First Psychiatric appointment

Well, today I had the appointment I so much had been looking forward to.  I was really nervous this morning in anticipation as to what his diagnosis would be.  When I got to the hospital, the lady at the reception desk said she didn’t have me in the list, and for one second I thought the world was coming down on me.  Fortunately, everything was alright and Dr Walbridge called me in at 10:00am sharp.

He started asking the normal questions, as to how I am feeling, what side effects and then went into more details about my drinking habits and my childhood.  Of course I told him that my dad is an alcoholic, and so was my grandmother, as well as depressive and attempted suicide a few times too.  He then wanted to know more about my drinking habits.  To be honest, I do drink quite a lot, and for the wrong reasons.  Although I know that alcohol is a depressant, I still can’t stop drinking.  My mom, who was with me, asked if this was something that could “run in the family”, since my dad and grandmother were both alcoholics.  He said that although they are not hereditary, they DO run in the family and it makes me more vulnerable than normal to depression, and in his view, I have had recurrent depression since I was a teenager.

After much talk, he “prescribed” me 3 things:  Cipralex 20mg, refrain from alcohol (for now), and exercise 3 times a week.  The Cipralex is not a problem. I just need to ride off the side effects that I have.  Refraining from alcohol will be a challenge.  I think this will be the hardest and if I can’t, then I will have to live with the realisation that I, as well as my dad and grandmother, am an alcoholic as well.  Exercise might be another challenge.  When I get up in the morning, I don’t feel like doing anything, just sleep all day, will be very difficult to get it going, but I will certainly give it a try.

I asked him if I would suffer with depression all my life.  He said I will always be vulnerable and probably will always have to take medication for it.  That suddenly hit me.  I will have this illness for the rest of my life.  I will never be able to live a “normal” life again.  I will always have to be aware of what is happening around me, and probably not be able to enjoy a drink again.  That begs questions like, do I really want to live a life like this?  Will I ever be able to find a man who will be kind enough to understand my illness?

I can see my life being a lonely, bitter, insecure woman who will live in her dark flat for the rest of her life, and suddenly, I don’t like that picture.  Although Cipralex has removed the suicidal part of me, I still feel tempted to end this seemingly insignificant and sad life that awaits me.  However, I feel very guilty for thinking this way when my mom and sister are so worried about me.

I suppose I still need to “digest” the information given today.  Dr Walbridge wants to see me again in 8 weeks to see how much progress I have made.  I feel the challenge will be the next few days.....

Another set back :o(

There I was, thinking that at last the medication was starting to work and that everything was going to get better.  I hate it when I am wrong and I am tired of feeling this way.  I have been doing so well the last few days, getting up with energy, tiding up my flat, going out for walks, and today, it took me so long to wake up and now that I am up, I have a headache and just want to sleep.  It might be side effects of upping the dose to 20mg.  Just read the leaflet, and the side effects I am having are:

·         Fatigue

·         Increased sweating

·         Blocked or runny nose

·         Restlessness

·         Dry mouth

·         Sexual disturbances

·         Difficulty breathing

·         Abdominal muscle pain

The truth is, I don’t mind the side effects if they ultimately help me with my illness.  It has been a long 9 months now since I have been feeling like I want to die.

I was so hopeful, and this relapse makes me feel that the solution is nowhere near.  I just want this to stop.  I want to go back to my life.  I want to be able to smile again without any thought of worthlessness. 

Is it really working?

Well, it seems something is working.  Whether it’s the medication, or I have changed my way of thinking, I am not sure.

When I upped my dose of Cipralex to 15mg about 4 weeks ago, I still felt lonely, sad, hopeless, unworthy and a sense of nothingness, but at least the suicidal thoughts were not there anymore.  I was still not happy with the results because before taking Cipralex, at least I would go out and walk every day and would try to do things.  In the last 2-3 weeks, I have been giving in to my feeling of not doing anything and found myself spending most of the time in my flat, not going out and doing nothing at all.  I then decided last Thursday that I would up my dose to 20mg, which is what the CMHT recommended, and I think (fingers crossed) it is starting to work (or at least that is what I feel). 

I have had a couple of episodes where I have been on top of the world one day, and then the next I am right in the bottom again, but in the last few days, I have felt well but with a sense of carefulness, and it seems to be staying levelled.  Of course I was very afraid that I would be at the bottom the next day, so decided to proceed with precaution about my thoughts and actions, but the next days, I have woken up feeling quite energetic, which is something I haven’t felt for quite a while.

I will not sing victory just as yet, and I am really looking forward to my appointment this Friday with the Psychiatrist at the CMHT.  I don’t want to fall into a sense of false security.  I want to be absolutely, 100% sure that I am on the road to recovery and to getting my life back!

Wish me luck!

Cipralex - wishing for more!

