So I slept the day away again. All I’m doing is eating and sleeping. My boys made me breakfast. Then we watched a movie and I fell asleep. I’ve been isolating with my headphones on. It drowns out the noise. I want to be done with this, no more meds, no therapy, all of it I feel done. I want to cry but I can’t. Sorry this post is such a downer.
So I figured out how zyprexa works you’re too tired, hungry, and thirsty to pay attention to your craziness. I slept most of the day. When I was awake I was eating and drinking. It’s becoming harder and harder to realize everyone doesn’t hate me. I spent my waking hours drowning thoughts and voices out with music. I’m getting closer and closer to hurting myself. I have to keep reminding myself my meds aren’t working yet.
I feel bad for not telling my therapist what was / is going on but I really think if I’m truly honest I’d get shipped to the hospital or at the very least Intensive Outpatient program / partial hospitalization. I can tell her on Tuesday. I’m kinda torn with Intensive Outpatient I may need the extra help while my husband is gone but that requires me to trust the driver, sit close to others, and talking to others just won’t happen for me. My thoughts are all jumbled so good night guys.
So my temp dr. needs a prior authorization for me to get a higher dose of my mood stablizer. So I tried to get it filled both yesterday and today. The dr still hasn’t returned their call. The pharmacist came up with the idea that I fill the lower dose and take 2 of those until my dr gets the authorization. So now I have enough meds to cover me while my husband is gone. So I took both meds tonight.
So my day was spent at an open house for one of the homeschool groups my husband teaches at and my son attends. I hate, HATE large groups of people. I spent most of my time on the phone pretending I didn’t exist. Socializing scares me. Physically I shake when talking to people when there’s not a purpose. Then there were kids not behaving and their parents nowhere to be seen, a major pet peeve of mine. My husband’s issues got in the way of sitting in the auditorium so I missed my son’s show. He only said 3 lines but still it would have meant a lot if we went in.
I’m not as stressed about the stop light cameras watching me as much as wanting to hurt myself. All the sharp objects are still up from my mixed episode. I came home after and cooked lunch. Then I laid down with my husband for a little while he passed out. We went to pick up my meds and to the store. I did surprisingly well at the store, no melt downs at all. We had hotdogs and nachos with cheese for dinner. I’m now writing before going to bed. I’m sorry again that I took such a long break.
So I’m still unwell. I did really well on the shot until insurance decided to take it away. So I had a month or so of stability which is cruel because I know what it’s like not to feel like everyone hates you, you’re being talked about, street cameras are following you and someone is always behind you. You know who’s not hated dead people. My skin feels too tight, I want to cut it off, I want to break my wrist because of the warm radiating feeling and somehow I’m making my husband a liar, he hates liars. He wouldn’t be a liar if I was dead. See my mind wants me dead.
So anyway in the midst of all this my psychiatrist takes a leave of absence. So I’m stuck with a temporary psychiatrist that doesn’t return calls. So I give up after two and a half weeks of calling with no injection I start taking my abilify pills. In my mind risking an overdose. Between this time I see my therapist and tell her almost nothing that is going on. She seems squishy and I don’t want to scare her away or worse get hospitalized. So I told her it feels like someone’s behind me all the time. When I finally see the psychiatrist I ask to change to the dissolvable Zyprexa. Yes this anorexic is so freaked out by my thoughts that I’m willing to take a massive weight gainer. So all this happened yesterday. Last night my husband tells me he doesn’t want me on Zyprexa because I take weight gain so badly I might “do something”.
While all this is going on my husband find out he has to go on a trip in a couple of days leaving me with my son for 10 days. So I have one more meeting with my therapist and all the fun things that go with starting a new med and discontinuing an old ones. I have to be completely honest with her if Zyprexa doesn’t work.
So I missed two days of writing but I took my meds those 2 days. I’ve had a good day. My son passed his entrance exam and decided to take classes this summer. That’s wonderful but I have to come up with $250 for books by May. As for me I’ve been good. I talked to my sisters. I’m starting to level out I think.
Today I’m a big fuck up. I didn’t get out of bed until 3 pm. My house is a mess. I shouldn’t have had a child. How I’m married I don’t know. I spent the day apologizing for mistakes. The good thing is I helped cook breakfast without a meltdown and I showered. My parents came over. My mom suggested a cleaning party before section 8 comes. I had my husband put up all the razors, box cutters and exact-o knives. That way the only object I have to avoid is real knives.
