Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Slow to move

Tomorrow I have to pick out a psychiatrist and start the slow process of playing with my medication. I think I'm wishing for something that doesn't exist, a pill to help me with depression that doesn't make me numb with a lot of side effects. Ideally I'd like not to take a pill or any medication at all AND avoid therapy. I don't think that's going to happen, I'm convinced there is something screwed up in my body chemistry that requires help to get me in balance but there is a pull between being "normal" and feeling as though I am able to live and enjoy life on an emotional level.

I really can't stress how badly I want to be off of Celexa. Despite the success I have achieved with it I truly believe it has led to other problems in my life, namely the addiction and abuse of the painkiller hydrocodone. specifically Norco. Don't get me wrong, I still accept full responsibility for that but one of the side effects of Celexa is apathy and emotional flattening, which is what I talked about in my last entry. It's hard to recall what I was thinking while under the influence of the medication, but I wouldn't be surprised if, subconsciously at the minimum, I was attracted to the release of the hydrocodone and the euphoria that made me feel, something, instead of my usual wraith-like existence.

I have the will to live, I just want to feel the benefits of it again. Living an analytical existence is a half-life at best.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

It's time to let the damn break

If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.

I've put off making posts of any kind here and on other blogs because I lack any feelings strong enough to right about them. The medications that I am on keep me insulated from the world and I find my public displays of happiness, joy, and even excitement and truly just myself going through the motions for the sake of others. I'm acting like me, or more specifically how I am supposed to be.

It doesn't matter what the event or situation is, its not personal, I just struggle through it. But the worst part is when I am left to my own and I realize I don't have any more feelings. I should explain that they are there, but they are just buried so deeply that they are almost an enormous task to access. The only exception being the joy and love my children bring out in me. But every other feeling or care it gone as I were sitting on a chair in a large empty room all alone..

Now, I don't really talk to anyone about this, or try to let on, but I am sure it manifests in some awkward aloofness. Even when we are gathered together for functions or a relaxed get together, trying to remember the appropriate times to laugh, act interested, ask further questions, or display the proper emotion to go along with the conversation or action based on how I am supposed to do so. It's funny that I do not believe people know how difficulty I am having over a simple conversation around "How bout dem Bears, huh?" These get togethers are so hard on me that I am ready to go 2 second before if starts. Don't get me wrong they're almost always wonderful situations but let me let people here in on a little secret that will probably do myself so good by finally letting it out even here. and is that these situations, which force so much confusion consistent low levels of terror and nervousness, end with me waiting to be alone at night sobbing to sleep because I feel broken. I've never even told this Meva for fear of rejection and not wanting to worry her further.

My reluctance to discuss this with Meva centers around what I feel/know if the cause of this, and that is my daily medication for depression Celexa, I think we would both argue that our lives have become less chaotic and more manageable since I have started taking it. But the truth is that I don't feel any more and I can't access my creativity and write like I used to. It makes me feel like such an enormous failure and that is slowly killing me.

To this end, I decided to stop taking the Celexa because I so desperately need to know I am alive, but after just a few days and not chance of seeing any symptoms I had to return to taking it, until I can get to a shrink and talk with him about what to do.

My asshole sister Traci has resurfaced again, wanting to borrow money so that she can make her way via bus to just show up at my other sister's house in Arizona. Teri's health is not good, and despite being told repeatedly not to come down there, Traci's plan is to do just that. This always stresses me out, so the last thing I need to do is be off my meds during this.