I will return at the end of the week and see a different doctor from the sister-clinic.

My anxiety was high before the appt. today.  It is much higher now. I came home and spent the next two hours puking.  And the last 2 hours I've spent trying to stay present, not give in to the negative self talk and swirling associated with it.

TAKE 2....Week One...Day One...Retake.
5/10/13
Today was the beginning of treatment...repeat.
Dr. W came from another clinic about 1.5-2 hours away.  The psychiatrist that will be overseeing my treatment is local and new(er) to TMS.
Dr. W set up some parameters at the beginning.  Talked to me a little bit about a few options that he/we would have have if he was unable to locate the spot that was needed. It took a great deal of self talk to get me to this appointment.  My toleraence level was markedly less today than when I was there on Monday. After what seemed like hours they found the particular spot they were looking for...or...so they thought and on my way to getting this crap done and over with for the day.

After finding the proper placement they needed to find the proper dose or whatever it is called.I believe it is called MT-Motor Threshold. I can't remember right off hand.

And then they started the first treatment.  I had watched several different videos on what to expect, what  it feels like, and all that other jazz.  When Dr. W described what I may/may not feel he didn't give a very accurate description.  He told me "depending on how well you tolerate it...we may need to tweek the angle a little bit...if it hurts in your eye, teeth, or left side of your face let me know..."

SOB....he was so incredible way off.  I truly had no idea how horrific it would be.  I don't blog this to scare anyone off.  I'm brutally honest.  I wish that I had somewhat of a clue what to expect.  That first set took me off guard. To say it was awful would be an understatement.

Treatments are generally 37-40 minutes long or some damn thing like that.  However, the target dose is higher and requires the system to take a longer break.  Which means treatments will take about an hour and half.

There was much unraveling today.  I received half of the treatment today because of the length of time it took to find the motor threshold.  By the time I was done we were done today.... I was DONE....and I really was MORE than DONE!

It was comforting to have the technician be as understanding as she was.  My gut tells me she will be good to work with on a daily basis. Trusting her will be another story.  The Dr. and Technician from the sister clinic were super nice and sweet.  However, my tolerance for men providers isn't always the best.

It took quite awhile for me to pull myself back together so I could go to work.  I worked the rest of the day.  Stuffed the emotions and feelings associated with this.  The moment I am in my car and alone - the tears turn into sobs.

I'm angry.  VERY angry.
I hate that I have to do this.
I hate that this is my life.
I hate everything about this.

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly...Meds SUCK

**DISCLAIMER:  This post is a representation of MY thoughts, opinions, and experiences.  DO NOT stop taking your medications just because...I or anyone else say they SUCK or anything else that I may/may not say about them in this post...There. I. Said. It.**

I've not really blogged much about the medication change that transpired little over a month ago.  I was hopeful on many levels.  At the end of the 2nd week, I was seeing some positive changes.  Still a tad reluctant of the positive effects...BUT very thankful there were some definite positives.  There were negatives in the realm of side effects.  That is something I'm very accustomed to at this point.  I've seen my current psychiatrist going on 13 years this next spring.  She knows me inside and out.  I've blogged before about our love/hate relationship.  I love her dearly.  I hate the effects medications have had on my body.  I've taken just about every.single.thing out there.  After my gastric bypass, my ability to tolerate medications became much less.  As in MUCH MUCH MUCH less.  And so the battle continues and as I've said over the last several years....got much worse.

THE GOOD:
Medications are prescribed by doctors to assist symptoms, to target abnormal medical findings, assist and prevent illnesses.  These symptoms range in anything from pain, insomnia, hallucinations, coughing, chest pain, cramping, and many more ailments.  The goal of medications is ultimately to relieve symptoms.  At the end of the day, the goal of medications is to get rid of ailments/symptoms and prevent something worse from happening.  In many cases the goal is both....prevent and get rid of.  At any rate, the goal is to normalize ones quality of life/living.

Medications work.  Sometimes.  In some people.  They have the ability to make bad things go away and allow people to live happier, healthier, and more productive lives.

