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#btw I’ve tried like every ssri none worked
junglejim4322 · 2 days
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Man I’m so tired of the way I feel and operate and as insane as it sounds I find it almost more frustrating that despite the hardships, I have so much more in my life than maybe I ever have and I’m still not happy. Made way more sense when I had nothing but I really don’t anymore. Persistent pervasive depression or whatever getting added to my laundry list along with finding out what anhedonia is really does feel like a large explanation but I have no idea what to do WITH knowing that. I don’t even remember the last time I felt really truly excited about something. Which is insane like I have repaired my life from rock bottom and made genuine friends I love who love me and gotten myself out of a lot of the terror I was trapped in for years and made my first actual attempts at tackling childhood trauma and yet I’m still not happy.
And it’s not even like I’m miserable all the time I’d say my default state is low, my worst state is lower, and my best state is neutral. What used to be excitement is now usually anxiety and dread, and I seem to be less and less capable of looking forward to anything. It’s so bizarre I don’t know how to reconcile it because it also sounds like I’m walking around hating life but I’m really not I’m just almost never happy. And there are certain emotions that I feel I have a combination of a mental block with or just prevent myself from feeling like the fear I feel related to situations and people that could lead me to deeper emotions or commitments makes me go right to or flight 85% of the time but at the end of the day I really would like to want something and the lack of want feels like a huge reason I don’t take my life a step further or make moves to change things and progress. Idfk
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auk-blogs · 6 years
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Shitty things that happened when I last went inpatient
At the CSU, I was denied access to my fidget toys (I am autistic AND ADHD) even though I specifically picked out ones that couldn't possibly be harmful - a stuffed animal, a Tangle, a glitter tube, etc.
Every time I tried to inform the nurses at the nurse's station that I was feeling extremely anxious, IF I got their attention at all they would just tell me that "there's colouring pages and puzzles in the dayroom" like. No?? I actually wanted some kind of medication mayhaps a sedative because I was going fucking NUTS
I was denied my ADHD pill, Vyvanse, because and I quote directly, I wasn't "working or studying or anything." No. That's not how it works. I needed that pill in order to think in a coherent manner for more than 2 seconds.
Actually the denial of my Vyvanse might be why I was so goddamn anxious? YOU try not getting anxious when your thoughts are all over the place and just keep getting faster and faster.
The other patients kept playing horribly bloody, violent, and graphic movies. Like WHY do you even HAVE a DVD that has a scene where a pirate has to do abdominal surgery on himself with no anaesthetic?? That's just. That's just pure Trigger(TM) on a shiny DVD.
There was this ONE FUCKING PATIENT. Cheri. I will hate Cheri until the day I die. She managed to always get ahead of me in her wheelchair and she would sit and simper with her watery eyes and her wobbling lip and her wringing hands and this horrible look in her eyes... The nurses always paid more attention to Cheri than me even though I was fucking articulating that HEY I NEED HELP FOR (X) THING and Cheri refused to speak.
Sweater Guy turned my room's light off in the middle of the night. I was insomniac and reading. And also the only patient in my room. Sure it's not a crime or anything but it's really fucking annoying. I wasn't bothering anyone, why not just let me read my book in peace?
For a while the only time I saw the therapist was as she was speedwalking down the hallway to leave for the day every evening. She wouldn't even make eye contact with me.
It wasn't until I finally snapped and told them that I had figured out at least 3 ways to attempt aliven't on that ward that they finally realised that yes, I DID NEED SOME ACTUAL FUCKING HELP.
The CSU led me to believe that the next place I was going to was going to be a long term facility. I took that to mean at least a month if not more. I was ready to finally get some serious help that I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET SINCE THE END OF 2016.
The CSU had a max stay of about 3 days, btw.
Well I got to Peninsula and it turns out that "long term facility" means 5 to 7 day stay. So... Not what I was led to believe.
I was strip searched, I believe is the term. Yes, I was forced to strip pretty much naked to confirm that I wasn't bringing any contraband on my person (despite me checking in voluntarily).
