I shouldn’t be this happy to find out I’m crazy.
After years of dealing with my own bullshit, I’ll finally have a (relatively) definitive answer soon. I will soon know exactly what kind of crazy I am. My appointment with the diagnostician is soon, and I’m already prepping myself to not fuck myself over.
Cause yes folks, I can fool the shrink. I’ve done it before, and I’m trying really hard to not do it again. Granted, it’s not always that hard. But for some bloody reason, the minute my ass hits that seat in their offices, I turn into “Normal” me. Nothing really bothers me, it’s all just stress, or left overs from being abused, or losing my mother, it’s my trust issues, it my body image issues.
This time, I want to call BULLSHIT. Screw you self, I’m not letting you sabotage my last chance at being normal. My last chance at seeing how the other half lives. Since the other half doesn’t spend the majority of their time wondering if now would be a great time to kill themselves. There’s something unnerving about being so depressed that you calmly measure out the various ways of ending it, and just as calmly decide not to do it.
My therapist tols me I should write out a list of “symptoms/problems” so I don’t screw myself in the ass.
-Rapid cycling mood swings-high to low, can be weeks or hours. Manic periods where I spend money uncontrollably. But hey, it could be worse! I could use fucking people as my “crutch”.
-Hallucinations, which are getting worse each month I might add. Nothing like the feeling that there’s an old man hanging around when there isn’t.
-Persecution complex (i.e.-you’re all a bunch of bastards out to get me)
-Paranoia. (I.E-you’re only my friend/talking to me because you need/want something. The best part is how I always think people are trying to outdo me-like if I’m sick, and they say something like, ugh I don’t feel good either, I ALWAYS think they’re trying to be sicker so I have to feel sorry for them)
-Hypersensitive. Most people get vaguely sad thinking about bad things, and move on. I replay the images over and over and over again, to the point that I was to do myself in to escape images. Remember that little boy that was kidnapped by older boys, tortured and killed in England? I replay the images from that frequently now that my daughter is the age that little boy was. And right now, It’s physically painful to me to even write that. Most people don’t feel like that all the time.
-Trust Issues. Oh, that’s priceless. I can barely trust myself. I still expect my husband to fuck me over at some point, and I’ve never had a friend I trusted implicitly, and likely never will. But hey, have someone molest you as a small child, watch your mother die of cancer, and your father become an alcoholic, and what else should happen?
-Bad BAD dreams. My personal favorite lately was one where Vivian and I were in a concentration camp, and I was forced to watch through a window as she froze to death. She could see me, and in the dream, she’s screaming and begging, and I can’t do a thing. Most of my dreams revolve around death and killing. Apparently, I’m traumatized by death or something. Meh. Most other dreams are house dreams, dusty, musty, old houses I cannot repair or find my way out of. And yeah, I’m aware of what that could mean as well.
-Poor concentration levels. What was that again?
-Poor follow through- (aka-bright shiny object syndrome)
-No self censor. Watch me in public. It can be fun.
-EXTREME fear that I or my children will die of cancer. I know why I have this. But it’s totally unreasonable how bad it it.
-HUGE increase in appetite and weight gain.
I’m sure I’m missing something, but I want to go in there with something to give her so I don’t mess things up. What’s really scary is how hard it’s becoming to hide some of this stuff. The paranoia and the hallucinations in particular. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, to my side suddenly. I look like I have a twitch. It’s so hard to function with this whatever it is. I just want a name for it so I can start to fix myself. And I want the right name.
I’m so fucking sick and tired of being broken. I can’t explain the feeling to people who aren’t, I’m just tired of it being so hard to participate in normal life. I’m tired of it being difficult to exist. I’m tired of being unable to stand people in real life. I’m tired of thinking everyone is out to get me. I’m tired of feeling like a worthless piece of shit more than anything. I’m tired of thinking I don’t deserve any better.
After years of dealing with my own bullshit, I’ll finally have a (relatively) definitive answer soon. I will soon know exactly what kind of crazy I am. My appointment with the diagnostician is soon, and I’m already prepping myself to not fuck myself over.
