I am frustrated by my own tears. I am not sure I own a movie that doesn't make me cry, right down to pure comedy. If I can see myself in a situation I wish I could be in I cry. If it is sad I cry. If it makes me think of something sad I cry. It's really amazing what makes me cry right now. I know why. I understand. I'm just tired of it.
And then today I realized that I spent my career helping people with situational depression. I knew how to counsel through it and how to identify someone in trouble. I did not learn to talk myself through it. Dr.Mind asks me sometimes what I'd tell my patient. This would be why. Managing situational depression became second nature because recovery from injury or illness is rough. I knew how to help. I knew how to judge when I could help in one session or when things were significant and a doctor needed to know. I knew how to handle this right up to suicidal patients. I never thought about this much because it was so common.
But now that it is me I am clueless.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Sunday, March 24, 2013
different than my usual depression
I've been very frustrated lately because I've been fighting depression for what seems like forever and nothing seems to be helping my cycle out of it. I am tired of feeling sad and acting sad. I've then become very frustrated because I am used to depression being something I cycle through and I'm not used to cycles lasting this long. I started at the counseling center because I realized 10 years ago that I was unwilling to face a lifetime of psychiatric issues. I've been back to that part, enough that suicide precautions are ramped up. I'm not planning to hurt myself exactly, just wishing I didn't have to keep living when it hurts. Dr. Mind made me ake a list of why I am so angry and when that turned into a 5 page list some of the answers came out.
I also finally learned that I am not cycling out of this because I have situational depression this time. I am not used to this and because we don't know specifics yet about when I am going to be moving or even specifically where I'll be living. Without something to adjust to apparently it is normal to keep feeling sad until I feel some more control.
I can't tell you how much this little bit of news is helping me. I am surprsied because it doesn't change anything. But knowing why something that should be familiar feels so different helps.
Now I just need to feel better.
I also finally learned that I am not cycling out of this because I have situational depression this time. I am not used to this and because we don't know specifics yet about when I am going to be moving or even specifically where I'll be living. Without something to adjust to apparently it is normal to keep feeling sad until I feel some more control.
I can't tell you how much this little bit of news is helping me. I am surprsied because it doesn't change anything. But knowing why something that should be familiar feels so different helps.
Now I just need to feel better.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Kaboom.
This week is quiet for a new and different reason. I expected to be involved in some counseling homework that is a little intense and that I'm trying to spend a lot of time doing thoroughly. Tuesday I was supposed to watch my niece for the afternoon. My mom was going to be there but busy. I ended up spending Monday night at her house and was up early with the puppy who was crying when my mom was picking up my niece an hour away from home. Since I'd had almost no sleep for 2 nights before that and then limited sleep because of trouble falling asleep and being up with the puppy I took a nap about 10 AM. My mom woke me by yelling upstairs that she was taking my niece for a ride to get her to nap. I headed downstairs to take care of the puppy but couldn't get the baby gate that is on her stairs to open. While I was bending forward pulling on the latch somehow I fell headfirst down the stairs, wrapped up in the gate.
It is a miracle I only have bruises and random sore places that I keep finding 2 days later. The stairs do not have backs and are rather steep. I think I fell down 6 of them, then onto a wooden landing, down another wooden step and then into a window seat headfirst. I don't remember most of it but I do remember knowing I was going to hit my head at the end and couldn't protect myself. I have 3 places I know my head hit, none of them badly. I have bruises everywhere, one of them on my butt which makes things difficult as I have one position I can lay in that only presses on a few bruises and is tolerable but it hurts now because I've been in that position so much. I have sore muscles everywhere I don't have bruises I think.
It truly is amazing I wasn't hurt seriously. I'm also so glad that Anne didn't see it happen. She and my mom apparently were still in the garage (under the room where I landed) and heard a huge thump which my mom has admitted she should have been curious about but somehow she just thought it was nothing. I can't say I would have assumed that noise was human either. Between the awkward position I was in and the gate falling with me I would have assumed that someone had dropped something.
It also has given me lots of time to work on my project. This is going to be interesting as I have this big thing that is not easy to write or to read and just because my symptoms took a turn downward at a less than ideal time I will see Dr. Mind Saturday and then not until a week from Monday. He'll be away so I need to be ok until he's back, no matter how our Saturday discussion goes.
Alright, enough time in the upright typing position for now.
It is a miracle I only have bruises and random sore places that I keep finding 2 days later. The stairs do not have backs and are rather steep. I think I fell down 6 of them, then onto a wooden landing, down another wooden step and then into a window seat headfirst. I don't remember most of it but I do remember knowing I was going to hit my head at the end and couldn't protect myself. I have 3 places I know my head hit, none of them badly. I have bruises everywhere, one of them on my butt which makes things difficult as I have one position I can lay in that only presses on a few bruises and is tolerable but it hurts now because I've been in that position so much. I have sore muscles everywhere I don't have bruises I think.
It truly is amazing I wasn't hurt seriously. I'm also so glad that Anne didn't see it happen. She and my mom apparently were still in the garage (under the room where I landed) and heard a huge thump which my mom has admitted she should have been curious about but somehow she just thought it was nothing. I can't say I would have assumed that noise was human either. Between the awkward position I was in and the gate falling with me I would have assumed that someone had dropped something.
It also has given me lots of time to work on my project. This is going to be interesting as I have this big thing that is not easy to write or to read and just because my symptoms took a turn downward at a less than ideal time I will see Dr. Mind Saturday and then not until a week from Monday. He'll be away so I need to be ok until he's back, no matter how our Saturday discussion goes.
Alright, enough time in the upright typing position for now.
Monday, March 18, 2013
Looked Back
I guess this is a series of posts. This is #3 about the same thing and moving from the same ideas, so if it doesn't make sense you may want to back up a little.