Like I've related before, I was "relieved of" my comfort items - my hardcover journal, some books, and my drawings. The journal and drawings in particular had content I wanted to share with the therapist(s) at Pinensula and I never got to.
When I got anxious about not having my journal/comfort item back, the staff were very apathetic to my literal BEGGING and just basically told me to suck it up and deal with it.
For some reason hardcover books were contraband?? Like what was I gon do, give someone a whack on the head? Anyway they offered me a composition book BUT IT WASN'T MYYYY JOURNAL and as any autistic knows one cannot simply replace a comfort item with a lower quality replacement.
When I, AUK, got too anxious and overwhelmed to deal anymore - Lizzie took over and threw a massive fit. We don't think we got chemically sedated, but we did get hoodwinked into going to a more "secure" ward and then when Lizzie was still pissed off, they manhandled us into a "blank room."
In the new ward, I was relieved of my clothes, my slippers, and pretty much what was left of my dignity. I was made to wear paper scrubs instead of proper clothes.
If I wanted to use the toilet or shower, a nurse would sit at the door with it propped open watching every move I made. No privacy. I eventually only used the bathroom once every morning and only showered once while I was at that ward.
The medication lady (unsure of her status - nurse? Doctor? Idk) refused to keep weaning me off my Lexapro and instead yanked me off it entirely. I'd been on Lexapro for a good while and uh. Ever hear of SSRI withdrawal? It is HORRIBLE. I still think she was totally unprofessional about that and should have fucking known better.
I am overly sensitive to sound and nobody would turn the fucking radio off. (All it played was Christmas music, too. *shudder*)
When I asked for more food, I never got it. I was so freaking hungry by the time I was released.
I'm pretty sure that the coffee was decaf because I got out into the world again and suddenly couldn't handle even half-caf. That means that the nurses were openly lying about the caffeine content - they repeatedly said it was full caffeine coffee.
There were supposed to be groups on that unit but like ...none ever happened? It was like the staff were so busy doing stuff that I couldn't see, that they didn't have time to do their jobs with the patients.
Did I mention that the manhandling left bruises? On my upper arms and also my right buttock from where the men forced me to sit down with all 200 lbs of me onto a concrete floor. Ouchies.
On my discharge notes, somebody wrote a note telling me to stop taking my birth control (which I take to regulate horribly heavy and long periods, not because I am sexually active). The discontinuation of the birth control was never verbalised to me. Never. Not once. There wasn't even an explanation in the note either.
Pinensula put me on what they said was an anti anxiety script but I looked it up and it's actually an antipsychotic. So if you go tell someone that you're anxious, you're psychotic? Like. What? (I understand medications can be used for more than one purpose. But I've been consistently prescribed meds that don't match with my self reported symptoms, and even meds that aren't MEANT to be used for the purpose they were prescribed to me for.)
I got so overstimulated while on the unit that I begged for earplugs. They didn't help at all, even when I combined them with a pillow over my head too. And then they went and turned the radio LOUDER.
(Although not relevant to me, there was this one patient who went ballistic over a hair being on her unpeeled orange ... She had been fiddling with her hair right before eating and she was the only one with that hair texture and colour on the unit... Yeah she threw a fit because she got one of her hairs on her unpeeled orange. Sigh.)
Did I mention that both the CSU and Peninsula are mostly for detoxing people? They just throw detoxing addicts and people who are having purely mental health problems in together. It is a bad system, because people like me who just need mental health support are often triggered by the detoxing addicts, and we get ignored by staff because the detoxing addicts are a higher priority I guess? They're certainly more dramatic.
My mum later told me that she was told that I was likely to be released early because I was "cooperative." Of fucking course I'm cooperative you absolute nitwits, I checked in voluntarily because I've been suicidal for like 16 years and I want some fuckin HELP
My mum tried to bring me a small stuffed dragon as a birthday present (yes, I was inpatient on my birthday). The stuffed toy was not allowed through because it was contraband. FUCKING HOW IS A LITTLE PLUSH DRAGON CONTRABAND? Mum articulated her distress as somethinf like "I just wanted to bring my autistic spawn something stimmy on their birthday" like fucking hell man, don't ever go inpatient if you are neurodivergent because they sure as hell won't allow you to have any coping mechanisms that aren't staying quiet, staring at nothing, and using dried up markers on a badly designed colouring page.
