It’s a little bit like dating.

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I feel like the waiting period to start a new medication can sometimes feel like the anticipation of a first date. Why? Well. Any first date you’re nervous. Will you get along? Will things click? Could this be THE one?

Well that’s how I feel about starting this new med. What ifs start.

But I wonder…will it work? Could I feel better? Normal?

Or what if it’s a date from hell?

What if the worse happens.

This new med I start tomorrow, Viibryd while has it’s standard list of possible side effects. Actually pretty typical of depression/anxiety meds. For those of you not in the know these can include…

Diarrhea
Nausea
Vomiting
Trouble sleeping

But. The more research you do you find there can be some more serious side effects like easy to anger, mania, depression, suicidal thoughts or actions, weight gain…ect ect ect. And while I am a worrier anyway i have to know what side effects to lookout for. I know that the lexapro gave me a slight manic episode when I first started it. I know this now looking back. But in the moment i just felt AMAZING.

I know better than to expect the magic fix. That I’ll feel better the day I start taking it. But I still feel the anticipation. Wondering. Will this help? Or only open my world to a new level of hell.

Only time will tell.

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New meds.

Well. The last few weeks have not been so good. Depression. Anxiety. Panic attacks. Sobbing like a little baby for half the day.

Bright spot was seeing my amazing nephews and niece this weekend. Although it was exhausting keeping up the happy aunt vibe when all I wanted to do was sit in a corner.

Today brought therapy. I know I have a hard time speaking up for myself. I sit in the background and feel left out. Not good enough. Not interesting enough. And I don’t know how to vocalize how I feel. I stutter and stumble over my words or stop talking if someone speaks over me. So when I met with my psychiatrist later and she not only has a habit of talking a lot. And over people leaving me feeling small. But when I admitted that I sometimes take an extra 2.5mg of Valium over what she prescribed a few times and she gave me a hard time over it. It left me sobbing in her office.

Once again I make a mess of everything.

But I also told her how I’ve been feeling. That I’m really depressed. I don’t feel like the meds are helping. And she actually I’m the end gave me a script for the 2.5mg 3x a day (7.5mg total daily) for the Valium. Keeping the 25mg hydroxyzine in the morning and at night (50mg total daily). And we are trying out Viibyrd. Which means a taper off lexapro this week then starting 10mg Viibryd next week and increasing to 40mg within 3 weeks.

But. One thing she said really really bothers me. That you are not born with anxiety it happens to you.

Seriously?!!

I know that it is something I was born with. I’ve always had it. For as long as I can remember. And I realize this more and more as I go through the journey. And for her of all people to say that honestly bothers me to the point of anger.

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Silence

While I’ve not lacked in things to write about my internet has been turned off. I suppose the ability to pay the bill would help. But atleast I have the luxury of my phone. Writing on it though is a pain and a half.

Things have not been so good. Anxiety is at an all time high. Taking over. I don’t like it. And the reduction on the Valium isn’t helping and I’m taking more than I should.

I feel like everything is falling apart and I don’t know how to fix it….

Letting it go.

Ha. As if. My mind sure won’t let me.

Today I finally received my letter of termination from my job. Now I’d known about this for sometime as a relative also works at this place and she told my parents who told me.

Apparently the reason I never received the letter when it was sent was because they sent the f**king letter to an address I’ve not lived at in 2 years. Not to mention I had updated my address when I moved from that address to my last apartment and again when I moved to where I live now and had been getting all other mail at my current address from them. (I know this as they sent a photocopy of the original envelope with the wrong address and post date and return dates).

WTF.

No. Seriously. WTF.

Then to add to the insult the actual letter says I have until 11am April 14 to turn in my keys or be charged $25 for each. Well gosh I never got the letter and turned them in after that date. So now I have to call and make sure that mess is cleared up.

I’m beyond angry. I wish I could let it all go but I can’t.

I’m so mad because they basically pushed me into a break down with such a hostile work environment over the past 6 months. And as much as I tried to speak up I wasn’t heard.

All the vindictive things I can do flash through my head. But I hold it in. Tomorrow I will make a polite call. And try and get the last of this cleared up. And move on.

Some relief…

Even though I’ve really not had that much to do recently. I feel like I’ve been running around crazy since last week.

Final DSS appointment was taken care of. Just need to stop back with the last of my paperwork and get my Medicaid card. Whew. Already was given my card and food stamps for the month. Thankfully. Atleast it makes getting food in the house easier.

Met the psychiatrist Monday. She decided to keep me on my 20mg lexapro for now, adding 50mg a day of hydroxyzine, 25mg in the mornings and the other 25 at night. Man it makes me sleepy. But it seems to keep the anxiety lower for now which means less Valium…5mg split in two for the day. No more propranolol since it’s dropping my blood pressure enough for them to be concerned.

I’m not sure how I feel about staying on the lexapro. But I’ll give it the next few weeks with the new meds and see how it’s going.

I can’t begin to explain how happy I am we decided to adopt our old man. Rōjin has been amazing for me. He’s so sweet and loving. He seems to sense when I’m getting amped up and comes and sits with me. Or will show me he wants to go for a walk. When I take him out I don’t feel that horrible anxiety like when I go out alone.

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Stop picking on me!

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Ok so no one is really picking on me. In fact. A pretty select few even know that I’m currently in the process of getting assistance from DSS. So why do I feel like every picture like this or post about “deadbeats living off the system when they are fully able to work” is directed at me?

My Facebook feed has no more or less of these posts than usual. In fact I’ve been known to make a few of those posts myself.

Truth is I feel guilty. I know what I’m doing is what is best for ME and that’s what matters. I need this time to get better. Not that I honestly even think I could make it through a full day of work even if I tried to go.

I hate when I feel paranoid like this. Thankfully tomorrow brings my first appointment with the psychiatrist and I pray that also means new meds and some true relief. Then I have to remind myself. This may take time. Finding the right med/meds for me. Something that will continue working. But I have hope.

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Rōjin. My sweet senior dog. How lucky I am that he’s come into our lives. This old man helps me so much every day.

Never did I think I’d spend hours looking up massage therapy for dogs with arthritis. Making sure he’s getting out for short walks often to keep him from getting to stiff. Researching supplements for his arthritis. Finding a good treatment for his poor dry skin.

But most of all. I’ve loved watching this old man just blossom. He went from a tired old depressed dog. To a happy, goofy, playful, loving old man. As much as he’s helping me. I know I’m helping him too. And it helps.

The Ups and Downs

Tuesdays appointment with my therapist when really well. And I left feeling really good. Even up to suggesting stopping by the pet shop to maybe pick up a couple guppies for the frogs tank.

The Other Half suggested we make a stop by the local SPCA just to visit the animals and play with the dogs a little. Which I was excited to do. So we stopped in. Met some sweet cats with lots of head rubs and purrs, and some very lovey dogs.

One in particular we just couldn’t stop loving on. As we were getting ready to leave he gave us the saddest “please take me home” eyes. We went back to say goodbye one more time and realized the shelter had actually waived his adoption fees due to him being quite old.

An hour later we walked out with out new “old man”. His name is still to be decided. Since his name from the shelter is far to close to the Other Half’s. He’s been a blessing to me. He is the push I need to go outside everyday. And he will let me just hold and lay on him when I’m having a hard time.

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Hopes were dashed about getting some relief after seeing the nurse yesterday. She couldn’t give me any prescriptions until I’ve met with the psychiatrist, which of course the earliest I could get in to see one is Monday.

This news, plus learning the propranolol is dropping my blood pressure enough that the nurse advised me to not take it. (96/60 I believe). Sent me into a panic attack. I held it in almost until the Other Half came to pick me up.

He then decided we should go back to the walk-in. Which we did. An hour and a half later…and anxiety attacks the entire time I was there. I left with atleast a prescription for some Valium just to get me through till Monday.

Whew.

Another trip to DSS today was rough. But I did it. Most of my paperwork is in, and I have one more thing to turn in and I will atleast have my Medicaid and food stamps. God. Saying that makes me feel horrible. Never did I think I would be on public assistance. But. I know it’s what I have to do right now.

Frustratingly though every step forward I take it feels like I find out about five more I need to take before I get to where I need to go.

I just keep reminding myself…it’s one step at a time. And to breath.