Archive for the anxiety disorders Category

The Panxiety Files: Is It Just Me?

Posted in anxiety, anxiety disorders with tags , , , , , on July 3, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I had a swearing fury laden meltdown in public. Fortunately, only my kid was around to witness it, and sadly, she is used to my panic episodes of this ilk. We were in town and it was 90 degrees and my brother seemed to be taking forever to come out so we could get on the road home…and I started feeling panxious. Paranoid the car wouldn’t start or would break down cos of the extreme heat. Aggravated that I even brought up the notion of waiting in town an hour to bring him home. He’s turning 25, they bought him a vehicle, the state gave him a license, it’s time to cut the fucking apron strings and let him drive himself. I wanted to be helpful and yes, get a little help with gas money, but it’s turning out to be more anxiety than I can handle.

Is it just me?

Does anyone else have panic attacks when they are out of their ‘safe space’, be it a man/woman cave, home, car, hangout, et al?

Do you feel your chest tighten and your belly roll and your heart beating in your chest, belly, and neck? Do you find it hard to breathe? Do you feel like a cornered animal and lash out with angry foul words even though you know it will serve no purpose except to later make you ashamed of your inability to conquer panic and control your negative emotions?

Or is it just me?

I REITERATE; THIS IS AN INTERACTIVE BLOG SO I AM ASKING PEOPLE TO CHIME IN.

Tell me how your anxiety and panic manifest. Do you get dizzy? Sweaty? Go weak in the knees, feel woozy, and swear you’ll pass out but you don’t have time cos your gut goblins are dictating that you need a bathroom cos you are getting sick?

If it is just me, well…I can buy that my lashing out with foul angry language may be specific to me. I used to burst into tears and become super terrified and it really ran so called friends off. They were repulsed by the sniveling, terrified creature that was embarrassing them in public. So I learned to mask the symptoms to a degree. I learned to let it turn to anger and angry foul words because guess what?

People are more forgiving of that than if you cry and fall to pieces.

It’s sort of a sad statement about the decency of humans. Or at least the ones I have known who have been like rats scurrying off a sinking ship when I melt down and it becomes humiliating for them. They never once think how it makes me feel and how frustrating it is to be this so called bad ass yet get my ass kicked by a panic disorder I didn’t ask for, don’t want, and wish to hell I could get rid of.

So…chime in. How does your panic mess with your day to day life? Your ability to work, to run errands, to be a parent, be a spouse/gf/bg/et al. How do you cope? C’mon, toss me a bone here. I really need to know it isn’t just me whose panic has metastasized to the point I can barely leave my home without a meltdown. I am asking for input and yeah, maybe I don’t want to feel so alone in all of this. It’s not that I want others to suffer this shit, it’s just that I know some do and…if you have any coping mechanisms for the worst of it that soothe you…

To quote Dr. Frasier Crane, “I’m listening.”

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Sometimes, not even a brain reboot helps

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , on June 12, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Cool wet gloomy day. I took my kid to day camp, came home, and curled up in bed. Two hours later I was still awake with racing thoughts and becoming agitated. All I wanted was to catch up on the sleep I didn’t get last night. I thought it would make things better. Then I could accomplish something. Instead, I didn’t nod off til after noon, then I woke in a panic at 1:30, terrified I had overslept. I went back down til 2:30 and forced myself to get up, get redressed and made up for public, and off I went. I fetched her, then my brother from his job, brought them both home, she went to their house to play with the neighbor kid and I am home alone. The cats are going bonkers as they always do any time there’s an abrupt shift in weather.

I thought I’d feel better having napped. Instead, I just feel loopy. Like putting a gallon of gas in the car then wondering why you run out before you reach your destination. It’s pretty easy when you start on an empty tank. That gallon does not go far. Nor do naps, especially when interrupted by a massive heart thundering bolt upright panic attack. It’s hit or miss, the sleep/nap thing. I guess with my moods tied to the weather I should have seen that today was just going to be a low energy, low mood day. I took my kid to the park and faked being human for a bit, at least.