Anyway sorry this got so long. There's probably even more stuff that I forgot about.
Storal of the mory is don't go inpatient in Southeastern Tennessee, kids. You might be fucked up now but they will definitely fuck you up worse.
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vote-loki · 5 years
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List of things my family did before I went to the mental hospital that made my anxiety way way worse because I feel the need to publicly shame my family since I’m mad at my mom for saying my phone causes all my health problems and my dad for similar reasons:
1.) my mom consistently told me I was faking absolutely everything. Every massive screaming panic attack I had when I was literally rubbing the skin on my arm raw, since I rub my arms when I get anxious, was just me faking. The migraines and stuff I get three times a week, she told me I faked those (because she used to get nine and that’s much more realistic and obviously not anything I could inherit) and that I was doing everything to get out of school
2.) spent the entire summer telling me I could do online school and then took me to enroll at a physical school. I had saved the money for the first few online school payments (I planned on getting a better job after my summer one ended) on my own and was working at a job that treated me like shit for it and when she did that I like weird panicked and stopped saving money and blew through it.
3.) when my mom called the school and had them block my car in with the school cop after my dad said I could go home which triggered a second panic attack and the assistant principal at my school had to watch me drive heave on the pavement and rub my arm to bleeding before he called my mom to tell her he sent me home
4.) after that incident I decided I couldn’t go back to Staley and my mom told me if I didn’t go to Staley, not even if I transferred to a different school in the district, that I would be forced to sell ALL of my instruments (20 of them are mine personally and this one is particularly mean since she knows I’d never be able to afford to buy them all back and a few of them belonged to family members who’ve passed), and I would have to start paying her rent, she’d take my car and phone AND I’d have to quit my job (which hello how would I pay rent?) none of it made sense and when I explained this to her she said she’d never said that
5.) everytime I’d panic, no matter where I was or why I was panicking I’d call my mom because I just wanted to talk to someone and couldn’t think well enough to remember to call anyone else but instead of talking to me she’d start fucking screaming at me and when I confronted her about this she said “well your anxiety triggers mine” okay? And your reaction to anxiety is to call your child a faking bitch and tell her that she doesn’t deserve to feel better? Likely. Those are direct quotes btw she really called me names when I was at my mental lowest!!!!
6.) I once texted my dad a full explanation about why I was so upset once and it was really long and he chastised me for sending him anything and said to talk to my mom, after telling me I could just talk to him since mom didn’t react well to me when I was upset and I told him this and he responded “I’m not reading that book. I don’t care that you’re upset.”
7.) I asked my dad why he constantly sided with my mom about things (like when I was 16 and she kicked me out for a month because I told her she couldn’t do my laundry, that’s a story. Or when I was fifteen and she beat me with a wallet, another story) and why he let her scream at me when I was panicking and why he let her threaten to take away my things and even things they provided that I didn’t care if they took away and he said “she’s my wife and she’s the adult so I don’t care what you’re defense for yourself is even if it is correct. She’s right”
8.) when I went to enroll in my senior year I kept threatening to do things that would hurt or threaten my life at school while we were there if my mom didn’t take me home and she didn’t put me in the hospital till almost October because I was clearly just “being dramatic”
9.) the last time my mom threatened to take away my things, including all my clothes and bed sheets most of which I paid for, and the only stuffed animals I still really have which is a big pillow I’ve had since birth and a pink hippo me and my great grandma both had that my aunt Kathy bought us when we thought my grandma was gonna die in the hospital but she didn’t die for like ten more years (you understand why that would be upsetting for her to take), I took 100% of everything out of my room and dropped it in hers and told her if she wanted it she had to find space for it because she couldn’t store her things in my room and she got so mad she called my grandma and they both said “she didn’t say that that isn’t what she meant” and got pissed at me for doing that, but like why were you threatening to take my fucking clothes away Bitch? My grandma showed up at our house even to help me put things back in my room and couldn’t understand why I was upset since my mom hadn’t said she was taking any of my things. She had. Explicitly.
