Category Archives: depression

my friend

I’m still here. I’m still on Nardil, yet I still struggle. There are ups and downs, good times and bad. But, the voices associated with anxiety and depression are turned WAY down. They’re no longer in control.

A friend died earlier this week. After several attempts, she made it permanent with a hand gun and a lot of pills. I don’t know where she is now, but I do know the pain for her is gone. I miss her. She was one of the good ones. She fought too damn hard to be where she’s at now. I’m not mad at her. I just miss her. I really miss her.

I’m in a better place (albeit, a very different place) now too, dealing with the struggle a day at a time. I hope you are too, my friend.

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depression is waiting

It’s been too long since I last blogged. Typing this right now is bringing back lots of memories, good and bad.

As many of you know, I tried to kill myself on 5/20/2011.

This attempt was very serious. Months of planning and plotting coupled with hundreds of dollars spent on drugs from India went into it. I carried that exact date in my head for weeks – in a cruel way, it kept me going. *Please do a search if you want more info.*

Anyway, since I am no longer in that state of mind, I have been thinking a lot about how I felt then. I’ve been trying to organize my thoughts into something coherent, but they’re just not coming together. I still want to share them though. My hope is that by sharing them and starting a discussion with you (if anyone still reads this), it will bring me some closure.

So over the next few days, I will be doing a series of posts detailing some of my notes/thoughts.

Depression is waiting.

Time moved slower. I moved slower, as I waited for something – anything, really – to change. The days grew longer, and the only thing that seemed to make speed them up, were thoughts of an exit. Death, in other words. 

nardil blues

I’m really tired. One of the nasty side effects of Nardil is insomnia. It usually happens at a higher dose than the one I’m on now, so when the insomnia hit me earlier this week it caught me off guard. I’ve always been one to get at least 7 to 8 hours of sleep a night. This week, however, I’ve been getting between 4 and 6. It’s starting to take it’s toll on my system.

It’s hard enough being overworked, underpaid, and undervalued at work but when you throw insomnia into the mix, it just makes it all so much worse. Last week I felt so great. Both the depression and anxiety lifted. I was euphoric. Everything seemed to be going well. I felt like I was going in the right direction.

Now the depression has really swept back in and the anxiety is starting to creep back as well. I’m starting to lose a little bit of hope.

On a lighter note I got my tattoo finished last Sunday. The session went great. I’m running a half-marathon this Sunday, which should be interesting due to my fatigue. I have been training fairly consistently over the last few months but this past week I’ve sort of given up a bit but that’s okay because I should be resting this week anyway.

I’m really stressed about my job and school situation. I have four more classes to take to graduate. My original plan was to take two classes in the Fall, one in the Spring, and one in the summer. I’m making very little money at this point at work so getting financial aid would help, but I really don’t know if I can handle taking two classes in the Fall plus work full time. (I have to take at least two classes to be eligible for aid.) I also desperately need to get some experience in the library.

So I am thinking about taking one class in the Fall plus volunteer at a library, and then one internship in the Fall and one in the summer as well, and then take my final course the following Fall. So I won’t graduate until December 2012. This seems ideal, but I’d like to find a new job that pays more. I started looking for jobs earlier this week, which always puts me into a foul mood to begin with, but the insomnia and subsequent depression has kind of put a damper on that.

Ugh. I’ll stop complaining.

structure AND chaos

Please note: This is my entry for June’s Blog Carnival of Mental Health. The topic is hope and despair.

***

Structure is my one true love. I love going to bed every night at ten and getting up at six. I love running three miles on Wednesday, five miles on Friday, and six miles on Sunday, and I love knowing that my distance for each of those days increases by ten percent each and every week. I love reading a chapter from a book on my commute into work every morning and then another chapter at night before bed. I love planning activities way in advance, so when I do have to deviate from my schedule, I can plan accordingly.

I could go on and on and on.

Structure serves a purpose for me: it provides hope amongst chaos. It’s also synonymous with perfection. When I know exactly what I’m doing and when I’m doing it, I can remain free from uncertainty, and anxiety stays somewhat at bay.

The problem becomes when uncertainty, chaos, and despair creep back in, which is inevitable. This sends me into a downward spiral. When an unexpected social situation comes up that keeps me out late and floods me with anxiety, I get worn down and it takes a few days to recover. The more deviations, the longer and harder it is for me to recover.

For those who don’t know, last January I entered a downward spiral that stole all hope and ended in two hasty suicide attempts and one well thought out attempt that probably would have killed me if I had carried it out. There’s plenty of triggers to look at, but I think my obsession with structure is the main culprit.

Up until that point I thought I had everything under control–that is, I had developed a set of routines that I thought were impenetrable. However, I went from only going to school online and being subject to few real social situations to having a full-time job and an internship. It was too much. They broke down my structures so much I couldn’t recover. And so I gave up.