And I did NOT take Abilify and guess what? Not itchy, not twitchy, not restless or antsy. Also not overloaded with anxiety from the Wellbutrin as the NP and her student said I was. I guess that is what makes it so insulting and easy to hate them. They just don’t listen to how it is for me, only how it reads from a book or a dozen case studies. I am an individual. Or maybe like Dilbert always called it, indivu-duh-ual. I feel pretty space case duhhhh right now but that is likely lack of sleep.

I am ready for bed. Hopefully they bring my kid home at a decent hour. I am not taking her to camp tomorrow cos she wants to go Friday for swimming and I have to kind of preserve gas. I got help, not a blank check. Still keeping up the vacation fundraiser, though, for all the good it will do. I would like just ONCE to have the money to take her to the public pool, as a mom and daughter, and maybe fit in a carnival where I can afford to go with her and ride and play games. Is it silly that I am a little envious that she gets to do all this via day camp while I am stuck home with housework and boredom? Petty or not, I can’t help but feel like I am left out of the fun aspects of her life. It’s all do to lack of money, not lack of interest or desire to have fun with her. I wonder if she knows the difference.

Today was a wash. The sun is coming out now and I just want to flip it off cos now, I am so tired, all I want to do is sleep and I need darkness and a tucked in child for that to happen.

No, a brain reboot does not always work out the glitches. I got my hopes up and that is on me. We’ll try the reboot tonight and hope for the best tomorrow.

Panic or Cowardice?

Posted in anxiety, anxiety disorders with tags , , , , on June 6, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I keep hearing a lawnmower outside the windows and I know, well, assume based on prior evidence, that it is the landlord’s son mowing the empty lots next door. The closer he gets to my windows and the louder the noise gets, the more my anxiety and panic shoot upwards. It’s unnerving, nerve racking, stressful. And on top of all that, I have to wonder…am I just a coward, not daring to look at things that upset me, be it someone outside close by mowing, or mail, or phone calls?

The answer is complex.

Because some days I feel I can face whatever life throws at me. Other days, like this one, I am a cowering trainwreck, so…cowardly. Not without good reason. If your anxiety and panic were so bad it impacted you gastrointestinally and sent you running to the bathroom sick to your stomach…would you be excited to take in more stimuli to make this worse? I’m not into immersion therapy, tried it, and it maimed my psych further and had zero good impact.

It is difficult to be this person people claim scares them because I am intimidating with my mood swings, expressions, and sarcastic cursing. That is one facet of my personality and it depends on mood cycle and other situational things. I’m not always cowardly, sometimes I am downright brave and intrepid. So I don’t consider this to be who I am, personality wise. It’s just one more spoke on the mood/mental cycle.

That does not make it easier to live with.

Not for the first time, I wonder why bother

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , on June 1, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

There’s a bunch of shit in my life dragging me down right now, not the least of which involves FAMILY being total hypcrites who can’t even say hello without insulting me. My kid is in town with her grandmother and they have like, 7 people there with good incomes, so they are basically buying her love which I cannot compete with. Yet none of it is going to help her at home, only at their houses. So I’m feeling furious and frustrated and hopeless and this is not the time to post seriously. I think (pray) it’s hormonal rage or otherwise this could consume me, realizing that even the one person in my family I could stand views me with so little respect she manipulated me for her own gain and basically lied to make me feel shitty and serve her needs. Oh, and people who say they will do something then completely blow you off without explanation or apology. If you want to know how bad I am feeling…I just sat through a Rage Against The Machine song. It’s very. very. bad.

So instead of focusing on any of that, or the fact that I can’t even sleep my torment off and reboot properly so I am just always tired and down and bitchy…

Listen to the Spookinator.

