Ola!nzapine

I found an interesting article about olanzapine here. It explains why people get fat on it - because it makes the body use fats as a source of energy, instead of carbs, by keeping the insulin in the blood gigh all the time. So no carbs are used for energy (well, little), instead they pile up in the body. Also, it increases body fat, but at the same time decreases lean body mass, so you get fatter.

Basically - the insulin is always high, so the body thinks it didn't get enough carbs. That's why you get carb cravings. Also, because body thinks it doesn't have enough carbs, it starts using fat for energy. But the carbs are there, and if they're not being used for energy, they get stored somewhere. Also, because it's always hungry, the body starts to store more fat (as it happens when you're on a diet, and you're always hungry, instead of burning fats the body starts storing them, because of the "famine").

Interesting.

gnirpS

I'm tired.

Like, really tired.

On Sunday I slept till 1.30 PM! and even then I only got up because my mom called to ask why I was being late for lunch.

I have trouble going to sleep (I'm too wound up) and in the morning I can't get up for the life of me. I had set 4 alarms for this morning and still got up 10 minutes before work.

Also, I'm hungry. Mostly I crave sugar. Or carbohydrates. I think it may be partly from the Olanzapine. But I stuff myself everyday with chocolate, sweets or salty sticks and pretzels.

It shows too, of course... those 4 kg I got by stuffing with Mars bars didn't go away, on the contrary - I think I might have gotten 2 more.

Hm, but now I'm starting to think the two might be connected... the fatigue and the CH overdose. Hm.

I keep planning to eat less, but then I get hungry. And then I tell myself I'd rather have a few kg more and be happy then be really thin and depressed.

I got over the shock of the therapist quite quickly, actually. I was really surprised. I spent the weekend with my sis and came back home refreshed and calm, almost soothed. And last week was pretty good, actually. But the weekend saw me slipping down again.

But, also, I managed to meditate a little bit, and it is very refreshing. Sitting down and trying to stay erect hurts a bit, but when I open my eyes it feels ok.

So I have good days and bad days; and while good days are really good, bad ones are still quite bad.

(Today is one of those really bad ones. My limbs are heavy and my brain is like frozen. And I can't really think of a good way to finish this post.)

Fear

Scared, scared, scared.
Want to curl into a ball and hide, hide, hide.

So I went to the psychiatrist expecting a new medicine, and instead it turns out I lost her.
Well, not yet, but she said she doesn't know what to do with me.
And that makes her person nr.7 who couldn't help me.

Scared, scared, scared. Hide, hide, hide.

I feel a milion miles away from everybody else. And everytime I try to reach out and the person out there doesn't reach back, the distance grows a few miles longer.

Am I really that broken, that nobody can help me with my pain?

Scared, scared, scared. Hurt, hurt, hurt. Hide, hide, hide.

Anyway, she suggested I get hospitalized at some psych facility, for 3 months of intensive psychotherapy. I googled it a bit and it doesn't sound all that bad.

But, I wonder, could it really help me? And going for 3 months to a psych hospital! What do I tell people? The rumor will spread and I'm afraid I will lose people I know (couldn't call them friends, but yeah).

Why is she so set on this Zoloft? I mean, would it hurt to try another AD, instead of telling me I am medicated enough and it should be helping, when it's not?

Girl, interrupted

I guess an update is long overdue. I don't feel like writing as much as I did then, but reading the older posts made me realize it's important to somehow follow the progress. And today I finally feel like I have something to say.

So things were really bad. Then they got beter, then worse, then better again, then really bad, then really better, and now I'm slipping downwards again.
Although, in overall, I guess the trend is that of going upwards. I just wish the downs weren't such a pain in the ass.
But the ups are way better, and the downs are a bit easier, even if it's just slightly.
It's such a great feeling when you try using your brain and it actually works!

I can't help but smile when I remember I thought St.John's wort was gonna be enough :) All the bad episodes so far have been interrupted by introducing a new medication, or a higher dose of it. As of today I'm on 100mg sertraline, 300mg bupropion and 2,5mg olanzapine.
And I guess that's not even the final combination, given the state I'm currently slipping in.

I'm sometimes upset with the psychiatrist and really angry, because she makes me feel like I don't try hard enough. I feel like she lets me slip really low before altering my medication protocol. It seems like I can't make her understand I know myself and my feelings enough to know when I need more help than just a, "you're doing good".
Yeah, I guess my progress is OK, and it does feel like I sweat blood for it, but that's really not the point; the point is I'm not stable enough, yet, to be able to work on myself. And so when I tell her that, the first thing she thinks is that I'm looking for an easy way out, which, OF COURSE I AM, doh. It's not like I enjoy feeling THIS bad.

