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Well, for those of you playing along at home, you may have picked up on "Quitter" that I wasn't only referring to Camp Fire Girls and Job's Daughters but about my life. Raise a hand if you caught the barely veiled references to suicide. Anyone?

If you don't know it yet, I brought that bit of prose to my therapist and, on her very strong urging, I checked myself into a psychiatric hospital for Thanksgiving. 

I was in there for a week. The first two days I spent most of my time in my room. I came out to the Day Room for meals and meds, I was examined by a physician, and I went to a couple of group sessions. While the group sessions were fine, they were nothing earth-shaking. The meds were supposed to be what I brought, but the pharmacy apparently would rather bend me over provide me with their meds rather than use what I brought and somehow everything got messed up and I was off my two primary meds for three days, and off one of them for another two after that! So I was experiencing weird withdrawal symptoms as well as being in a strange place both spatially and mentally. 

Value-Added Sleep

Sleep is good for you — we all know that. People have different needs for sleep and vastly varying sleep schedules.  Some folks nap and some don't.

And some of us sleep away the majority of a day without planning to do so. Today I felt immensely tired at 1:30, so I set my alarm for 3:00 (2 alarms, actually). I don't remember turning them off. I woke up just before 7pm, just before another alarm went off. 

I certainly didn't accomplish anything to day. Nor did I work up an appetite. I had a piece of buttered toast and two popsicles for dinner. And didn't get to the store for milk and berries.

I don't take regular naps. If I lay down, I'm going to sleep for at least an hour, usually two. If I sleep longer, well there's a reason. The reason right now is most likely being worn out from severe anxiety, and/or avoiding my life. There isn't much I can do right now about significant aspects of my life, so sleeping through some of it makes a certain emotional sense, if nothing else. Certainly it doesn't help my life. But I don't have the ability to help my life significantly right now, which is just not at all a nice place to be. Thus the sleep.

I'm up to taking an entire milligram of Ativan 3 times a day. It helps me reduce the anxiety (I don't grind my teeth and my shoulders can actually drop down away from my ears), but it also makes me sleepy at that level. I might try for 3/4 of a mg. Half just isn't doing it right now.

I'm half looking forward to working on the pre-sale work next week and the following. If I get involved and focused enough, I can refrain from thinking about all the crap that is making me so crazy and fearful. I can't do anything about any of it, so I might as well avoid it by doing something else.

But I need to stop sleeping during the day.  It really doesn't allow me to do things that will decrease my anxiety. Doing activities to avoid anxiety (even unconsciously), which raises it. Really effective.

The Depression, She Returns

I guess it was the quietude before the sinkhole. I know recovery is not linear — I've said it often enough to myself, my therapist, on this blog. But it's still a shock when it happens. Even though I met a person in business who could be a great help to me, and who I could be a great help to, I feel overwhelmed and sad and in a hole. My laughter has disappeared again, and my smiles are small and variable. It's depression and it sucks.

Hell, even with an amazing thunderstorm, I didn't get too excited.

The sleepiness came upon me (I should have had more to eat for lunch, but I thought I'd be going out again) and I gave in, set the alarm for 45 minutes (I really need to set a more boisterous alarm), and woke about an hour and a half later when the phone rang. It was The Man and we had a decent time of talking, both of us sleepy. He can't go to the Dog Show with me because he has worked too hard again and had too little sleep this week, so he'll be welcoming his son home and sleeping. After having him for long lunches both days last weekend, I know better than to expect him again this weekend, but still it makes me a little sad. After we talked I lay back on the couch to just relax a bit before getting up, then spent the next four hours drowsing off and on ... until 9 pm. That's extreme even for me. I had dreams, but I don't remember them.

I still believe I will end up together with The Man. It doesn't feel like a desperate wish, just a calm sureness. I generally know when I'm fooling myself; if I am in this instance then I've become much, much better at it!

And now it's another weekend, which will be quiet and solitary. I should walk; my legs hurt from inaction and I'm doing myself damage by being so immobile. I should work on the house — I have some energy right now. The flesh is willing but the spirit is weak. Not quite the usual thing.

A good weekend to start a little yoga, a little meditation (probably walking for me, otherwise I tend to drift off). And there's nothing wrong with doing some work on my professional presence on the weekend; it's not like I've been doing any during the week.

