Tag: insomnia

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My Own Personal Hell

I have not written in a while. I have also not been okay.

I have had a medication change – a dopamine uptake – and it has helped tremendously. But it is not enough.

I am a wreck for no reason. No reason at all. I battle my head every moment of every day. I obsess, I analyze and my perception becomes fucked up and people end up getting hurt.

I tried to talk to someone, it didn’t work out. I am looking for someone else. I desperately need to get better.

I hurt… I am in constant, agonizing pain and I there is no reason for it. None.

I have not thrown out my old prescriptions… because I believe, one day, I will be compelled to take them all.

Often I count them. I know it takes 2000 mg to cause irreparable damage.
I know that if I take 1200 mg of my current medication, it will cause seizures,  cardiovascular issues and most likely worse.

I should not know this. I don’t want to know this information.

I am not okay, yet I pretend every day that I am. Fake until you make it does not work. It’s exhausting.

 

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“Home”

I live in a constant state of panic, pain, loneliness and fear…

Fear of making mistakes.
Fear of succeeding.
Fear of being sad.
Fear of being happy.
Fear of losing someone.
Fear of keeping them.

A  suffocating darkness has embraced me with such fierceness that I am unable to function or think.  It rarely loosens its grip.
I struggle with emotions, memories and anxiety that are forever present; they are my constant companions. I am left disconnected and incapable of trusting anyone including the truth when it stares me down.

My sense of safety and security has been shattered; I feel helpless and isolated. I am surrounded by people every day yet I feel alone and am incredibly lonely.

I am breathing but I am not alive.
I smile but I am dejected.
I laugh but I feel only despair.
I feel confident yet powerless.

I am stuck in this vicious circle of sadness and inconsolable grief. I don’t know what or who I am grieving. Perhaps myself.

The lure of permanent sleep so strong that I often think it may just be the best thing for me.
Just think… no more tears, no more grief, no more pain, no more turmoil. It has become a horrifyingly beautiful and inviting dream.

The abyss beckons me every day with promises of peace. It is enticing and it has convinced me it is “home.”

… how can I possibly refuse to go … “home”…

 

 

 

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Revelation

We often think ahead or have a certain way of “seeing” our lives unfold.

Today my revelation was that I won’t be here much longer.

This thought troubles me but also brings consolation. It isn’t something I want but somehow I know that I won’t make it much longer.

I hope I am wrong…

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Me

No more promises. No more giving my word.

There was a time I never broke a promise. Now if I make one I WILL break it.

I wish I could be the person I used to be.

Do circumstances really change us this much?

Can we truly ever become better people?

I used to be nice, sweet and trusting. I was giving and I was happy. I never lashed out… I simply moved on.

Now…

I am proof we can become hateful and vicious.

I wish I was “me” again.

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Take me as I am

I am not a religious individual. Even when I was a child I didn’t believe in God.

I’ve always had this feeling of wanting to go “home.” I thought that meant a place or a person. In fact I mean I want a peaceful sleep to never wake from. It means I don’t want to be here and experience this.

For as religious as I am not… today for the first time ever I asked god to take me. I don’t want to go but I feel this indescribable desire to not be here.

I just want peace and I don’t know how to get it. I want to sleep and wake up “normal.” I want him or her to take me already. I just want to go “home.”

I hate that I can’t be “normal.”

I hate that my mother saved my life four years ago.

It takes massive amounts of effort to keep myself here and I am exhausted.

 

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No Help

Decided to discontinue medication. I know the withdrawal symptoms will be horrific but they are not helping and am unwilling to continue to adjust them or switch.

Trial and error does not work for me.

The withdrawal symptoms have begun already and I’ve only missed my dose last night and not taken my morning.

The nausea began last night and is getting more intense. Soon the dizziness will follow, the drop or raise in blood pressure will hit too. I’m just praying they will not last long.

And if they do… hoping alcohol will knock me out so I don’t feel it…

This is the beginning of my giving up…

… wish me luck …

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Moving Forward

Circumstances forge paths you never thought you’d travel let alone consider.

It’s scary and intimidating and it will make you question your actions… your life.

Fear will want to comfortably set in. You will want to give in… curl up, scream and cry and wonder wtf will you do.

You will realize that the actions of others aren’t what they seem but it’s okay because you can see the truth.

This truth will hopefully force you to ignore the fear; and even though you might walk through the dark right now, without direction, you will eventually find light.

You will stumble and fall. You will want to turn around and run back to what you’ve known simply because it’s easy.

But you will also realize that doing so will be the wrong thing to do.

In the end you will thank the very people you are now angry with for forcing you to finally move forward and accomplish your dreams… the dreams you’d given up on for the comforts of familiarity.

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The Pattern of my Life

I have taken a needle and worked my pattern. Patiently, yet mindlessly one stitch at a time.

Today my life’s pattern finally became a full picture:

I have never been ashamed of how quickly I fall or how much I love.

I love fully. I love completely.
I love flaws and imperfections. 

I am incapable of holding back. I want to.
I desperately need to learn to hold back.  

People believe my type of love is beautiful, it isn’t. It comes at a price:

I give in. Always.
I don’t ask for compromises; my number one priority is the other person’s wants, needs and happiness.
I have doubts but don’t voice them.
I immerse myself in the other person so fully, so completely that I see nothing but them.
I allow myself to be used.
My wants and needs are pushed aside.
I become unimportant to myself.