I'm happy to have dropped the she-therapist. She is, now that I can look at it objectively, so not suitable to be a therapist. She's not objective and includes way too much of herself into therapy. And she doesn't let you get better in your own pace, she pressures you, I guess ultimately to make herself feel succesful. And, I think she wasn't 100% honest with me.
I realize now that those are her problems, not mine. And while I don't judge her for having that problems, it's totally human, I think she should've worked harder on herself before starting to therapy others. Or at least, realize she's not well yet.

The Pope is good. Although a lot of the times I feel I don't want to go to the session. But so far almost every time it turned out to be a good session. I also broadened the interval between sessions to 2 weeks; a bit because of money and a bit because in this way I pressure myself less and I don't pin my moods to weekly sessions, like I did with she-t. I came to realize pinning my mood on persons, events or things I do is not the way to go; although sometimes it helps, I can't really function like that long term. I need to reach such stability that my mood won't be altered by outside things so much, neither in a good way nor in a bad way. It was kinda scary to realize that I've been doing that for the last 15 years or so... and that it will take a while to teach my mind not to do that anymore.

I'm also happy to have dropped the self-help group. Turns out it's not all that helpful afterall. It helps in understanding you're not an alien because of your mood disorder, but it lacks a professional coordinator. People who are instable, mixed together without a buffer, are hell. The woman that's supposed to be the group leader has a good heart and all the best intentions, but I came to realize getting better is not about someone telling you what you need to do to get better and then pressuring you to do it, NOW! It's about getting better in your own rhytm, when you can and in a way you can.

I'm starting to realize how important is to listen to yourself and to fine tune with your feelings. I'm also realizing the role of medication is exactly this - helping me actually hear myself, through all that noise of anxiety, sadness, anger and racing thoughts.
I'm learning (again - I've known all this about 12 years ago, but it slipped my mind, somehow) to let myself and my subconscious work things out. How to be patient, assess things and let them work out mostly by themselves, without general pressure, applying pressure only where needed and only as much as needed.
I knew all that rationally, but I couldn't feel it. But it seems the more I accept it, and myself, and the more I feel it, the more I can do it.

Still, it's SO difficult, and painful, to stay still when your body is responding with 'fight or flight' and the mind is racing 'gogogo'.
And it's SO difficult being patient when I want to be better NOW and not in a few years.
And it's SO horrible realizing that still my relating to others is nowhere near good and that I'm still an island.

I also realized I don't know how to just be. It's like my mind doesn't know how to be in BE mode, feeling whatever, either good or bad. When it's bad, it's 'gogogo' do something to stop feeling this bad; and when it's good, it's 'gogogo' to recuperate everything I (may have) missed while feeling bad.
And it's nearly impossible not being angry at myself for still being this way and not having been able to get out of it sooner or less painfully.

Eppur si muove.

I will admit tho - on one hand it's interesting, this journey, but on the other, I HATE it. I hate it that I'm like this and that I have to deal with all the garbage from the past. I wish my mother hand't been such a wuss and helped me, instead of just waiting what will happen; I wish my father hadn't been so absent and had noticed something was wrong; I wish that someone, anyone, would have noticed something was off.
And I'm angry, I'm livid, that I've been left to my premises since... since always, I guess.
And I don't know how to forgive others for that. Or if I want to forgive.

Other things I'm learning:

- how to organize my life around depression (come to think of it I've always done the opposite, try to fit depression around my life - no go),
- how mindfulness can help with that (now, with all this medication, I can finally relax and meditate again),
- how to enjoy my dogs (by dropping all activities that put even a slight pressure on me or them),
- how to teach big dog to stay calm around other dogs (by marking and rewarding feelings, not behavior),
- how to play tug with little dog (dropping all expectations and simply playing "I'll steal this from you"),
- that my job is STRESSFUL (I daresay way more than an average job),
- but that I don't hate it as much as I can't cope with the pressure (not only of responsibility but everything else, connected to various relationships on the job).

That, and I had a TALK with my parents. I was so high from it I actually thought, for a few days, that all is well. Turns out ot so much. But at least it's a start.

Pure emotion

I don't feel much like writing, as that involves thinking, and feeling, and I'm trying to avoid it at the moment.
But I don't want to abandon this blog either. So just a quick update.

So I went to the psychiatrist last week, and surprised myself with all the crying I did in her office. I really didn't know I was in that bad of a state.
And even after that, for the rest of the day, I was so upset, I cried like a river.
So in the night I kept waking up and putting chamomille on my eyes to reduce the puffiness, so I could go to work in the morning.
But it felt so good, getting it all out... it was like, pure emotion, THIS is how I really feel... I'm so tired of pretending I'm fine... I feel BAD, I feel hopeless...

So she prescribed Zoloft (she said it was very mild, and I went huh??? so in what state should I be to be prescribed something more?), 5 minutes of singing and dancing each day, a quick walk dog-less each day, going out for coffee with someone twice a week and to a concert, movie, theatre every two weeks.

