#trazodone for almost a month fucked me up

[taintmansion]

.

[raspberryconverse]

This is basically why I got married. I literally did not think anyone else was going to want to be with me and I didn't want to be alone for the rest of my life.

I joked about this all the time. "Nobody else was going to want to put up with me, so of course I wanted to marry [spouse]." But it was true.

I'm just realizing now how fucking sad that is because it wasn't a joke.

I think one of the most freeing things about polyamory for me is realizing this isn't true. For so long, I felt I had little to offer and nobody else was going to want to be with me, so I clung to my relationship with my spouse. This is as good as it's going to get, I'd tell myself. When I was complaining about my sad, boring sex life to my therapist and how I felt like I just settled, she said that everyone settles.

But I don't. As of today, I have 675 people who like me on Feeld (not including my 19 matches and who knows how many people I've swiped no on, because that decreases the number of likes you have). I have 3 wonderful beaus who like me for me (and a 4th who used to, but I honestly have no idea what's going on with him anymore and it's probably over with beau #2 if we're being honest). And they tell me so.

I haven't written about this yet, but my spouse and I decided to deescalate. And yeah, it kinda sucks after 2 years of marriage and 6.5 of being together, but it's for the best. We still love each other very much. We're still each other's family. And we still have sex sometimes. But the sex has never been great. And opening our marriage made us realize that. I mean, I knew it, but I resigned myself to thinking there was enough there to be happy. But there isn't.

We're not getting divorced. It's expensive and not really necessary at this point (and with all the shit that's been going down with my company, we want the benefit of having a spouse that if either of us loses our jobs, we can still have health insurance). It's really just a piece of paper. We're not selling the house because it's not a good time for it and we definitely wouldn't get back what we've put into it the last 2 years right now. And neither of us can afford to buy on our own and neither of us want to rent either (I think the only place I'd want to rent would be one of the units in beau #1's building because he'd be my landlord and then we'd be in the same building and could fuck a lot more often because I'd just be downstairs). We've been working on creating our own separate suites in the house. This turns our 3 bedroom into a 4 bedroom with a primary suite with an ensuite bathroom. Huge for resale value.

I'm having fun decorating my spaces. I just spent over $400 at Ikea on furniture and accessories and I honestly cannot wait to host. Being able to host is going to be a game changer for my relationship with beau #1, seeing as we always run into the problem of coordinating with his wife's boyfriend's inconsistent work schedule. It'll also be nice for beau #3 to come to me because he lives almost an hour away. And sleepovers! I used to not be "allowed" to have sleepovers because my spouse liked waking up in the morning to me being there, but now that we've deescalated, we're sleeping separately. Beau #3 can sleepover when he comes to visit or vice versa, so no more 50 min drives home at 2am. I actually slept over at beau #4's place last week and it was pretty nice (minus the not having my trazodone and having to get up at 6 because he had to go to work 😕).

It's still really sad. We're both still mourning what we thought we had, but it's really for the best. I honestly feel a huge sense of relief. I've felt like I've been failing my spouse when it comes to their varied gender states and now that I don't have to try and figure out how to make them feel more comfortable, I'm just relieved. I think that was one of the most crushing things I've been trying to deal with the last few months. And now that I don't have to worry about it, I feel a lot better. I can focus on what I'm good at with my other partners and not feel like a failure. That's huge for me.

We're going to be ok. I'm going to be ok. Life is moving in a good direction for us, all thanks to polyamory.