No more abilify tablets. My mom was able to give me my abilify shot tonight so for another 4 weeks I don’t have to take the pill. First she took me to dinner and beauty and the beast. Then she gave me the shot. It was so sweet. She was about to cry doing it because she didn’t want it to hurt me. That was at night.
Earlier in the morning we saw my husband’s therapist. He told her I tried to cut. She treated it very respectfully. Asked why he was put in charge of me taking my medication properly. We didn’t tell her I’m a suicide risk. It’s something I’m sure will come up later. I still want to hurt myself but only for a little today. I wasn’t paranoid going to the bathroom at the theater. I’m still isolating and using the headphones to block out noise that is aggravating. I’m slowing down. I don’t think I’m in episode anymore but still getting mood whiplash.
So this morning I got my choice of sitting with 9 kids or 8 teenagers for 15 min at co-op. I took on the teens. It’s really, really hard to talk to people when they’re staring at you. I know they were just listening but it’s so nerve wracking. I wanted to tell them to stop looking at me but I couldn’t. My son was sick so he didn’t go to co-op.
After we attempted to go grocery shopping but there were too many people/cars there. We went home checked on the kid and dog. I was so tired because of the stress of watching the kids I laid down but my mind wouldn’t calm down about all the things I have to do for my assistance review. So we went to michael’s because their canvas was 85% off. My husband got a 36×48 canvas for under $13 and I got a tile to paint on for $1.25.
On the way home we decided to try and grocery shopping at a smaller store. We managed that and came home to fill our fridge and cupboards. I spent some time thinking about cutting. Then I cooked and served dinner. My sister called to find out whether I liked my new therapist or not. I told her I did. That she reminds me of an old friend. I of course didn’t tell her how crappy I’m doing that I’m getting whiplash from my moods.
Now I’m sitting here thinking how well everyone thinks I am when I feel like I’m drowning. I want to cut really bad but that would kick in my crisis plan and I don’t want my mental health team to know I’m cutting and isolating yet that can wait until I see them again. I don’t want to have to go to Intensive Outpatient or the hospital over my stupidness. I don’t know how to tell them how bad my paranoia is. That I’ve found I can block out the noise of my head/thoughts by using headphones and listening to music. I don’t want to die today just really hurt myself. All together it was a good day maybe I’m stabling out again. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
Well… I cut, not bad but I did. I’ve been isolating myself through music and my mood has been all over the place. I couldn’t get the thought out of my head that if I cut I’d be better. So I did it to prove myself wrong. Well I was wrong. I like it a lot. If I do it again in the next week I violate my crisis plan and my husband calls my therapist and psychiatrist. I do plan on telling my therapist and psychiatrist but I don’t want it to be on the phone. I don’t want them to mention Intensive Outpatient or hospitalization. I don’t know what I want. I want to feel better. I want good mania, not this sucky-ness.
I went to co-op today, so I wouldn’t hurt myself or get paranoid, well that went well. Most of the day I was fighting the urge not to tell people to “go fuck off”. Even after dinner in the parking lot I thought I was being followed and going to be mugged. I refuse to be alone for the section 8 inspection because they may hurt me. So now my husband has to cancel his therapist appointment to be here. He doesn’t go to therapy without me anyway. I think I’d worry what he was plotting if he did go alone. My paranoia is strong. I called the receptionist and got an appointment to see my therapist again in two weeks. So I’m no longer waiting a month just 2 weeks.
I still have the feelings of bugs on me and kicked in the chest. The sooner I accept these feelings are forever the better off I am.
I fucked up today. The whole day. I was at the clinic for hours today and I couldn’t get out the words “I’m not okay.” or “help me.” All I got out is. “Crappy” when asked how I was but that meant nothing. I don’t see my therapist or psychiatrist for another month. I came home and cried and cried and cried. Why couldn’t I say what needed to be said.
I talked about my treatment plan, my dinner time meltdown, mindfulness, my fear that they’ll hospitalize me, meds I’m on and that I’ve taken them daily for so long. What wasn’t said is “I need help.”, “I need a med change.” “I’m not okay.” “I’m drowning here”. So tonight as the hopeless feelings flood and suicide spins in my head. I’ve decided to call my new therapist tomorrow and see if I can get an appointment in two weeks. I feel more hopeless now then I did two weeks ago.