It sounded a bit patronizing, and I was really angry with her for not taking me seriously.
But then later, after getting it all out, to my mom and my sister (I think I scared mom a bit when she said I should be strong and hold, on, and I wailed, 'I have nothing to hold on to!'), I realized I'm... tired of taking care of this by myself.
So maybe I'll try and believe her that in 6 months she can make me feel better.

The important

What I'm so excited about yesterday's stdt is that she doesn't want to push me. Which might take some time and effort, working a way around my walls, but she doesn't push me. I say "I don't know" and she says, it's ok, you don't need to know.

And she doesn't judge.

She-t pushes me. And is invasive. And she expresses her opinion a lot.
So now she's on my side, and makes me understand she cares.
But sometimes she's too much.

The last time she pushed, about two months ago, she scolded me and told me off, said I must stop using my child and start using my adult in sessions (transactional analysis stuff). And she was very happy with herself.
(but it doesn't make sense to me; the child is the one that needs help, not the adult - so why work on the adult?)

And last time she said that since then I've been much more active in sessions.

OK so maybe I am. But the time she pushed I felt bad, like, really bad. Really invaded. And ok so maybe it helped our sessions, but, it didn't help me in the long term... I mean, I don't know why I resisted her so much; I didn't learn much from it, so next time I resist someone in a similar way, I won't know what to do; and she scared me.

And it feels so strange, when she says, 'yeah my supervisor wouldn't approve of this', and I'm like, 'wtf are you telling me this?'.

Stdt speaks about connection, and I think she understands the importance of not pushing (kinda like positive dog training!), and patience.

But, I don't feel her, yet; so far I still need she-t. Even with all the bad stuff I just listed.

How complicated can it get?

Still, I need to be patient with myself... not hurry and push myself, trying to find a way out of this mess, even though I so wish I already would :(

The therapist

Today at stdt it was kinda funny. I was terribly sleepy, but relaxed still. We talked about the anxiety attack and whatnot, and we ended up sitting on the table by the wall, facing in the same direction, just looking at the opposite wall.

At first I was uncomfortable. She was really silent. And so neither of us said anything, we just laughed when our eyes met.
But then she explained that she feels that if she said anything it would be too much pressure on me, so she doesn't really know what to say. And I didn't know what to say either.
So we spent most of the session sitting there in silence, staring at the wall.

And it was strange, and funny, but I was relaxed.
And she said she feels ok, just sitting there, looking at the wall, each of us in her own head but that she felt connected. And she said I didn't need to tell her how I felt, just if I was ok, and I told her I was.

So as I was leaving I was still unsure if I wanted to drop her and stick with she-t.
And then I realized I could compromise - I could keep both! Just alternating them, one each week. So I don't go bankrupt.
I'm not sure it will be effective, but at least I can try.

And, I feel maybe I could tell her about it. Because I feel I can't tell it to she-t.
But still I can't leave her. I need her too.
Such a strange situation.

Recap

The last days were... well, kinda exhausting.

I'm even more unsure about the new therapist (stdt).
As I was walking to the session on Thursday (it's so close I felt it would be realy pretentious to drive) I suddenly let myself feel what I felt and act what I feel, and that is, my "push away" technology - and let her deal with that...
It's not that she's not nice, but... I just don't feel her. She's somehow like my second therapist (he-t). Distant. Very formal. And yet she's very much like my current therapist (she-t), with her ideas and approach. Like, I tell her I'm swept away by chaos in my head, and she says, 'well try to stand up and feel your feet on the ground'.
Wtf??? I don't need this from her. I need her to help me sort this chaos out. Not just cope with it.
And I've been having good sessions with she-t lately. Even tho I come there all cranky and irritated and confrontational, and try to pull away, but then I really want to let her close and get closer to her.
We have some kind of dynamics where I bounce my thoughts off her and realize new things by myself.
But I really wanted someone who, upon me realizing these things, could help me solve them. And she-t can't.
But maybe it's not time to solve them yet? Or, what if I'm just scared of stdt, and should continue?
So, anxiety level about this is still high.

Then, Friday I spent with my family, we picked grapes and I had a fabulous time. And on Saturday I was supposed to go to the seaside with my friend, for the whole day. And I didn't know what to do, I felt like I wanted to stay home with my family on Saturday too, but then I wasn't sure if maybe I was avoiding and needed to go, just to prove myself I could do it... so I had a bad anxiety attack, stayed up until 4 AM and slept only for a couple of hours, then sent her a text I wasn't going (saying I wasn't feeling well - actually I wasn't, just it wasn't physical but in my mind) and feeling like the worst person in the world to stand her up like that, what kind of friend am I?
(very very bad, I know)

But Saturday, in spite of lack of sleep and the anxiety of the night before, I had a grand time again.
So who can say?