And give if you can or just click share for a good cause, for the love of pegacorn. I could use a little bit of a break now so I don’t have to break her heart and tell her I can’t take her to camp.
paypal.me/MorgueAndSpook

Little Bo Beep Has Lost Her Sleep…And Her Sheep

Posted in anxiety disorders, insomnia with tags , , , , , on May 31, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I truly thought I was in for good night’s sleep because I’ve been sleeping so poorly due to interruptions. I was tired and in bed as soon as my kid went down at 8 p.m. I was drained. But instead I slept 3 hours and woke from 11 p.m. to 4 a.m. It was frustrating as hell. I was tossing, turning, growling, groaning. It is maddening and when you can’t get your over the counter meds to kick in and you can’t slow your brain down because you have to ration your precious sane maker anti anxiety pills…I was ready to take a sledgehammer to something. I took 9 extra mg melatonin. Nothing. 150 mg antihistamine. Nothing. So I sat up and watched some Major Crimes and kept laying down, trying to kickstart my body’s ‘muscle memory’ of winding down to sleep when I start counting backwards in odd numbers from 1000.

Fail.

I finally broke and broke a .50 Xanax in half. It slowed my mind eventually.

Then I started to nod off…And my desktop speakers are SO good, every time there was gunfire or explosions on the TV show, I bolted upright in a dead panic, thinking I forgot to turn off the gas and just blew up the house. This happened 2 or 3 times before I said, oh, forget it, and swapped out my sound machine as background noise. Thundering rainstorm is my soother. Eventually, I slept. Until about 7:45 when the cats started yowling and walking on my face to demand food.

Now it’s not yet 10 a.m. and I am somewhere between anxious but lethargic cos I did not get enough restorative sleep. I am running on fumes here and it’s gone ruin the engine at some point. Seriously, if we viewed our bodies and minds the way we do our cars and did maintenance that way to keep ourselves healthy and not in danger of destruction, we’d all be better off. It’s not as simple as seeing a GP once a year for a check up. Self care, like auto maintenance, is a day to day thing. The one time you slack off could well be like running your car out of oil and destroying the engine. You would never do that to a car yet we think nothing of running ourselves that ragged, and everyone comments how we look tired (or shitty, as my family says), why aren’t we sleeping.

Insomnia, bitches. I wish I could explain it to some but they are such simple minds and so stubborn, nothing I say can make them back down off their ignorant view that insomnia is a choice. I am about fed up being surrounded by people like this from my nurse to my family. I would sleep 8 glorious hours every day if it were a choice. Because then I’d wake up and face the day, fresh and renewed and ready to tackle the obstacle course. Instead, I tread water day after day, waiting for bed time and the promise of even 4 hours of unbroken sleep. If you have ever literally treaded water, then you know how literally exhausting it gets over time. The mind is the same way, eventually it gives out and you go under.

In my life, no one cares. That’s not a sob story, it’s fact. I may have some fringe-lier friends who care but in my real life…no one gives a damn. And I am ready to Z Whack me a bunch of ignorant people.

Because while I can round up all my sheep, do a headcount, and go back to start…I can never catch up on lost sleep and run at a perpetual detriment.

But yeah, it is a mystery why I am so fucking negative and grumpy. TOTAL. FUCKING. MYSTERY.

Flash Functioning-Basic Existence With Anxiety and Panic Disorders

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , , , , on May 30, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I have briefly touched on how living in Podunk (population 400) has negatively impacted my ability to function ‘out there’ because we used to live ‘in town’ (population 19,000) I always called it the ‘petri dish’ cos my kid was healthy as long as I kept her at home, but she got sick ‘out there’ amongst dish dwellers. Now the difference between in town and out of town has become a glaring reality, nothing to do with affect or simple dislike of the place. It is making me regress in my progress (oxymoron?) toward getting out of my comfort zone and handling the anxiety or panic attacks.

