Hope and Change

Gotcha! I bet you thought this was going to be a post about politics or the election or something. Nah
(well maybe the first paragraph is but the rest is politics-free, I promise!).

I have a friend who has different political opinions than me and sometimes we talk (argue) about stuff but I try to keep it light most of the time. I don't like getting in contentious disagreements over politics. My opinion is pretty much this: everyone has the right to their own convictions. The end.

So anyways, this morning the friend said to me "I don't see how you can vote for Romney when you live off the government!". Ouch.

I was stunned, hurt, and embarrassed (there were other people in the room). I said "I don't think I live off the government...I work....."

"You don't want to work...you told me you don't want to work", she said.

Well I was shocked by that. I don't remember saying that and if I did I am sure I was joking. Working and getting off of disability has been a goal of mine for awhile now. Nobody MADE me contact Vocational Rehabillitation to start the ball rolling. Nobody made me get training and find a job. Social Security wasn't kicking me off anytime soon. Bottom line: I do not have to work; I am choosing to work.

Work to me isn't just about a paycheck. It is about pushing myself to do something that for years I thought I would never be able to do. It is doing what several social workers and doctors told me I would likely never accomplish. It is about gaining self-confidence and self-respect, and feeling like I am being a good role model for my children. I believe in the value of working for what I have, but for much of my adult life my mental illness had kept me from living this value.

I have been working almost a year and I still sometimes wake up and think to myself "hey, I'm working! I'm actually doing it" and it feels so unreal, but in a good way. It feels so good that hear my family and people who have known me a long time tell me how far I have come and how proud they are of me. Its not a feeling I have experienced much in my life (which is so wrong...when people are afflicted with cancer or MS people gather around them and cheer them on and run races for them and shit. When you have mental illness you are just a big dissappointment. Whatever).

Anyways, back to this morning. I am sad to say that at the moment I was too upset and humiliated to come up with a good defense. About the best I could do was try not to cry until I found a quiet place, alone. As I cried, my mind went to that negative place that it so often goes to when I am hurt or upset. Thoughts were running through my mind....."fuck this, just fucking quit already.....why even try...this is how people will always see you.....this is who you will always be....you are just kidding yourself to think that you can change....that you HAVE changed....you are still the same worthless loser and everyone can see it and everyone thinks so...blah blah blah". I think that my friend's comment hit me harder because this is the first week of my reduced schedule. Basically I feel like my hospitalization last month was a wake up call to me that I was pushing myself too hard and not taking care of myself. I felt terrible to ask to cut back to part time because we are really short staffed right now. But I would rather do that and preserve my ability to work than continue to push myself and risk another breakdown and a longer hospitalisation, which could result in a loss of my job. I am really sensitive that people at work think that I am lazy or just dont want to work. It is just the opposite. It has been a real blow to me to acknowledge that right now I am not well enough to work full time. Even though my family and my treatment team say I am making the right decision it feels like a failure.

Ok this is getting wordy. What I really want to say is that some times it is hard to believe that things will ever change. It is hard to keep that hope alive. It is hard when you sometimes feel like the whole world (and even your mind) is against you. It's is hard when you feel judged for what you lack rather than celebrated for what you have accomplished. But despite everything, I found a bit of hope today. I experienced shame, hurt, and anger. My mind was torn apart my the negative thoughts which in the past have led to me making self destructive choices. I experienced all of that but you know what? I let myself feel it, then I got up, pulled myself together, and went back to work. Such a simple thing, but such an accomplishment for me. So different than the way I might have reacted even a few years ago.

Such a change.


XOlisa

good times....

Today I found out that I am for losing both my therapist and my psychiatrist. THIS IS REALLY NOT A GOOD TIME FOR THAT!!!!!!!!!!!









*commence freakout in 3...2...1..............

setback

Sadly, my 2.3 year streak of not being hospitalised has come to an end. But on the positive side, this was a short stay, I still have my job, and I will get back on track.