[rhubarb4745]

i want to write an essay about being on psychiatric medication & the havoc it wreaked on my body rly bad but idk where to start or how to frame it. rly it was just so fucked up. i went on celexa when i was ten and had rly bad side effects. when i went to the psych ward when i was twelve they put me on lexapro and i was back in a week. then i ended up on antipsychotics even tho i wasn't manic/psychotic at all -- later i asked my mom why & she said it was bc i was operating in a way that was 'like you weren't living in reality' referring to my irrational responses to sexual abuse -- which, duh! when i was in 8th grade i was in a dissociative fugue state for more than a year. i was so outside my body it was terrifying. i felt like i was on drugs all the time. my mood stabilizers made me start lactating -- i was fourteen!!! i would soak thru my bras and tank tops. all my shit was stained. a few weeks ago i was texting w my best friend from that time & she reminded me about how during sleepovers i would convulse in my sleep. she often thought i was having seizures but it was just my meds. i would also do it while i was falling asleep. i had horrible restless leg syndrome, i remember this one night a boy i was sleeping on the couch with at my cousin's house almost called 911 because he thought i was dying. i was sick all the time; sometimes i would forget doses and puke or i would take them at the wrong time and puke or i wouldn't eat beforehand and i would puke or i would eat too much beforehand and i would puke. i forget exactly what i was on when i was 15-16 or so but as soon as i took them i would have to lay down or i would puke. i couldn't even sit up for ten minutes. i was never happy. they barely worked. i was on such high doses. when i stopped taking trazodone in high school my mom was also on it. i was taking double her dose every night and still couldn't sleep. i went off of everything when i was seventeen after i hyperventilated in my psychiatrist's office about how nothing had ever worked. we titrated off of everything really carefully and slowly. i had the WORST side effects. even the stuff he said would have no side effects for most people going off them absolutely tore my body up. i was in hell for months. when i came out the other side of the withdrawals i was happier than i had been in years. when we were driving i told my dad i could see the sunset again

[valerieismss]

Med Ratings

In order of when I was first prescribed them

Zoloft: 7/10. Points docked because it makes you suicidal in the first month. I was hospitalized shortly after I took it for the first time at 15 but whatever I take it now at the highest dose so it’s fine. Helped chill out my ocd more than anything

Hydroxyzine: 3/10 UGH she literally only makes me feel chill. Helpful when I was prescribed it as an as needed for ptsd but I take it for sleep and it’s almost 4am so you can see how that’s going. Also. I wake up insanely late. Hate her tbh

Prozac: 4/10 she just turned me into stone I didn’t like it much. Discontinued this and never looked back

Abilify: 6/10 I don’t remember if taking her did anything for me aside from strengthen my Zoloft but she was okay I guess. Baby’s first antipsychotic…I preferred this to seroquel who I ended up taking anyways because abilify wasn’t treating my new diagnosis of bipolar disorder

Seroquel: 8/10 we have a really toxic relationship and this was the only med I’ve been sad to be off of. Seroquel slumber is unmatched I miss it so Fucking much but it made me miss class a lot and now that I’m an ra I can’t afford that. I miss her so much…she really treated my bipolar in terms of my hypomania and severe depressives at least

Clonidine: 8/10 she does what she has to do and i respect that. Just calms me down as needed. I don’t like how often she’s confused for clonazepam though…she’s better she’s different she’s not addictive I pinky promise.

Wellbutrin: 3/10 what is she even doing. Also apparently there to cheer on Zoloft but like whatever dude do I really need her. I’m not even on a therapeutic dose since it’s just to help the zoloft so I don’t really know.

Lamictal: 10/10 goated fixed me so well. First mood stabilizer ever and goddamn she is so good…I still have swings but they were so much worse without lamictal…she fixed my bpd and turned it to bpd traits. All hail lamotrigine fr

Trazodone: 1/10 wtf it didn’t even do anything and it induces mania in bipolar patients so why did they think giving me that as a sleep med was a good idea…stopped it pretty quickly because I was like girl what the fuck is this.

[gobbluthbutagirl]

i’ve gone off all my meds in the past month and like on the one hand i feel so #free being unmedicated but on the other hand the longer i live like this the more obvious it becomes that i like Need to be on add*rall to be a functioning member of society. adhd cringe and fail moments

[tavvattales]

TW: Talk of depression, anxiety, panic attacks, PTSD, medical talk, medicines, mentions of death, pictures of wounds and aftermath of surgeries, swearing

I honestly don't know where else to write this go get this off my chest, but here goes nothing. . .please read at your own risk

Oh jeez. So uhm I'm honestly just so tired. Both physically and mentally. I have chronic anxiety related insomnia 🙃 I had my meds increased to help, but it's still not working. I still can't fucking sleep and im so tired guys, so fucking tired.

