Happy Christmas everyone, where ever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hope you have a wonderful day. I wish you all peace and love 🙂
It may seem a strange post but it’s true, I have no thoughts, no opinions, not a lot of feelings. Ever since I started taking the fluoxetine again, I’m on 40mg now, my days go through sleepiness, nothingness, sadness, over and over again.
I have no motivation for anything, it’s hard to get out of bed. I have nothing to write about anymore, there are no thoughts in my head, even thinking is hard. I’m staring at things a lot, a shell with a heart beat. It’s taken about 20 minutes just to write this so I think that’s enough for today.
I’m so tired, in a dark place, so much to say but all too personal and raw. Old wounds have been opened, pulled apart, analysed, memories crowding in. Did I say the right things? Not enough? Remembering when it’s too late. Tears flowing or on the edge all the time. Another waiting game begins again. I don’t understand how I could have forgotten important details i’ve regurgitated so many times before. I know it doesn’t make sense, too tired to care.
My mother spoke to “Nicky” in the pharmacy, her ever reliable source of information on all medical problems and medications. Apparently my “worms in the head” feeling is common after longterm use of antidepressants, coming off them and trying to restart them. She has suggested persevering with them and the feeling will go away after three or four weeks. I’ve already stopped taking them so now I have to decide whether to start taking them again and if I can bear that feeling for a month without trying to carve my brain out. I feel a bit damned if I do damned if I don’t.
Probably not the best day for making decisions, I’m tired after a rough night of nightmares. During the night I was so scared but so tired I was trying to open my eyes but it felt like ripping skin apart. I felt someone/something get on my bed and I was afraid to open my eyes, part of me was saying “just get it over with, this is it” but another part was saying you know there is nothing there even though I felt “it” get on the bed.
I know it will sound weird because I don’t particularly believe in ghosts but I’ve experienced things before in my flat mostly what I’ve put down to a ghost cat. Usually when I go to bed for a nap, my cats will follow me, jostle around for the best spots but eventually settle down. They also like to look out of my bedroom window and jump from there on to my bed which obviously makes a bit of a thud. A few times in the past when I’ve gone for a nap there has been that thud on my bed but none of my cats are in the room. I also feel the cover being moved around a bit but have never felt any kind of menace so just ignore it and go to sleep.
Another time I believed there was a large man stood by my bed watching me, this did feel menacing and it scared me. I found out some time later that a neighbour (who was a large male) had died of a heart attack in the car park downstairs. Being reclusive, I don’t interact with people much so I don’t tend to know what goes on in my building. I used to see this man and his wife in the lift, taking their dog out for a walk. Then someone else was taking the dog for a walk and finally another neighbour got in the lift on her way back from his funeral and this is how I found out.
I’m sure there are logical explanations for everything and I’m also open to the fact that I’m mad as a box of frogs. So to take the pills or not to take the pills that is the question?
I know I’m not mentally well and haven’t been for a while. I used to take Fluoxetine 60mg daily but didn’t like the constant foggy brain on top of my epilepsy meds and painkillers so reduced them down until I was finally clear of them a few months ago. I was proud of myself when I finally managed to stop taking them and really hoped I could just manage with taking a diazepam as and when needed.
The last couple of weeks I’ve been going downhill and knew something needed to change so a week ago tried to go back on the fluoxetine 20mg daily which has been my starting dose. For six days I have felt like worms were crawling in my head eating my brain and I wanted to get a knife to dig them out. It’s a horrible feeling, something I’ve only experienced before when trialling an epilepsy drug. I couldn’t go on like that so yesterday I stopped taking them again. I’m also having a “fibro” flare up so in pain all the time as well. I’m not in a very good place at the moment.
I have a psychiatrist who I’ve seen I think three times over the last eighteen months, I had to cancel our last appointment but sent her a letter. That was a month ago and I’ve heard nothing from her which is really unhelpful. I need a report for a legal matter and apparently “she doesn’t do reports” so next week I have to see a psychiatrist I have never met before, start from scratch discussing my childhood abuse with him just to get this report. It’s not helping my mental health, anyone who has had to switch health professionals will understand how mentally draining it is to have to repeat your story to a stranger.
I’ve been fairly quiet on here recently, I’m finding it hard to put sentences together. Creative writing was an outlet for me but at the moment it’s a struggle to think. I get very frustrated and angry with my brain, I keep forgetting words. It’s probably a mixture of mental health, “fibro fog” and meds. A simple word or name is there one moment and then it’s gone and I’m trying to describe things in google that will make the word appear. Hopefully it will pass soon, I just don’t know where I am right now.
I read this article on MSN just now, a British explorer has gone missing in the remote Papua New Guinea jungle and my first thought is “selfish a******e”. This is a 57-year-old married man with three young children who has gone off looking for some remote head hunting tribe that he encountered thirty years ago. He hasn’t arrived at the airport at the time/date to return home so is presumed missing. In a tweet before leaving he put not to try to rescue him as where he was going no one would ever find him.
I have a big problem with idiots like this that want to go off and do dangerous things while leaving families behind to worry. If he wanted to live his life this way he should have stayed single and best of luck to him, not leave three children wondering if daddy is coming home this time. Some people will call his adventuring heroic, I call it selfish me-me-me behaviour.