On Monday my depression was really bad and I had tried several things to help myself feel better. I took the girls out to a park with bluffs and trees to see the fall colors. usually being out in nature can ease my depression a bit but by the time we got back I actually felt worse. I called a crisis line at my psychiatist's office and spoke with a therapist there. I am not going to get into it, just going to say that he was NOT helpful. The receptionist told my that my psychiatrist had an opening that evening, so I decided to go in, even though his office is an hour away. At my last appointment he had added a small dose of wellbutrin, with plans to increase it. I was hoping that after seeing him he would agree to up my dose.

That is not quite what happened. Dr. S was very concerned and said he wanted to walk me over to the emergency room at the hospital across the street. I totally freaked out...I did NOT want to go into the hospital and I had to work the next day. I was really worried that all my hard work would be ruined by a hospital stay. But the Dr. wouldnt really take no for an answer. Once we were at the ER he called my husband. I guess he told Chris that this was the worst he had ever seen me and he didnt feel comfortable with me going home. He put me on a 48 hour hold and I was checked into the er to wait until a psych bed was found. I spent the night in the ER and the next day two sheriff deputies drove me to a hospital about 2 hours away, which apparently had the closest psych bed. We have a shortage of psych beds here in Iowa and sometimes people have to go to the other side of the state for one. It really sucks.

Since I was so far away I didnt get any visitors, there wasn't anyone to bring me a change of clothes or anything like that. It didnt really matter because I slept most of the time, and hospital scrubs work just fine for that.

It wasnt too bad. I talked to my boss and she assured me that my job was safe. My wellbutrin got increased so that is good. My 48 hour hold was up at 10:30 last night and I wanted to go home so they discharged me. I was suprised they would do that so late at night but I was glad that Chris could come get me and take me home. Today I have kind of felt like a zombie. I am still pretty depressed and wonder if I should have stayed in the hospital a few more days. But I dont feel suicidal, and I guess I can be depressed at home instead of in the hospital. At least here I have my own things.

I am really apprehensive about going back to work tomorrw. I think I will just feel akward. Also, tomorrow starts a 7 day stretch at work and I just dont know if I am up to it. I need to talk to them about not scheduling my for more that 5 days in a row. They are really short staffed but that is not my problem- I need to take care of myself before things get out of control and I cannot work at all, you know?

Well that is about it for now. Just trying to make it from moment to moment.

public

well I am not sure if anybody noticed, but I went private there for awhile. I had some concerns about people at work finding my blog and the possible fallout from that. But you know what? I decided that I just don't care. I mean, I can't imagine that I have written anything in here that could get me fired. I don't write about work, at least no specifics. I have never said where I work or anything about the people I work with or whatever. So that would leave....firing me because I am mentally ill? I am pretty sure that is a no-no. Especially because I am Officially Disabled and all. And there are some rules about firing someone because of a disability. So there. I am confident that my mental illness has not affected my work performance. In fact, I think I am a pretty damned good employee.

I miss this blog. I miss the support, and just the feeling of getting my thoughts out there, out of my head. I haven't been writing much because all has not been well in Lisa Land. I am having a rough time and my mind has been in a pretty negative place and I guess I just don't want to bring people down. BUT I have decided to start writing again and to be REAL, even if it isn't pretty. It might even be triggering. The last thing I want to do is drag anybody down, so this is your warning. If you need to look away, look away. I won't be offended.

So here is the big ugly truth: I hate my body and I miss my eating disorder. There, I said it.

I have been gaining weight steadily and am now actually .4 bmi points away from being oficially overweight. And dont try to make me feel better by telling me that bmi doesnt take a muscular build into account, because I do NOT have a muscular build. I have rolls. Lots of them. And I just want them gone.
Let me be clear: I am NOT Pro-Anorexia. That is just stupid. Eating disorders are horrible, painful, dangerous, deadly mental illnesses. They are torture. So why do I miss mine? Maybe I am so far removed that I have forgotton how bad it was. All I remember right now are the so-called benefits. Being thin. Feeling special. And, as much as I hate to admit it, the attention. Healthy Lisa looks just freaking fine and oh so...healthy...therefore she must be fine, right? Wrong.
I am still depressed and anxious as hell. Add to that the distress of living in this fat suit and the stress of working and all of the expectations that come with being well and you have me, stewing in my cauldron of misery. I hate feeling like this. I HATE IT! I hate feeling this desperate. I want to just be able to walk by a mirror without wanting to shove my fist through it. I want to be able to get dressed in the morning without having a panic attack. I just want to be comfortable in my own skin.