For those who are wondering I'm now on 225mg of Effexor XR(venlafaxine xr), 200mg of Trazodone, and 50mg of Hydroxyzine as needed.

I feel like everything has gotten worse since my 3 brain surgeries. After everything I went through I feel like I should be happy that I have no more chronic migraines, but for some stupid reason I keep asking myself "That's it?" Like I should have died under the knife or something, I know that sounds awful, but I think it's because 3 back to back brain surgeries and a month and a half in the ICU was just traumatic. Nothing feels the same anymore. It feels just empty?

I told my therapist that I really didn't actually have any time to recover after my surgeries because my mom basically put me right back to work(I'm a caregiver for my elder sister who has Huntington's disease). I work when she has to go to work, so I have 15 hour work days 3 days a week, watching a sister that I love dearly slowly deteriorate.

And what fucking sucks is that my mom saw first hand what I went through all 3 times because she took time off of work to come see me everyday in the hospital, but when I decided to be open and honest with her about not being fully recovered mentally, she basically brushed my feelings under the rug and told me I wasn't taking my work seriously. "You only had 3 surgeries" ONLY? ONLY 3? Wow oh my fucking god, only 3???!!! Like my surgeries weren't a big fucking deal. 🙄

For those of you who don't know: August 6th I had my first brain surgery. It was a craniotomy for Chiari decompression. Dr put a graft over my brain since he removed a part of my skull during the first surgery, was in the hospital for almost a week, everything seemed fine and dandy besides being in immense pain. Was only home for two days when whoopsie my incision site started leaking CSF fluid, and I mean leaking, it was all over my pillow cases and soaked the back of my sleep shirt, a nice steady stream of CSF fluid, it wouldn't stop. So I got driven to the ER and was in the hospital for another few days before they put me under again on August 18th. Turns out the graft that was put in disintegrated. According to my Dr, he never saw anything like that before and it was really hard to fix. During this surgery is when I got an EVD drain put in at the top of my head to help regulate the access CSF fluid, this was when I was in the ICU for a month. Third surgery was because during the 2nd surgery I got meningitis. My incision site kept leaking a bit again(not as bad as the first time) so the Dr did a wound wash and sewed my incision back up and that was on October 11th, during this time for 4 weeks- I had to drive to the hospital everyday to get heavy duty antibiotics to treat my meningitis. So yeah, that was my journey.

I'm not sure if anyone will actually read thus, but if you do, sorry for the long rant. . .I'm just so tired from everything. This really all stemmed from me just wanting to sleep for once. :/ I've got no motivation for anything. Even showering feels like a chore. . .anyways, yes I'm safe, no I won't do anything. And thank you for taking the time to read this. I've attached some pictures of my journey through surgery.

Right before/after first surgery leading up to the leaking:

After 2nd surgery:

I can't post anymore pictures, but yeah that was that hahaha

[chimaeracabra]

I am having some trouble focusing right now. I wanna do this assignment that is due next Tuesday so I can ask my professor questions about it during class tomorrow. I feel sad about my loved ones. Neither of my sisters are happy, and Nick is struggling. He called me almost three hours ago. It was the first I've heard from him since he went into the ED on Monday night. He sounded really out of it. He is somewhere safer than where I worked when I was in psychiatric care, which I'm glad for. He also said they let you keep your cell phone on the unit where he is. He told me that today he had images of skinning himself. I can't imagine what it's like to have these constant and sudden malevolent thoughts of self-harm 24/7. I wish he had never had TBI as a teen (he was mugged twice). Perhaps he wouldn't be having this problem now. He told me he saw the psychiatrist for the first time today and they recommended therapy. He has expressed before that he doesn't like therapy and doesn't really want to do it, unless it's CBT or DBT (he recently bought a bunch of psych books and a book about healthy coping skills. I wish he had brought that one with him to the hospital). I think he is preventing himself from even having a chance of improvement with his automatic negative thoughts. So, I hope when he gets out of the hospital, he will actually do therapy and stick with it. A few weeks ago, I felt like something bad was going to happen. I knew it was just a matter of time...