I pulled out the photo album of my last year at the camp. Strangely I learned that there isn't a thing in that book that shows what was going to happen within months of leaving. My journal that year was part of my internship so it wasn't personal. The only difference from other years is that I took many fewer pictures. Perhaps my camera broke. This was nearly 20 years ago so it was a film camera and a highlight of the summer was always getting pictures back from a mail-in developer and passing out duplicates to the staff mailboxes. Maybe I thought I had taken all the pictures I needed. Perhaps I was too busy. My last session has only one picture. I didn't take pictures of the scenery or my trip to Philadelphia that year. I did take a few at Niagara Falls. The next spring I went back for a family camp one weekend. Then I did take many pictures of the scenery and even of my special places, like a place in the woods that I liked to sit and write or read my Bible or numerous other things. I did not even take picture of my poor nose. During an activity called "The Ugliest Counselor Contest" the kids dressed us up and we had to do a gross talent. Because I was pretty fearless and totally grossed the kids out by eating "worms" (gummi worms but so many of them fell for it that I used to wonder how crazy about nature they really though the nature counselor was) I often won. One session that I took few pictures of also I let them go pretty crazy. My hair at the time was nearly to my butt and the ringlet curls that are normal for me were tangled and knotted by humidity and dryness from a summer of heavily chlorinated swimming. Not realizing this I showed them how to tease my hair out and spray it and we laced spider rings through it. I closed my eyes and let them apply make-up, not realizing until it was on my face that they had orange nail polish. There was only a streak on my nose and I let it stay there, assuming it would come off easily. After narrowly missing a win which all the other staff said should have been mine I discovered a few problems. After 3 showers and a full bottle of conditioner my hair was still terribly tangled. And the nail polish wouldn't come off my nose. I finally rubbed at it until it came off, peeling all the skin off my nose in the process. For 2 months I had first a scab and then a red streak on my nose to tell that story of stupidity. I don't even remember when I finally didn't have to explain that story but I do remember how hard the others laughed, as did I. It was one of the goofiest things I've ever done; I truly just did not think. Another thing missing is the practical jokes. A couple of us pulled numerous pranks throughout the summer. Once we stole every right shoe from a male staffer except for leaving him one left shoe and from that pair we took the right one. We hung all those shoes from rafters in the bowling alley and he walked past them about 6 times before noticing. We hid the camp director's golf cart in the woods. He somehow figured it out (probably followed us while we did it) and somewhere I have an award on napkins for that one. We used yarn and "spider-webbed" the art room so that getting in required scissors and a lot of patience. There were more. I have no pictures of any of them.
I do remember when the picture taking stopped. One of my co-workers was named Brenda. I don't usually use real names but this time I did because if she ever finds this I want her to know that she hurt me as much as anyone ever did in my life and she hurt me because I was becoming sick. She was in year 2 when I was in year 3. The year before we'd been really good friends and had shared a cabin once or twice. We had a lot of fun together and she even came to my home with me and a few other friends for a festival that happens every year. The 3rd year started the same and truly I didn't really notice problems with her although about mid-summer I thought she was pulling back a little. She was leaving early to finish things for her upcoming wedding and I assumed the long-agreed plan that I'd be invited and come out to go with another friend who lived on the way was intact. Instead she left and I found all these mean things she'd set up. I still thought she was my friend, right up until her wedding day came and I wasn't invited. I know I worried when she didn't answer emails, but when I realized she had lied to me and been deceitful in pretending to be friends when she hated me, that hurt, more than she probably intended. There was another situation with a guy and me and another person on staff and she may have perceived that differently than it occurred. If you assumed I knew more than I did I really looked kind of evil. But nobody else assumed such a thing, even the other girl to my knowledge. But the pictures stop about the time I think I started worrying about the situation a little. I think things deteriorated with the boy about then too but I'm not sure. I don't think that I knew that it was a false, bad situation until a phone call from a friend once I was back at college told me that the other girl was pregnant. Somewhere in there would also be the humiliating experience of punching him when he tried to kiss me, something I was quite glad about later. As Dr. Mind the first pointed out at the time my instincts were good. Granted, PTSD drove those instincts but they were accurate. I just wish that I'd listened to some of the others warn me from the very beginning that he was a player. They were right. I'd put his name here but I don't remember it. Steve something. I'm sure he hasn't thought of me since I mailed back his shoe that we'd played hide and seek with all summer and that I accidentally left with.
The point is that I can't believe that I look in those pictures and see myself and I don't see what was happening to me. That summer was very manic but it doesn't show in my pictures. Within a few months I'd become so depressed that I gave in and took antidepressants after refusing them for some time. And a few months after that was the first time my depression was severe enough to be dangerous. It would take another 5 years from that summer before I was diagnosed and I had 3 more years that were relatively normal before the summer of 2000 when I knew something was wrong. But that summer was when it all became different in my world. It's so strange that I had no idea what was happening nor did I notice that my own actions were different (like the pictures. Unless my camera did break and I sort of think it did).
Still, strange that this is the first time in all these years I've thought much about this.