This isn't the whole story, of course. There are other things going on that I am struggling with. I will have to write more on that later. Mostly tonight I just wanted to get SOMETHING out, you know? Even if just to say that I am still here.

XOLisa

party animal

I was a wee little bit tipsy late last night so guess what I did? I emailed the local chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution and requested information on how to join.

Apparently vodka lemonade brings out the patriot in me.

dr seuss

I do not miss those skinny jeans
And how I used to fit inside 'em
I said, and said, and said those words
I said them.....but I lied them

Life is hard

Life is hard, folks. It's hard! Don't get me wrong; I'm thankful and greatful and happy that I am doing so well with my eatingdisorder/mental illness recovery and I am able to work and have more responsibilities and all of that. But with that stuff comes: work and more responsibilities!

Here are the negatives in my life right now:
  I am tired, all the time. I cut back my hours to 3-4 days per week, but getting up at 5am those days and working 8 hours at a physically and emotionally stressfull job is still alot for me. I feel like a zombie alot of the time. And I still have my responsibilities at home, cooking, housework, shopping, ect. And I am watching my neighbor's kid after school which is really too much for me, but I am not brave enough to tell him that I want to only watch this kid like 3 days a week instead of five. I am doing it for free, and I need to be assertive and tell him it is just too much for me right now, but I just can't. But then again, if I end up in the psych ward my neighbor won't have after school care for his kid at all, so there is something to think about.
Ugh, there are more negatives, but I am tired of thinking about that stuff. So on to the positives!!!!
Positives:
I am working! Still! Sometimes when I am at work it will hit me: hey, I have a job! I am working! I am doing this!!!!
Guys, this is such a big, huge deal for me. For years it was assumed hat the best I could hope for was just to stay stable and out of the hospital. My big goal was "staying in the community". Even when I first started contemplating having a job it seemed so out of reach. Even the simple act of calling Voc Rehab was a huge step. And silly me, I thoughtthat they would just DO everything for me, call the school, register me, tell me when and where to show up, and set me up with a job when my CNA training was over. Oh no. I had to do all of that myself. And that is a big deal for someone who a) does not call strangers b) does not do paperwork and c) does not to anything on the computer but blog/FB/surf. Yeah.
So, as hard as my job is, the thought of quitting it does not even enter my head. Some days I don't even want to go back, but I know that I will, because when I work I feel successful, and that is a new feeling for me, and I like it! Oh, and they pay me.
Another thing that I have wanted to do for awhile that is now coming to fruition is that starting next week I will be co-facillitating a NAMI Connections support group. Ever since I found NAMI I knew I wanted to be a part of this great organisation. Because of my experiences I have always wanted to be involved with helping the seriously mentally ill. I used to think that I wanted to do something in the professional realm, but lately I have realised that I want to be involved as a peer. I want to be able to meet people where they are at and support them without the constraints of a budget or hours or program guidelines or liabilities. I don't want to be responsible for someone's care. I just want to be there for them. Does that make sense?

So two things: work and NAMI. At some point in the past several years I thought about these things and thought "hey, I would like to do that" and now look, I'm doing it!

Do I sound braggy? I hope not. Mostly I just needed to give myself a pep talk, because today was a rough day, and I need to remind myself why I am doing what I am doing, and why it's a good thing.

on being a friend

Let me be the first one to say that I have absolutely no authority to be writing this post. I have very limited experience in the friend department, because for much of my life I was isolated by anorexia, bulimia, and depression. By the age of 19 I had cut ties with most of my highschool friends (all 3 of them) and was immersed in "being sick". At the time I had deluded myself into thinking that I didn't need friends, that I just wasn't a "social person". That was total bullsh*t. We all need friends. Even just 2 or three good ones. People need people. That's just the way we are made.