THE BAD:
The bad thing with medications is they have side effects.  Take trazodone for an example.  It is used as antidepressant, but it makes people sleepy.  SO it is used in a sub-therapeutic (for depression) to help with insomnia.  This particular example can be a good side effect.  Most side effects, though, are bad.  They are uncomfortable the person.  They are often the reason patients stop taking their medications.  Side effects are usually uncomfortable.  Rarely are they fatal.  Usually they are reversible.  Most often these effects go away once the medication is stopped.

The interesting thing about side effects is that few of them happen to everyone that takes them.  Take the side effects of SSRI's for example, a ton of people will experience sexual side effects, not everyone will.  Tremors, sexual side effects, weight gain, and sleepiness are often common side effects of SSRI's and other medications used for psychiatric disorders.

I've struggled with nearly every single psychiatric medication that I've been prescribed since my gastric bypass in 2004.  As a patient who struggles with severe depression, a condition that is impeding my life, it is often worth taking the risk of any given side effect.  Usually, I find myself somewhat hopeful the effects may not happen.

THE UGLY:  (and it can be ugly)
Side effects are unpleasant, at best.  Many have rare and really ugly effects.  The rare and ugly effects are actually not side effects..they are considered ADVERSE REACTIONS.  They can be awful, fatal, and in rare cases irreversible.  Tardive Dyskinesia is an adverse reaction, one that takes time to develop.  One that was a listed as a VERY rare side effect of a medication I took about a year ago.  The usual response to the UGLY is to stop the medication ASAP.

Increased depression, self injury, suicidal ideation in my opinion falls under the ugly category.  This medication is prescribed to relieve these very symptoms and then it increases it.  Occasionally, these reactions/effects can lesson after a few days.  In some cases, they continue to get worse and worse.  Until there is no choice to stop the medication immediately.

THE MEDS SUCK:
I'm currently in the VERY UGLY portion of taking a new(er) medication.  The last paragraph describes what life has been in the last few weeks.  Each and every day increasingly getting worse.  The last few days have been hell.  I've been here before.  I've experienced this before.  I spoke with Jodi last night about the effects.  My pdoc is not in the office at the time.  Seeing someone else is not really an option.  And I've been this route enough times to know that I need to stop the medication immediately before I end up in the hospital.  Jodi and I discussed taking it every other day.  The suicidal ideation wasn't as horrific, was manageable, and not constant prior to reaching the full dose. I'm unable to cut the medication in half, therefore, taking it every other day was the option that seemed like the best action to take.  Giving that a try was something that I was willing to give a try.  After today, I don't believe I will be taking it again. At least not until I can see my doctor in a few weeks.

Under Attack? Probably Not.

Over the last week everywhere I turn..I feel like those around me are constantly preaching at me.  Telling me what I should be doing or not be doing.  Everything from how I should GET to work....to how I should dress myself...to...how much pain medication I should be taking and how I should take it....to who I should vote for....to...everything I do....being told what to do and how to do it.

Maybe it is the medication speaking.
Maybe it is the depression speaking.

Maybe it is the pain speaking.

Maybe these people in my life...they know what they are talking about.
Maybe these people in my life...they don't know what they are talking about.

On Friday evening my Grandpa happened to be one of those people.  Telling me what to do. How to vote. What I should be watching on television.  I was in a rather bad space.  I hurt. I was tired. I was crabby.  So when he went on his political verbal diaherrea of the mouth...I put him in his place.  He is the racist person I know.  So, even if our current president was a Repug....he would hate him.  And....I told him that.  As the words came out of my mouth, I couldn't believe I was actually telling my Grandpa off...so to speak.  "You know...you are the racist person I know.  You don't like O.bama because he is black.  And you wouldn't like him even if he was a Repug...so shush it up to me.  This country offers me the freedom to vote for who I want and I will be damned if I'm gonna let you go on a tangent at 10pm on a Friday night because I don't like  the 'want-to-be' VP."  He continued and then told me "oh, I forget...you are a Union lover.  And so, of course you feel this way."  And then...I lost my shit some more.  Reminding him that not only do "I WORK in a service related field that is supported by a union.  HE RETIRED at "WHAT" age a detective?  And why did he do that?  Because he worked for a union.'  I ended our conversation shortly after on a rather abrupt note.  He had to have the last word of course telling me that when I feel better and am not in so much pain AND on so much pain medication I would feel differently.  I held my tongue from telling him to kiss my ass.

