well there may be more, but enough is enough.
three years without steady meds for my anxiety/bpd/ and narcolepsy. been medicated with antidepressants and benzos for my teenage years through my thirties.
yes, i would run out at times, refills werent my top priority. by day 2 or 3, i’d have a false sense that i was fine sans meds and didn’t need them. i’d never make it a full week tho, due to paranoia, and withdrawals of anger/rage/sadness/etc. so i’d run back and start all over.
as years went on, the constant was always a paxil, zoloft one of the ssri or snri meds. the docs would take away my antianxiety meds due to addiction.(never been in a rehab, no medical or police records stating addictive or junkie use from me) so regardless of that argument-along with pointing out my clean tox screens, i’d still be cut off. by the same doctor i have seen on and off over a decade. i’d have to wait a month or two before she would prescribe me the benzo she knew legitimately kept me from living in my overactive mind.
ok fine, i should’ve been dandy, but she knew i lacked my baby dose of stimulant for the narcolepsy.
don’t get me wrong i understand that scripting an upper and downer seems off. tho without abusing them or eating them together, she knew as well as i do, that the spread out amoung the day, was indeed not a cure all, but it’s no where close to this.
knowing i’m going to have to sacrifice my anxiety med for whatever medicine is deemed right for my narcolepsy. i’m attending online school and the moment it’s too much or i can’t comprehend the assignment, the self loathing cunt in my mind just becomes a loop of insults. anxiety meds easily shut the negative one up, but without that the insults become a mantra, in my case a very ugly lullaby, but one none the less. then the narcolepsy takes it as cue to sleep, no matter what.
so i’ve decided that after three years since i went cold turkey off paxil (didn’t think it worked and i felt i could just overcome the withdrawal)
the first year is a blur. maybe year and a half. became more so reclusive. the same gal who was social butterfly, rather be out and around folks than home, is absolutely in doubt. doubt/embaraasment/shame. fear illogical things. know every worse case scenario before a story is even completely over.
i had worked starting at 15, all through high school. yea not mind blowing jobs but i worked for a living. always. well not in the last three and a half years.
i need to not feel like this. i want to help my bf monetarily, even a pittance would at least make me feel useful. he’s amazing, aware my mental illness isn’t by choice, working or not we will make it by.
he’s a disabled veteran and we both sufffer mental illness with ptsd…completely different traumas but both ill. he’s medicated. tho ppl like us has been studied and proven it is hard to “adult”. imaginary world of “all will work out”
- it’s not. he’s amazing, but he isn’t seeing how him and i ration weekly food, so my son won’t be without on his weekend visits.
- two adults very much in love, unfortunately both suffering mental illness
this is such a terribly hard decision. i know my life of social anxiety/fear and loathing of all/& isn’t going to be perfect. it never was.,
firstly, those meds have to build back into the system.
second-takes sometimes months of messing with milligrams or even trying other similar options. meanwhile , doc is 6 weeks apart. Six weeks after initial visit for them to feel ok prescribing the additional med(antianxiety or stimulant)i take my headshriners diagnosis transcripts and meds scripted)
so no quick fix. not a promise, possibly quite not even a possibility, that i’ll be the hel i always hated on, tho i could speak on the phone. for hours,in my thirties to my childhood bff. even when i had wronged her in the foulest of forms, she had my kids back. then in my reclusiveness i just let her go. selfish? yes. but it’s all consuming. i’m not proud. i’ve shed so many tears from missing her. i could easily rectify with a call. my embarassment of not having that control is a shameful weakness. also little/no contact to my blood family, just my kiddos. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i don’t see making it much further, like this. yea yea yea, common “DOOMSDAY THEORY from trauma” tho that’s not an option: i won’t fuk up my kids with that.
this is where my decision to return to slave of big pharma. for as much as i hate what antidepressants & such did to my head. not once was i ever told that damage is done, insane withdrawal period, not allowing me to live without its chemicals. tho back in the 90s docs fed you meds and patients trusted them.
I NEED THIS TO BE THE SOLUTION-The med i have adamantly fought for fouling me up for stopping it was working: i got out, worked, helped my mom, had my kids living with me, tended house, wasn’t such a chump. scared of nothing yet feel fear , indeed real. yes i still had paranoia and anxiety attacks. the me in my mind still hated me, but not constant. i feel this HAS to be my solution.
sorry for rambling.
it’s just an intense decision. what ifs with my beloved. he fell in love with this gal who never stops talking. a homebody. noncustody of my kids. but that’s untrue. i haven’t been mentally fit for full time 7 year old. though the fact he lives with his father and not me, is absolute torture.
the fear that this may cause issue with my boyfriend, is a great concern. when one person has to “adult” it has a chance of escalating. i love this man ever so much. yes he’s a reason i need to get right. to help, to be here, in the now. i need to believe he will understand
ill end it with a dark, yet inspirational quote from nine inch nails, trent reznor:
“i used to be so big & strong, i used to know my right from wrong…i used to never be afraid..i used to be somebody…“