Looking back now, I can see how deeply lonely I was. I remember one incident in particular. It was winter; I was 19 and living by myself in an apartment across from a Dairy Queen. I was not working, and due to the fact that I was AWOL from treatment I was not in therapy of any kind. I spent my days alternating between bingeing, purging, and restricting. I kept 2 bottles of vodka in the freezer and when I needed a break from the eating disorder I would drink. I would go for days without talking to anyone.

Periodically I would leave the house to go to the store for binge food, laxatives, and Diet Coke. I hated doing this. It seemed strange to be out around people. The store was so bright. There were people everywhere. People...talking to eachother...living real lives. What if somebody said something to me? What if I saw someone I knew?
One day I was in the store, at the checkout, and the checkout lady said to me "You have a nice day now!", and I honest to goodness started crying. I choked up, and had to turn away before saying "thanks, you too". By the time I gt out to the car I was bawling. I thought I might be losing my mind, for real. It was that simple act of human kindness, someone talking to me, wishing me well, that broke me down. It was the way she said it, like she actually cared. Maybe it was just that I hadn't talked to anyone in a REALLY long time. Maybe (probably) I was going through a serious depression. I know, looking back, that I was desperately lonely and afraid, but at the time I just didnt want to go there. So I went back to the apartment and ate and puked and starved the feelings away. For several more years.

That's all behind me now, and hopefully for good. I have fought, I have perservered, I have fallen and got back up again. I have learned how to laugh, and that it's ok to cry. I have relationships, I have friends; not a ton of friends, but enough. I am able to BE a friend, which is huge. I am not a perfect friend, but who is? I like to think that am doing ok, I have people I can count on, and  my friends know that I will be there for them when it really counts.

Which brings me back to the title of this post: How to Be a Friend. Notice I didn't say: How to be a Good Friend. In my opinion, you are either being a friend, or you are not.

Sometimes it is easy to be a friend. Sometimes it is not. I think of my 19 year old self, alone and self- destructing in my apartment in the dead of winter. What difference would one true friendship have made? Was I even capable of being a friend? How would I act now toward a friend if she was reduced to a similar state?

I will tell you what I would NOT do. I would not abandon her. I have been there. I know what that hell is like, and in my opinion, one of the worst things that you can do is leave someone alone (crying in the grocery store because someone spoke to her) in that state. It goes beyond being a "bad friend". The word inhumane comes to mind.
That doesnt mean I have to save a friend who is struggling. I leave that to the professionals. Let them do their job. The "job" of a friend is simple: be there. I will tell my friend, through actions and words, "you are not alone.".

Dear Friend,

You are not alone. I won't let you face this alone. Yes, sometimes you can be frustrating. It's hard to see someone you care about hurt themselves. It makes people want to turn away. But I won't.
I know there is so much more to you than just your struggles. I know you are funny, smart, and brave. I know you can beat this. But even if you don't, even if you never do, I will still be your friend. I know you are not your illness. We don't even have to talk abou tthe serious stuff if you don't want to. Maybe, by talking about silly things and cracking jokes, we can remind each other that there is more to life. We can talk about books, movies, our families, whatever. But if you need to talk about the hard stuff, I can be there for that, too. I might not hav good advice, but like I said, I can't fix you. AND THAT'S OK! I will simply do what friends do best: just be there.

Had someone been there for me in this way, back then, would I have recovered sooner? I don't know. Likely not. But I wouldn't have had to face it alone. I thought that because I was sick, I was bad. I thought that I was unworthy of friends. Telling myself that I didn't need friends was my way of dealing with it. I spent all that time feeling unlovable, untouchable. Toxic. But I was none of those things. I was just a girl who needed a friend.

I would like to close this post with one of my favorite passages from the New Testament. Even if you are not a believer, you might still enjoy the beauty of this simple message about friendship:

Love is patient, Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perserveres. Love never fails.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8



*this post dedicated to my friend 'nanas.

eating disorder=health anxiety=?