Earlier in the week my therapist told me she wasn't going to tell me what to do, how to do it...only that I needed to find it w/in myself to come up with a better plan for where I was headed.   Because she knows that by telling me I need to do XYZ will only end up with me turning the opposite direction and bulking at the matter at hand even more.  I get what she was saying. And I understand it.  F*ck, I'm living it. See my last post.  And yet, even though I know I needed to hear those things she was saying....it left me in a swirl of preaching. I know Jodi wasn't preaching.  Just like I know that my mom isn't trying to preach at me.  It is just how I'm taking it in at the moment.

This morning, I'm being told that I am doing to much and need to stay home.  If I am going to be able to work I need to lay low.  I call bullshit. I need to be able to be up and mobile and keep my strength up.  Sitting at home is not going to build my strength.  And so the battle continues to rage inside of me.

I'm being told over and over by so many people around me to cut back on the pain medication. And I do.  Until, I leave my house and start doing things.  Pain comes back full-force.  Which leaves me in a panic.  The pain is unbearable. Is it true pain from my surgery? Is it in my head? Is it anxiety induced?  I don't know.  As long as I sit somewhat reclined back...I'm okay and can do 'okay'.

 And then, as I cut back at night...it brings an entirely new set of problems with it.  For the last 5 weeks...the trauma issues that were rearing their ugly head, that were constantly flooding every moment of my day...have been on the back burner.  Simmering. Slowly...simmering.  Somewhat numb.  Actually, lots numb.  I've said it before a few weeks ago in therapy.  And I do believe I mentioned it in a blog post.  I've found myself more and more numb. Conflicted if it is a good thing or bad. NOt sure what to think about it.  Yet, as I cut back more at night...that numbness lessons.  Night terrors start slipping back.  Shame and disgust at so many things begin to creep in more and more.  

This post has went no where. It is my own random ramblings.  Trying to sort the crazy's that are plaguing my ever waking moment.  I've never felt so under attack as I do right now...every where I turn. Afraid to ask for help in fear of being judged, critized even more, told it is my own fault (bc damn it all I know it...I don't need to be told it) and thinking back to Jodi's words from my last appt...I need to do it myself. And truth be told...I don't know that I want to find the answers myself.  If I had them...I wouldn't be where I'm at right now. 

Numb

The narcotic pain meds are doing a number on my stomach.  Heartburn gets worse and worse.  Sleep less and less.

There are moments....little moments here and there where there is relief.  Tuesday after having a massage on Monday there was a little relief. When the pain started back in on Tuesday afternoon/evening it came with a vengeance.  Leaving me with just a few hours of sleep.

I woke after sleeping from 6-8 in my bed... this morning in a world of hurt.  Panicky and full of tears.  My husband called my surgeons office for me. I was woke up by a phone call and was barely able to talk on the phone for that call (that I had to take or I would have let it go to voice mail...it was my work comp case manager).

My surgeon was at the hospital in surgery today.  They promised to call back as soon as they spoke to him in between his cases.  Insisting that he would want to see me and made an appt for me tmw afternoon.  With in an hour the office staff called back.  They wanted me to have someone come in and pick up some pain patch (Flector) and give them a try.

My husband knows that I'm going stir crazy, getting crazy depressed, and needed to get out of the house.  So we went for a drive.  I also, saw my chiropractor while we were out.  My chiropractor knows me very well and one of his first comments was not how I looked on a "you hurt physically" realm of things.  However, he was concerned about how i looked on an emotional aspect.  His questions and concerns were "when do you see your psychiatrist again?  when do you see your therapist?  have you been seeing them?" and blah blah blah... I reassured him that I've seen J* every week since my surgery and have had an appt with Dr. KSB since my surgery.  He encouraged me to call their office and touch base.

The Flector patch provided a few hours of complete pain relief this afternoon/evening.  As I type this I'm having quite a bit of pain and it is a sleepless night, again.

