Losing a Whole Year

I don't want to write this blog. I have this weird desire to be painfully candid and for some reason - I feel like I should be keeping these thoughts to myself. These words, these feelings, these thoughts that I'm about to share. I feel shame for feeling the way I do, even though I shouldn't. That is the warped perception of a depressed person. 

A year ago today was my last day at my job. The original plan was to take a month or two off for a break; then find another job. I was excited about the break, and the opportunity to start somewhere fresh and new. My plan for my break was to do projects around the house, run, skate, and enjoy the time off. Well, we all know how well that worked out for me. About the time I started my job hunt is when my health completely fell apart. So I have been out of work for an entire year. 

I'm at almost 6 weeks on hormone pellets. I added a patch then took it off after about a week because of the side effects that made me want to get off of it in the first place. On Memorial day I had a pretty good day. I felt really good emotionally, even though physically I felt like road kill. I'm not sure what I did, or if I ate something bad or what - but that night I had a bitch of a panic attack. It was one of those ones that just kept rolling over me in waves and I felt like I was drowning. I took Xanax, but the panic broke through it, wave after wave. The sensation was intense, I felt like I was dying, I couldn't breathe. My husband wanted to take me to the ER, but for what? I knew what was happening. My rational brain was all over it. But the primal reaction and haywire chemicals were in full control. I took more Xanax. Eventually it knocked me out, but even as I drifted off to sleep I could still feel the ebb and flow of that frantic ocean, tearing at the fragile threads of my sanity. 

I've been having issues ever since. It starts with a hot ping in the middle of my chest and suddenly my heart is racing and I'm gasping for breath. It's exhausting. I don't understand why it's happening again. I am so tired that I can't even try to puzzle it out. The slightest exertion sets it off - so I'm spending a lot of time trying to be quiet and still. Trying to cower and hide from whatever it is that is broken inside of me.

It's no wonder I'm depressed. I haven't been depressed like this in many, many years. It's the kind where I feel like a burden to the people around me, a lump of flesh that breathes and eats and just sits there - completely useless. I feel like I've been given up on; by my friends, my family, my doctors. I feel like my existence is pointless. Meaningless. Like I have nothing to offer this world. (Warped perceptions of a depressed person, please understand - we see the world differently. We see it as a place we no longer belong.) 

So I'm stuck in a loop. I know exposure therapy (like driving) is important to regain control, but that requires a great deal of focus and energy. I have neither. I don't know how to fix what is broken in me, and I'm losing the battle. Do I need more hormones? Less? Change something else in my stupid diet? Take some other supplement? Get acupuncture? What is the answer?? I've pretty much accepted that I'll never be the same again, but I still hope to regain some semblance of a quality of life- but when? And more importantly, how?

I know a few folks read my blogs, and I appreciate that. No one wants to read stuff like this. I hate writing it, but it is therapeutic for me. Maybe someone who feels the way I do will stumble upon it and not feel so alone. I don't like how some people respond to me though, telling me placating things or downplaying what I feel. It's like walking up to someone with a really bad sunburn and slapping them on the back and telling them to suck it up. I am hanging on. I am finding things in each day to keep me strong. I live moment to moment sometimes, especially when the anxiety is ripping me to shreds; but I'm holding on.

Monday I go in for blood work. Hormone levels, vitamin levels, etc. See if anything is off. I also started back on the Prozac today, and fuck anyone who tries to make me feel like I'm weak for doing that. I started having really bad discontinuation symptoms; I had no idea that Prozac takes about a month to be fully out of your system; and no matter how low your dose was or how short a time you took it - you can still have discontinuation symptoms. This flare up of anxiety hit me right about the one month point of quitting the Prozac. Could be coincidence. Could be I was stupid to just quit taking it and this is what happens. I don't know. I just know I've lost a year already, with no end in sight. 

In August of 1984, I attempted suicide. I took a bunch of pills, I don't even remember what all I took. I laid down to go to sleep and drifted off. I had a weird dream. I felt like a hand yanked me out of sleep and suddenly I panicked. I made myself throw up the pills. I still got really, really sick - I was sick for a good 2 weeks. I've had tinnitus ever since; because some of the pills I took were aspirin. I didn't tell my parents, I probably should have gone to the hospital. But ever since that attempt, I have had several points in my life - like now - where I didn't want to be here anymore. But something made me decide to stick around. I can't let that have been in vain.