I pulled out the photo album of my last year at the camp. Strangely I learned that there isn't a thing in that book that shows what was going to happen within months of leaving. My journal that year was part of my internship so it wasn't personal. The only difference from other years is that I took many fewer pictures. Perhaps my camera broke. This was nearly 20 years ago so it was a film camera and a highlight of the summer was always getting pictures back from a mail-in developer and passing out duplicates to the staff mailboxes. Maybe I thought I had taken all the pictures I needed. Perhaps I was too busy. My last session has only one picture. I didn't take pictures of the scenery or my trip to Philadelphia that year. I did take a few at Niagara Falls. The next spring I went back for a family camp one weekend. Then I did take many pictures of the scenery and even of my special places, like a place in the woods that I liked to sit and write or read my Bible or numerous other things. I did not even take picture of my poor nose. During an activity called "The Ugliest Counselor Contest" the kids dressed us up and we had to do a gross talent. Because I was pretty fearless and totally grossed the kids out by eating "worms" (gummi worms but so many of them fell for it that I used to wonder how crazy about nature they really though the nature counselor was) I often won. One session that I took few pictures of also I let them go pretty crazy. My hair at the time was nearly to my butt and the ringlet curls that are normal for me were tangled and knotted by humidity and dryness from a summer of heavily chlorinated swimming. Not realizing this I showed them how to tease my hair out and spray it and we laced spider rings through it. I closed my eyes and let them apply make-up, not realizing until it was on my face that they had orange nail polish. There was only a streak on my nose and I let it stay there, assuming it would come off easily. After narrowly missing a win which all the other staff said should have been mine I discovered a few problems. After 3 showers and a full bottle of conditioner my hair was still terribly tangled. And the nail polish wouldn't come off my nose. I finally rubbed at it until it came off, peeling all the skin off my nose in the process. For 2 months I had first a scab and then a red streak on my nose to tell that story of stupidity. I don't even remember when I finally didn't have to explain that story but I do remember how hard the others laughed, as did I. It was one of the goofiest things I've ever done; I truly just did not think. Another thing missing is the practical jokes. A couple of us pulled numerous pranks throughout the summer. Once we stole every right shoe from a male staffer except for leaving him one left shoe and from that pair we took the right one. We hung all those shoes from rafters in the bowling alley and he walked past them about 6 times before noticing. We hid the camp director's golf cart in the woods. He somehow figured it out (probably followed us while we did it) and somewhere I have an award on napkins for that one. We used yarn and "spider-webbed" the art room so that getting in required scissors and a lot of patience. There were more. I have no pictures of any of them.
I do remember when the picture taking stopped. One of my co-workers was named Brenda. I don't usually use real names but this time I did because if she ever finds this I want her to know that she hurt me as much as anyone ever did in my life and she hurt me because I was becoming sick. She was in year 2 when I was in year 3. The year before we'd been really good friends and had shared a cabin once or twice. We had a lot of fun together and she even came to my home with me and a few other friends for a festival that happens every year. The 3rd year started the same and truly I didn't really notice problems with her although about mid-summer I thought she was pulling back a little. She was leaving early to finish things for her upcoming wedding and I assumed the long-agreed plan that I'd be invited and come out to go with another friend who lived on the way was intact. Instead she left and I found all these mean things she'd set up. I still thought she was my friend, right up until her wedding day came and I wasn't invited. I know I worried when she didn't answer emails, but when I realized she had lied to me and been deceitful in pretending to be friends when she hated me, that hurt, more than she probably intended. There was another situation with a guy and me and another person on staff and she may have perceived that differently than it occurred. If you assumed I knew more than I did I really looked kind of evil. But nobody else assumed such a thing, even the other girl to my knowledge. But the pictures stop about the time I think I started worrying about the situation a little. I think things deteriorated with the boy about then too but I'm not sure. I don't think that I knew that it was a false, bad situation until a phone call from a friend once I was back at college told me that the other girl was pregnant. Somewhere in there would also be the humiliating experience of punching him when he tried to kiss me, something I was quite glad about later. As Dr. Mind the first pointed out at the time my instincts were good. Granted, PTSD drove those instincts but they were accurate. I just wish that I'd listened to some of the others warn me from the very beginning that he was a player. They were right. I'd put his name here but I don't remember it. Steve something. I'm sure he hasn't thought of me since I mailed back his shoe that we'd played hide and seek with all summer and that I accidentally left with.
The point is that I can't believe that I look in those pictures and see myself and I don't see what was happening to me. That summer was very manic but it doesn't show in my pictures. Within a few months I'd become so depressed that I gave in and took antidepressants after refusing them for some time. And a few months after that was the first time my depression was severe enough to be dangerous. It would take another 5 years from that summer before I was diagnosed and I had 3 more years that were relatively normal before the summer of 2000 when I knew something was wrong. But that summer was when it all became different in my world. It's so strange that I had no idea what was happening nor did I notice that my own actions were different (like the pictures. Unless my camera did break and I sort of think it did).
Still, strange that this is the first time in all these years I've thought much about this.
What I left unsaid
I wrote a longer post earlier. I realized much later that I left out something so important that I can't believe it didn't come more easily.
That previous post describes the happiest times of my life to date. They also describe a strong (physically and emotionally), confident, fun young woman. I thought I knew who that young woman was going to be and I wanted to be her. Instead she's only a part of my past, a part that changed so rapidly that one year later she was gone forever and 5 years later she was unrecognizable as my past.
I've spent so much of this last year trying to learn to live with the part of my past that I still picture as a tiny, curly-haired preschooler/toddler/infant who was hurt so terribly and then grew to be a little girl and teenager who lived through a lot more pain. I suppose I have succeeded in that I do have the ability to see those parts of my life as that, not as something so awful that it must be hidden from even me.
It just makes me sad. Thus, depression. Oddly I'm not sure I've ever thought deeply about all of this. I've talked many times with Dr. Mind about that time in my life and the truly happy memories it left. Like so many things I've never left the sadness in. And now it got me.
Yet if I think much about it I realize that I would not go back to that time and tell myself what was to come, so enjoy. I wouldn't not have those memories and I wouldn't be who I am without them. That time in my life made me a better person, gave me a purpose in life and made up for some of my missed childhood. The practical jokes, the adventures, the things I cannot believe I did in defiance of my lifelong fear of heights, the precious quiet times and the places I found to sneak away to have those, even the sunburns, scars, and memories of injuries (I was bitten badly by kids several times on top of bruises, bites, poison ivy, scrapes, etc.), those are precious memories and it is good to know that I only got a small shot at those things but I did have them once. They say that I should appreciate these things more. I'm not sure about that as I don't know how to judge what I would think if there hadn't been bipolar but I do know that I had a good thing once.
