Pop another pill

This is totally how I'm feeling. A little more Zyprexa, maybe convince the doc I need some Valium for the panic attacks. A little something to get me through this. I'm just feeling awful.

Well, that's not true. I didn't have an attack yesterday, and I actually left the house for meditation with Adam. I didn't freak out or anything. I feel... flat. I'm still agitated, but less so. My head is killing me, too. I wish I could just feel better.

Alright, Phil. I'm counting on you

So tomorrow is Groundhog day and I'm hoping little Phil brings with him some good news. I, personally, love the snow and don't mind the longer winters at all, but let's use Phil as a gauge on how I'm going to feel this spring.

My aunt sent me an email. "I know it is taking every thing you have to keep it together. Only a few more days, the medicine will begin to work and it will be looking better. Tomorrow is groundhog day and I am sure that little critter will say that winter is coming to an end."

Finally, someone that understands. It seems like everyone else is expecting me to hold it together, and she actually acknowledges that it's taking every fiber of my being to not break down completely. And I've made my dad a worried mess, now. I knew I shouldn't have told him how I was feeling, and I even left out the suicidal ideation part.

I yelled at Adam earlier because he said I was "bullheaded" and "don't reach out for help." I call shennanigans. I asked my dad for help buying the meds that came too late; I got a therapist, that's help; I got on meds as soon as possible, that's help. What other help could I possibly ask for? He's "detaching with love" or whatever, so it's not like I'm heaping my burdens on him or anyone else. I don't ask for what I don't need. I don't need him worrying about if I'm going to kill myself. That's psychic energy he could be using to keep himself on track.

I am bad at reaching out, but I've done it this time. Things just, still, didn't work out the way I had hoped. Instead, I've got all this anxious energy to deal with and no outlet except eating. I should really go to the gym (If I keep saying it, will it come true?).

Are these someone else's pants?

Ok, seriously, it's not funny anymore. I put on my jeans from yesterday and I swear they're a size smaller. I can barely get my ass in them, and there's no room whatsoever to maneuver. I used to be able to put my entire hand in the front of my pants; that's how much room I had. And that was 2 months ago, tops. What the hell?

So what do I do after putting on the pants? I eat, of course. Why am I gaining weight? Because I just can't stop shoveling food into my face. I need to just stop eating for a month and get my pants back to where I can sit here comfortably. My dad is nagging me about going to the gym, but I just don't have the mental energy to execute that. Just getting to the interview and back wiped me out, and now I have to find some energy to get to therapy.

I get back from therapy around 7:30. Maybe I'll try to work out then? I'll think about it. Maybe just thinking about it will help.

As for the anxiety: it has got to stop. I am a complete and utter mess; dancing that thin line between amped and complete and total mental breakdown. I feel like I'm going to lose it. I don't know if it's me or the meds. I had that panic on Thursday last, before I went to the doctor, and it's just getting worse. So maybe it's me. Meds do take a long time to kick in, usually, so we'll see what the doc wants me to do.

What does NAMI know about it?

Damn. Julie just sent me an email with some side effect stuff and told me I should really look into the effects of caffeine on lithium production in the body. I think she's trying to get me to stop drinking so much coffee. So, I headed over to NAMI to see what they think.

"Avoid excessive intake of caffeinated beverages, such as coffee, tea, cola or energy drinks, since these may decrease levels of lithium and decrease effectiveness of the medication."

Aw, seriously? Lithium really works against everything else, doesn't it? I wonder if it's the caffeine that's causing the panic attacks and the shakes? I suppose there's no way to tell. What I'll have to do is just start drinking more water and less diet Coke. They say not to change the sodium levels in your diet when taking lithium, because that can effect the dosage, but cutting out one or two diet Cokes will hopefully be for the best, she says as she reaches for the cold one at her feet.

Waiting for the drugs to kick in

Adam just called and asked if I wanted to go to a meeting with him in half an hour. I would like to see him, but I had to decline. I couldn't even keep my voice steady on the phone, let alone in public. I'm just shaky all over the place. I feel so unstable. He asked if I was still suicidal, and I have to say I haven't had any thoughts of it lately. I've just been afraid of stuff.

There was a spider in the shower, a daddy-long-legs, which wasn't going to hurt me, but I got him down the drain anyway. And then I kept thinking he was going to come back up and attack me, so I couldn't turn my back on the drain. I'm just super amped up and anxious and I think being out in public is going to make it worse. I need to hide. He wants to come say hi anyway, which should be interesting.

I took 5mg of Zyprexa (I've been on 10 at night and 2.5 in the morning, but he said I could up it as I see fit) a minute ago. I'm hoping that will kick in and do something. I also had something to eat which sometimes calms me down, but it doesn't appear to have worked in this situation. What I really want is a Twix bar, don't ask me why.

Don't panic

Panic attacks have a huge list of fun symptoms, all of which I've felt today. I'm just super anxious. It can be caused by the meds, or by the depression, or just as part of my regular old anxiety disorder, but it's pretty big right now. I can't get over the anxious feeling.

I took a nice warm shower and that helped some, but I'm still shaking. I can't keep my hands still (which is making typing fun). That can be a side effect of the meds, too, or the anxiety.

I hate panic attacks. Just that feeling that you're shrinking and everything around you is so big and overwhelming. The feeling that you're a freak and everyone can see how much you're shaking and sweating. Your voice raises and you talk too fast, not making any sense at all. It burns just to be where people can see you, like a vampire in the noon-day sun.