Because I was feeling increasingly suicidal, I upped my dose of Cipralex from 10mg to 15mg (after speaking to my doctor, of course!) about a month ago, and although it has taken off the suicidal part of me, I feel I am now giving in more to the hopeless, sad, worthless side of me and when before I would get up and go out to walk, I don’t feel like it anymore.  Before, I would get up in the morning, make plans for the day and be out and about by 9:30am the latest!  I would listen to motivational CD’s, I would read inspirational books, but now, I am just not interested in one bit of it.

I am really looking forward to next Friday 10^th June when I have my appointment with the CMHT.  I really hope they can get the medication balanced for me to go back to my “normal” life again.  I do wonder whether I will have a “normal” life.  My head gets filled up with ideas of how I will be lonely for the rest of my life, how I don’t want to live until old age, how there is nothing for me anymore out there, and of course that takes me to the part where I think, what the hell am I doing here anyway?

I toy a lot with the idea of selling everything and take a trip around the world.  That is something they do a lot in this country, but honestly, it doesn’t really push my buttons.  I think I would probably do it to see if I can find a reason to live.  Since I got to this country everything has been sadness, tears and frustration so I am desperate to find a way out of all of it.

I hold very fond memories of my life in Venezuela, where I had lots of friends and had great times too, but I do know that those memories live in the past Venezuela, and not the one that exists today.  I miss my friends, I miss the parties, I miss Christmas, I miss my life there, although saying that, I had lots of episodes where I wish I were dead.  My first attempt of suicide was when I was about 15, so somewhere in my head there is also memories of the bad times I lived there.  I remember being in hospital for over a week trying to find out what was causing my “mioclonic” attacks, which turns out that were panic attacks in the end.

The recommendation of the CMHT was for me to start taking 20mg of Cipralex, but they asked me to wait until it was properly prescribed by my GP.  When I went to see him, I had already started the 15mg and was having the side effects, such as tight chest, abdominal pains, etc., so he suggested for me to stay on the 15mg for now.  The side effects have gone now, but I feel so worthless, that I decided to start taking the 20mg, as originally recommended, so I am expecting more side effects in the next few days.

Do I have any future?

Almost a month!  But what a rollercoaster it has been.  I have been up and down and all over the place.  I finally got the letter and I will have an appointment with a Psychiatrist on 10^th of June.  I just can’t wait!

I just read my two last blogs and to be truthful, nothing much has changed.  I pretty much keep my feelings to myself since I don’t want mom and my sister worrying too much about me.  I go out with them and put my happy face on, and although I might have a good time, I always come back to the same old flat.  I find the most difficult time of the day for me is the mornings.  I struggle to get up and go, and lately I have been giving in into my deep feeling of unworthiness.

Last Thursday I had a great day.  I had things done, was very proud that I at least got out and had some walking done and had great plans for the next day, where I set up my alarm really early in the morning to get up and do some exercise.  I was absolutely over the world and I didn’t have one drop of alcohol!  I should have seen the signs though.  The next day, I was really, really down.  I suppose one of the things the medication is doing for me is that I am not suicidal, but the pain in my chest was still very hurtful.  I keep thinking that I need to get some goals and have something to live for, but each time I sit with pen and paper in my hand, I just can’t come up with anything.  I can’t see me living over 40, and if I keep going like this, I will not reach 38!

I sit down and think the things I have lost to this illness, and it is just too overwhelming sometimes. Yes, my marriage didn’t work from the very beginning, and I wouldn’t say I lost it because of my illness, but things became very difficult at times because of it.  I think if I hadn’t been so numb by depression, I would have done something sooner to ease things for both of us.  Now I am here, on my own, and Felix (my ex-husband) struggles himself with his life.  He has no direction, and I know it is not my fault, but I somehow feel responsible for his outcome.  That is another issue I have, but will not go into much detail about it.

One night I dreamt that all my Venezuelan friends were waiting for me and we had a great party!  I used to have parties at my flat and there would be sometimes more than 30 people!  As you can imagine, it was sometimes difficult to walk around, be we used to have so much fun.  Since I’ve been to England, I can count “friends” with the fingers of one hand, and even though, I have lost some of them due to this illness.  One special one I lost, who also turned out to be the love of my life.  When we separated over 2 years ago, it was hard, because not only I lost the love of my life, but also my best friend.  Somehow, we kept seeing each other and although the relationship is very complicated, I felt that at least I still had my friend.  When I was really down on Thursday, I decided that I would tell him how I felt, and oh boy, what a mistake.  I didn’t hear from him for the next 3 days!!!  I think what hurts the most if feel how someone falls out of love with you.  It is a horrible feeling and it never happened to me before.

Now, I feel lonelier than ever before.  I was so upset yesterday after HE got mad at me because I refused to answer his phone calls that I drank myself to sleep at 6pm.  I left my phones in the lounge so of course when my mom called, I could not hear them and she got all worried.  The first thing she did was call him to see if he had seen me.  I am tired of this “relationship”.  It feels like I am self destructing myself staying in touch with him, but don’t have the guts to ask him to leave me alone either.