I have been having insomnia for a few days now. Probably because I am just worried about Nick and I'm worried about my twin. Fitbit says I slept for 4 hours and 54 minutes last night. And that was with Benadryl. Maybe tonight I will take Benadryl and my trazodone. I don't really like trazodone too much. I think it increases my chances of having an episode of sleep paralysis, which I really don't enjoy. But I seriously think some of the reason I constantly have so much foot pain is because I don't sleep at a normal hour, or long enough for my body to experience restorative sleep.

I woke up around 8:40AM today and was going to go straight to the gym but felt like crap, so I went back to sleep until 10:46AM. I would love to be on a schedule where I am asleep no later than 12:30AM and waking up around 8:30AM. I have been needing to reset my biological clock basically since I was in high school. Some days it is far worse. For a while, 2AM was my regular bedtime, but I am finding myself awake at 4:30AM, sometimes longer than that. Tuesday, I logged 3 hours and 44 minutes of sleep from 2:02-10:22am. Fuck all.

This morning, the gynecologist who inserted my first IUD back in January called me back about the ultrasound I had on Friday. Apparently, I have a 0.9cm polyp in my uterus that the IUD may be rubbing against. And she said that probably explains the breakthrough bleeding I sometimes have. I am annoyed as FUCK about it, because now I have to go in for her to take out my second IUD and biopsy the friggen polyp to try and remove it all. And if she can't get it all blind in the office with me on painkillers, I might require surgery. I'm a little worried, but she said she does not think it's cancerous. She also said my IUD is tilted somewhat diagonally, so I should use condoms until we can sort this shit out.

I'll be really upset if I can't use this form of birth control. If the copper IUD is in the right place, it's at least 99% effective. Nick and I can't stand how expensive our favorite condoms are (I cannot fuckin' do latex because it burns me), and I was looking forward to never having to worry about condoms.

The only thing I have done today that has made me happy so far was work out. I finally got back in my gym. Now that I'm a few weeks out from full vaccination, I feel a little less worried about contracting COVID-19. I only ran for about 23 minutes. First I did weights. I did the pull-down machine I like. I was pleasantly surprised to see that I can still pull down more than half my weight. I have been doing at-home strength training 3-5 days a week with all my dumb bells. I want to get my middle skinnier again, like it was about 3-4 years ago when I was running a shit ton. But I also don't want to lose my ass. I really see and feel how I have put muscle mass onto my butt, hips, and legs in general. I did my ankle weights after I came home.

I need to try and do at least some work. Then I want to write a story and I will try to have Benadryl and traz tonight and sleep before it's 2AM.

My mom is going on a date on the weekend, and I will finally be able to join her to go to NH to look at a place for my twin to stay during her residency. I also plan to make a batch of basil soap so I can send more to my mentor and my friends. Which reminds me, my dear friend Rueben is getting married soon. I got the formal invitation in the mail today. I was there when he met his fiancée (Rue and I were at the Museum of Fine Arts for an event, just trying to be social, and they struck up a conversation). I'm genuinely happy for him. We don't talk much these days, but he has been such a good friend to me over the past 7 or so years.

I hold the people I care about in such high esteem, and close to my heart. I just want everyone I love to be happy. The past 6 months with Nick have been some of the absolute happiest of my life so far. I hope that things can just keep getting better from here on out...

[hazard-and-friends]

Month 6

Holy cow my little dude. Look how far you’ve come!

