Day of melancholic depression. At least it is not agitated depression. But I am definitely still presenting symptoms. Don’t feel well.
My appointment is on Friday. I have to go all the way over to Bogota and the idea of the trip wears me out already. Not so much the appointment itself. It’s the horrible trip. I love the idea of travelling as seeing all the places on earth but the actual moving from one place to another in a bus is not the least bit appealing. I don’t know what to think of planes because I have never been in one.
Anyway, I still wonder what I’ll tell my psychiatrist.
Have things improved?
Being so down makes me feel like crying and saying HELL NO!
But thinking about things more objectively, that’s not so true.
5 weeks of meds.
Generally, I’ve been better on meds. When I was off them, I had this persistent irritability, and I often had rage fits, mostly inside myself, but sometimes spreading the chaos outside, making me break things, punch things, yell and ultimately turn all the anger on myself, passing to the uncontrollable self loathing stage where I just wanted to rip my head off my shoulders. It was scary to say the least. Vague, agitated suicidal and homicidal thoughts. I had the obsessive idea that my life was going to end with me in jail no matter what I did.
Being off meds had me in this set of mind where I constantly felt attacked even if the person’s intentions were far from it. My sleep schedule was not a schedule. I barely moved except from bed to the computer and then back to bed. If I had a laptop I wouldn’t have moved at all, perhaps not even to get food. Maybe to get coke. Luckily, my intestines had given up moving too anyway.
On the computer I basically browsed around twitter, facebook, played a bit of world of warcraft, not saying much, not commiting myself. Not finishing things. Had stopped reading the pdf books.
I’m calmer now. Rage waves gone. I feel more like myself. I’m not an agry person, never been. Many times I even thought maybe I should have more of a temper. But I didn’t like THAT, being on the edge all the time, that’s not me. I’m not angry.
I still have the irrational persistent idea that I’ll end up in jail. I haven’t commited or plan to commit any crimes. It’s irrational. If I see a cop I start acting all suspicious. If I’m at the mall I eye the detectors at the door sure that i’ll set them off even when I haven’t taken anything. If it’s not that, then I’m thinking that when I finally go abroad some idiot is going to put drugs into my bags and since I’m Colombian nobody would believe me when I say I am innocent because everyone knows ALL Colombians are related to drug dealers, then I’ll spend the rest of my life locked up as a drug mule. If it’s not that, then it’s thinking that if I finally manage to get better and work as a doctor, I’ll mess something up and someone will die because of me and, what do you know, jail again.
But I’ve been well enough to walk with my dad to the restaurant everyday to get lunch, well enough to excercise 10 minutes a day, which already has me feeling physically stronger and lighter (we don’t have a scale and I’ve been advised not to get one). I’ve been drawing a little bit again, and I’m working on another excercise painting. One of those boring still life ones, but I’m learning.
There’s a wave of numbness that can I can almost feel physically. I don’t spend as much time on bed. I want to, but it’s less impossible to break the impulse of staying under the covers.
One of the bad things of being off meds is that I stopped having the vivid, intense dreams I used to have when I was unmedicated. When I first started meds again, I had dreamless nights, or more, no recolection of them at all. But they are coming back in the shape of horrible nightmares. YAY.
I was “the best” around the 3rd or 4th week. After that, things haven’t been as good, but then again not as bad as they used to be. But it’s always some degree of “badness” anyway. And I’m still off work, not making a single contribution to society or my family. I still don’t shower much until it’s too hot that I get a refreshing shower more than a cleaning one. One of the things that have affected me lately is seeing my dad show progressive symptoms of worsening clinical depression combined with his already happening middle age crisis. He has been having the rage fits too and he’s even less of an angry person that I am. It’s unsettling and panicking. He doesn’t want to see a psychiatrist and has been taking some vitamins instead and “trying to be strong”. The guilt knife stabs me again, that if I wasn’t financially dependent of him maybe he wouldn’t have to work as hard. That maybe I could help more with the pets and the house. A lot of things at the time.
My relationship has been the only constant thing through all good and bad.