That previous post describes the happiest times of my life to date. They also describe a strong (physically and emotionally), confident, fun young woman. I thought I knew who that young woman was going to be and I wanted to be her. Instead she's only a part of my past, a part that changed so rapidly that one year later she was gone forever and 5 years later she was unrecognizable as my past.
I've spent so much of this last year trying to learn to live with the part of my past that I still picture as a tiny, curly-haired preschooler/toddler/infant who was hurt so terribly and then grew to be a little girl and teenager who lived through a lot more pain. I suppose I have succeeded in that I do have the ability to see those parts of my life as that, not as something so awful that it must be hidden from even me.
It just makes me sad. Thus, depression. Oddly I'm not sure I've ever thought deeply about all of this. I've talked many times with Dr. Mind about that time in my life and the truly happy memories it left. Like so many things I've never left the sadness in. And now it got me.
Yet if I think much about it I realize that I would not go back to that time and tell myself what was to come, so enjoy. I wouldn't not have those memories and I wouldn't be who I am without them. That time in my life made me a better person, gave me a purpose in life and made up for some of my missed childhood. The practical jokes, the adventures, the things I cannot believe I did in defiance of my lifelong fear of heights, the precious quiet times and the places I found to sneak away to have those, even the sunburns, scars, and memories of injuries (I was bitten badly by kids several times on top of bruises, bites, poison ivy, scrapes, etc.), those are precious memories and it is good to know that I only got a small shot at those things but I did have them once. They say that I should appreciate these things more. I'm not sure about that as I don't know how to judge what I would think if there hadn't been bipolar but I do know that I had a good thing once.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
depression
Last week I had a few days that I thought that the depression that has felt so heavy for the last few months was lifting. I even said something funny and laughed at it with Dr. Mind. I think he was so surprised to see me laugh that he laughed harder just because I haven't done that in a long time. And it was actually pretty funny. I was supposed to look at him and say something and instead of doing that I aimed my head toward him and my eyes went to each side, far away. Apparently he can see that and said something and I just told him to average it and it would be perfect. Clearly we have a long way to go on regaining eye contact (with anyone) but still, I did laugh.
But in the last few days it is back. I don't feel like doing anything except sleeping and that is all messed up. I forced myself to exercise yesterday and will again today and I have forced myself to do a few things like cutting out squares to make something for the new baby and I worked on Anne's dress. I threw laundry in the washer earlier. But I haven't done things like clean up the basement or finish washing some dishes that were soaking. Things that need to be done. I just can't. Oddly I am reading. I still have to read everything at least twice and part of reading right now is finding an author that is very easy to follow and whose books were favorites during my driving constantly with books on tape days.
Part of the depression is that I have symptoms of a complication from my hysterectomy. I am not going to say more than that except that Dr. Body is concerned, it may or may not be related to surgery, and it may or may not require further surgery. We're trying a med change (for a non-psych med) first and if that doesn't work (and we both know it is highly unlikely) then I will need to go back to the surgeon who may or may not refer me for more treatment with another doctor. It is just something I do not feel like dealing with and it's a kind of stressful possibility. We'll see.
As is often true and can be so very frustrating my depression is partly related to a happy thing. A week or two ago I posted on the facebook page for the camp I worked at during college. I immediately connected with one of my best friends from then. Which is wonderful. It also has made me think a lot about how grateful I am that I had those 3 summers. Camp adds up to a year of my life and was so healing and growth-producing and amazing. It was the only time in my life where I was just a normal kid and I was doing something I was extremely good at. I was a good occupational therapist but I was not very good with paperwork and keeping up with the constant new additions to Medicare rules that made it harder and harder to be the supervisor. Camp didn't have those things. We had some paperwork but it was minimal and some of it really didn't matter. The kids had a checklist on their lockers that we were supposed to complete to show that clothes were changed, laundry was done, showers given, etc. I'm not sure anyone ever made it through a whole 2 weeks with those things filled out. They got rid of them after a year because of the never filled out thing. It's kind of hard to explain but there's a strong bond that forms when you do that kind of work. I remember constantly thinking "I'm 19/20/21 and people are trusting me to do WHAT?" as I learned to manage catheters, feeding tubes, braces, behavioral issues, colostomies, seizures, and so many other things I could go on for years. My first session I had 2 very hard adult women by myself. Rather than finding it overwhelming or something to survive as I'd expected I found that I loved it and was good at it and that this was my life's calling. My 2nd session I started knowing that I would do this in some capacity but not what. I ended knowing that OT was a perfect fit for me. There were a lot of people who had that kind of experience. Those of us who fell in love with it bonded in ways that never can be repeated. That combined year of my life I laughed more and harder than any other time. We had contests to see who cleaned up the most poopy. We stretched minds to come up with ideas of what to do with 50 active kids when it rained for half the session and the fish pond overflowed into the green that was surrounded by cabins (answer, lots of mud play that I didn't get to do because I had little kids that time) or the opposite, when it was 110 degrees for days on end (answer, one very long pool party that I missed most of because I didn't drink enough water and wound up with a UTI and fever of 103.5.) It was days on end of listening to one obnoxious tape played at blaring until finally the counselor I was paired with leaped up yelling "I got it! I heard the swear word! IT'S MINE!!!". It was laughing until I cried because the male counselor I was with had never changed a diaper and after doing the worst ones for several days I told him that the next poop was his. And it was a poop beyond all other poop, one that we had to give our other kids to someone else and spend 45 minutes handling. It was changing an external male catheter (think condom with a tube) and realizing that my gloved hand was adhered firmly to my charge's genital*ia, then laughing so hard I couldn't tell the other person what was wrong so he could get the swab that released the glue, then he laughed so hard that tears ran down his face and he had to leave after tossing me a swab I couldn't open. (To be fair this child was not aware of what was happening or we would have held it together. Not professional but we were not professionals. Again, we were 19.) It was singing "daddy is a lupdup" over and over because it made my camper happy and was her only expression. It was restraining a teenage girl with numerous issues when she bit a piece off of a bench (I still have that piece). It was hearing a child make a noise and leaping from my bunk to the floor in time to hold him while he seized. It was also the most beautiful place I've ever been, so it was waking every morning until at least July and watching the fog rise off the mountain streams. It was the summer where I rarely slept as mania entered my life with a stronger hold than ever before but which meant that at every camp-out I was able to watch these amazing sunrises from a mile up a mountain. It was amazing.