Cause yes folks, I can fool the shrink. I’ve done it before, and I’m trying really hard to not do it again. Granted, it’s not always that hard. But for some bloody reason, the minute my ass hits that seat in their offices, I turn into “Normal” me. Nothing really bothers me, it’s all just stress, or left overs from being abused, or losing my mother, it’s my trust issues, it my body image issues.
This time, I want to call BULLSHIT. Screw you self, I’m not letting you sabotage my last chance at being normal. My last chance at seeing how the other half lives. Since the other half doesn’t spend the majority of their time wondering if now would be a great time to kill themselves. There’s something unnerving about being so depressed that you calmly measure out the various ways of ending it, and just as calmly decide not to do it.
My therapist tols me I should write out a list of “symptoms/problems” so I don’t screw myself in the ass.
-Rapid cycling mood swings-high to low, can be weeks or hours. Manic periods where I spend money uncontrollably. But hey, it could be worse! I could use fucking people as my “crutch”.
-Hallucinations, which are getting worse each month I might add. Nothing like the feeling that there’s an old man hanging around when there isn’t.
-Persecution complex (i.e.-you’re all a bunch of bastards out to get me)
-Paranoia. (I.E-you’re only my friend/talking to me because you need/want something. The best part is how I always think people are trying to outdo me-like if I’m sick, and they say something like, ugh I don’t feel good either, I ALWAYS think they’re trying to be sicker so I have to feel sorry for them)
-Hypersensitive. Most people get vaguely sad thinking about bad things, and move on. I replay the images over and over and over again, to the point that I was to do myself in to escape images. Remember that little boy that was kidnapped by older boys, tortured and killed in England? I replay the images from that frequently now that my daughter is the age that little boy was. And right now, It’s physically painful to me to even write that. Most people don’t feel like that all the time.
-Trust Issues. Oh, that’s priceless. I can barely trust myself. I still expect my husband to fuck me over at some point, and I’ve never had a friend I trusted implicitly, and likely never will. But hey, have someone molest you as a small child, watch your mother die of cancer, and your father become an alcoholic, and what else should happen?
-Bad BAD dreams. My personal favorite lately was one where Vivian and I were in a concentration camp, and I was forced to watch through a window as she froze to death. She could see me, and in the dream, she’s screaming and begging, and I can’t do a thing. Most of my dreams revolve around death and killing. Apparently, I’m traumatized by death or something. Meh. Most other dreams are house dreams, dusty, musty, old houses I cannot repair or find my way out of. And yeah, I’m aware of what that could mean as well.
-Poor concentration levels. What was that again?
-Poor follow through- (aka-bright shiny object syndrome)
-No self censor. Watch me in public. It can be fun.
-EXTREME fear that I or my children will die of cancer. I know why I have this. But it’s totally unreasonable how bad it it.
-HUGE increase in appetite and weight gain.
I’m sure I’m missing something, but I want to go in there with something to give her so I don’t mess things up. What’s really scary is how hard it’s becoming to hide some of this stuff. The paranoia and the hallucinations in particular. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, to my side suddenly. I look like I have a twitch. It’s so hard to function with this whatever it is. I just want a name for it so I can start to fix myself. And I want the right name.
I’m so fucking sick and tired of being broken. I can’t explain the feeling to people who aren’t, I’m just tired of it being so hard to participate in normal life. I’m tired of it being difficult to exist. I’m tired of being unable to stand people in real life. I’m tired of thinking everyone is out to get me. I’m tired of feeling like a worthless piece of shit more than anything. I’m tired of thinking I don’t deserve any better.
Getting a good diagnosis helps like you wouldn't believe. My ex boyfriend was diagnosed as bipolar after we had been together for a couple of years. His doctor did a 2 prong approach (medicine and therapy to help him change how he reacted to certain situations) and he was like a different person (in a good way).
The main thing you and your husband need to watch out for is when you're in "normal" long enough to feel "cured". My ex hit that point and decided to stop taking his meds, which put us back at square one. It's not an uncommon problem, but I think that it's one you can avoid if you know to watch out for it.
