when someone you know loves you asks "how are you?" how do you tell them "i would love to be honest that my life right now feels totally out of control and fucked up." that is how i am feeling...but do they want to know that? how can they possibly imagine how the last three weeks of my life has been?(did i mention this blog will show the *otherness* of me? buckle up. it's not going to pretty)
typical responses from my head:
- i have wanted to curl into a ball and not leave my house
- the thought of walking to a ladies' room in a restaurant paralyzed me for 20 minutes until i could summon the courage to do so because i didn't want to talk to anyone if i saw someone i knew and didn't want to consider having *small talk* with someone i didn't...
- that i have felt internal rage over my children's bickering
- i have entertained thoughts of dying. not of killing myself, although it seemed a better alternative than suffering through my jolts every 8 seconds
- smoking cigarettes for the first time in 15 years seemed like a good idea
- i dread the holidays with everything that is in me
- that i feel like i am going to drown when i fall asleep because i have recurring dreams of being underwater and unable to breathe
- i have felt like running away
- that i burst into tears when i was getting ready for work and realized i left my coffee upstairs in my room and didn't have the energy to go get it
- no thought it my head seems rational. not one. nothing flows any more.
9 comments:
Penni, I don't think any of us can be completely open and honest with everyone all the time...and I think that is ok. But I also think we all need someplace where it is safe to say all these thoughts that swirl through our heads at any given moment.
which is why i am here on this blog, dropping the *f* bomb :)
mailing stuff your way tomorrow....
Hi Penni. I just popped over to see what's happening. I noticed the Seroxat stuff and said "wow...i took that for almost 2 years a few years back". I thought you had stopped taking paxil but I didn't realize seroxat may be in the same family of drugs. Anyway, when I stopped taking it, I was weaned off of it over a 6 month period. I had no problem whatsoever. I don't know if that's because my doctor knew exactly how to do it, or if it's because I'm made different from others.
pia, i think it is because your doctor knew exactly how to do it - six months would have seemed like a lifetime to me, but it would have been worth it if you had no problems whatsoever.
on another's blog, i just found out this: "GlaxoSmithKline's unconscionable marketing and distribution of its drug sold in the United States as "Paxil", in the United Kingdom as "Seroxat" so it is actually the UK's version of Paxil.
there you go.
I had a pretty good experience with Paxil until it stopped working very well. I weaned off it over a month or so, I think, and am on Lexapro (and lithium, still) now. I wish I didn't have to take anything, but I do...
As far as telling people how I'm feeling... I generally just will. I might not give them the gory details, depending on who they are and where we are, but if I'm lousy I will often say so.
I was nodding along with most of your list. Sometimes it takes all the energy I have just to GET to work, and then they expect me to DO it, too. I think about death a lot, as well, and went to confession because of it, even. I was glad I got one of our Jesuit priests who was very understanding and brought some psychological insight to bear on it, rather than having a stricgter "suicide = mortal sin" conversation.
Well, thank God my doctor knew what she was doing! And thank God I haven't needed it or other drugs after that. I'll think twice about it if ever the trouble should come up again. Whew!
You've inspired my latest post where I confess to saying more than "fine thanks" and the store! and regret it!
I've had the brain shivers from Prozac withdrawals, and Seroquel too.
Oh, Penni - well, welcome to my world.
It gets better, then it gets different, then it gets better, then it gets different.
Almost everyone I know - certainly everyone I know in recovery - feels this way. Especially about the "thinking of dying, but not killing myself." It's just another version of "else" - the ultimate "get outta Dodge" ticket.
Trust me, you're in the right place. It's survivable, even if it isn't much fun, at times. One day at a time.
At my 2nd AA meeting, a man said to be, "Do you think you can just not drink for the next 24 hours?" A little on edge, I snapped back, "Hell, any asshole can do ANYTHING for 24 hours!!"
He leaned into me, and said, "Yeah? Well, how about YOU?..."
The implication was clear - I wasn't just "any asshole," but a very special kind of asshole - but maybe I could make it 24 hours.
That's still a very big deal to me, sister.
A guy said it best: If you really are one of us, and you're clean and sober, then you are a miracle. Because drunks drink, and junkies use - unless there is a miracle. So if you're not drinking and not using, then by defintion, you are a miracle. Because not drinking and not abusing drugs is an unusual state for us.
This is a tough one friend.
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