Normally right now I would be chain-smoking. I would be sitting somewhere with a cup of coffee smoking cigarette after cigarette until the feeling went away. Instead, I'm here, sitting on my bed typing away. I want to take more Zyprexa and have it all go away, but I think I have to help my dad get my grandma from the airport. I don't know if I can face that. I don't know if I can handle being in the car. And then he'll want to go over to my cousin's house and hang out, which I just can't face doing. I can't face talking to people right now.

But how to make him understand? How do you explain to someone just how paralyzing anxiety can be? I suppose there's no way to make him understand. I'm just going to have to stand my ground and say no, I can't go out. He'll be disappointed, but he's going to have to get over it. I can't leave the house. I shouldn't have left the house in the first place.

I'm working myself up again. Time to medicate.

Driving myself to the brink

Wow, I am a hot mess. I knew I shouldn't have opened my mouth. I was sitting there feeling panic coming on; hands shaking, heart pounding, stomach acids churning. But I did it anyway. We had just read a story in the Big Book called Crossing the River of Denial, about a woman who realized there was no point in continuing to drink. In there, she says, after losing her job, "thank goodness I was sober or I probably would have killed myself."

So I opened up to the group. "I lost my job four months into my sobriety, and like this woman, I think I would be dead if I weren't sober." I was shaking, my eye twitching, my heart pounding. I don't know what else I said, but I could barely get anything sensible out. I made it short.

This seems to happen every time I open my mouth and talk about anything except how much something costs or whether the newspaper was delivered this morning. I can do work in the store, but I can't talk to anyone else about anything else without bringing on a panic attack.

On the drive home, I knew I shouldn't be driving. I could feel the car expanding around me: the cockpit was becoming large enough for a giant. It was just me and the steering wheel. Everything else was moving farther away from me. Then a bus pulled up behind me and passed to the left. It was so big! The bus just overwhelmed me even in my gigantic car.

I made it to the parking garage. Oh, God, now I have to back in to the tight space. Breathe, breathe. I did it. I shouldn't have been driving. I wanted to stay for another meeting but my dad needs the car. I feel like I should just take another Zyprexa and call it a night.

Gourd

Made it out of the house to a meeting tonight and thought I was fine until I opened my mouth to speak. It was a small group, so we were just going around the room. I suppose I could have passed, but it was a women's group, and I want more of the women in the area to know me.

I thought I was going to break down completely. I didn't cry, though. I just... rambled. I don't think anything that came out of my mouth made any sense. I couldn't put a cohesive sentence together, and there sure as hell wasn't a point to anything I was saying. I must have said something funny, because at one point everyone laughed, but I don't even know what I was saying. I was just trying not to freak out.

After, I went to Diane's house to eat buffalo wings and watch football. We sat in the kitchen and talked about our other cousin who is going through a horrible divorce, and about Diane's ex, who is an example of horrible human being. I was buzzing. I just wanted to freak out. I don't know what it would have looked like, but it would have had something to do with pacing, crying, shaking, and rambling. My eyes feel buggy and my skin feels like it's crawling. I want to take a Seroquel, but I have to be up at 6, and I don't think that's enough time.

I'm losing my shit. I have some Lamictal that Michael gave me left over plus the Seroquel. I don't know if I should just take them and hope for something? I can do this. I can last 5 measly days till the doc appointment. He'll give me something, maybe some Xanax for an immediate use. I took a drag off Diane's cigarette to see if that would help and it just made me cough, which is good, I suppose. Normally I would be chain smoking and it would make me feel a whole lot better.

I need to just go to bed, even if I can't sleep. I should just lie there, at least. I need to wrap myself in my comforter and feel safe. I feel crazy. I feel like I'm just going to lose it. Breathe....Breathe....

Don't panic

"Agoraphobia is the fear of being in a situation where one might experience anxiety or panic."

I've had a lot of irrational fears lately, like going to the grocery store or changing at the gym. My dad says just walk it off, but he has no idea the threat of a panic attack. See, panic attacks are more than just feeling uncomfortable. They feel life threatening, like having a heart attack. Your head and heart begin to pound, you start sweating, and you get these irrational fears that you just can't escape in time.

A few years ago I was boarding an airplane and suddenly felt this dread coming on. The plane was going to crash. I knew it. I just knew in my heart that it was going to go down. I tried to talk myself out of it, and just boarded anyway. I was sitting right next to the door, and watched all the other people get on. And I started to sweat. Would these people be able to open the doors? Would we make it? What if we were stranded in the middle of nowhere? What if none of us survived!?

I was on my way home for Christmas, and really wanted to get there, but I just thought I couldn't do it. "I have to get off the plane," I told the stewardess. "Let me get you some water," she replied. As the door closed I couldn't breathe. I started crying uncontrollably, and I never cry. "Open the door, I have to get off!" "We can't open the door, we've already left the gate," she said. I sat there panicking and then remembered that I had my special sleeping meds with me. I popped a whole one, and within 15 minutes I was calmer and able to sleep the whole way. Needless to say, the plane made it.

That kind of panic attack rarely happens, but I do get that sense of dread sometimes. I feel them coming on, and have to think happy thoughts - get out of my head and not allow the thought to stay in my mind.

So I went to the grocery store today. I was a little nervous, but I made myself go. And guess what? Nothing happened. I was in and out in 15 minutes with all the food I need to survive. And I'm ok. I checked out the Commit lozenges for quitting smoking, but I'm not paying $42 for something that will last me less time than a $6 pack of smokes. So I bought some Halls and some carrots. I'm going to do this. I need to get lollipops, too. I can make it. And when I feel a panic attack coming on, I won't have to smoke. I can find better ways to deal. So let's hope now I'll make it to the gym on Monday.