Deal with it...

Deal with it. If I thought I could I wouldn't be ignoring avoiding my Facebook page, with all the wonderful friends I've found there. I wouldn't be listening to people tear me down while I'm fairly certain I can't get any lower. It is only getting worse, each second, all day.

This is what I have decided the monster in my head looks like. It's devouring everything, my thoughts, my emotions (which are returned in a most confusing, & overblown fashion), but it has eaten every drop of my sanity. I must be fair to this monster that has taken up residence in my mind however, by saying it's had help in the form of NO Paxil. When I was diagnosed with all the cute stuff they said must be wrong with me to begin with I refused to be put on Paxil, I had first hand experience of the suicidal tendencies success rate of others who had been on it. It scared the ever loving fuck out of me! I never should have relented on that position.

So a "Doctor" (the quotes are intentional, I'm going to explain now) upon finally understanding that I was not going to bend on this, said why don't I prescribe Prozac at a very low dosage & see how that works. I am not a Doctor, PA, Nurse, or Pharmacist, at all, so I agreed to try the Prozac. My panic attacks were unrelenting, my concentration was   non-existent, & my job was in jeopardy, so I had to do something. The "doctor" did say it would take a few days for the meds to work into my system, & to give them time. I did. Then I learned how it must feel to live in a bubble, that's firmly anchored to the ocean floor! I have never found a sensible way to describe it to anyone. The best I do to give anyone a clue to how I felt is this: It was like being in a constant state of dreaming, nothing felt real at all, & it was as if every thing had an aura about it, a fuzziness if you will. So after two weeks of waking to a zombie like state, I had enough. I gave in and began taking an incredibly low dose of a drug I was terrified of. That was almost six years ago. Well, I also had kick-ass health insurance, shitty doc, but great insurance. 

Then the insurance went the way of the dinosaur, along with the job (which I hated anyway). So I found a new more affordable Doc, but in order to get my refills I had to go in for a office visit robbery every three months. If I cannot afford an office visit, I get no meds. Which brings me to where l am now.

                                                                            

I am disappearing, and it's so very scary. I have learned that Paxil is in the same family of drugs as the Prozac I hated so much. Not only that, but that it is more difficult, and dangerous to stop taking Paxil. I have 

not wanted so badly to punch a grown, educated woman in the face as I do now. Someone should have explained to me that I couldn't do this. Stop this medication. Ever. No one did. I have had nightmares like I did when I was alone after some horrible things happened in my life in the last few days, maybe more. I wake up soaked in sweat, like someone dumped a bucket of water on me as I slept. My son is having to learn a whole new variety of fucked up, by having him mom tell him, "Today is a bad day, please be easy". I shouldn't have to say things like this. I shouldn't feel this way. I should be excited about how my interview went today for a new job. I should be overjoyed that my Lito is better, & himself again, & I am. For very selfish reasons. He is tuned into my feelings like no other dog I own, it's lovely to have him to comfort me, & I am grateful. 

I should also be grateful that I have a direction for what has been the randomness of my blog. I will do my best to chronicle my journey through my own hell, while I try to remember me, & not get swept away by the undertow. Maybe I can help someone else who is dealing with this, & hopefully you guys can help me as well. I have to work tomorrow, I hope I don't space at the wrong times, & make it through the day. I'll let you know how it goes. ~ HBIC