Before: Heartworm positive. I couldn’t leave without him having a 30 minute meltdown including trying to pull down the blinds so he could see out the window. Spent 4 hours fixating on the cat and vocalizing. Walked on a front attach harness as otherwise he would lunge and choke himself. Knew not a single verbal cue (at first--picked up his name in 2 days!). Even once he knew some things, none of them worked outside--I spent 45 minutes walking without him looking at me once. Growled at strangers if they approached within 10 feet. Marked in the house and didn’t warn when he had to pee. Took between 20 and 30 minutes to get him INTO the crate at night, followed by 10-20 minutes of vocalizing before he would sleep.

Now: Heartworm negative! If he has an interesting food puzzle, he’ll ignore me going out the door as long as he’s crated; otherwise, if crated there’ll be a couple barks and if not, some barks and pacing but settles within 5 minutes. Can be left 100% alone for 10 seconds at a time. Goes on his morning walk on a flat collar and only lunges if relatively close to squirrels (getting closer all the time!!), then self corrects to hang back with me (while whining, oh buddy). Knows so many cues that tomorrow we’re going to play some cue discrimination games. Also knows his name and sit and SOMETIMES touch outside! Progress!! Doesn’t growl at strangers largely at all, even when they’re neighbors and on His Property >.<. Hasn’t had an accident in months (random vomit excepted), still doesn’t use his bell but that’s because we communicate telepathically instead. Walks into his crate for bedtime, unless it’s a couch night, and settles instantly as long as the cat isn’t Being Interesting. Even when she is, we’re still talking a minute or so of nonsense.

So that’s the summary, onto the details:

Anxiety: Continues on 50 mg/2x day of trazodone. We haven’t needed to dip into the gabapentin. General anxiety has very much settled down, and his SA is almost back to where it was in mid-September. As above, I can largely leave without incident as long as he’s crated. We should start this week trying me leaving without him crated.

Cat: While he still has moments where Penny is SUPER EXCITING (see: this evening), mostly he is very blase about the cat existing near him. Penny is largely more interesting than doing literally nothing, so he’s very easy to redirect but is still working on self calming. Fingers crossed, we think the baby gate will be down by the end of the year. Penny, for her part, is getting VERY comfortable in Dog Range and will play with him.

Crate: Sleeps in it. Sleeps out of it. Doesn’t care. Goes in when I leave. Goes in other times. Doesn’t care. Love it.

Weight: Will check in on this tomorrow.

Formal training: Watch is so fucking slow oh my god. We’ll work on it tomorrow. Sit/down/touch good, “this way” is our relaxed U turn, sometimes I remember that stand & his place cues exist. We’re getting there.

Handling: THIS IS WHERE THE EFFORT WENT. Today I touched his toes with the dremel several times in a row!! Admittedly it was off but oh my god. He comes and opts in to toe touching, and then I touch his toes a lot and feed him constantly, and eventually he goes and takes a break--and then comes BACK. Amazing what some cooperative care and start buttons will do.

Stranger danger: We’ve started group classes at Petco for this, which means once a week he spends an hour with three strange adults and a strange dog. It’s very exhausting and last time he came home and passed out for the rest of the day. They’re all good at following his boundaries, and he’s starting to go up and sniff. After a bad meeting of the new neighbor (neighbor caught us both by surprise and I didn’t have treats on me, so Hazard growled and hackles up until I could physically turn him around), we met him again this morning with no noise or dramatics. Very slow but very real progress.

Walks: This week is 25 min in the morning and 15 in the evening. I’ll continue adding 5 min to morning walks until either it’s 45 minutes OR I quit Petco, and then there’s some complicated flowchart for where my extra energy goes which I’ll address when we get there.

tldr: rescue dog comes home and develops behavior issues, but after 6 months of hard work is a very good dog

[altheterrible]

Talked with my psych NP today and changed some of my meds up.

I'm apprehensive because I haven't made serious changes to my meds in about 2 years, but my current regimen just wasn’t working.

The great thing about working at a psychiatric facility is that my EAP (employee assistance program; a bundle of services offered to employees for free) includes free therapy and free psychiatric consults. So hopefully I can get established with a decent psychiatrist and get this mess completely figured out.