When mom finally got to my flat and found me sound asleep in my bedroom, she felt relieved, but when I got up I saw her husband (who is not my dad, of course), and somehow I felt like he hated me for making my mom go through all this.  It might be this illness that is playing with my mind, but I don’t feel comfortable going to my mom’s either now.  Sometimes the day can go by, and the only ones I speak to are my cats!

I want my life back, I want to be that girl who used to enjoy life and was not afraid of anything.  I have even toyed with the idea of selling everything and go around the world and see if I can find peace for myself.  But I can’t bear the thought of leaving my cats and something happening to them. I feel trapped.  I want to go back to work, but I can’t.  I want to feel better, but I can’t.  It is becoming very hard to want to stay alive, and worst of all, not having nothing to live for.

The mask....

Hi! I know it has been a while since I have been on the blog, or have read anyone’s for that matter.  The main reason is because I am fighting with all my strength to get out of the hole I am in at the moment.  Medication is clearly not working and I have to yet wait for an appointment with the Community Mental Health people so something can be done about it.

In the meantime, I have put my mask on so I don’t get questions and people asking if I am alright, because I feel guilty of telling them that I am not.... yet again!!!  I am unable to work, I am unable to sustain a relationship, the only person I talk to on a regular basis is my mom an Graham, but I finally decided that I will not tell him anything about my condition again.  A couple of weeks back, I broke down again, and went to the length of writing a “good bye” letter to my mom and sister, but on trying to write something to him, nothing came out.  It turns out that when I told him what had happened, he just told me off and questioned why was I being so selfish?  I mean, it’s not like I am doing it on purpose, I just don’t feel the willingness of living.  I just don’t see the point.  I have nothing to live for.  The only reason I am still here is because I know I will cause immense pain to my mom and sister, but on the other hand, I am kind of in peace with myself about the fact that I would happily take my own life.

I see other people’s life, and there is not one person who can be of an example to me.  For instance, Graham, he has a family, a wife and 2 kids, growing up, but what is it that makes him cheat on his wife, if he is not willing to leave her?  Is every couple this way?  Is every marriage this way?  Is there truly a marriage that can be loving, affectionate and yet respectful of each other?  I know I have a failed marriage myself, and I keep wondering whether I should have married in the first place. 

What I am saying is, I don’t think there is any hope for me.  Who in their sane mind would put up with someone who suffers from depression and analyses every single thing that happens in the world?  I need all the help that I can get before I think that there is no help for me at all.  If something is not done soon, I will not live long to tell the story.  It has been a tough 7-8 months and I am still trying to get the best out of “life”.  Each time I try to set goals for myself, I always think “what for?”.  I feel pain, every day, deeply in my heart, and I want that to stop.  Sometimes it becomes unbearable.  Sometimes it becomes dark.  Sometimes I just don’t want to carry on.

Scared, tired and sad....

It has been a while since I have been here, and to be honest, I am not quite sure how I have been feeling.  It has been a true rollercoaster of emotions for me.  I feel sad, lonely, scared, terrified and yet, I am still here.  To be completely honest with you, it has not passed 1 day that I have thought about death as my way out, but for some reason, I am still here.

Sometimes the feeling is very overwhelming, sometimes it isn’t, but I just wish it never was.  I remember the days when I could live my life without feeling sad, although having said that, my first suicide attempt was when I was 15.  I have never been one to cut myself.  I am an overdose person.  I like the idea of going to sleep and not waking up again, and that is it.  Unlike some of you, I don’t have scars to show.  I have a friend who has scars all over her body.  She would write things in her stomach with knifes, so the scar would stay forever there to remind her.  When one of her dear friends died, she cut a cross sign in her upper arm, also to remind her of it.  Only once I was pushed to the edge and almost cut my wrists.  Although I did have blood, it was not deep enough to leave a scar.

I think my scars are more emotional than physical.  I keep telling myself that I am not worthy of anything.  My ex-husband used me.  The man I love with all my heart will not do what needs to be done for us to be together.  Someone else I met, that could potentially help me get out of this dilemma is not interested in me.  All in all, people say how pretty I am, but the truth is, I am not worth it.  Sometimes I am happy with that.  Sometimes I am not.  I know in the bottom of my heart that my cats are happy living with me, but sometimes I doubt myself.

When I was little, my dad used to come home drunk every single night.  We had a little dog called Blondy.  She was a beautiful Pekinese, but a little dumb is you ask me!  My dad would do horrible things to her, so of course, each time she heard his car coming, she would hide, just like the rest of us.  He is not cruel to animals, but would do silly things to her.  Sometimes, when I am drinking, I am very aware as to how I treat my cats.  I would hate it if they went to hide as soon as they saw me with a glass in my hand.  Thankfully, they are always all over me, so I suppose it is a good sign that I am not cruel to them when I drink.

I feel sad, I feel helpless and I feel hopeless.  I try to see a future, but I can’t see my life without this illness.  It has been far too long since I have been feeling this way, and I just can’t help but ask whether it will go away.