I have known since the first day that those weren't things I would ever repeat once I didn't work there. By the time I finished my 3rd year I knew it was time to move on, that I had outgrown some of the magic. My friend who did a part of a 4th year confirmed that. I just never thought that a time would come when I thought laughing once was magic. I knew then to appreciate what I had and that it was good only for that time but I did not know that my definition of challenge would change so much. Remembering all this is happy.I'm just sad that I don't have much in my life that is so intensely happy now. It's also, honestly, hard to see people from college and grad school and how well they are doing. I'm getting reminders of that now because my college reunion is coming up and let's just say I don't fit into my reunion group well. I also have found a few people from grad school and they are in academic positions now, which is consistent with a lot of our training and their goals. I don't remember so many people's last names so that makes others hard to find, which is probably for the best.
I don't know what else to say. I'm just tired and I can't seem to find the thing that brings happy back. Since I never was able to use my SAD lamp this year it may simply be sunshine. I'm certain that will help as it has the few times I've had a chance to try. But this depression is harder because I want it to leave so badly and I'm just so very tired. I haven't eaten in a very long time so I guess I should try that.
But in the last few days it is back. I don't feel like doing anything except sleeping and that is all messed up. I forced myself to exercise yesterday and will again today and I have forced myself to do a few things like cutting out squares to make something for the new baby and I worked on Anne's dress. I threw laundry in the washer earlier. But I haven't done things like clean up the basement or finish washing some dishes that were soaking. Things that need to be done. I just can't. Oddly I am reading. I still have to read everything at least twice and part of reading right now is finding an author that is very easy to follow and whose books were favorites during my driving constantly with books on tape days.
Part of the depression is that I have symptoms of a complication from my hysterectomy. I am not going to say more than that except that Dr. Body is concerned, it may or may not be related to surgery, and it may or may not require further surgery. We're trying a med change (for a non-psych med) first and if that doesn't work (and we both know it is highly unlikely) then I will need to go back to the surgeon who may or may not refer me for more treatment with another doctor. It is just something I do not feel like dealing with and it's a kind of stressful possibility. We'll see.
As is often true and can be so very frustrating my depression is partly related to a happy thing. A week or two ago I posted on the facebook page for the camp I worked at during college. I immediately connected with one of my best friends from then. Which is wonderful. It also has made me think a lot about how grateful I am that I had those 3 summers. Camp adds up to a year of my life and was so healing and growth-producing and amazing. It was the only time in my life where I was just a normal kid and I was doing something I was extremely good at. I was a good occupational therapist but I was not very good with paperwork and keeping up with the constant new additions to Medicare rules that made it harder and harder to be the supervisor. Camp didn't have those things. We had some paperwork but it was minimal and some of it really didn't matter. The kids had a checklist on their lockers that we were supposed to complete to show that clothes were changed, laundry was done, showers given, etc. I'm not sure anyone ever made it through a whole 2 weeks with those things filled out. They got rid of them after a year because of the never filled out thing. It's kind of hard to explain but there's a strong bond that forms when you do that kind of work. I remember constantly thinking "I'm 19/20/21 and people are trusting me to do WHAT?" as I learned to manage catheters, feeding tubes, braces, behavioral issues, colostomies, seizures, and so many other things I could go on for years. My first session I had 2 very hard adult women by myself. Rather than finding it overwhelming or something to survive as I'd expected I found that I loved it and was good at it and that this was my life's calling. My 2nd session I started knowing that I would do this in some capacity but not what. I ended knowing that OT was a perfect fit for me. There were a lot of people who had that kind of experience. Those of us who fell in love with it bonded in ways that never can be repeated. That combined year of my life I laughed more and harder than any other time. We had contests to see who cleaned up the most poopy. We stretched minds to come up with ideas of what to do with 50 active kids when it rained for half the session and the fish pond overflowed into the green that was surrounded by cabins (answer, lots of mud play that I didn't get to do because I had little kids that time) or the opposite, when it was 110 degrees for days on end (answer, one very long pool party that I missed most of because I didn't drink enough water and wound up with a UTI and fever of 103.5.) It was days on end of listening to one obnoxious tape played at blaring until finally the counselor I was paired with leaped up yelling "I got it! I heard the swear word! IT'S MINE!!!". It was laughing until I cried because the male counselor I was with had never changed a diaper and after doing the worst ones for several days I told him that the next poop was his. And it was a poop beyond all other poop, one that we had to give our other kids to someone else and spend 45 minutes handling. It was changing an external male catheter (think condom with a tube) and realizing that my gloved hand was adhered firmly to my charge's genital*ia, then laughing so hard I couldn't tell the other person what was wrong so he could get the swab that released the glue, then he laughed so hard that tears ran down his face and he had to leave after tossing me a swab I couldn't open. (To be fair this child was not aware of what was happening or we would have held it together. Not professional but we were not professionals. Again, we were 19.) It was singing "daddy is a lupdup" over and over because it made my camper happy and was her only expression. It was restraining a teenage girl with numerous issues when she bit a piece off of a bench (I still have that piece). It was hearing a child make a noise and leaping from my bunk to the floor in time to hold him while he seized. It was also the most beautiful place I've ever been, so it was waking every morning until at least July and watching the fog rise off the mountain streams. It was the summer where I rarely slept as mania entered my life with a stronger hold than ever before but which meant that at every camp-out I was able to watch these amazing sunrises from a mile up a mountain. It was amazing.
