Thank you, Mr. Cosby

I've been finding out about more and more things that I experienced and have no memory of thanks to ECT. It is not something I can really explain. Knowing that months of your life are blacked out, especially when you find out about the really good things, is heartbreaking.

This memory loss has gotten me thinking about victims of sex crimes who were drugged or drunk. I feel some weird sense of empathy toward those people. The brain is a complicated thing and part of the complexity is memory.

These thoughts bring me to the subject of an article I read today. It was about how, starting next year, California will no longer have a statute of limitations on sex crimes. This is all thanks to Mr. Bill Cosby and his predatory nature. If one good thing was to come out of his evil ways, states changing their statute of limitations on sex crimes is one of them.

A wee bit of a laugh

For a brief change of pace, I thought I'd take this moment to reveal the wee bit of humor I have toward my illness.

I have an alarm set on my iPhone for the two times of day when I take my pills. The song I chose for it is The Rolling Stone's "Mother's Little Helper". Now, I may not be a mother, but the pill popping theme is relatable, in a kind of humorous way.

I also found a pillbox that makes me chuckle. Some my find it offensive or sacrilegious, but it has made me smile. See the pills in Jesus' hands? Come on, it's funny.

Now back to my regularly scheduled anxiety induced nausea. 

 

Taking a step back

A few nights ago, on Wednesday, I had to take a step back. The anxiety was so bad, I wasn't doing well at all. Shawn urged me to go back on the Ativan. That was one of the drugs I had been off of for a week and a half at that point. I was afraid to do it without calling the Doc, so I called and left a message, but took the pill anyway. She called me back shortly and told me to take one and actually, to double up on it. And, away I went...to sleep.

Having the Ativan back is nice, but anxiety still manages to rear its ugly head, and it is really, really large and ugly.

And away we go

As my therapist said today, I need to give med changes a chance...and, O₂ is really important so I should work on my breathing as much as I can. All of this was on a morning of great anxiety.

I woke up to Jarvis and let Shawn sleep. These last 6 months or so, Shawn has been letting me sleep. Since that is one, of many things, I feel guilty about with regard to Shawn's caregiving role, I just did it. Jarvis and I went for a walk and I did a stint on the treadmill before waking Shawn up.

After a shower, I sat down with all the anxiety inducing thoughts that were building up since getting out of bed.

These jeans don't fit right. I can't start shopping for a bigger size. I need to fit in the clothes I have. I really shouldn't have all this weight on me. I'm getting close to the heaviest I've ever been. I really should vacuum. How would Jarvis act if I use the carpet powder crap to freshen things up? Will he try to lick it up? UGH. All this different shit needs to be moved out of the way to vacuum. I don't feel like doing all of that. Laundry needs to be put away and laundry needs to be done. Who wants to do that shit? It's such a chore. OMG. Dinner needs to be made. If I get tonight's made, that doesn't help me with tomorrow. I hate being responsible for coming up with dinner. God, I have all this pressure in making a choice for someone else and hoping he is okay with it. What if it's a terrible? Sometimes, even after I've made the decision and I've cooked it, I don't want to eat what I make. How do I keep from making the same few things over and over? How do I come up with new things when I don't want to be responsible for this? Cooking at home needs to be a priority to save us money. It should also be helping our health. I should be doing more about both of our weight. What if something happens to Shawn? I can't even begin to think about what I would do. I'm so dependent on him. OMG. He needs to get healthier. That cough is lingering. He needs to go back to the doctor. What kind of work am I going to even try to get when the time comes? How do I get myself employable? We have to travel to CLE for the Comic Convention in March. We are both going to be so uncomfortable on the plane. Why did Jarvis jump at and scratch the neighbor kid? He's always let the kid pet him. How do I not have anxiety regarding Jarvis now? It was such an upsetting experience. I'm glad the kid's mom was so understanding and kind, but I still have an awkward feeling contributing to my anxiety. Donald Trump is actually a candidate for President. This makes me nauseous. I honestly don't know how to handle this. What if he actually wins? Seriously, how is this real life? How is this mess of anxiety going to begin to be addressed in a psych hour? When will I be through all of this shit? Are the med changes going to finally work? At what point do we actually consider a lobotomy? I wish I was kidding, but, since I am going through ECT, which I thought was far fetched, I'm not sure it's such a joke anymore. I've talked about wanting to do inpatient ECT, again, not kidding as much as I would like. Here's why I like ECT, a day of ECT is a day lost. I don't have time in my head.

One week

I cannot say that there has been much of an improvement with me since the entry from a week ago. It's been a week dealing with the med changes. So, one week with only 3 medications. The two we removed are officially out of my system at this point I guess. As for the one we are increasing, the 50 mg increase has been a week now and will go for another week. Then, we bump it another 50 mg. I do not hold out hope. I've learned not to do that.

I'm not the only one not working

The latest taper ended last night. It was my last night taking my cocktail of 5 different psych meds. Tonight, the new 3 medication cocktail begins. One of those three meds is starting at a gradual increase. I will take that med at one dose for 2 weeks and then bump it up by 50 mg after that.

Along with this, ECT is going to every 2 weeks. Shawn is all about this. I, on the other hand, feel like I should probably be a resident. Just like drugs, I see this as another failure. NOTHING WORKS.

I didn't even want to get out of bed today. My life is quite empty. I have no job. Aside from family, I have two people I would spend time with if I actually lived near them. Those two people have been friends of mine over half my life. Friends I made here are just Facebook contacts at this point. Coworkers that I was friends with have moved, or we just stopped hanging out together once we stopped working together.

Suggestions are made to me about going out to pursue hobbies and interests. "How about this, that, or the other thing?" "Hey, how about vomit, diarrhea, or hyperventilating?"