Changes:

Venlafaxine XR is going from 225 mg to 300 mg

Wellbutrin XL 300 mg is changing to Wellbutrin SR 200 mg

Vyvanse 40 mg is going to Vyvanse 30 mg

Trazodone 100 mg PRN insomnia is going to 100-200 mg PRN

Temazepam 15 mg PRN super insomnia isn't changing

Latuda 40 mg isn't changing, but I might start actually taking it again. Concerns: weight gain, metabolic issues, EPS, TD, brain fog. It was better than Abilfy in terms of weight gain and metabolic issues, but not completely benign. Risk of TD increases with long term use, though 40 mg is a low dose. I would like to find an endocrinologist to consult.

I generally think antipsychotics are overprescribed, especially when you consider how much money drug companies are raking in with the new ones. My Latuda is $1400 per month without insurance. I'm diabetic, I don't need any help with increasing insulin resistance and cholesterol. But, it helps me not do impulsive shit. And might help the COVID hallucinations?

I want to get off Wellbutrin because it doesn't help and the side effects are…unpleasant. But every time I try to decrease my dose, I get withdrawal symptoms. Still, my long term goal is to DC that med.

I'm hoping to stick with Effexor bc trying to stop that med is hell. I've had success with it for almost 3 years, so I'm hoping increasing the dose can give it some more longevity.

I'm thinking of giving mirtazepine another shot. There's some evidence that combining it with Effexor can be effective. But I really, really hated it when I took it before. I took 2 doses and couldn't keep going. It made me sleep for 40 hours over 2 days and eat everything in the kitchen. I can't stand feeling that kind of heavy, drugged feeling. It makes me extremely anxious. If I do give it a shot, maybe temporarily increase the Vyvanse? Idk.

I'm going to be working 2nd shift once I'm done with training, so hopefully my insomnia will get better when I’m not trying to put my ADHD brain to bed 6 hours before it wants to be asleep.

I love my psych NP because she really values my input and listens to my suggestions to the point that I'm essentially designing my own treatment regimen. But being 300 miles away is an issue.

I also need to get established with a primary care physician here. I really need a full physical to figure out wtf is going on with my pos body post-COVID. I'm going to need new lung imaging and probably new pulmonary function tests. I need at head CT at least and ideally an MRI. I'm pretty convinced I had a stroke back in April. Seriously. I'm also having brain fog and memory loss that's way beyond anything I've ever experienced with my depression or ADHD. And loss of coordination. I was playing the piano tonight and…ugh. I just couldn't get my hands to do the Thing. So I have some concerns on that front.

COVID caused peripheral nerve damage in my hands, so now my palms feel permanently scalded. My NP agreed to increase my gabapentin but won't do so until I send my positive COVID results. Weirdly, the place I had it done closed forever since I was there? Wtf.

Then there's these weird fucking allergic reactions I can't figure out. I've never had serious allergy issues in my life. I have a very mild mold allergy that I control with prn Zyrtec. I'm allergic to a specific kind of cephalosporin antibiotic that no one even used anymore. But in the last 3 months, I've started having these anaphylactic reactions to…nothing? I can't identify a trigger. I haven't added anything new medication wise, hygiene product wise, or food wise to my life. I thought maybe it was something in my house up north, but we moved and the reactions persisted.

It starts with my tongue tingling and swelling. Then I start getting itchy, tingling palms and feet. Then I get this feeling like bugs under my skin on my arms and legs. Then I break out in hives and my skin just…starts to slough off. Breathing gets harder. My heart rate goes up, my blood pressure goes down. When I was in the ER for this crap, my d-dimer was elevated as well. Treatment is Benadryl+ Zyrtec+prednisone+famotidine. Then epinephrine if that doesn't work.

This is scary as shit because I am already Not a healthy person. I'm about 3 bad days away from having a stroke WITHOUT my body creating extra clotting factors. My heart rate is about 100 BPM WITH A BETA BLOCKER. I have an irregular heartbeat. Diabetes. Jacked up lungs. I don't need any help with my early death.