And Saturday evening I went with my sister to her friend's, she had her birthday, and it wasn't so bad. Even tho social anxiety was high. But maybe less high than usual.

Sunday I had a pet therapy event and it went well too, even though the dog got scared of some popping baloons and I had to take him away.

But I was amazed that, even though I was tired and after-anxious, I was able to focus on the moment, all days.

I feel like maca is helping, or maybe primrose oil (apparently it's supposed to help with chronic fatigue)? I finally found a way to eat it without being sick, I mix it with cocoa and milk, and it hides the hideous taste. But I still think I'll try to find capsules or something for the next time...

Yesterday was so-so, work was good but then I came home and couldn't go out again; even though I should have gone to the library to return books, and to buy milk and yoghurt, and to take the dogs for a longer walk... but I just couldn't. I played tetris and bubbles all afternoon. Then I couldn't even shower. I just went to sleep around 11. And still had trouble getting up at 7, so I got up too late and had to eat breakfast at work.

But in general, I feel like I'm better, like I'm moving somewhere. And for more time than before I feel like I can.
And for longer than before I'm able to stay focused in the moment. And that's good.

Under pressure

I've made plans to go to the beach today, and to the seaside Saturday for the whole day, and I don't want to go.

There is another agility competition on October 8th, and I said I'll probably go, but I don't want to.

Also I've chosen some apartments to go look at, and I don't want to do that either.

I want to stay hidden in my room.

Which doesn't make much sense either.

I'm trying to avoid anxiety and I'm creating more anxiety by that. But even if I didn't try avoiding, I'd still be anxious.

And I'm angry about something, and I don't know what it is.
Is it the avoidance? Is it because I'm not fighting the avoidance? Is it the changing of therapist that I don't want to do, but think that I should?

At work there's talk of replacing lunch money with food stamps (which would only be useable here - and just now when I'm trying to eat healthier, and eating here doesn't really help me with that), introducing payable parking spots and unfair things happening in other departments, and I'm scared about what will be... I feel like I want to escape, change jobs, and right after that I feel how this is too big for me, changing jobs and everything, and where would I go anyway, and would things be better? probably not... but it's not easy to resign to stay here either.
Maybe I should trust that I'll be ok no matter what, and that I'll change when I'm ready to (which right now I'm definitely not...).
I'm trying so hard not to be negative about this job, but I feel like there's just not enough love in me to like this place, so full of hostility... well, not enough love in me to protect me from all the negative energy here.

This morning I drank down maca with apple juice, and still, dear god how bad it tastes... tomorrow less juice and less maca, so I can drink it faster. I'm thinking of maybe trying it with milk.

Also, this pack of rolled oats I bought, they're strange! I mean, the last one was different? These oat flakes, it's like they don't absorb water, they fall apart and excrete a lot of some kind of mucus? After I eat them I don't feel all that full. I don't know, it's strange.

Personal space

Yesterday was therapy session nr.2. Well, formally it was the first one, since the last time it was mostly an introductory session.

We did a fun game of personal space where we stood across the room from each other and she took steps towards me, after each step asking me if I was ok. I stopped her after 3 steps, and then she marked my space with a piece of rope. We played a little with how I felt if I was close to the edge, or when she was close to it. Then we settled at a distance, me inside the space and she outside. She made a point of telling me that she would never ever cross the line.
I came up with Ronia the robber's daughter metaphor for my alienation from the world. And I cried a lot.
I don't like it that I cry so much in the first sessions, always. I can't really help it and maybe it tells something to the therapist, but still.

We didn't talk about anxiety, but I think it will take some practice for me to tell her what I need to get out. I mean I expected that, it took me a while for it to happen with the previous therapist and I knew I wouldn't be able to do it right away from the first time.

She made a nice observation that I'm still pondering about. I was talking about how I try to keep my emotions down, and she said, "Could it be that those emotions are like a link, a bridge to other people?" and I was, "Oh! Hmmm..."

Anyway, there were a few bad points. First, she was late, but she apologised profusely, explained and promised it will never happen again (and I was late too anyway). Then her phone rang, but she shut it right off (bonus points to her). And lastly, a woman came into the room to tell her about the key and interrputed us badly (but she couldn't have foreseen it and she said she will hang a do not disturb sign on the door).

Also, she didn't have any handkerchiefs - but neither did I, I didn't expect to cry so much...

So we'll see how it goes, although I don't have a bad feeling, yet. She made mistakes, but I think she was sorry and will try correcting them. She's really not pushy. And we had a laughing moment while standing on the edge of my space.

Today I have a session with my previous therapist and I need to tell her I will stop coming, oh my, wonder how I'll pull THAT off...