We were gone a half hour today before someone pulled out in front of me and I was flipping them off and yelling ass trash motherfucker. (Yeah, yeah, mom of the year I ain’t.) But it’s frightening, knowing you have to drive for yourself as well as others, who are so reckless and distracted. By the time we left town, FOUR cars had pulled out in front of me in like, bumper to bumper seconds. One slowed reflex from me and I’d backend them and those are always the latter driver’s fault.

In town…I had a mini meltdown and felt like a cornered animal. We had to change pharmacies and the new one couldn’t get the scripts approved through insurance, then it was the computer not cooperating, and by the time I needed to swipe my card and enter my PIN, I was so anxious and distracted by the pharmacy/customer/drive through/noise activity…I had to enter my phone number and PIN four times cos I kept messing up. I got downright testy and said, “This was supposed to be a seamless transition between pharmacies, not a brawl over what is covered or not.” Then I had to confess the cashier was going too fast for me (while a line developed) for me to enter the necessary numbers and signatures. My God, if I am that scrambled on my own, what am I gonna be like on a clock? And that fucking nurse screwed up my scripts again, renewing my Wellbutrin and prescribing 150 when 300 is the max she will give. So I was stuck with that copay but had to battle insurance to get the Lamitcal 25s covered cos her and the student said it would help my depression and anxiety…I told her I was on 250 at one point and it did not good and she completely disregarded that.

If you scream in a doctor’s office, does anyone hear you? Not at this office. They all just hmm and haw and tell you that you have no choice.

I think she’s trying to overdose me so she can claim I don’t take my meds responsibly. There hasn’t been ONE month since she took over in October that she hasn’t fucked up my scripts by renewing stuff I wasn’t even being prescribed anymore. What am I supposed to think? And how can I not be concerned that she isn’t doing this for other patients who aren’t as med savvy as I am? What if she has others with a worse IQ deficit who just take what is prescribed without questioning it? I went over her head, it did no good. I talk to the staff, they think it’s just about scoring more benzos.

No one is listening.

And meanwhile, I am having such trouble with basic existence, getting totally scattered and panicked. She does not care and she is supposed to be there for me through my difficulties and I made my anxiety clear. I am tired of being disregarded.

I am tired of being scared to leave the house. Scared to drive outside of Armpit.

Just tired, cos I don’t ever get more than 3 hours of solid sleep.

This nurse could not care less.

And the fact that her carelessness could poison someone who isn’t hyper aware…

She is dangerous. I understand she’s the only option they really have since no one wants to work there so they are basically kissing her incompetent ass…But how much is too much? How long before I am justified in wanting better?

It has gotten so bad, I have a friend willing to send me a gas card if I can find an out of town doctor who will see me. Yeah, it is THAT fucking bad.

I’ve done self checks, awareness of myself, soul searching, playing devil’s advocate…

This nurse is bad medicine. And no one should have to endure that, insured or not. No one should be fully medicated and terrified to leave the house and drive. No one.

Regressing

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , on May 30, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I am halfway down the rabbit hole again. Last week, prior to a certain appointment, I was in a better place. But sure, situational stuff like BAD PSYCH NURSES! drag you down. That and money problems and good things that require money to be done, family idgets in your face insulting your entire existence…Sure, lots to be depressed about. But that stuff was all there last week. The difference is my mood cycle, plus said psych nurse cutting my Wellbutrin in half. She said there would be no withdrawal, but she failed to cover how suddenly my mood would just fall out from under me at half dose. She probably never thought it, because the books don’t cover it.
(Oh for the love of God there is a show on saying bullied people are bullied cos they have victim mentality and bring it on themselves, how does this empower anyone to stand up for themselves when the anti bullying campaign is being a bully??????) (Oh, and Roosevelt woman, people can make you feel inferior especially without your permission BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE ASSHOLES.)

I’m heading for a meltdown of epic proportions, obviously, between situation, cycle, and of course, the rioting hormonal oompa loompas.