I have known since the first day that those weren't things I would ever repeat once I didn't work there. By the time I finished my 3rd year I knew it was time to move on, that I had outgrown some of the magic. My friend who did a part of a 4th year confirmed that. I just never thought that a time would come when I thought laughing once was magic. I knew then to appreciate what I had and that it was good only for that time but I did not know that my definition of challenge would change so much. Remembering all this is happy.I'm just sad that I don't have much in my life that is so intensely happy now. It's also, honestly, hard to see people from college and grad school and how well they are doing. I'm getting reminders of that now because my college reunion is coming up and let's just say I don't fit into my reunion group well. I also have found a few people from grad school and they are in academic positions now, which is consistent with a lot of our training and their goals. I don't remember so many people's last names so that makes others hard to find, which is probably for the best.
I don't know what else to say. I'm just tired and I can't seem to find the thing that brings happy back. Since I never was able to use my SAD lamp this year it may simply be sunshine. I'm certain that will help as it has the few times I've had a chance to try. But this depression is harder because I want it to leave so badly and I'm just so very tired. I haven't eaten in a very long time so I guess I should try that.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Big news
I'm late posting this, but Thursday I finally got a call from Dr. Brain. She went through a long process that ultimately got me approved for a year of Emsam with my current income. It should be here just in time to run out. I am so relieved and thankful. In fact my depression and anxiety actually have been a little better the last couple days.
It's been rather chaotic though. My cat has a chronic sinus infection that we've been through a bunch of antibiotics trying to treat. This time we had to do a stronger one that tastes terrible and which ultimately made him sick so I had to stop it. We've been staying at my mom's so she could help me give the medicine and she has a new puppy so it's a little wild, even before chasing Noah, tricking Noah and medicating him. Then the clean-up of vomit started yesterday. I'm not sure what the vet will want to do now.
That's most of my news. It's huge but the rest of life is kind of boring. Which is fine with me.
It's been rather chaotic though. My cat has a chronic sinus infection that we've been through a bunch of antibiotics trying to treat. This time we had to do a stronger one that tastes terrible and which ultimately made him sick so I had to stop it. We've been staying at my mom's so she could help me give the medicine and she has a new puppy so it's a little wild, even before chasing Noah, tricking Noah and medicating him. Then the clean-up of vomit started yesterday. I'm not sure what the vet will want to do now.
That's most of my news. It's huge but the rest of life is kind of boring. Which is fine with me.
Sunday, March 03, 2013
McDonald's tried to kill me
So this was my evening as sent to McDonald's. I'm wondering how late this will keep me up:
I have a complaint and it's serious. About 9:05 pm EST 3/2/13 I was driving on _________________. I was attempting to pass a McDonald's semi beginning 3 miles from the exit. I was going 65-70 mph due to the semi gaining speed down the hill and my need to take the exit. I passed him after signaling with plenty of room in front of him but had to slow a bit because there was a salt truck in front of me going much slower than 65-70 mph. When I did this your semi had plenty of space. He certainly had no emergency reaction; he did not hit airbrakes nor did he use his horn. I have repeatedly gone through this in my mind because I'm not perfect and I suppose in some way he could have felt I cut him off. I believe instead he wasn't paying attention or was drowsy. He had a view of the upcoming salt truck while going downhill and I am positive I gave him space as I was thinking consciously about this due to the upcoming exit. He proceeded to endanger both of our lives and possibly the lives of others around us while I was unable to see. First he turned on his high beams, effectively blinding me. I slowed significantly as I couldn't see anything. He then proceeded to pull onto the right berm and pass me there. Following that astoundingly stupid and dangerous maneuver he had to hit his brakes several times because of the salt truck. He proceeded to take exit ____ West. I did turn my high beams on long enough to get the trailer number, which was 481245. I was not able to read the license plate as it was dirty.
This is not acceptable behavior. I am still shaking 30 minutes later. I'm also extremely disappointed that a major and respected corporation is hiring drivers willing to endanger others. Again, had there been ANY way that I could have been partially to blame that would be one thing, but there wasn't. I believe that what probably happened is that I passed him, signaled I was going to merge and he continued to speed up, using the remainder of the speed from the large hill. Semi drivers do this constantly here and we automatically account for it. Had he been paying attention at all he would have known the salt truck was very close; his need to hit the brakes hard several times after the illegal pass shows he wasn't paying any attention and I believe that led to my being in front of him without him paying attention to my signal or merge. I was very cautious about merging given the dark, a potentially icy bridge, the upcoming exit and the semi. Therefore I know that he had plenty of space if he were awake and paying attention. Had he somehow been in danger of hitting me enough that he needed to go into the edge of the road on the right he wouldn't have had the speed to fly past me from that lane at 65-70 mph about 30 seconds after I passed him. It was not an emergent reation; the headlines were on high before he was anywhere but fully in the right lane or I wouldn't be have been so blinded (and the light was coming straight in). As I said I have been trying to find anything I did that was my fault and there is nothing. His reactions were dangerous, and will make me much less likely to go to McDonalds as I do not go to places that hire drivers who endanger my life. This could easily have led to a multi-car accident and fatalities. Totally unacceptable.
I have a complaint and it's serious. About 9:05 pm EST 3/2/13 I was driving on _________________. I was attempting to pass a McDonald's semi beginning 3 miles from the exit. I was going 65-70 mph due to the semi gaining speed down the hill and my need to take the exit. I passed him after signaling with plenty of room in front of him but had to slow a bit because there was a salt truck in front of me going much slower than 65-70 mph. When I did this your semi had plenty of space. He certainly had no emergency reaction; he did not hit airbrakes nor did he use his horn. I have repeatedly gone through this in my mind because I'm not perfect and I suppose in some way he could have felt I cut him off. I believe instead he wasn't paying attention or was drowsy. He had a view of the upcoming salt truck while going downhill and I am positive I gave him space as I was thinking consciously about this due to the upcoming exit. He proceeded to endanger both of our lives and possibly the lives of others around us while I was unable to see. First he turned on his high beams, effectively blinding me. I slowed significantly as I couldn't see anything. He then proceeded to pull onto the right berm and pass me there. Following that astoundingly stupid and dangerous maneuver he had to hit his brakes several times because of the salt truck. He proceeded to take exit ____ West. I did turn my high beams on long enough to get the trailer number, which was 481245. I was not able to read the license plate as it was dirty.