As I have taken less and less of the narcotic pain medications...I am less and less numb to the emotional overload that had taken up residence prior to my surgery.

I absolutely hate how the pain meds make me feel.  And yet, this evening....that numb feeling ...is so much better than having it all exposed out on the surface.

Crushing

Overall I've been doing much better than I was Thursday/Friday.  I tried very hard to have a good weekend with my kids.

I spent the morning/early afternoon on Saturday with my daughter. We did a little bit of shopping, were going to get lunch and then decided to stop and at the pretzel store at the mall since we were there.

Sunday, I met my mom's siblings, cousins, and Step-Dad at the zoo for a picnic lunch and fun at the zoo. I stayed w/the food and table while everyone else went off to play.  The hour of sitting in the shade helped my aching soul.

I've had very few flashbacks/memories to this point.  And what I've had being able to actually put words or understand them has been tough.  Since last week it has been an ongoing flood of flashbacks/memories.  My mom on several occasions has started crying when I've spoke to her. I've been pretty mums-the-word with her with letting her know how I'm actually doing.

  She scolded me for calling him a mother-fucker to his sister and told me I should tell his sister I was sorry. I'm not sorry.  She also told me I shouldn't have said what I did to his mom.  Again, I meant every fucking word I said...and...I will NOT tell her I'm sorry. I won't do it.   

My mom has on several different occasions apologized over and over.  She told me tonight "I used to stand and look out our living room window waiting for him to come home from work.  Wishing that he would be in a car accident and die on his way home.  He wouldn't be able to hurt me or you anymore.  He never died. And by the grace of God his dad and step-mom got me out of that hell hole."  She has never admitted that he ever hurt me.  I don't know what is harder...her not acknowledging it or acknowledging it.

Regardless, it is crushing!!  I wake up feeling like I can't breathe. My chest is being crushed. Nigh terrors are much worse than they were.  I had 2 really good nights sleep.  So far tonight....not so good.     There is an ambulance and State Troopers next door.  The lights woke me up, again.  And that last time I saw him...is being replayed over and over.  I can't help but wonder what would have happened...if those police officers wouldn't have showed up when they did.  And I'm filled with anger....once again.

Control

This post by My Group Therapy on Taking Control hit the nail on the head for me tonight.  It is like she read my mind (okay maybe she did by this FB post) or something.

I saw H* again today.  Once again, very intense.  Very intense to be honest.  A long time trying to re-intergrate and get myself grounded enough to hear what she said.  I know she spent a lot of time talking after my session.  I can't really say right now what she did/did not say.  Processing it is tough.  And will take a few days.  Guess it is a good thing I have a therapy appt w/J* in the morning.  I had been scheduling the 2 appts back to back.  I've gotten out of the habit of doing that and need to try and do it again.  Specially as trauma work seems to be the focus on both sides.
I had planned on coming home to a quiet house.  No kids.  No husband.  Just me and the dogs.  I got a call from a friend who happened to call at just the right time.  I'm glad she had the foresight that "I did not need to be home alone. I needed company. A friend.  Someone to just be with." I ordered pizza and we sat on the deck making fun of my 10 month old psychotic puppy, complaining that it was cold after the sun went down, and just bullshitting with each other. I needed to just have some me time with a friend.  If I would have been by myself I would have went straight to bed.

I have 2 therapy appts tmw.  I have to be honest.  It will take all of my willpower to go to both appts.
In the end...I know I"m just hurting myself if I don't go.  Self destructing is something I"m good at and at the moment that seems to be a montra that I'm following. It isn't working so well for me.

Melding our worlds!

Top of the World  (click link to read)
Love this blog post.  Simple.  Very simple.  Explains so much yet in such an eloquent and simple way.
Unless you have lived a day ....a week...a month in this life you have no clue.
It isn't always just a choice.  It isn't always just a medication.  It isn't always just as easy as it often seems from the outside looking in.  Choosing to live vs give up....it SHOULD be an easy choice.  It isn't.  And fuck if you have NEVER had that struggle than you have no idea how damn lonely...isolating it is.

Melding our worlds sounds awesome to me.

Well $h!T

In the last 24 hours I've said...