If the depression lifts. It's a heavy thing and sometimes holds me down like a large boulder that has smashed me flat on the ground. And I've no one to help roll it off of me.

When the depression hits, so does my loneliness, my sadness, and I suppose my self-pity. Poor, poor me. Such a sad sack with such an awful life. Sniff, sniff.

So finally another post. And it's pathetic.

Not Quite Succeeding

Well, I tried. This week, in addition to the regular therapy homework, I had my new behavioral homework, just a few tasks. And as simple and small were the challenges, it's going to take more than a week for me to incorporate everything successfully and routinely.

Therapy homework
Nope. Didn't even think of it until about an hour ago and a couple of hours before I go to sleep is not the best time.

Behavioral work

1. Take a shower and get dressed every day, preferably before noon.
   I showered every other day. I got dressed every day, although sometimes in lounge-around-the-house clothes. About half the time I managed this before noon. Lesson: Don't read more than one blog before beginning after-breakfast routine.
2. Eat three meals a day, plus a piece of fruit and/or a vegetable every day.
   Didn't manage the three meals at all. I still mess up the hours in my day. Started out okay with the fruit, but then let the rest of the fruit and some of the berries go bad. Managed that a third of the week. No vegies at all. Lesson: Create alarms to make me aware of meal times. Prepare vegies right after I bring them home. Be more vigilant and eat the fruit or vegie first.
3. Leave the apartment every day. Pick up my mail every day. Preferably mesh the two and walk to the mailbox every day to incorporate some body movement.
   Only one day did I manage the mesh. I think there were only two days when I didn't go out, thus two days (or maybe three) when I didn't pick up my mail. And the walk plus mail day was my only walk day. Lesson: Create a schedule for the week requiring me to leave. Walk the walking trail at the complex at least twice a week — maybe set an alarm for it. Pick up the mail when I return from my going out. Without an external reason, I just don't go. Still too inert.

I'm also still not getting to bed early. I haven't been to bed before 12 this week, and I hit 2-ish at least once, which makes me get up later. And I generally turn off my alarm and continue sleeping. I need to push myself (which I'm not yet succeeding at) to go to bed earlier, and I need to put my alarm across the room so I have to get up (the alarm doesn't stop until I physically turn it off, so this could work).

I also am finding I still need a Red Bull each day to help me stay awake. I had one all week and did fine. I didn't have one today and around two thirty was so tired I lay down. The alarm on my Mac woke me up just enough to turn it off. I went back to sleep until 6:30. Four hours. I wish I could simply take a nap for 30 minutes, rather than sleep through the afternoon. It cost me time on a project, pushing me even later.

So I had a couple of very small successes this week, plus I got some ideas about what might work for this coming week. I've been solidly this inert for months, so changing may take longer than I expected. Unfortunately, because I'm very tired of it. Plus, I'm not making any money, which puts me closer and closer to running out.

It doesn't seem fair, after all I've been through, to have to deal with all this, and alone. I know Life isn't fair, but I wish it would help me a bit. If I have to do it all myself, I just might end up living in my car. (Sorry, Julie.)

Nap Attack

I was attacked by a nap today. It kept me under for 3 hours. Same happened yesterday. These damned naps take a huge toll on my productivity.

Just don't go to sleep? Have you seen a cat, or maybe a kitten, experience a nap attack? Suddenly their eyes get sleepy, their head wobbles, they try to stay awake, and then they fall asleep in some weird position, like half out of their bed or upside-down in a chair. Well that's what my nap attacks are like. The only thing is I manage to put things off my lap and somewhere safe before I fall over asleep. And I don't sleep upside-down.

These are a bit different from the zombie-sleeping I experienced when I was on the evil Haldol: with these last two nap attacks, I felt very sleepy but not like I wouldn't be able to do a couple of things before I slept. I had the chance to use the restroom, get comfy on the couch, and set an alarm. (Which did no good because after an hour, I turned it off and went back to sleep.) The zombie-sleep attacks hit me like a freight train and I had to put things down immediately because I was going unconscious Right Now. It is possible that I'm still suffering effects from Haldol as it leaves my system; I'm very sensitive to medications and they seem to take forever to clear out of my body.