This is not acceptable behavior. I am still shaking 30 minutes later. I'm also extremely disappointed that a major and respected corporation is hiring drivers willing to endanger others. Again, had there been ANY way that I could have been partially to blame that would be one thing, but there wasn't. I believe that what probably happened is that I passed him, signaled I was going to merge and he continued to speed up, using the remainder of the speed from the large hill. Semi drivers do this constantly here and we automatically account for it. Had he been paying attention at all he would have known the salt truck was very close; his need to hit the brakes hard several times after the illegal pass shows he wasn't paying any attention and I believe that led to my being in front of him without him paying attention to my signal or merge. I was very cautious about merging given the dark, a potentially icy bridge, the upcoming exit and the semi. Therefore I know that he had plenty of space if he were awake and paying attention. Had he somehow been in danger of hitting me enough that he needed to go into the edge of the road on the right he wouldn't have had the speed to fly past me from that lane at 65-70 mph about 30 seconds after I passed him. It was not an emergent reation; the headlines were on high before he was anywhere but fully in the right lane or I wouldn't be have been so blinded (and the light was coming straight in). As I said I have been trying to find anything I did that was my fault and there is nothing. His reactions were dangerous, and will make me much less likely to go to McDonalds as I do not go to places that hire drivers who endanger my life. This could easily have led to a multi-car accident and fatalities. Totally unacceptable.
The Anti-Jen drug, or a better explanation of my current med situation
I posted the other day that we are in a holding pattern waiting for a new antipsychotic to be relased. I'm sure I've said that before. I should explain. Also, Jean Grey as she often has done for me told me about a drug called Ascendin that I'd actually never heard of and thought maybe I could ask about taking it instead of the MAOI. I can't.
The situation right now is that I am in a corner. There are meds I haven't tried or that didn't get a huge trial but there are reasons for not being able to take them. One antipsychotic that I always blank on the name of sounded great until Dr. Brain found an interaction with Seroquel she wasn't willing to risk. Anti-psychotics were a tricky business for me for a long time and it was hard to get one I could tolerate. The first one I took, Geodon, caused extrapyrmadal symptoms, which are unreversible if the med isn't stopped quickly. In my case I spent several weeks sticking my tongue in and out of my mouth like a snake, without control of it, even when my tongue would bleed from rubbing on my teeth. I think I was on Geodon maybe 4-6 months before this became a problem. Next we tried adding Abilify. I don't know if she planned to switch since Geodon didn't work quickly for me and I was in a bad place. Abilify gave me my first case of akathesia, the must move constantly and without stopping syndrome that hospitalized me in Sept. 2012. Those first 2 were in 2004. We waited probably a year to try anti-psychotics again and this time it was Risperdal. I felt better on it but it increased my blood pressure badly. At that point we knew antipsychotics would be tricky. About 15 months later I re-tried Risperdal to see if the blood pressure issue was definitely linked. It was. Several months later I think we tried a 3 day pulse of Risperdal and my blood pressure went up again. So we knew that was out. After those reactions I had cause entered a tricky spot. I can't have any older antipsychotics because the risk of extra-pyramidal symptoms is higher, and when I developed akasthesia again last fall from a related but not psychiatric drug that meant I will be at risk for movement disorder with any drug that can cause it, one of which is lithium. Since lithium is vital can cause similar reactions.
When I finally went on Seroquel it was with the knowledge that it didn't have a huge chance of working and it did have a good chance of causing problems. We tried to counter that by taking months to reach a therapeutic dose. I was off work for I think 4 1/2 months and only on a therapeutic dose for maybe a month of that. It has worked for me and I haven't had issues although after my last akasthesia my psychiatrist doesn't want to increase the dose further. but now she doesn't want to increase. I'm on a pretty high dose but have been on more in the past We took a chance and tried a pretty high dose of Seroquel along with a good bit of Zyprexa if you're already on a lot of Seroquel trying to treat that and it didn't work. Zyprexa is a less than ideal drug for me because I have a family history of severe, fatal, limb and kidney losing diabetes that hits pretty much everyone between 40 and 50. It also had no effect and I'm allowed to get rid of it so I guess it's very unlikely we'll be returning to it. Seroquel though works pretty well and if some combination of meds that helped depression and anxiety safely were found I might not need an addition. The last addition we tried was Latuda. It was new and I was my doctor's first patient on it. She thought that sounded like a great drug and everyone I've met on it has loved it. I hated it. It made me worse and I was off it quickly.
Then there are the other drugs. MAOIs seem to work for me. I still don't know what is happening with that but that's another discussion that you don't want to hear. Michal knows. It's not pretty waiting here at this point. MAOIs can sometimes be supplemented by a tiny dose of a tricyclic antidepressant. However when that was tried in the hospital last time nobody was comfortable with it. I didn't even remember I was taking it because it was not very effective, and I wasn't in a good place to monitor side effects/ notice if they were dangerously interacting. There was also a change from the days when I had enormous amounts of imipramine, another tricylic around. Tricylics can be lethal in overdose and I'm not allowed any more of that than possible. I had to earn my way back to klonopin that I'd taken for years because of the risk, even with monitoring. There is one med left that might help with sleep but I've not been considered safe enough to have it either.