I was thinking today about my struggles with health anxiety (or hypochondriasis), which I have blogged about a few times in the past year, and my eating disorder. There are so many similarities between the health anxiety and the eating disorder, particularly the anorexia. In both situations, I find myself caught up in thoughts and beliefs that are so distorted that they are completely at odds with reality. What I think is really interesting is that these distorted thoughts pervade my thinking even as my rational mind knows that they are false. Let me explain:

First, the anorexia:

I knew, logically, that I was not overweight. I read the height/weight charts. I knew that I was underweight. I knew that my BMI was below normal. I knew that, technically, there was NO WAY that I could be "fat". But that was knowlege, not belief. This is hard to explain, but just because you can know a thing, doesnt mean you believe it. Despite my knowlege of the facts, I believed I was fat. I believed it, I saw it, I felt it. I experienced it. It was this belief, this experience, which dictated my behavior. I restricted, excercised, took pills, and purged, despite knowing that I was not fat, because I believed that I was. I know it is hard to wrap your head around....but then again, who said that eating disorders are logical? They are quite the opposite.
So, following this theme, here is a bit about my struggles with health anxiety:

I know, logically, that I do not have cancer (or congestive heart failure, liver disease, internal bleeding, blood clot, bowel obstructions, or whatever else my anxiety might currently be focused on). In the past two years I have had x-rays, ekgs, lab workups, and physical exams, all yielding normal results. My doctor has even done testing for heavy metals toxicity at my request (normal, by the way). All evidence points to me being a relatively healthy specimen. But even armed with these lab results, this knowlege, my mind refuses to believe it. I live under a sort of cloud that is born out of the belief that I am, in fact, terminally ill with some as-yet undiagnosed disease, and it is just a matter of time before it is found out. I try not to think about it, but it is in the back of my brain all the time. That is why every new symptom sends me to the doctor's office, so sure that "this is it". It is a fear that can't be argued with, because it defies logic.

So what is to be done about this brain of mine? I seem to have an issue with believing reality as it pertains to certain areas of my life. When confronted with cold, hard facts, my beliefs remain unchanged. This is problematic, as belief tends to influence behavior. I don't want to keep running to my doctor with my crazy claims that I have a tumor, or appendicitis, or some obscure, one-in-a-million syndrome. I know what I look like. I can almost hear his receptionist at the clinic rolling her eyes when I give her my name and birthdate. They know me by voice.

I can fight this like I did the eating disorder. I can not give into the behaviors, even when the thoughts are strong and scary. I can quit researching diseases and treatments, much as I stopped reading diet books and memorizing calorie charts. But I have to ask....will that be the end of it? Or will my anxious mind go from eating disorder...to health anxiety....to something else? Something....worse? It might be worth noting that before I developed the eating disorder I had a pretty fair case of OCD going (checking, symmetry). Before that I struggled with a seperation anxiety disorder, which caused me to believe that every time my mother left the house she was going to die. This is the problem that first sent me to therapy at age 11-12.

It seems to me that, whether it is the eating disorder or my health or whether or not I unplugged the toaster, my brain has a habit of latching on to anxious thoughts and churning them around and around instead of just spitting them out when disproven, like a so-called normal brain would do. I need to find out why I do this. I suspect it is a combination of biology and personality. There must be a therapy that can help (and please dont mention CBT because I have completed enough Thought Records to paper the Empire State Building).

Or maybe the best I can hope for is to learn to live with it?

Frank

My former social worker at the University of Iowa Hospitals eating disorders program partial hospital program. This man has said some truly awful things to me and about me. But of course he was this Big Time Social Worker at a Big Time University Hospital and I was just a lowly eating disorder patient (and we ED patients all lie and manipulate, don't you know), so nobody took my complaints about him seriously.
 Now the whole world knows the Frank that I knew.


http://www.kcrg.com/news/local/UIHC-Social-Worker-Fired-After-Guilty-Plea-133816798.html

s.o.s.

well, here is the situation:

I have purged 5 times this week. Boo.

Prior to this, I don't remember the last time I purged. Possibly, I have only purged maybe twice in the last 12 months (before this).

I am reeling a bit, just trying to figure out what is going on. I thought I was "recovered"; is this a relapse? Is it too soon to say? I will tell you this: I have NOT missed puking! It sucks big time. My sinuses are all messed up, my throat hurts, and I have a perma-headache. Not cool.

My body image had been really bad lately. But it has been really bad before without me resorting to behaviors. I might just be at my limit though, as my weight is higher than it has ever been in my adult life (except pregnancy). I am even over my UIHC target weight. Only a smidge over, but considering that the UIHC sets my target higher than any other treatment center I have been in, that is really saying something.
I am also wondering if being off my meds has something to do with it. Specifically the Lexapro. I remember one time when I started Lexapro, I had been purging every day, several times a day, and as soon as I started the Lexapro I stopped. The compulsion to vomit just stopped. Ok, so it only lasted a few days...but that was when I wasn't ready to give up my ED anyways. Maybe the Lexapro, combined with my desire to be in recovery, has been making more of a difference than I thought.

I don't know. I haven't thrown up yet today, so keep your fingers crossed for me. I have therapy tomorrow and I am sure we will discuss this. I am sure it is a combination of things: stress, depression, body image, anxiety. I just hope I can nip this thing in the bud. I was reading back to some of my blog posts from 2008/2009 and I do NOT want to be in that place ever again

weekend with my NAMI peeps

This weekend I am going to Des Moines to recieve training to chair NAMI Connections meetings. This is something that I applied to do about a year ago, and just a few weeks ago someone called and asked if I was still interested. At first I wasnt sure if I could get the dates off (it is three days) but then things at my job started to go south and I put my two weeks notice in. Today was supposed to be my last day at work, but I was asked by my boss if I would like to stay on, and I decided to give it another shot. I think I will only work part time though. Going straight  to full time was a bit much for me. And working as much as I was, I wasn't able to schedule therapy appointments (I have been to see my therapist ONCE since I started my job in November), and I haven't been able to be as involved with NAMI as I want to be. I know it sounds cheesey, but I need to be able to spend some time with my peers. It is important for me to have a place to go where I can just be myself. That's what NAMI is for me. I didn't realise how much I have missed my NAMI peeps until I stopped in to say "hi" a few weeks ago. I am really excited that I am still going to be able to work, but that my schedule will be lighter so I will be able to do the things I need to do to take care of myself.

Speaking of which, did I totally just miss National Eating Disorders Awareness Week? I had alot of drama going on this week and sort of forgot to stick my head out of my own little misery hole to see what was going on in the world. How did I miss NEDAW??? I know that there was stuff going on on campus. They usually get a good speaker...last year Jenni Schaefer came and she was amazing. I think another well known author was coming this year but I am not sure. I hate it when I get so busy that I space something like that that is really important to me.

There is just so much that I want to do. I want to start going back to that ED support group that I told that lady I would help out with and then sort of just never showed up (boo lisa). I want to be more active in my local NAMI, beyond even doing the Connections group. They always need people to help on committees, like fund raising or event organizing and stuff like that. I want to work....a little....mostly because I need money. I want to organize my house and learn to sew and grow a fantastic garden and take my kids on camping trips and be a great mom. There is just so much stuff I want to do, and then there is the everyday stuff I have to do. How does one know where to begin???

Well this post was sort of all over the place. Mostly I just wanted to share about my NAMI training this weekend. I am excited to meet new people from different NAMI chapters, and I think that just getting away (I am staying at the conference center) and focusing on doing something for me, that I want to do, is just what I need right now (even if that sounds a bit selfish).


BTW typing this has been awful, because last time I used the computer I was eating nuts (the kind you have to crack first) and now there are bits of shells under certain keys and they wont go down all the way, so I have to keep going back and fixing words that are missing letters. That'l teach me!

fight night

Chris and I got in a huge fight last night. A really bad one. I cried so hard I though I was going to puke. I woke up this morning with a "crying hangover". You know, when you have a huge headache and your eyes hurt and you feel like someone punched you in the stomach like a billion times.

The flipside of being in love with someone is that they have the power to hurt you.....way worse than like a friend or aquiantance. And you can hurt them too....really badly.

Sometimes love sucks.