10.) my mom called my grandpa to come physically drag me out of bed during a panic attack while my dad was out of town, my grandpa got there and saw what was wrong with me and refused since clearly I was upset, I was crying and asked him if he knew the time because I was late for school and needed to get up and get ready but I was too upset to just then and he gave me a hug and left my house after telling my mom to let me be, and so my mom went in and tried to lift me out of bed so hard it bruised me, and then my dad got home cause his flight had come in and the airport is close to my house and he went and screamed at me for panicking and didn’t understand why I was so upset that she’d grabbed me and was mad that I was missing school. I was already panicked I didn’t need to be grabbed and yanked because I was running late to school
11.) I’ve no idea if this actually happened but in an attempt to make me go to school my favorite sister who did very little wrong actually told me that my oldest sister wasn’t going to let me see my nieces ever again if I didn’t graduate from Staley. Both my sisters after my oldest either dropped out or flunked out of college, one of whom worked part time at sams club at the time and the other worked as a waitress. My oldest sister tho thot “well the two sisters that dropped out of school are fine but fucking Cassie wants to do online school so she’s a bad influence.” I’ve no idea if my oldest sister said that but it literally fucked me up so bad
12.) none of my grandparents, including the grandma and grandpa who live up the street from us and were already mentioned, did anything to help or stop my parents from doing what they did because I was am only eighteen, and was seventeen when all that happened and so they weren’t bothering to ask for my side since my parents are the adults and just assumed the narrative of me constantly screaming at my parents and being incredibly rude was true. It was to a point, because I get black out when I panic bad enough and would text my mom big long messages about why I was upset and then she’d start screaming at me and I’d tell her “you’re no fucking help don’t sit there and be a fucking bitch if you aren’t going to fucking help” I know that cause texts but I also don’t remember sending those and have profusely apologized. But my mom would only show them that text and not the text where she was screaming at me and playing the victim and turning it into “so I’m just the worst fucking mother ever huh?” Like I didn’t say that I said I’m upset stop turning the attention to you and please help me calm down
13.) got me a therapist that refused to see me after I got violently ill and called to reschedule an appointment the day before the appointment and then didn’t get me another therapist
14.) literally let me take two ssri’s at once and when I got seratonin syndrome (which can fucking kill you) didn’t take me to the doctor for a week until it was obvious that something was actually wrong because, and I quote, “well Cassie you have such a history of making things up I didn’t even know you weren’t lying.”
15.) again, saying I lied about all of my health issues. I have anxiety & depression, and migraines. Tied to the anxiety is ibs but that’s stomach issues. My depression probably would’ve developed on its own but. The anxiety, especially at school, was because I was missing so much school with stress induced migraines, my junior year I almost flunked out because I had teachers flat refusing to give me homework because they thought I was skipping, teachers never called my parents to ask what was actually wrong, they never asked me what was wrong, they just assumed I was skipping class when I was really sick. That coupled with depression and stuff caused me to develop really intense anxiety around going to school because no matter how hard I tried my teachers weren’t going to let me catch up and so while I did have anxiety before, the migraines didn’t help the situation. All of those issues are on my medical records too. I have been diagnosed with those issues. But I made them up. Obviously.
16.) didn’t take me to the hospital until I said “I’d rather be dead than feel this way.” I said way way way way worse shit before that but they told the doctors they were trying their hardest and that that’s why they brought me in.
Genuinely there was much more but the only person in my family who I have no memories that make me start crying to recall from August to October of 2018 with are my sister Cayla and her mans because they both had a lot of issues with school and never told me anything upsetting outside of letting me vent and offering advice when asked.
A lot of these things are said in favor of me and I still love both of my parents but you have to realize that even as the child in this situation I didn’t deserve anything they were doing to me. They could’ve sat down and talked to me and told me I wasn’t doing online school instead of letting me think I was. They could’ve been caring or not told me I was lying 24/7. Like idk how to paint my mom texting me, there are actual records of her saying directly, “you have to give me all of your things if you don’t do this and I will make you wear one outfit every day. You have to pay rent and sell all your instruments, because none of them can stay in the house. You also have to quit your job, but if you can’t pay rent I’ll kick you out.” In favor of my mom. I don’t know how to say that in a way that makes her look good without 100% denying that she did it. Which is what she did. A lot of the stuff that happened that I didn’t mention doesn’t sound bad but it just builds up and stuff. Like this is a really long post but I’m really upset because I’ve been waking up early and not sleeping well so no sleep which makes me upset and while everyone is asleep right now (I’m on vacation in Minnesota but everyone else in the room is asleep) I’m making a post about this because this morning my dad told my grandma I didn’t actually have insomnia, I had a phone addiction and wouldn’t admit it and he took some digs at me in the car when he thought I couldn’t hear and I’m still really mad about it.
Also I did graduate from Staley so I guess I get to see my nieces still.
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2getmeoutofthis · 7 years
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1st post, at least 10 posts too late.
And I can’t even decide what language to write in.
English is not my first language, but for some reasons  I’ve been using it a lot, and I realized that it’s easier for me to talk about feelings/emotions in english, probably because there’s an element of disassociating myself from them when it’s not in my mother tongue? I don’t know, why am I even explaining this.
So it’s day one.
Day one of back to writing things down, day one of Sertralinum. Asertin for me, most commonly sold as Zoloft.
I’m not sure I feel any change but I also don’t think I’m supposed to, that soon?
I felt pretty nauseous today, not sure if it’s the med or just me. We’ll see.
Let’s rewind.
It’s by my estimate about 15 years I’ve been depressed. Or depressive. Who knows, can’t tell. But let’s say, it’s been at least 15 years since feeling remotely normal/happy (no, not even happy but just somewhat normal) about the world, myself and my life is something rather episodic(?) as opposed to feeling low-key depressed, constantly-in-the-background-casually-pessimistic, sometimes apathetic or just sad. Some days are better, have been better, some days are bland, some days I’m happy to see the sun and do things (well, that’s been a while but I’m on the larger picture now). If things are looking up I’m looking up too, sure. I’m usually happy when I’m in love, though it usually goes downhill somewhat fast. Because I guess you can’t really be in a functional relationship, if you have a dysfunctional relationship with yourself.
And I am not very in love with myself.
I never really wanted to kill myself, except for that one episode with overdosing on gummy candies (at least that’s how I explain it to myself - ate about 2kg of them one night and went from a super high to a really “ooooh shit i kinda wanna die” low, but yeah I didn’t attempt anything, just tried to rationalize with myself that something happened to my brain and it’ll pass. I wrote “overdosed” cause I’ve read somewhere that if you eat too much sugar too fast the brain can’t process it or something and bam you get a high and then oh boy you get a  low). Anyway, I don’t really want to die or kill myself, and never really wanted, I just don’t really act as if I wanted to live either.
And it’s not that I don’t (want to, live). I do, and I want to enjoy life, it’s just...
so fucking hard? It seems simple but it also seems like everyone is walking just fine and I’m in one of those blow-up bubbles that you can get into and say roll yourself off a hill, but I’m trying to walk on water while inside of it.
That’s me trying to be “happy” (and by happy I only mean not miserable)
So, again, I never wanted to kill myself, and that is one of the main reasons why I never sought help - because it can’t be that bad if I don’t want to kill myself, right?
Wrong. So fucking wrong.
If anyone ever reads this, I hope you don’t waste as much time as I did telling yourself you’ll get better on your own. I’m still learning that, but it’s ok to seek help. Fuck, how I wish I’d done it earlier. And I’m barely beginning to try to fix things. 1,5 year after I’ve quit my job, when I’d get to a point that I don’t have money to pay the rent, but I also just can’t really get a job or think about getting one, just a wake up-eat-sleep rinse-repeat cycle
kind of blank and kind of hungry
plans for tomorrow: none (I don’t feel like making plans and I don’t really feel like doing anything)
I kind of feel like I should go to sleep (2 am now) but the past few days getting in bed ended in me bursting in tears because it’s where the escapism ends and I’m dreading that so I guess I don’t go to sleep but then it gets later and later and I know how it fucks up everything but yeah, not like knowing things ever helped me
oh, let’s try this gratitude/good things list. I always knew I should be doing it but always was too lazy. so here we go. let’s make it 5 things i guess?
1. today J. visited me (and was supposed to motivate me to paint the ceiling in the other room and i even took a shower and got some “painting” clothes on, but only to decide I really don’t feel like it and after all feel pretty dizzy/nauseous. but this was supposed to be a good things list, so...)
- it was nice to interact with her I guess, I kind of dread human interaction these times because honestly, 1) the only thing happening to me lately is that I’m depressed, I’m depressed as fuck and possibly the worst so far, and all t he things that happen around that (i.e seeing specialists) , and I don’t necessarily want to discuss that with everyone, 2) the other thing happening to me is literally nothing, so i have literally nothing to talk about. I can talk to you about how my plants have been growing lately. or whether my cat pooped in or outside the litterbox. 3) it’s stressfull . So J. is actually much younger and already on meds for a while, also depressed+anxious+maybe other things, and honestly? feel kind of shitty to say this but when I first met her, or maybe first couple of times I felt like she’s pretty unstable (and I guess in a way she is, she is really emotional and so am I but I guess I’m just older and learned to control some things + maybe have a different temper)..anyway the funny thing is I used to think (with all my sympathy to her) that she’s like, pretty unstable and just not really well, now she visits me and she’s the one starting a job tomorrow, I’m the one who can’t even think of trying to get one. But she gets it, and I know it’s not easy for her either. She gets all of this, which is why I’m grateful that I can talk about all those things with her and not feel judged, which is why I can ‘handle’ her and honestly I don’t think I would want anyone around rn for whom I’d have to pretend like I’m a normally functioning undepressed person.
lol I fail at making lists
2. we watched “Little Miss Sunshine” (both for the first time), I’ve been putting away this movie for so many years now and it’s really a super feel-good, so I’m glad that we did.
3. I guess when she was around there were times when I was feeling pretty normal and that was nice
4. ok this is hard. uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... ok i’m grateful that my cat decided not to poop outside of the litter box, it’s pretty silly but it’s really frustrating as fuck when she does it
5. Actually it was my mom’s birthday today...so I guess I should say that I’m thankful for her? :|
6. ok wooh look at me doing so great i thought of a 6th thing. I’m pretty thankful to have free health care and for the fact that (at least my meds) are so idiotically cheap I really regret not going to a psychiatrist earlier, i’d be pooooppin dem pillz like candies, yeahhh. (no not really but asertin here costs like 1.5$)
p.s I had a dream that I was this kinda weird girl (somewhat like Barb from Stranger Things maybe?) and maybe kinda retarded or at least acting like i was; I went to a library and asked the librarian for one book after another, trying to find my “father” except she’d give me a children book about fish and i’d point at one and shout “oh that’s my father!” and then go on to the next book and whatever character and claim them to be my father as well and none of it made sense and that poor girl was looking at me like “gurl you cuckoo much?” but with sort of a confused-pity, it was like i was on some weird cray search for a father figure and didn’t really know who my father was and I was recognizing “him” in every next thing I could. and then after a while of going through those books, I acclaimed that I just realized Tommy Wiseau is my father and I need to get in touch  with him, I had some weird reasoning why I thought it makes perfect sense that he is and for some reason in the dream logic it worked in my favour that I was this mentally challenged girl and didn’t really have bad intentions and I think the librarian girl sort  of helped me to get in touch with Tommy Wiseau (as opposed to any other person who would want his contact details to stalk him or something?) but not much came out of it cause I woke up.
the end (that’s a pre-ssri dream btw)
end end
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