Well Shit....on more than one occasion.  I am somewhat proud of myself.  Only one of those times was it something more obscure; including more swear words.

I decided to make lemonaide out of lemons today.  Inviting the Work Comp Nurse C.Manager to join me 'in the room' while at my orthopedic consult today.  I have nothing to hide.  I NEED and WANT there to be no issues with this.  I know from experience that when a nurse is assigned to your case....it is the first step to having it denied.  It is just a matter of time.  I made it very clear that I WANT to get back to work.  Sure the break was nice.  Reality is....I work for a reason. I need the income.  Plain, cut, simple and DRY!!!

I'm hurting this evening....a TON!!  It's all I can do not to cry.  No amount of Tylenol, ice, heat or anything is helping.  Two cortisone injections...one in each shoulder.  blech.  I have a consult for decompression surgery at the end of April.

Adding insult to injury...my blood pressure was high this morning.  I thought maybe it was because of being nervous and upset with having another person that I did not know accompany me to the orth consult.  This evening I had it rechecked when I went to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription.  It was still high. Not as high as earlier...but high enough.  And my exact thoughts were...Well...SHIT.  I've known for a few days it was creeping up there.  I generally have a rather low blood pressure.  Around 110/70 is usually the highest it goes.  This morning it was much higher.  MUCH MUCH higher.  I've got an idea.  It's more than nerves and pain.  And well...SHIT!!  I don't tell my mom much.  However, when I told her my BP was high the very first thing she said "the new med you are on can have a tendency to do that, you know?"  No...I didn't know.  Honestly, I want to just scream.  The jittery crap still happening.  Continued and got even more pronounced this morning when the dose was doubled.  Well...SHIT!  As I mentioned few posts ago, there are other things going on that need to be addressed.  I don't have it in me. I want this medication to work and will have to be in a really  REALLY bad space before I give up.  Fortunately, I've not struggled with daily suicidal thoughts for a few weeks.  (Other than right after my appt w/the new doctor...those first few days were clearly situational....)  However, I'm slowly able to tell that they are creeping back in.  Always starting at night. 

Thank heaven my sons high fever is done.  Last night we had about an hour of my lil guy screaming he was in pain, high fever (103.6 and then 104.1 about 20 minutes after the 103.6 was taken).  After it came done he seemed to do better.  Fell asleep in our bed.  He's maintained a 100.1-102.6 temp most of today.  He felt well enough to go to W.algreens with me and get a treat and medication. 

I'm in limbo.  In need of seeing my therapist. I don't want to call my pdoc bc she isn't a therapist when it comes down to it.  And as 'well versed' as one would think that I am with the clinic that I go to....seeing someone new is rather anxiety inducing.  I'm not sure what to do.  Struggling to keep my head above water.

I have a massage tomorrow afternoon.  My chiropractor has been asking me to consider seeing her again.  Hoping I can get some sort of relief...or a TON of relief.

On the Wings

Shortly before landing in Orlando on March 1.

I would give anything to be on that plane...again!  Headed to ETAAM-Orlando.  It seems like it was so long ago.  Yet it was only 3 weeks ago today, that I got up early and returned home.  As I looked out the window at the wing of this particular plane I recall seeing and feeling so much hope for the coming days.  Hope in finding brighter moments...even if just for a few moments/days. 

I am not actively parenting a child with R.A.D.  However, the after effects have played their toll.  The last few days those after effects have crept into my heart.  Taken up residence in a rather negative toll.  The timing has been horrible.  There is never any good time.  However, right now is really not good.

Add this into the mixture that I'm still trying to figure out which way to turn and which end is up after the psychiatry appt I had w/the new pdoc last Friday.  I am scheduled to see my primary psychiatrist tmw.  The appt may need to be rescheduled because of some technical issues between the two clinics.  And even though I just want to get it done and over with, there is a small part of me that just doesn't want to go.  Accept the fact that this is as good as it gets.

I woke up yesterday morning determined that it was a new day.  No matter what I would revel in that aspect. I would find hope where hope was to be found.  It wasn't for naught....I tried. 

