Hulk says, "ANXIETY!"

I wake up every morning to a low level, buzzing anxiety. Will the car start today? Will I be able to keep the offspring/dogs/plants alive another day? What should I fill my time with today? Am I going to be able to leave the house? And, best of all, will I have a walloping, heart pounding, light headed anxiety attack?

I've been having anxiety attacks lately, and while I take medication to stop them, sometimes I just have to ride it out. Take last night for instance: Hubs and I were watching TV when my brain misfired, and I started to get light headed. My heart raced, and all I could think of was disaster galore. I froze, then started twitching my foot to keep my brain occupied. I bit my lips to cause pain which would hopefully knock this attack away. I took two clonazepams, and imagined everyone wrong with my life - I am a terrible mother, I suck at housekeeping, I'm not a good friend. It truly sucked.

Eventually the medication started working and I was able to remember that my kid is kind of awesome (ok, he's totally awesome), Hubs doesn't really mind the mess and I think I'm a good friend (that could be up for debate ;)- ). I need to practice more mindfulness, and remember to take my medicine on a regularly scheduled basis.

My anxiety might not look like your anxiety, and that's ok. I have always been weird, I embrace the weird, so what works for you might not work for me. I find that taking my clonezepams on schedule keeps the nasty adrenaline fueled attacks from occurring, and it keeps my worrying/anxiety at a low lying background buzz.

I guess I'm like the Hulk, but instead of always being angry, I'm always anxious.

Still alive over here

I came to the conclusion that explaining mental illness to someone who doesn't understand it is like trying to thread a needle with a wet spaghetti noodle. It's frustrating and it destroys the noodle.

Why was I having this conversation? Well, my lovely child, who I truly adore, coughed on me. I ended up with a vicious cold that moved into my lungs. I saw my family doctor and she prescribed Prednisone. If you don't know anything about Prednisone, let me educate you. It is the devil. It is awful. It makes me viciously hungry and usually manic. Basically I'm super hyper, not sleeping, and eating EVERYTHING.

I've been dieting up until this point and had lost 15 pounds. (Yay me! :)) But because I was on this high dose of steroids, I ate and ate and ate. I was manic. Nothing could fill me up. I didn't realize it was possible to gain this much weight in a week. (I was on a 50 mg burst for five days).

The mania was the worst. I didn't go to sleep most nights until 11:30 (my usual passing out time is 9:00.) I didn't spend a lot of money, which was good and surprising, because I usually do a lot of shopping. I talked a lot and felt very intense.

I was trying to explain this to someone and they just kept repeating, "Well, you need stronger willpower." When I'm manic, self control goes out the window. I live in the now. I don't think about the consequences of my actions. I want what I want and I want it right now. I have very little control over myself. It's like another person occupies my body and I'm just along for the ride.

Thankfully I'm done with the Prednisone. The first day off of it I crashed. I was so tired, and depressed. But now I'm feeling ok. I'm eating my weight in vegetables - and pooping my weight in vegetables (TMI?).

I can do this. I will do this.

Day Three

It was rough today. I went a 1.35 miles, had to stop a lot, but my head didn't pound nearly as much. Although my knee and back are killing me...it's fun getting older. And I'm exhausted - I think the lack of diet doctor pepper in the afternoon today is kicking me butt. Anyway, I walked, I did it and didn't enjoy it, but I lived. And the garbage can that's right next to the bench smells like a porta potty on a hot summer day - who is crapping in a garbage can? That's the real question of the day.

Day 2

My sweet niece is visiting, and she walks 2-3 miles a day, so she came on today's forced torture. I made it up and down hills, felt the blood pounding through my skull and my shins were killing me. When we got home my blood sugar tanked, quickly, I almost started crying, but my quick thinking husband handed me a jar of grape jelly and told me to eat. I am not a fan of grape jelly but when you're violently shaking and afraid you might pass out, you tend to go crazy. I may have drank an entire gatoraid and had 5 tbs of jelly. Hey, I didn't die. That's a plus. I think the 26 units of insulin I had on board might have had something to do with the low. I did set a temporary basal but that was a butt ton of insulin. Anyway, that's my progress for day 2. Hopefully tomorrow is better.

Day 1

So since I suck at blogging, I'm going to use this space to keep log of my exercise. Today DH death marched, err, walked me up and down mountains. Or really big hills. Or small hills that felt like mountains. I learned two things - I am massively out of shape and I turn a shiny red color and sweat a lot. The ordeal lasted 30 minutes, I had one puff on my inhaler, and my blood sugar is tanking. Tomorrow I will wear capris, lower my basal rate and expect to use my inhaler like a crackhead uses their pipe.

Depression...triggers

The last round of depression I had was sneaky. It crept up on me with anger, then feelings of worthlessness and sadness.

I started out by being extremely angry at my significant other, thinking of leaving, wanting to punch him. I didn't know why I was upset, but I was really really upset. I figured it out when I screamed at the dog - something I never do.

I then proceeded to remind myself of how worthless I was, how I was just a burden on everyone, and considering cutting myself to stop the pain. I've never cut, but the urge was strong. I thought it might help.

I also thought about swallowing a bottle of clonazapem with a wine chaser. I don't drink - I gave that up because I could easily be an alcoholic. I like it a lot. A lot. But swallowing a bottle of pills? Not good. I often joke that I'm going to lick the inside of the bottle to get the benefits faster but I'm always kidding.

I don't know why I finally decided to call my doctor, but I am glad I did. He put me on Abilify, which means I'm on two antipsychotics, an antideppresant and anxiety medication. I feel about 100% better now - I can leave the house, I'm enjoying doing things (like this blog) and I'm not feeling like a waste of space.

Anyway, I didn't write this to make you feel sorry for me. I just needed to get this out.

I really suck at this

I am not a good blogger. I hate to admit it, I had hoped to be better at this, but I forget that I have this thing.

So, what's new? Well, I finally crawled out of the hole depression had me buried in. I can't figure out the trigger, but thanks to my amazing doctor and Abilify I can function again. I actually went to the grocery store by myself - which if you know me - it's a huge accomplishment. I have a mild to moderate case of agoraphobia when my moods are shifty. So there's that.

I've started reading Sherrilyn Kenyon, and read 350 pages today. I got the recommendation from my sister-in-let and am loving it. I also checked out some Sylvia Day books and a non-fiction about Queen Victoria. Random, but good.

And I just told my dog and cat they can't eat q-tips. I felt like I was back in the baby room at work.

I'm also knitting all kinds of good stuff (hats and scarfs mostly) so if you want a hat or scarf, let me know. It will probably take me two to three years to mail it to you - ask my bestie.

Anyway, life is good right now and hopefully I will write more on this thing.