Anyway, glad to hear you're close to a good diagnosis.
Posted by
Anonymous |
11:54 a.m.
Reads a little like BPD to me. There's a lot of info online about that. Of course you'd never self-diagnose, would you? ;)
Posted by
Anonymous |
1:23 p.m.
Are you seeing a psychiatrist or a psychologist?
I agree with the idea to write things down and take them in. Its hard to verbalize certain things in our life, for fear of being labeled. It took me a VERY long time to admit all the times that I was suicidal.
Many of the things that you have described fall into the "Major Depressive Disorder" category of depression. When someone is in the low cycle of bi-polarism they have the same characteristics.
I'm glad that you are closer to a diagnosis, I personally beleive in the two prong approach myself. Using both drugs and therapy. You can use a psychologist and a psychiatrist in tandem. Being trained in Psychology I strongly beleive that our experiences have a great impact on our moods and cognitive processes. In my case I had abandonment issues, and as a result I had many many of the things you are describing. Persecution complex, paranoia, hypersensitivity, trust issues, suicidal thoughts (I was an impulse suicide risk....driving down the road and the thought would enter my head that I could stop the pain by turning into that on-coming 18 wheeler). Also, just as a side note, many people suffering from depression self medicate with cigarettes, alchohol, drugs and...shopping. Yep, its common. I smoked and shopped. Uncontrollably.
Hang in there.
Posted by
Anonymous |
1:27 p.m.
Awww, thanks.
ANd Eden, I'd NEVER self diagnose. The bookmarks for the NIMH page-totally not my fault.
My problem has always been that I read too much, and I always feel that I'm just internalizing what I read. So I worry that I'm not actually ill, just pretending. Which from what I understand, is also part of the problem.
Jennifer, I've been there. I'm currently seeing a therapist (thru EAP at work) and she's a HUGE help. We aren't making a ton of progress under the doctor (and I don't know which kind she is off the top of my head) makes the diagnosis, then we'll move on.
The thing that really triggered me into getting some REAL help this time was the casual ways I'd think of killing myself. I wasn't even sad or upset about it anymore-I just wanted to swallow all the pills all the time. Then the next day, I'd be out blowing money.
Ah, craziness.
Posted by
thordora |
1:33 p.m.
Good luck man... Lemme know the outcome.
And I don't consider you to be broken. A little cracked? Maybe. But hell: aren't we both... lol
That is another blog entry ALL TOGETHER! haha
Hang in there... You'll have answers soon
Posted by
Anonymous |
6:58 p.m.
I second what everyone else has said so far. I've known way to many bipolar and manic depressives. Once they find the appropriate therapy and treatment, they're like a whole different person. Of course, they also report feeling so different that they're not "creative" or "themselves" anymore.
It's a double-edged sword. If you're able to find treatment and medicine that help you, it might be more than you want but it'll probably be what's best for you and your family.
As for the molestation, mom dying, dad's alcoholism bit...that leads me to think you've got some serious undiagnosed depression, too, that you may or may not be willing to admit to.
I feel for you. Life's hard enough when you're "perfectly normal", which I've never known, personally. I hope you finally get some good, solid answers and that the treatment does wonders for you.
Posted by
Anonymous |
1:28 a.m.
Oh Missy, I know there's some serious depression underneath it all. But I like how my therapist stated it-it's like I'm in a feedback loop of all this because of the untreated mood disorder. Once we deal with that, perhaps I can get out from under it.
The thought of losing the "me" who writes terrifies me. I'm a little worried about that frankly.
Posted by
thordora |
9:12 a.m.
But you know what, it's a good thing that you DO wanna know. There are so many people out there that don't want to face a potential problem so they avoid seeking help at all. You're taking a MUCH more proactive approach, Dor.
Keep us posted!
Posted by
Anonymous |
12:14 p.m.
You may be cracked but I don't think your completely broken. :-) People who are truely broken can't recognize and analyze their challenges the way you're doing. I hope your appointment goes well and you can find someone you can really talk to and make a plan for moving yourself towards good health. (((((Hugs)))))
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Posted by
Anonymous |
10:23 p.m.