Still, I don't think I should be napping like this. Let's see, yesterday I had therapy, took a walk, and grocery shopped. I had to ice my heels due to the fact that my feet are still weak and stiff from sitting and lying about. Today I had a massage that worked some very severe knots. I iced those previously knotted areas. However, I don't think the ice had anything to do with my naps.

I couldn't tell you if I'm getting good sleep, but I am not going to bed at a good time, so I'm getting around 6 hours of sleep. Tonight I should get 7 — woo hoo! — and going to bed much earlier, both of which should offer me benefits.

Yes, I need to see a doctor, just to make sure I'm okay. But I haven't written the letter to my health insurance stating why they need to reinstate me, so I don't have health insurance right now and I don't like the idea of paying the huge amount I'll need to pay. As it is, I may need to buy several meds at full price if I don't get this insurance thing handled soon. You'd think this would motivate me to write the letter (and I've had over a week, almost two, that I've known to write it). 

Right now, all that seems to motivate me are naps. And I'm just not enjoying them as much as I used to.

Benched

Couched is more like it. Today was a day that I spent on the couch. My long list of things to do sat there on the screen looking oh so lonely. I saw it. And I imagined doing the things on it, but that didn't happen.

But I couldn't get up. No shower today. Lunch was a couple of sticks of string cheese. I hope dinner will be healthier: I have PB for a boring sandwich, and I have salad stuff for a very good salad.

I even had a fall-unconscious moment. It wasn't as bad as it was when I was fully on the Haldol, but it was strong enough for me to shut the computer and make myself comfortable on the couch. Then I was out. Only two hours, this time. It has been worse. But naps like this don't leave me refreshed and ready to do stuff. They leave me lethargic and thinking of more naps. I even had two energy drinks before this nap and they had ZERO affect, obviously.

I don't know what the half-life of Haldol is, how long it will take for it to entirely leave my body. And my body is sensitive to drugs, so it could take a while longer than the professionals would say anyway. I just want it gone so I can stop having half a life. I need a lot more time and energy if I'm going to do what I need — and what i want — to do.

Is there like a spell to "dispell" the need for nap-comas?  :)

Deep thoughts #2 --- Going ... up?

Do you ever find, after having been terribly sick or terribly down for a long time, that you resist feeling or seeming or accepting being better?

For example, I have bitten my nails most of my life and over the past decade and a half have managed to slowly make time periods between biting them longer and longer. Then last summer, when the troubles began to get worse, I began biting my nails again. I bit all of them, at some point, to the point of pain. 

A friend recently pointed out how they are growing again. "No they aren't," I said, pointing to the shortest one. "I bit this off just recently." "Yes," she said, "but I see white on all of them."

I wanted to argue with her. I'm not letting my nails grow. I'm still biting them because I'm Not Better Yet! I'm not getting better!

Why? Why would I resist any sign that I may be rising from the Abyss? Why would I want to continue to be or appear to be suffering or ill or unbelievably depressed?

Maybe I'm afraid that if I seem to be getting better, then no one will have patience with me if I'm not completely better — Now! — and all the time hereafter. Or maybe they'll think I was malingering: how long do you have to be in a Bad Place or State before you have legitimacy?

Or maybe I'm afraid I'm doing a disservice to my mom's memory by getting better now. Or maybe to myself in some odd way: if I'm well now, was I really that down and unreachable or was it really just ... all in my mind. Nerves. All those things that say I'm just a hypochondriac or just trying to get attention. Or maybe that I'm actually crazy. But something.

I have honestly turned the corner and I want to live now. That's an amazement in itself.

I'm still not doing my homework regularly, but I believe that my sleeping sickness over my vacation trumps that. Once I have the sleepiness under control and am feeling more me-normal again, the new "better-ness" will be more perceptible.

I'm going to show it off. Let others make their own judgments. I've been down to the Abyss yet again — my third time? my fourth or fifth? — and I beat it yet again. How many others can say that?

Tidal effects, perhaps

I had thought that, being away from my every day for two weeks, I would be able to write. Write the blogs, write my therapy homework ....