My doctors really took the suicidal stuff seriously last year. It's so blurry but I was serious enough that no chances apparently will ever be taken again. Dr. Mind has told me that he felt last year that if I attempted suicide I would have succeeded. It seems that they still believe this and that until I am more comfortable with life I'm going to be considered at risk. That means no meds that are potential dangerous in any dose higher than absolutely necessary. That means no tricyclic antidepressants, the SSRIs and variations don't work for me at all, so MAOIs it is. I'm sure the pills will be less safe and I'll only be allowed a minimum of them. It's hard to overdose with patches which is one reason Dr. Brain does not want me off them. I don't know what my suicide note said but it scared the people who treat me into this state of not really being ready to trust me, possibly ever again. Again, this is based a lot on their belief that I am serious and would succeed. I believe I must have laid out some plan in that note which really made them cautious. I don't know.
The drug that Jean Grey mentioned, Ascendin, is like all the med problems I have at once. I wondered why I'd not heard of it; I've been on so much and discussed so many other options that it's rare that I've not heard of something. It would be a great drug if they wanted to see what horrible things could happen. It's a tricyclic for one thing, so it has overdose potential. I think they once said I've failed so many tricyclics that they weren't likely to work, although this one is different. It also has properties of the older antipsychotics which means movement disorder risk. Andit's hard to determine if it is ok with MAOIs although my doctor would know that, although she'd rather tweak elsewhere than combine. We're finding creative solutions. I was on Neurontin for a while in 2012 but it drugged me. Now after we brainstormed about sleep and anxiety I'm on a tiny bit and it helps. I get to sleep nearly every night by 3 and the anxiety is a little more manageable. So there are things that can help, they're just hard to find and sometimes it requires saying "this didn't work before but what if we try a tiny, tiny bit and see" and then it is ok. Some drugs can't even be tried that way, but when we find something it usually is an improvement if only tiny. Neurontin is strange in that I fall asleep but I never get tired. One minute I'm reading and the next I'm out cold. I am supposed to be adjusting to Nuvigil to help re-organize my sleep but the depression and some panic attacks just about when I should fall asleep haven't made that every easy so for now I'm working on that one. I would like to get on it because when I've taken it and seen my mom she immediately sees my cognition improve a bit, or at least my speech does.
So that's the long story behind my med woes. They don't want to try things that I've failed before or failed the close cousin before, they don't want movement disorders, they don't want further cognitive effects, they don't want me to be able to kill myself easily. All good things I guess butit does make it tricky.
Meds, complicated, life story.
Copyright 2006 www.masterofirony.blogspot.com
Friday, March 01, 2013
Stressing me out
Dr. Brain has been in my life longer than almost anyone else. It will be 10 years in April and I have seen her nearly every month since then. I think we've missed 4 months. She's been available via email and phone during all that time and has worked as hard as anyone could to keep me doing ok. Dr. Mind reminds me when I get annoyed with her that she has saved my life a few times. Still, sometimes she gets distracted and doesn't get things done very efficiently. This has only been true since her cancer and I know it is because she made conscious choices at that time to be with her family and other interests more. She told me that while holding me while I cried the month I applied for SSDI, to not let myself be so caught up in wanting to work that I had to learn hard lessons from cancer as she had.
Right now she is making me so anxious I could scream. In early December I discovered that I wasn't eligible for assistance with the patch. Since then I've been waiting for her to try to get them to continue providing them as a mercy measure. As of today I have 23 patches left. If I am weaning I probably only need 7 of them for the wean since they'll get cut and then I'll go to the few lower dose ones that I have left. However, I need to be able to make some big decisions and they are partially hinging on whether or not I'm going to be going through tremendously difficult times in a few weeks. These are decisions like when I am moving, something I am not willing to cope with if I have to add depression to what I'm already feeling. se At this point I have to assume that the drug company isn't going to help. They haven't requested any information from me and they would need to start sending patches pretty soon if there isn't going to be a gap in my meds. If not....I don't know anything for sure. I haven't had a chance to ask questions since they were all hypothetical and I won't see her until this is over one way or another. I know what med I want to be on because it's the only MAOI I can afford. I haven't gotten confirmation that this will happen. I don't want to haust ve to fight the hospital dr. about that. There are so many things that seem so big to me and I feel like she is devaluing even while I know there are other things going on.
I just am tired of waiting. Had I known I wouldn't know until days before I would have adjusted expectations but as it is I've been expecting to know something for months.
This isn't close to my biggest problem but it is the one that feels like it is causing blisters. So tired of this particular worry and thinking answers were forthcoming.
Right now she is making me so anxious I could scream. In early December I discovered that I wasn't eligible for assistance with the patch. Since then I've been waiting for her to try to get them to continue providing them as a mercy measure. As of today I have 23 patches left. If I am weaning I probably only need 7 of them for the wean since they'll get cut and then I'll go to the few lower dose ones that I have left. However, I need to be able to make some big decisions and they are partially hinging on whether or not I'm going to be going through tremendously difficult times in a few weeks. These are decisions like when I am moving, something I am not willing to cope with if I have to add depression to what I'm already feeling. se At this point I have to assume that the drug company isn't going to help. They haven't requested any information from me and they would need to start sending patches pretty soon if there isn't going to be a gap in my meds. If not....I don't know anything for sure. I haven't had a chance to ask questions since they were all hypothetical and I won't see her until this is over one way or another. I know what med I want to be on because it's the only MAOI I can afford. I haven't gotten confirmation that this will happen. I don't want to haust ve to fight the hospital dr. about that. There are so many things that seem so big to me and I feel like she is devaluing even while I know there are other things going on.
I just am tired of waiting. Had I known I wouldn't know until days before I would have adjusted expectations but as it is I've been expecting to know something for months.
This isn't close to my biggest problem but it is the one that feels like it is causing blisters. So tired of this particular worry and thinking answers were forthcoming.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
< -- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter -->