born to try

Updating on yesterday's post, I'm feeling slightly stronger. I laid it all on the line to Doc A and he was angry I hadn't let him know sooner. I told him I struggle with my identity in therapy - for instance, he often tells me I am the "perfect" patient, or a "good" patient, and I hate to let him down and lose that validation. I don't want to admit to him that I am suffering suicidal thoughts, or languishing in the doldrums. It's really stupid. Honesty is the cornerstone of therapy, after all, so I'm accomplishing nothing by lying or avoiding the truth.

Anyway, after asking a lot of questions about potential triggers and behaviours, Doc A decided that this latest slump of mine is not BPD related, and in fact is "simple" biological depression. So the solution is medication tweaking - I am testing out 120mg of Cymbalta daily for the next week and if that has no effect I have a prescription for Lamotrigine/Lamictal. Which I would take in addition to the Cymbalta. I feel kind of trendy, even being considered for Lamotrigine, because I know a few other bloggers who take it and it seems to be quite successful. Apparently there is a well-known side effect of "Lamotrigine rash", and if that occurs I have to stop taking it. I'm hoping that the extra Cymbalta does the trick, because that way I have the Lamotrigine in reserve for any future episodes. It truly sucks the way that medication "poops out" (Doc A says this is the technical term LOL) and our brain chemistry works its way around our meds. I wish it was as simple as finding one medication and sticking to it for the rest of my life. I know I'm not alone, but in the last seven years I've taken eight different anti-depressants and an anti-psychotic. Apart from the meds, I've also tried Kava, St John's Wort and Valerian. Then when you add to that the hypnotherapy, acupuncture, Chinese medicine, naturopathy, etc, it's all a little overwhelming. I know y'all can relate!!

I ended up telling Neil about my suicidal thoughts; even though I knew it would worry him I couldn't keep lying. I'm pathologically honest these days after The Marriage That Truth Forgot. He was concerned, and interested in what Doc A had to say, and ultimately said he was happy I had confided in him. We're both confident that the extra medication will help level out my moods.

In other health news, I have an appointment with Dr Paul (my lupus specialist) on June 29th and am on the waiting lists at three hospitals for my gastroscopy/colonoscopy to check for ulcers/polyps/etc. I've been on iron supplements for a couple of weeks and I feel slightly less tired (which could be the caffiene tablets I'm taking!) and breathless. I feel like my health, both mental and physical, is a waiting game at the moment. Just need to be patient and see how it pans out... Need I point out that patience is NOT one of my virtues (-:

Thank you so much to everyone who commented on yesterday's post, and to Linda who posted a great song on her blog for me. It means so much that people are listening and understanding xx

(NB: Born To Try is a song by an Aussie called Delta Goodrem, who I believe appeared on the US version of Dancing With The Stars recently.)

down among the dead men

Sometimes it's a hard life. I'm really struggling today, and had to take not one but two Valium in order to calm myself down enough to stay at work. All I could think about was running away. Pills, alcohol, car accidents, suicide, hospitals. Now, in the deadened calm of the diazepam, I just feel hollow and numb. Relief. I've been listening to some comedy TV shows on my iPhone to try and penetrate the gloom. Thankfully, I have my monthly appointment with Doc A this afternoon so am leaving work an hour early. I'm going to ask for more Valium (he reluctantly gave me a 20 tablet script last month which I haven't used yet but I'm worried I am going to need more). I'm wondering if he'll offer me more Cymbalta, as I'm on 90mg daily and there's evidence a higher dose might work better. I think I need a referral to a psychologist to work more intensely on CBT.

The suicidal ideation and self-harm is a real concern for me. It's been getting worse over the last few weeks. The other day I gathered all the pills in the house (and there are a lot, as Neil's mum gives us packets of her prescription-only high strength pain medication - don't ask me why!) and seriously considered taking them. I wanted to sleep forever, or end up away from everything in hospital. I'm annoyed with myself for the urge to run away. In the end, I could not do that to Neil. His dad gassed himself in the family car when Neil was in his 20s and ten years later his brother eventually hung himself after a few attempted overdoses. When he finally succeeded, it was Neil who went around to the house and found his brother's body. I just can't do that to him again. He deserves better than me. I wish I was healthy for him as well as for me.

I wonder what he must really think of me, now that we live together and he sees my daily struggle. Struggle to get out of bed, wash, dress, go to work, cook, clean, converse... Do I remind him of his dead brother, weak father, depressed mother... Does he compare me to his previous crackpot girlfriends... I don't doubt he loves me, but I worry sometimes how easy it is for pity to creep in.

Flash 'n the Pan had a hit in 1978 with a song by the same title as this post.

forever is a long, long time when you lost your way

Today's post title is from my favourite Guitar Hero song "Lasso" by Phoenix. My roommate Michelle bought a Nintendo Wii a few weeks back and it's really been more fun that I imagined. I am especially loving the music games, as I am a frustrated karaoke queen, and am a lot better on guitar than I thought I'd be. It's nice just to kick back and have fun with Michelle anyway. We realised yesterday that we've been living in our skanky Juliette Lewis duplex for a year now -- and so much has changed during that time. We were both single back then, and now are seeing really great guys, and we were both in a more precarious mental state than we are (mostly!) now. I think living there has been good for me, she definitely inspired me to start internet dating and look how well THAT turned out.

Neil and I are still blissing out on each other and having a lot of fun. We've been extremely social lately, having had two weddings, a hen's/buck's night and a 40th birthday to go to. They were all his friends, of whom he has many, but I'm starting to feel like I fit in with them and they're all pretty welcoming. Neil also rocks because he bought me some new clothes to wear for all these outings as I was feeling a bit "blah" about my wardrobe. He earns a lot more than me, but I still felt uncomfortable about him spending money on me... His previous girlfriend scored a new car from him, as well as a stack of other stuff she didn't deserve (miaow! LOL) and I don't want to be perceived like her. She was very materialistic, from what I can gather. My oldest friend once worked with this girl (as well as with Neil) and she doesn't have a high opinion of her. I think that my struggle to be accepted by Neil's 19 year-old son is proving to be difficult partly because of the last girlfriend.

Although work, family, friends and love life seem to be stable and nice, there are still more moments of panic/black-hole-ness than I would like. I guess it's called recovery for a reason, not "all-better-now". I had to take a Valium at work the other day, for the first time in months, which certainly worked and helped chill me out for the day so I could get through it. But I was disappointed that my regular medication, and the mental effort I am expending on "being normal", wasn't sufficient to keep the nasty away. I had bad PMT as well this month, which is common but annoying. It makes me irritable and shaky as well as the physical aches, cramps and tiredness. Neil knows about most of my mental history, and Doc A, and the meds, but I try not to always be harping on about it. He lost two close family members to suicide, and I feel so damnably guilty and selfish whenever I want to whinge about my low mood. Being with Neil has definitely shown me another side to mental illness, the survivor's side, and Michelle and I often have to adapt our conversation or anecdotes out of respect for his experience. We have both attempted suicide, and have regular suicide ideation (as Doc A would say), but try not to express it when Neil is around. He knows I have been down that road, but I figure he doesn't need reminding of it.

All in all, life is wonderful yet comes with its own minor pitfalls. I'm navigating them...so far... Being around someone kind and loving definitely helps, even though it adds a social pressure to my life in some ways. I am worried about my eating though, and my consequent weight issues. Neil loves his food, and also loves shopping, and those two things are high on my binge-list. I have to try and maintain the weight loss I achieved through my weight loss surgery three years ago, even if I can't manage to lose the rest of the excess weight. I don't want a repeat of the Mr Ex scenario where we both gained 50kg while we were together. No sir, no way.

not somebody who's seen the light

Sometimes I like to do Sudoku puzzles. I always carefully write the answers in pencil, so I can rub them out and start over, but every now and again I just can't solve it and the puzzle ends up illegible - scratched and rubbed raw. No matter how many times I try to erase and rewrite the answers, there are the odd Sudoku puzzles I just have to accept as failures. Draw a line through. Either throw them away, or turn the page and start a new one.

What if a life is like that? Are there a finite number of ways in which I can try to make things work? What if next time I try to reimagine myself and start things over, it's just too late? Maybe the bare bones of my life are so fragile and patched up that I need to draw a line through it and start a new one?

These are the things I think about.

(title from Hallelujah, all versions I think, but my favourite is Leonard Cohen's original)