It is now into the wee hours of the next day.  Unable to sleep, searching for some sort of comfort.  It isn't in the M & M's that were on my table.  It isn't in the Dt. Cherry Pepsi that was in our fridge.  It is nowhere to be found in the food that has entered my mouth in hopes to drown out what seems to be taking over. 

The mind is a dangerous thing.  It is a weapon like none other.  It is moments like these that I know I need to pull out the tools and use them.  The tools that several years of therapy have provided me.  Yet, it isn't happening. 

Praying that I can have a bit of a relief.  Get back some of that fight that I had last week.  Once again...it's gone. 

Sometime Today

I will get out of bed....sometime. 
I know it is.nearly 10am.  Quite frankly I don't give a.Shit.
I made the mistake of talking to my mom last night about my appt.  I should have known better.  Her thoughts and comments were hurtful, as usual.
I've felt isolated and alone before.  This morning that reality shines even brighter as I think about moving forward. 
My best friend for the last 18 years and I, have slowly drifted apart.  I know it is in part because I have distanced myself from her.  She is filled with unending drama.  She had an affair with my BIL and continues to be good friends with his family. I don't live those values and so I get that I'm part this is my doing.
It doesn't change the fact that we are still close.  She called yesterday morning while I was on my way home from my Dr appt.  She had asked what I was doing and I told her.  It was once again a confirmation that I am on my own here in my world. 
My husband asks if I am not feeling well or if my shoulder is hurting.  I tell him the truth.   He has nothing to offer.  Nothing to say.  Not even as much as 'I'm sorry'.  As I type this out on my phone in bed...that last bit hurts.  Deep.  And ai cant stop the tears.  I want him to care.  To show me he cares.   He can't.  It isn't in his realm of conscious thinking. And after 18 years of marriage I should be know this.  I do know it. 
I know I'm not alone.  I know there are a few people who will read this and think otherwise.  I know who you are and I appreciate your random FB messages of support very early yesterday morning while I was sitting in the drs office.  And the phone call saying "how did it go?"  The distance between us is to much some days. And try as I might there is no changing it.
There was a nice break in this fucked up cycle of severe depression and suicidal ideation.  I should be thankful I guess. 

RAW, LIES, UGLY....all 3 the same.

Sometimes getting to the raw truth underneath the thick exterior can be somewhat ugly. 
Being able to see past the lies that depression fills your mind, body and spirit with....can be ugly.
Today...that is right where I'm at.  In the ugliest of ugly.

Breathing

Do As One FB Status Reads:    Notice the space between your breaths. Hang out there for a moment or two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Very powerful for me today.  One of the things that I notice myself doing  when I'm down and out, being triggered, PTSD crap kicking in, or just in complete freak the heck out mode is....hold my breathe. 

The last massage I had didn't go so well.  In a world of fight or flight and trying hard to stay present, I found myself holding my breathe more than a few times.  As I've mentioned before that gal I see is great.  She always says something to me about it, bringing my thoughts (and breathe) back to the table.  And on this particular day....I did exactly what the above FB status reads..."notice the space between each breathe...was it short, long, weak, strong, labored, smooth". 
~~~~~

This evening, again in a fit of furry.  PTSD raring its ugly head.  My son, crying bc of an ongoing freaking rash/open sores, my daughter wanting to go to the cell phone store and get a new phone (my sons phone took a bath in the washer....he was due for a new phone anyway.  So he will get my daughters and she will get a new one.  Thankfully, the cell company we use has some great deals on $1 phones. She is planning on using some of her babysitting money and purchasing one that is a bit nicer.)  Anyway, I was struggling.  Struggling w/my childrens needs, wants, and desires.  I WANTED to take my dd to the cell phone store but I could not bare the thought of leaving my house.  I wanted my dh to take her.  He can't.  It is in my name and to do things like get new contract/phones updated I have to go with them.  UGH UGH UGH.

I gave myself permission to come home and go to bed after my therapy appt.  Work was horrid. Chiro appt was horrid.  And therapy is just that..therapy.  It went okay but was just enough to make me want to come home and go to bed an dnot get up...ever.  I resisted that urge and other than a 20 minute hot shower...I stayed present w/what was going on.  Breathing wasn't something I was doing very well.  My dh noticed on several occasions and said "Do you always hold your breathe like that?"  That is all it takes for me to snap out of it.  For a few moments. 