So, yeah. I'm alive for the moment but I really need to see like 6 doctors.

Oh lmao, I'm not eligible for my employers health insurance because I have a pre existing condition…or 10. God bless Fuhrer Trump.

[thesepoemsareshit]

To: Everyone who told me I’ll be alright.

I am sitting in a dark room, my nose in a corner where the air somehow gets thinner with every breath i take

My mother is behind me, talking with my psychiatrist softly enough that I can’t quite make out what either of them are saying

Maybe i’m crazy, maybe i’m broken

I was prescribed an antidepressant medication, which was quickly broken and snorted.

Many months passed, not particularly painful- but not joyful either

Kind of like someone pressed forward on a very tired VHS tape

Everything passes in flashes, muted out by the sound of tiredness

I didn’t think being tired had a sound until I would sit in front of the mirror in a very quiet room and just wish the sound would stop.

Everything was blank, bland and boring

Not particularly in a bad way- i mean i felt neutral.

It was like closing your eyes and scribbling on a page, really not knowing what is to come of it but just knowing you can label it as a piece of art regardless. People love what they can’t understand.

Not happy but not sad

Maybe that was why coke felt so good.

I could feel the burning through my whole face

It's like the top of the soda, just the foam running through your veins. Your nose feels stuffed, your mouth tastes like gas- and i loved it more than life.

The weirdest thing about doing drugs and wanting to die is that you really aren't scared of either.

I could almost feel the desperation from my parents as I sat next to them in a pew and they gave up their souls to a God that I’m still not sure is truly there.

I hit seventeen, and it wasn’t until I shot up heroin that I realised I needed help.

It's an odd feeling that I can’t quite think of a word for.

Cause suddenly something switched, I really didn’t want to die, and knew I would.

Some would call it a miracle, I would call it an awakening. Because to be honest with you. I ran out of my meds.

My last pill of trazodone was up my nose over a week prior. About two weeks too early for a new bottle. That's another thing about drugs. You really can’t keep track of yourself.

Maybe that's why my memory is still shit to this day.

I wasn’t sleeping, I was up thinking- imagining my future and seeing a life.

Also, my parents wouldn’t be able to live with themselves if I killed myself- and I knew that.

My parents didn’t raise me to be this selfish.

Why am I like this?

I’m now twenty-two and its 11:43 on a Thursday

I have ten thousand more words than these that I’ll continue to keep to myself.

Why would I share them and risk being called ‘futile” or ‘stupid with my youth’

Cause let's be honest

Words have never been friends with the truth.

Fuck you for telling me I’ll be alright, it’s because of you that I wasn’t for so long.

[supernatural-squadd]

Giving Tumblr a Little Break

Why in the actual fuck some asshole anon thinks it’s okay to go after me, is beyond my knowledge. I did absolutely NOTHING wrong and I’m getting total disrespectful, rude hate. WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?!

I’m honestly proud I beat my self harming problem, I’m glad that handful of sleeping pills didn’t kill me. I survived that shit for a reason. And it sure as hell wasn’t to sit here and receive hateful fucking bullshit.

Over the last month or so I have gotten so much hate and things in my inbox telling my to get off Tumblr or to kill myself. A lot of it I haven’t posted. My depression is “chronic” as the doctor says and even with my meds I cant deal with this kind of shit. I’m a fighter but I just need a break from this. Its all leading me down the same path as before when I tried some stupid shit and I really can’t deal with it right now. I don’t want to go down that road again.

Before anyone says anything, I’m not posting this for attention, or to start drama, I’m posting this for my followers who stay tuned to what I post, and for my friends I’ve made on here. For at least a month or two, I’m not going to be active. I have stuff on queue but other than that, I myself won’t be on here. So my account will still have things being posted to it until next Tuesday at 8pm (3/21/17). The app is being deleted from my phone and I’m logging out on my computer so I won’t have any notifications or access to Tumblr until I’m ready to come back.

