No More Promises

Yeah. Remember when I said I would be doing a bunch of posts for Suicide Awareness Month? That totally didn't happen. I triggered myself. Brain fried. Writing didn't happen.

Well, now it is October and there was still a bunch of stuff I was going to write about. But I'm not making promises any more. They just stress me out. I lived so much of my life writing under a deadline that I think I have at least some degree of PTSD when I sit down and know I HAVE to have this thing written by a certain date. I just can't do it. At least not yet.

So, this won't  be anything deep or insightful, but a general update.

I am doing OK. I think. It is really hard to tell, to be honest. I have in general had more energy since the CellCept really kicked in. But I don't know what to do with it. I have had days when I really run with it and I end up really overdoing it. And it has messed up any sort of schedule or routine that I had, which stresses me out. I mean, if I usually don't get up until 11:30 or 12:00, what do I do with myself if I wake up at 9:00? I have more energy, but not that much. It's not like I can spend the extra time cleaning the garage or pulling weeds.

And although I have more energy, I seem to be more brain dead. I find myself messing up simple tasks like making coffee and I am getting a LOT of exercise wandering around the house trying to remember what I was doing. I just honestly don't know what to do with myself.

And to make matters worse, I have had a LOT of alone time. My mom had ankle replacement surgery and has been in a rehab center for the past 4 weeks. I don't do well with a lot of alone time; my brain likes to run away with itself. I don't know how many panic attacks I'm narrowly avoided. And my poor dad comes home from work and I start talking non-stop because I have been alone all day.

And now I am panicking because my mom comes home tomorrow and now I won't be alone and I don't know how mobile she'll be and she has been alone a lot, too, and will want to talk and talk and talk and I don't know if I can do that with my brain being mush.

I need my routine back. It makes me feel safe. But I also like feeling better. I feel more productive and like I'm getting better. But I don't trust it - experience has taught me that I always end up crashing again. I keep trying to establish a new routine, but my energy levels are varying too much from day to day. For instance, yesterday and today have been awful because a cold front went through and my arthritis is flaring up bad. I also had doctors' appointments both days so my stress is up. Everything just keeps fluctuating all over and it's freaking me out.

So ... status report. Doing better. I think. Too much time alone. Freaking out over not having enough time alone. Routine screwed to hell. My hands hurt. I'm tired. I want to clean my room all in one day. THE ROLLER COASTER IS GOING ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE.

Yeah, that's about it.

Crash Day

I have had a streak of good days. I have had energy. I have been able to think straight. I got some projects done and did yoga 4 days in a row. It was wonderful.

The only downside was that nagging knowledge that it wouldn't last. Good days are wonderful, but they are always followed by a crash.

This morning I thought I was still riding the good wave. I got up a bit before 10 and thought maybe I would head to the grocery store after my morning coffee kicked in. I did my usual morning things, had breakfast - and crashed. It is what I call a failure to launch. Even with the coffee there is a bone-deep exhaustion that I just can't kick.

I ended up going back to bed after breakfast and slept 3 more hours. I had some more coffee and felt a bit better. The nagging pain in my ribs and back were fading (If I do my yoga stretching too many days in a row it triggers my costochondritis) and I felt a little more awake. I played games for a bit and had lunch - and crashed. My arthritis would not fade. It is still doing it now, that deep, severe ache that doesn't move or change whether I'm moving or lying down. I tried to walk it off, but my ankles were full of grating sand and the pain just wouldn't go down. I had to take extra pain meds and then I ended up taking a nap for another two hours.

I got up in time to make dinner on schedule. I ate, crashed in front of the TV (I couldn't focus well enough to read) and fought the desire to go back to bed. I am still fighting it, and my joints are still hurting and I am trying hard to keep the physical crash from turning into a mental one as well.

I guess I can take hope from the fact that I had several good days before the crash instead of the usual one or two. I can hope that it means I am improving. Only time - and a bunch of sleep - will tell.

I'm Not Getting Better

Published to Tumblr February 10, 2016

September 26, 2012. That was the day I finally couldn’t take any more. I left work in the middle of the day and never went back. The straw that broke the camel’s back had actually fallen months before, but being the stubborn Taurus I am I kept crawling forward. Then I just couldn’t any more. I had more than a broken back, I was completely shattered. 

I started seeing my psychiatrist very soon after that. It was a good thing, too, because I was suicidal, delusional, stressed, and basically a hot mess. I was very lucky in that the psychiatrist most qualified to handle my combination of mental illnesses donated his time to the Doctor’s Volunteer Clinic. Since I had no insurance - and it took 2 ½ years for my disability claim to go through and for my Medicare to kick in - this was the only way I could see anyone. After about 6 months I started seeing my therapist, Shannon. She is wonderful and she has helped me through a lot. 

In the past 3 /12 years, I have seen my psychiatrist about once a month and my therapist every other week. I have been hospitalized twice, once for a psychotic break and once because I was suicidal. We have tried different medications and different therapies and coping strategies. I finally found a regular doctor who understands and knows how to handle my physical illnesses, which are chronic and painful. Looking at the numbers, I should be doing great. I should be well on my way to recovery. 

But I’m not. I have days, even weeks, where I feel like I’m doing great. Then something happens and the delusions flood back or I start getting anxious at every little thing. I look back and the good days were pretty much days where I had nothing to stress me. If I push myself - like last week I tried driving several miles on a busy street and having coffee at a coffee shop to test my social anxiety - I will feel OK at the time, but the next day I will be a total mess again. 

Yesterday drove home to me just how far I have to come. It was my Dad’s first day back at work after the winter break and my Mom had a doctor’s appointment. She can’t drive, so I had to take her. This is nothing new, nothing I haven’t done before, but it always causes me stress. Yesterday I got her in the car, got her to the doctor’s office, then I sat down in the waiting room and had an anxiety attack. I was panting and dizzy when she came out and trying to direct her to the car didn’t help one bit. She kept listing to the side and almost falling, and me with my cane almost went to the ground with her. I had to sit in the car for several minutes just breathing before I drove us home. Once I finally got the anxiety calmed down, I had the depression hit harder than it has in quite a while. I ended up just curled up in bed crying. 

This is just the beginning of the long months of my Dad working. I am expected to be the adult, and although I thought I had recovered enough to do that, obviously I still can’t. I don’t know what to do. My brain is a mess, I’m hallucinating, and my knees hurt. I have to be able to do this, but I don’t know how.