~~~

I finally broke down and called my PCP's office and made an appt.  It took everything I had in me to do it.  As I stood in my kitchen in tears talking to my dh about making this appt he said "You need to do this."  And...I did.  I asked to speak to my PCP's nurse.  I got someone different.  However, she  was who I need to speak with this afternoon.  I have an appt. on Monday.  I have no expectations going in.  My dh was going to go with me. However, he has an appt at the same time that he has had to reschedule 2 different times bc of sick kids.  And he is not willing to change it.  I'm praying for the strength to lay it all out there.  I can only hope and pray that I'm in a space that I can do that.  Today or tmw...that would SOOOO not happen.  We shall see.  And....I will remember to breathe!!

~~~~~~~~~

Therapy, Psychiatrist, Medication Management ..

After a great deal of thought I have decided to make an appt with a different psychiatrist. Specifically one that is experienced with gastric bypass patients.

At my last appt the beginning of December my pdoc made it clear she had no other options for medication nor was she willing to try anything.  I understand where she is coming from. However, I do not agree.  I respect Dr. SB and have for the entire 12 yrs that she has been my psychiatrist. I do not foresee switching 100%.  My hopes are that Dr S will correlate care w/Dr. SB.   It would be awesome if my current pdoc could do this without me having to wait 3+ months for an appt.  I attempted to discuss this with her in December when I last saw her.  She wasnt hearing me and therefore it wasnt an option.  And I'm certain that my current emotional stability st that time wasnt the best either and so getting my thoughts across didn't work to my benefit.
I'm my opinion she believes that seeing my current therapist J* and continuation of DBT is what will be helpful.  I hv no doubts she is correct.

The deal is this....I am at the end of the 6 month course for DBT....the last module to be exact.   I have no plans on continuous group therapy.   It's just not happening! !

I generally see my therapist biweekly.   Sometimes more or less. Which depending upon where I am at ...depends on how much I gain or don't.  I have been in therapy for a hell of a long time.  And more recently just touched upon the tip of the iceberg.  With appts being biweekly I often feel as though it is just what I mentioned...touching upon the tip of the iceberg.  And then another 2 weeks pass and we are back at the rinse and repeat montra. We discuss from time to time what I do/don't need.  And the wall is up.....I don't know what I need.  If I don't know than how the hell am I to expect her to know?  Part of the not knowing comes from past negative therapy experiences.  And even though deep inside me I trust and respect J*....the wall is there.  As we have touched very lightly on the tip of this iceberg......another wall goes up.  The negative experiences come flooding back.  I loose insight on the trust that had been built over the last 3-4 years.  And we rinse and repeat again and again.

I know what I NEED...I just don't trust myself.  And certainly don't trust anyone else. 
There has been a shift in noticing different thoughts, feelings, physical pain, and so forth over the last 2 weeks.  I'm not ready to share them here at this point.

Severe anxiety and suicidal thoughts have ran rampant over the last several days and continue to do so.  How I will ever wait till April is beyond me.  And that isn't even saying this new Dr will treat me w/o coordination of care with my current pdoc.  Which just leads to more time.  I failed to mention that I have had a rather not-so-good experience with this Dr before my WLS.  And he is a man.  I need someone to go with me....just not my husband! !  Unfortunately, having somone go isn't an option and I can only pray that I'm in somewhat of a good space before and do not end up on the end canceling my appt.  I have a history of freaking out and canceling appts.

Ugliest of Days

There have been many ugly days in recent months/weeks/days.  There have been many not so ugly days where life moves foward.  Not wonderful. Not horrible.  It moves and I carry along with it.  Hoping and praying that slowly there will be a shift.

I don't want to go in to details at this point.  I know I have laid almost everything out there in past posts.  Suffice to say that today was a very ugly day.  As in very ugly.  I wanted an out.  I looked for an out at every corner, thought, feeling, ect., ect..