I have lost myself.
I don’t know who I am.
I can’t find any semblance of who I was before.
I have however remained naive and gullible.
I don’t know how to connect with myself.

I don’t know how to change.

How do you change who you are?
How do you turn off your feelings?
How do you harden your heart?
How do you stop thinking?

In the end… I am always left all alone, in love, to pick up every piece of my shattered soul.

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The Future of Me

I want to go home… I want to go home so desperately.
I said this out loud today for the first time ever and it immediately occurred to me that I may never see old age.

I am beginning to believe this is my fate and I don’t even believe in such a thing.

I am beginning to believe I wasn’t mean to be here much longer.

I am beginning to believe that I will never be healthy again.

I want to SCREAM…

How much longer do I have to do this?

Why can’t I be better?

What is wrong with me?

I despise this. I don’t want it. I know it’s not normal. I know it isn’t healthy.

I don’t want this…

I don’t want to stop existing…

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Decisions

I need a change…

Since I came home I have lost myself.

I truly no longer know who I am.

I have lashed out, pushed people away, thrown people away, and have had no compassion for anyone.

Not even myself.

Those who know what I’ve been through these past three years will say it’s ok.

It isn’t. Unintentionally I have become someone I dislike.

I need to become “me” again; whoever that is.

It will not be the trusting, blindly loyal, naive woman I used to be.

I need to be more compassionate and not be so quick to react.

I need to stop allowing the pain and the past to control me.

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Trying

I am me…

I am different.

I am weird.

I am empathetic.

I am crazy.

I am compassionate.

I give 💯 ALWAYS.

I shut down.

I cry.

I laugh.

I hurt.

I am happy.

I am supportive.

I am passionate.

I am a bitch.

I am lovable.

I am quiet.

I am loud.

I am vocal.

I have strong opinions.

I give THE BEST back scratches.

I am a mess.

I am ugly.

I am pretty.

I don’t care enough.

I love too much.

I analyze.

I think too much.

I am an airhead.

I dance.

I sing.

I am a good mom.

I am a good daughter.

I am a good sister.

I am a lover.

And oh yes… I am a fierce fighter.

I am fanatically protective of those I love.

I am a bad pool player.

I am a bad dart player.

I get drunk fast.

I am fun.

I have tattoos.

I am naive.

I am innocent.

I have a dirty mind.

I curse.

I love fiercely.

I am loyal.

I am a douche.

I don’t fit in. I am… ME.

And I don’t care if you like me or not… because I am …

… Made to Stand Out…

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Home

I feel myself slipping. Falling into despair.
I see no way out of this.

I look to the future and I see nothing. It’s frightening.
I am sad, I am angry; I am pathetic.

“I want to go home” keeps playing in my mind again and again. Home isn’t a place… it’s a feeling and I can’t find it. And I desperately want it.

I don’t know how to pull myself out of it. I can’t stop my thoughts. I can’t stop thinking. I don’t know how to get help.

… I want to go home!!!!!!!

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Typical

For the first time I am experiencing typical depression symptoms: I just want to sleep.

I am aware of this and all I want to do is give in. For a minute I did but I also know I NEED to pull myself out of this.

But giving in is so enticing, simply because I am tired of being strong… I am exhausted.

Exhausted pretending I’m okay.

Exhausted pretending things don’t affect me.

Exhausted trying to crawl my way out of despair.

I am holding on to life with bloody fingers as I am slowly losing my grip.

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Uncontrollable Rage

My brain is in overdrive. I can’t stop thinking.

My day began so well and within a few hours I feel uncontrollable rage. And the only thing I can do is cry.

I want to scream.
I want to run.
I want to not return.
I want to hit.
I want someone to dare to challenge me… in any way.
I’m looking for an excuse… any excuse…

I know this isn’t normal…
I know this is bad…

I want to get in my car and drive and not return…
Yet I am glad I don’t have my car this morning for something stupid is sure to follow.

I took another dose of Venlafaxine. I hope it helps.

I rarely feel rage…

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Update

I generally don’t write when I’m feeling well or am happy, as most I would imagine, however, I have not been okay.

Still on the medication, taking it up to three times a day, although to be honest I haven’t really followed this specific routine. I usually take it twice a day.

I know I had mentioned this before….

One morning, a few weeks ago I began feeling “off.”
Sick, dizzy, shivering then hot. I believed my hypoglycemia (I have non-diabetic hypoglycemia) was acting up and checked my glucose levels. They were normal.
My migraines and the pressure headaches returned and I could not shake them.
I even considered vertigo since I could only walk by holding on to the walls without feeling the world spinning. I thought perhaps I hadn’t eaten or had too much caffeine.

As I’m considering all of these it occurs to me: I had not taken my daily dose of Venlafaxine in three or four days.

There was a reason for this. I was happy. I was “normal.” No mood swings, I wasn’t high, I wasn’t low… I was level and just… happy. No depressive episodes; had felt truly happy for a few weeks prior to my stopping the medication

As you can imagine… big mistake.
Huge.

I took my regular dose and within a few hours I felt better. The pressure headaches were still there but all the other symptoms disappeared within a couple of hours of my dose.
Of course, I was never aware of the withdrawal symptoms.

Now I know. I mostly take the medication so I avoid the side effects. I am still questioning its effectiveness.
Although I also wonder if it is effective and I still have issues, would I still be here if I wasn’t? I know the answer to this… it’s No.

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