I was mistaken. Instead, I have had friends stay overnight, which has been great. I've had a few just-for-an-hour visitors. When I've had no visitors, I've slept. And slept. And slept. One day, I got up at 1pm (bedtime by about 10), ate, went back to sleep at 2, up at 4, drifted off for most of the next 5 hours, up at 9, in bed by 11:30. Slept great. If nothing is demanding my attention, and sometimes even it if is, I want a nap and I want it NOW. I'm taking a drive inland a bit in a couple of days and I'm going to have to buy some energy drinks just to make the trip both ways!

Even being physically uncomfortable doesn't keep me awake: it makes me want to sleep. I am sometimes peaceful and comfortable and sometimes quite twitchy and uncomfortable. But I always want to sleep.

Maybe I need to sleep a lot to make up for all that grieving. I don't know. I guess I'll just ask my therapist.

Hey! It's 9 o'clock! It's almost bedtime again! Yay!

Running in place

I haven't been so good at keeping up with the myriad details of my everyday life. I doubt this is a surprise to anyone. Bills, picking up, cleaning, phone calls, record-keeping, even getting together with friends — all of this has been difficult if not impossible for me in the past months.

I've even found it difficult to keep up with my therapy homework. Three hours ago, I started my homework for tomorrow ... and then spent two hours on the phone with one of my best friends. Talking with my friend was terrific; we haven't talked in a few weeks. But now it's after 10 pm and I should finish things up and go to bed.

.... Who the hell am I kidding? I haven't gone to bed before 2:30 in months. Often I'm up until 4 am (Hey Julie! ::waves::). Unfortunately I don't spend my time doing anything useful in any way.

My sleep schedule became completely fucked up in 2007, after my cat died. In the aftermath of the death of my companion of over a decade, I realized how much more she was to me than simply one of my most-loved companions. She was also my security system. If I woke in the night —a not-unusual occurrence — I'd automatically look to her. If she was asleep, or simply looking back at me as if wondering why I weren't asleep as I should be, I could lay my head back on my pillow and drop off easily. But if she were looking about alertly, then I had to get up and walk the house. Once I thought I saw someone in the back yard and I called the police. Several other times it was deer in the back yard; it is quite disturbing to carefully pull a curtain aside to look out ... and see a long deer face looking back at you! I was definitely the more startled.

After my furry security system died, I routinely woke in a drenching sweat from dreams of gangs of intruders hunting me down in my home. The sleeping pills my doctor gave me made the nightmares worse, so I quit them and began staying up later and later. To occupy myself during the late hours, I built a highly detailed imaginary life and I whiled away the hours between 9 pm and 3 am with this life, with listening to Vonda Shepards "Maryland,"and with watching the moon wash across my bed and the floor in the next room. It was pleasant.

Now I have no place that is washed by the moon and my heart is once more broken, even worse than before. I don't currently have anything to look forward to in the morning, or in the moment after that, or the moment after that, so I stay up, surfing the same sites over and over, and running in place in the hope that the next moment doesn't come any sooner.

Drugs

My medications are not doing me much good right now. I started Abilify on Friday to give me that extra kick, but I think the only kick I got was in the face. I feel like hell: jittery, mood up then down, a slight tremor in my hand, slightly dilated eyes, and exhaustion and sleepiness. I took a four-hour nap yesterday and a four and a half hour nap today. I only napped because i suddenly Could. Not. Stay. Awake. Even when I'm not ready for a nap I just feel off.

In addition, my typing skills have deteriorated to the extent that I might do better using the two-finger method. My spelling skills are likewise effected.

I left a couple of messages for my psychiatrist but received no calls back (one email to the front desk, one voicemail to the front desk). So I called my pharmacist. She was great. She asked about what each drug was being used for and how long I'd been on it, dosages, etc. and decided I should go off the Abilify. The Pristiq may be causing the jitteriness, but possibly the Abilify is increasing that. And the dilated eyes have her stumped, the way they stumped everyone last year when my previous psychiatrist was trying to find something to handle my anxiety and social anxiety. Dilated eyes is not a typical side effect of any of my drugs, singly or in combination. It might be time to find my old MRIs to compare to the new MRI that's probably coming. Why? Well in addition to the dilated eyes, one eye is dilated more than the other.

I will call my psych again tomorrow morning. I also have to take my car in for a few things. Maybe I'll get lucky and get to talk about mental health and medication issues in the sitting room of my mechanics!

This is all the post I can manage tonight.

Good night.