I let myself be taken by chaos. I let myself fall further and further down. Granted, I started planning for suicide, which ironically in itself brought structure. But for the most part, I let all structure go.

Now that I’m stable and can look more objectively at what happened, I know that I need structure. I’m just that type of person. The question, though, becomes–How can I have structure but still allow some chaos and uncertainty in without letting it destroy me?

I don’t have an answer. But I do believe it starts with awareness. It starts with knowing that life is full of uncertainties and I cannot possibly plan for every little thing. I mean life isn’t some science experiment with set variables, yet so far it’s been my best defense against anxiety to treat it as such. I am learning that there is a balance between structure and chaos; it’s not an either/or situation. There will always be hope and despair in my life, sometimes at the same time–and I’m learning that that’s okay.

no direction

There’s no way around it: the depression has lifted. Unfortunately, now that I’m no longer depressed, I have to deal with the triggers as well as finding preventions so I don’t get trapped again.

I feel good so far about Nardil. I’m still in the early phase, so I’m on a very low dose and experiencing no side-effects (but no benefits either), but I do feel hopeful about this drug. I’ve never felt good about medication in the past. I question it. I think about it too much–Is it working? Is this me or the medication? Etc. But I’m not doing that this time. I have faith, I guess.

The bigger issue for me is what direction should I go in career-wise. I feel stuck. I don’t like my accounting job–and I dislike my boss even more–but I could stick it out just because it’s easy if it paid more. My boss, on the other hand, believes I want more from the job. He wants me to eventually take over running the business. Again, I have no idea what he sees in me. Regardless, the work is not something I particularly like doing and I don’t feel like the work helps people–so I’m not fulfilled at the moment.

Then there’s my education. For those who don’t know, I’m in graduate school, training to become a librarian. I have 3 classes left to take. I guess this is the ideal path for me because I may get more enjoyment out of the work and it definitely helps people. But I’m worried that I won’t be able to find a job after I graduate. I wish I could just push my worries aside, let things happen, and worry about finding a job when I’m actually finding a job .. but that’s not me.

So, at the moment I feel lost. When the episode of major depression hit, I had just started my accounting job. I cannot ignore that. I think that when you’re already dealing with mental health issues, dissatisfaction with other life circumstances–i.e., my job–can make it seem like your issues are even more insurmountable, which exasperated my depression.

I have no answers right now, and I probably won’t have any answers for a while. One day I may be content with my circumstances, just not today. I guess that’s okay for right now.

starting nardil

I just picked up my script. I’m scared. This drug is old and nasty and has terrible side effects, but apparently it really reeeally works. It seems like it’s the last line of defense, medication-wise, for depression. It’s also supposed to be really reeeally great for social anxiety.  But there’s so many food restrictions–http://www.dr-bob.org/tips/maoi.html

I have to eliminate so much from my diet. I’m vegetarian, and I can’t have soy products or protein shakes or nuts. I guess I’m going to start eating meat again.

Aside for the food restrictions, there’s, again, really reeeally bad side effects, which apparently according to my research mysteriously go away after a few months and you’re left in bliss. With my history of medication, though, I’m not feeling very hopeful.

I just want something to work. I just want to feel better. I’m not expecting a miracle or a quick fix, just a little relief.

If the ends justify the means ..

a setback

As expected, depression caught up to me last night. Along with it came intense claustrophobia, which brought anxiety and at times near panic; sadness; unfulfillment; and the inability to do even the most basic tasks.

I tried to just go with it, to let the feelings pass by actually feeling them, but they became too intense. I binged on food, which didn’t help, and then tried to binge on alcohol but after one drink I felt sick. I spent most of the night lying on my bed in the fetal position unable to move.

Suicidal thoughts returned in full force. I felt like I did two weeks ago. I’m disappointed with myself for succumbing to the depression and binging.

my mom and dad and my boss

I thought I’d drop by
to see how you see the sun.

As you know, I told many people about my suicide attempt, including my parents and my boss. I’m not the closest with my parents so telling them wasn’t easy. Fortunately, when in the midst of a crisis things become easier. I called my mom while I was still high on Ativan–I barely remember the conversation, actually; I just remember her saying over and over again to stay away from alcohol–and I told my dad while I was in the urgent care facility. He took it well. I mean as well as one could, I guess–very grateful I was alive and communicating with him.

Further, I also told my boss while in the urgent care facility via text messages. I told him I wouldn’t be coming in the rest of the week because I had a “psychiatric emergency.” I should have been more specific as he seemed worried, because he tried calling many times. But I did tell him that I was okay and that I would explain everything face-to-face.