I am rapid cycling bipolar two. So my moods never truly stay static more than a few days. The professionals confuse this with borderline personality disorder highs and lows, but honestly, it is nothing like that. It doesn’t matter if things are going fabulously, when my cycle rapidly churns, so does my mood. Plus hormones and situation and anxiety. It’s a neverending fluid situation of its own, subject to change without notice. I never even see it coming, not the extremes, anyway. I can feel myself slipping and I tell the doctors and say, hey, this might be time to get aggressive with treatment…and they ignore me and before I know it, I am down the rabbit hole and the meds are powerless against it because these people won’t treat an aggressive disorder aggressively. I’m the only loser, they get paid no matter what. I am the one who loses, and suffers, for their lack of aggressive treatment and willingness to believe the individual patient if it is at odds with everything the books have taught and every other patient ever treated.

Until I get someone who plays fair and treats me as an individual, I will never be content, that is a fact. Much like taking a C rate doctor with a great beside manner over an A rate one with a shitty manner, I would prefer a less than stellar doctor or nurse as long as they LISTEN to me. I don’t expect my word to be gospel but it should carry a hell of a lot more weight with my provider than it currently does.

OOps, I just sent my kid into tear meltdown cos I told her I am about to call and cancel her camp experience based on inability to pay for gas to get her there. I’ve reworked the income ten different ways and blood just don’t come from a stone. I hate to think she took a spot some other kid could easily attend 5 days a week cos they’re local and can get there no problems. I did not mean to upset her, of course, I am gonna send her. Even if I can only afford to take her a couple of days a week. I just feel guilty if days will be wasted where I can’t get her to town and back. Thus the necessary fundraiser which is in day two with one share and no donations. Five dollars gets here there for one day, $7 will get her home for one day. So less than $40 a week until I can find work.

Someone has to hire me for something, right? Though I am not convinced since the neighbor girl applied after me and still got hired at fast food hell. I was vaguely amused though when they tried to get her to take on my brother’s schedule so she could haul him to work. I bet she purposely requested a different shift cos no one wants to ride with him caterwalling the entire way. He can’t carry a tune in his hands, ffs, but he won’t believe it. His Facebook profile even claims he is a guitarist and singer. And my dad lets him delude himself that way. I am all for dreams but they have to have some reality to them. I could become a famous author simply because I can write creatively. I don’t go around saying I am one, though, just cos I write. But even my worst writing is better than his best singing and that is no joke. I sound mean but when someone is so bad at something you are embarrassed for them, well, is it really not a kindness trying to get them to stop making an ass of themselves? But ya know what, good for him, not letting our dad quash his dreams the way he did for me and my sister.

I had a fitful night’s sleep and dreaded waking up before 7 a.m. But the sunlight was stabbing through the curtains and once it hits my retinas, I am awake. I hate it. Had I had more melatonin I probably would have taken one and gotten another hour of sleep. I am waking before my kid, this is unacceptable.

Now to prop up my mood and try to get through the next few days. I am waiting for the hormonal tides to break and the physical discomfort to alleviate. Then maybe I can think more clearly. Right now all I can focus on is shit that makes me angry, like calling and declaring I AM NEVER EVER COMING BACK TO SEE THAT SHITTY PSYCH NURSE. Oh how I fantasize about that.

The good sign is that they are showing commercials for a reboot of the old game show, Press Your Luck, and seeing the whammy happily stealing money and being snarky has me rolling with glee. It’s kind of an 80’s state of mind thing, I had a rough go of it, but pop culture gave me so many escapes that I can still remember the 80’s as a great time to grow up.

That’s the difference between then and now. Prior to brain damage I was more resilient. After, it’s like each depressive cycle burns new paths in my brain and I can’t bounce back the way I once could. Very frustrating. But hey as long as animated game show character can make me smile and laugh and cheer…

I’m down, but I’m not out yet.