The stupid things is, our fights always start over something small. Like, so insignifigant, it's almost funny. But sometimes little things can be symbolic for big things. Last night it was "I'm not good enough to ask for help, I don't deserve unconditional love and caring, I am worthless", which is a HUGE distorted thought that I have. I know it is distorted, but it is a hard one for me to kick (been with me since childhood), and it seems to pop up in my relationship with Chris alot. Sometimes I feel bad for Chris as he has to deal with alot of my baggage.

Someday, Chris will be able to ask me to make him a sandwich, and I will say "ok", or I will say "no, I am tired, I don't want to", and it will just be about the sandwich. That would be fa-reaking awesome.

Update Part 1: psych meds

Hey there! Well I think that the day that I wrote that last blog post probably was the worst for the med withdrawals. I have been feeling better since then. In fact, for about the past two weeks I have been feeling just fine and dandy. The physical discontinuation symptoms are gone and emotionaly I dont feel much different than I did when I was on the meds. The only thing I have really noticed is that I have been getting frustrated a bit more easily. Like, if I am looking for something and I cant find it I skip "annoyed" and go straight to "hot burning rage", but I am aware of it and just breathe deeply and chill myself out and so its manageable.
I do feel I have more energy and I also have not felt as "foggy headed", if that makes any sense. I did see Dr. Steenblock and he said that he wishes me the best, but that he thinks that my depression and anxiety will come back and I will have to go back on the meds. He is leaving my file open for a few months so I can get an appointment quickly if I need one. I totally agree that if I do get really depressed or anxious enough to interfere with my functioning, I will take the meds again. I am NOT anti-psych med.

And here is something I must say: I do not, DO NOT recommend going off meds "cold turkey", like I did. It was stupid, stupid, stupid. It's always better to taper, WITH your doctor's supervision. I just feel I had to say that. This is my disclaimer, if you will. I would feel terrible if someone read this and thought "hey This Girl did it and she turned out fine so I think I will just go off my meds too!". But seriously, anyone reading this blog should know that:

#1. I am not qualified to give out any sort of medical advice

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#2. I am not trying to be a role model

This blog is a personal journal and a way to connect with others who struggle with eating disorders/mental health/life. That's about it. Oh, except that I also use it to brag on my awesome kids from time to time.

up next:
Update Part 2: work situation

so stay tuned to read all about THAT hot mess........

well i did it

I went of my meds (wellbutrin 300mgs, lexapro 30mgs, buspar 30mgs bid) cold turkey about a week ago. It has been rough and today has been by far the worst. I have been experiencing a colorful array of discontinuation symptoms, including (but not limited to) nausea, sweating, cramping, loose stools, brain zaps, dizzyness, confusion, chills, vertigo, vision disturbances, and ringing in the ears (more like the sound of a deafening waterfall invading my brain every time I move my head too quickly). Emotionally I think I am doing ok. I haven't gotten super depressed or anything, but I have been a bit weepy, although I could attribute that to the fact that my period is due any day now. The physical sensations have been wreaking havoc with my health anxiety, though. I seriously feel like I am dying of about seven horrible diseases right now. Still, I have come this far. It can't go on much longer, right?

I haven't posted in so long. I wonder if anyone out there still reads this thing? My Christmas was ok. I have just been working alot and very tired and a bit overwhelmed. I am particularly concerned about the upcoming week as I worked yesterday, today, and will work every day until next friday. For those of you not into doing the math, that is 8 days straight. I think I need to pull my boss aside and politely request to not be scheduled for more that 5 days in a row. I mean, I am proud of myself that I am now capable of working and I think that it is really great and all, but I am not freaking superwoman, you know!

I see Dr. Steenblock on feb 3rd and I am not looking forward to telling him that I quit taking my meds. I wonder what he will say. Is there even a point in seeing a psychiatrist if you are not going to take any meds?

I DID finally call my therapist to make an appointment. I have been so busy with work and Christmas that I havent seen her since mid november. I could really stand some therapyright about now.

Ok I have more to say but to be honest the tyoing isnt going very well at the moment. Hope you are all having a good 2012 so far!