That face-to-face conversation went well. I didn’t tell him about my social anxiety but I did share with him my suicidal intentions as well as my subsequent overdose. He understands that I am a perfectionist and take a lot of what he says personally. He wants me to be more open with him when I’m feeling stressed or angry at him, rather than bottling it up–easier said than done, of course. I also told him I wanted to work more, as I need more structure, and that I enjoy the work (most of it). He’s been pressuring me to take more interest in the work, as he actually wants me to take over the business some day (not sure what he sees in me), but I told him during our conversation that I’d like to be working there for a long time but in the background. “I do not want to take over the business,” I told him. I feel a bit trapped, I guess. I’m not sure what I want to do with my life, yet this job isn’t very demanding, socially-speaking–so it’s working for me right now.

I feel really bad because my boss is probably going to lay someone off thinking that I can take over his role. Granted this person has really stopped caring about his work, but I can’t help but feel bad. He has a very difficult time communicating, even more than I do, and he must be struggling from some form of social anxiety. Then again, I think he may want to get laid off to pick up unemployment.

But do I really want to put someone out of a job for a job I’m not sure I want? I keep telling myself it’s out of my hands, but there are options; I’m just choosing the easiest one for me, which may be best considering all I’ve been through.

***

I talked to my parents yesterday after everything calmed down with me. I apologized many times for not confining in them about my problems. I will do my best to be more honest with them in the future about my depressions. (But I have my doubts about whether I will really be able to do that.)

I now feel really depressed and somewhat anxious about my relationship to my parents. I put myself out there–I mean really out there–and now I feel a lot of pressure to keep an open dialogue going with them regarding my mental issues, which is a common theme in our relationship as of late. During those calls, we  grew closer than ever before, and it scares the hell out of me. It’s as if five years of emotional bonding and connection passed before us all at once. (My dad even said he loved me, which hasn’t happened in like ten years. It was very awkward, and I must admit my “I love you” back was equally awkward. We both meant  it; it’s just we both lack an emotional connection to the other. He’s not a perfect dad, and I’m not a perfect son–that’s okay.)

What’s more, they say they understand but I don’t think they have a clue. They may have been depressed most of their lives but they address it differently. They ignore it and try to push it away while I’ve tried to address it. I don’t think they’re any closer to seeing the sun the way I see it.

***

P.S. I think my manic energy is starting to wear off. I may not post for a while, but don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Take care.

short timeline ***warning: trigger alert***

I just thought I’d summarize my recent events surrounding suicide ..

February 14th: I took too many Vicodins and ended up in the emergency room. I’m not entirely sure if I wanted to kill myself, but my normal destructive methods of dealing with pain weren’t working–so I tried to knock myself out.

May 14th: I had been planning to kill myself for months. I laid out all the pills, which I won’t mention by name as I don’t want to trigger anyone (anymore than I probably already am–sorry!), but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I drank 16 beers, and took a few sedatives while blacked out. I woke up the next day hungover but alive.

May 20th: This is the day that I had been planning to kill myself for over two months. Again, I laid out the pills, and again, I couldn’t do it.

May 24th: Not wanting to return to reality–that is, school, my job, reconnecting with friends, etc.–I purposely overdosed on sedatives. My plan was a success: I ended up in an urgent care clinic and got to avoid dealing with life for another few days.

I’m now having to pick up the pieces, rummaging through the ruins I’ve left behind. I’m back at work. I’m talking to friends. It’s hard. But I am alive.

does your mother know?

So, on the way home from therapy on Tuesday I took an overdose of Ativan. The session itself was difficult, as we discussed my recent suicide attempt and the fact that I found a new therapist and would like to start seeing him next month. I also tried to ensure my therapist that the events are mutually exclusive. ( I thought this was very important.) In other words, I’ve been contemplating a change in therapists for some time now (which is true).

Furthermore, I was dreadfully scared of having to go back to work yesterday, so instead of addressing it proactively–by either talking to my therapist or boss, trying to go on disability or something, etc.–I felt it best to OD. That will grab attention, I thought; and it sure did.

Without doing much damage I skipped the emergency room and went right to my psychiatrist’s office. He suggested I spend the night somewhere safe at a urgent care clinic, which I did (which wasn’t so bad), and then possibly go on disability leave from my job. There’s also plenty of options for low-cost inpatient care treatment here in San Francisco (we love our social services here!), so that’s an option. But to be honest, I really think I just want to switch anti-depressants–to Nardil–and go back to my normal routine.

I’m proud of myself because I told both my parents what’s been going on with me over the phone, and they were both very supportive. I also texted my boss. I haven’t given him all the details yet–I just told him I couldn’t come in because I had a psychiatric emergency. He’s provided support, and he wants me to call him–and I will as soon as I get up the courage.

I am feeling loads better. I see my psychiatrist again today to hopefully get on Nardil. I am also no longer feeling suicidal. Yay!