I got in my car to come home from work.  Weather was not good. I pulled out of the parking lot from work and into main road to go home and there was a flood of emergency vehicles.  I was not prepared for what I saw.  It has left me physcially and emotionally ill for the remainder of the evening.  I need to go to sleep and it just isn't happening.  As I close my eyes, I hear the police officers talking.  I hear the man scream at the officers to not come any closer.  I see the flashing lights all over again coming at me from all angles.  Telling the police officer that "I need to be able to move my car and get out of the middle of the chaos...NOW."  And him telling me 'no m'am we need you to stay right here. We can't have anyone move their vehicles.  And me expressing to him in a rather blunt way that I HAD TO MOVE or they would need to have more emergency personal come my way.  I truly...was in a panic.  The officer realized the urgency and made sure I got out of the area. I called my dh. He blew me off. I called my friend L* she was shoveling and turned on the scanner and said just as flurry of activity took place even more...I will call you when you get home...just lookk forward.  I spoke to my dear friend S*.......  I was not prepared to see, hear, be witness to something that I personally think about on a regular basis.

 Someone lost their son, their father, their brother, their husband.....somoene potentially lost a beloved person in their lives tonight.  (I should say that I don't know the ultimate fate of this persons actions.  However, I know that it will be life changing/altering/ending!)

My 9 year old came into my room to put something away.  He saw that I was laying awake in bed and came over and said "Mommy, can I talk to you?"  And we laid in bed and had a great conversation about his week at school.  The good, the bad, the ugly and the awesome.

It is moments like this....laying in bed next to my son that remind me....why I was not the person on that bridge this evening.  Struggle as I might on a day-in-day-out basis with suicidal ideations....I will be damned if I will let this illness take from my children the very thing that they deserve. 

And so.....I continue to fight.  Fight hard.  It is ugly most days.  And not so much many others.  I may drive my husband, best friend, and therapist out of their minds...but damn it all...I will continue to fight and get up each and every damn day. 

For my children.
For me.

*updated to add:  This person involved was drunk.  Involved in a mult-car accident a few blocks away from this bridge.  Fled the scene and decided that jumping off the bridge was the lessor of two evils.  I don't drink and therefore, it is easy for me to call people who do and do stupid shit like this fucking idiots.  It is what it is...and he could probably thanks himself for being to drunk...that is probably what saved his life.  Just like the dumbass who drove their bike into a bus a few months ago....being so drunk saved his life.

DBT

I'm done with it.
Not technically.  But in my heart and desires to keep going ...keep trying to gather something that will he helpful.
I can not nor will I commit to keep it up.  Initially, it was 6 months long.  It has been more than 6 months.  And I'm burnt out.  I starter the beginning of June.  It is middle of January.   More than 6 months.  And....I'm done.  In my heart and desires to keep going.
The last module we just did I could use repeating.  And maybe that is something J* and I need to work on.

There's really no words to describe the place that I'm in right now.  I've been here before.  It isn't anything new.

Don't ask me what I need....I don't know what I need. Well, I know....but it isn't anything anyone can say or do.  Right now - sleep would be nice.

Thursday and Fridays generally are very hard days for me.  If the last 2 days are any indication how the next few days are going to go - I will be in a one hell of a place by "my weekend".    I can't miss work any more than I already have. I can't.  The stress of knowing that....just adds to the downward spiral that I've been in.

Marriage, Meds, Musings

I need a reminder why it is that I've been married for nearly 18 years.  The man, I love him to death some days.  And other days, such as yesterday and today....not so much.

And then I find pictures such as the one below and think...my psychiatrist really doesn't know WTH she is talking about.  She has no clue that I really do need medication to help control the urge to beat the living hell out of someome....such as the man I'm married to.

Needless to say, I do believe a domestic violence charge against me would probably end up costing my job.  I can't afford that right now.

Then again, the picture below.....is yet another reminder my psychiatrist really doesn't know WTH she is talking about.  She has no clue that I really do need medication to help control the urge to beat the living hell out of someone...such as the customer that hit my bus w/her cane today bc I wouldn't stop for her.  Better yet, the customer that was so effn falling down drunk he couldn't follow simple directions until I freeked out and started screaming.  I didn't have anything to throw...or I might have thrown something at him.  (Just ask my dh....he learned the hard way last night.)