Almost a year ago today I was struggling with self harm. My depression was going unattended for. It consumed my life day in and day out until I was alone one morning and couldn’t take it anymore. I got into my moms pills and grabbed a 50 milligram bottle of Trazodone, poured about seven to eight of them in my hand, and swallowed them. Hoping I wouldn’t wake up once I passed out from the sleeping medication. Looking back today I’m blessed to be here and I know it. But to prevent anything like that again I’m stepping back from my account(s) for awhile. Anytime I start to feel my depression worsening I do whatever I think is best to fix it, this is what’s best for right now.

I didn’t jump off the face of the Earth, or listen to that stupid anon(s) and end my life for those who would worry. That’s why I’m posting this. The hate is just too constant and I’m not able to take it all back to back like this like I have before in real life.

Thank you for those who’ve supported me this far, and all the friends I’ve made on here. After I go to sleep tonight the app will be off my phone, and I hope you all can understand. I’ll be back, I just need some time to work on my mind some more.

[samtheflamingomain]

MIA

If anyone noticed I was gone for almost a week, I was in the hospital.

I made it 1 year and 10 months without going to the hospital - mostly because I’d rather be chained to a giant man-eating rhino for 5 days. 

I took 12 Trazodone (sleeping pills) Thursday night. I almost died. I don’t remember much between the time I took them and passed out and waking up at 9am Friday in the hospital. 

I remember the EMTs suddenly surrounding me in my bedroom (they had broken down the door, I later learned - can’t wait to pay for that!), then being wheeled outside, then being told I was going to have to throw up at the hospital, then waking up. 

They actually told me as soon as they showed up to stay awake. I remember doing so, and sitting on a stretcher next to an EMT who said she was amazed I was still conscious. I told her “you told me to stay awake” and she said, “I didn’t think you’d actually be able to.” 

Long story short, I took a definitively lethal dose of Trazodone and didn’t even throw up. No lasting damage. I must be fucking Wolverine or something.

Friday was a blur, though mostly because I was sitting in a chair in the waiting room from 10am to 6pm. 

There was no room on the mental health ward, so they stuck me in the Extended Assessment Unit, which is not entirely dissimilar to literal prison.

A young girl was on the EAU, I’ll call her AJ because she’s only 17. And she actually was in prison (well, juvie, I suppose). For TWO YEARS. I didn’t ask why of course, but she said it wasn’t much different from the EAU: you get a cell with literally just a stretcher in it, there’s no TV, no books, newspapers, magazines, NOTHING. You are served your 3 “meals” a day - probably a total of about 1100 calories if you can manage to choke it all down - and you have to go to the nurse’s station to get a fucking cup of water.

I have a few stories to share about some of the people I had the pleasure and displeasure of meeting, but for now, back to me.

I was on the EAU for 36 hours. At 4am Friday, I was put on a Form 1, meaning a doctor has declared I must stay in the hospital for 72 hours.

By the time I got on the ward, I went to bed, and when I woke up Monday morning, technically, without even being assigned a psychiatrist, my Form was up. I could’ve left yesterday, but luckily I was assigned my favorite psychiatrist,(you know you’re fucked when you have a favorite psychiatrist) Dr. Williams.

She remembered me from nearly 2 years ago. My old psychiatrist wouldn’t even remember my name when I came to see him twice a month.

She convinced me to stay one more day. 

It wasn’t the best hospital experience, and, despite spending half of it in crazy people jail, it wasn’t even the worst. 

There was literally nobody even remotely close to my age on the ward this time, which is pretty odd. I’m talking like 90% people in their 50s-60s. Luckily this time, I had a regular visitor, my friend Casey. Last time, I had nobody, but I made friends on the ward. The time before that, it was my parents. Who were the reason I was there in the first place.

I was put back on a drug I was taken off of about a month ago. It hadn’t really seemed to be doing much, but it was just a few days after being off it that I started going downhill fast, so it must’ve been doing something.

Hopefully it gets me back to just being super depressed without wanting to kill myself. I guess that’s the best I can hope for.

Stay Greater, Flamingos.