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Rachel's Story - anxiety & depression, a vicious cycle

I always hear psychologists say that anxiety and depression go hand in hand.  That they tend to feed off of one another.  I have always believed this to be true in my case since I do suffer from long bouts of anxiety coupled with my depression.  In fact, before I was ever thought to have bipolar disorder, I was diagnosed with unipolar depression and generalized anxiety disorder.

 

What I have discovered recently is that, at their worst, depression and anxiety do not coexist simultaneously for me.  That is to say, when I am severely depressed, it seems that my mood is so low that I don’t care about anything.  Nothing worries me.  Everything seems inconsequential.  There is nothing for me to be anxious about.

 

When I am less depressed I have more energy, which translates into anxious thoughts.  Anxiety is terrifying.  I’m always on the defensive, in panic mode.  I become paralyzed.  I’m afraid of the simplest things.  Lately, I’m fearful of being a passenger in the car in icy weather conditions.  I can’t stand being in stores with bright lights and loud sounds and lots of people. Panic sets in.  My heart starts pounding and I feel like I can’t breathe – I’ve got to remove myself from the situation.  Even small holiday gatherings put an amount of stress on me that exceeded my limit…socializing always tends to make me anxious.  I’m trying so hard just to control my symptoms that I cannot focus at all on the conversation or fun that is being had.

 

So I don’t know which is better.  Depression and anxiety are both scary for different reasons and they seem to cycle back and forth unless you stop them with meds and/or Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT).  In my experience, CBT has only been somewhat helpful…I’ve only had one session so far, I will be continuing in a few weeks.  Has anyone else found HOPE in CBT?

 

Happy New Year!

 

Rachel's Story - Week Six in Hospital

Good morning....well, ok, that's pushing it.  It's an ok morning.  I'm home on a weekend pass, so that's good but I haven't been discharged yet and I likely won't be before Christmas.  I'm feeling vulnerable as I write because I'm still very much in the process of trying to pull through this episode of depression, psychosis, mixed-whatever-it-is....I still don't fully comprehend it.  I'll try to be patient and just let it play out.  Not judge.  I thought I would just share some thoughts with you this morning on the off chance it would help someone out there to feel less lonely (or help me to feel less lonely!).  'Tis the season for spreading HOPE after all!  I'm definitely feeling a little more HOPEFUL than I was 6 weeks ago when I was admitted to hospital, so if there's HOPE for me, there's got to be HOPE for others too, logically.  Each time I'm admitted to the hospital the doctors take it as an opportunity to test my reaction to many psychiatric medications very quickly without worrying about side effects because of the safety the hospital provides.  I have been on 16 different psychiatric meds in the past two years. Effexor. Lorazepam. Prozac. Lamotrigine. Zopiclone. Celexa. Clonazepam. Carbemazepine. Lithium. Seroquel. Seroquel XR. Olanzepine. Epival. Invega. Topamax. Wellbutrin.  Each of these meds comes with their own particular side effects and withdrawal symptoms.  I've suffered from many, from mild to dramatic, including dry mouth, nausea, vomiting, memory loss, and a grand mal seizure.   So, this time, while I've been in the hospital, I've eaten up a large portion of my list of possible meds yet to try.  This means, either: 1) I am that much closer to finding a combination of meds that works OR 2) I'm about to prove to everyone that, just as I have always felt when I have been most depressed, there is no possible combination for me in terms of pills, we've been wasting our time, and maybe I need some kind of other alternative therapy (has anyone else ever heard about the pig farmer???).  Either way, it's a win-win situation for me.

Rachel's story - i'm in hospital

I want to write briefly today just to inform everyone that I have been hospitalized. That's the reason that I have not written for the past two weeks. Only now do I have access to a computer. I feel like I cannot trust my own mind these days; many times my thoughts are not realistic, accurate or at all positive. But I think it's a good sign that at least I'm able to recognize this. I am fighting hard and am hoping to be back soon, sharing my experience in an effort to feel less lonely and help others feel less lonely too.

Rachel's Story - when mania takes hold...

My first manic symptoms began when I was in university (about 7 years ago), at about the same time that the depressive symptoms began to have a dangerously negative impact on my life.  I have always had much longer bouts of depression than mania.  They are equally vivid & painful to me because the mania, though fun at first, often results in a suicidal climax (don’t know if anyone else experiences this?).  I’ll do my best to describe it, but I can’t help feeling that my language skills are totally ineffectual in portraying the experience.

Sometimes it’s like a carnival in my head.  Thoughts swirl around with excessive speed and volume.  And often, even the most mundane things become hilarious to me.  I lose all self-control and nearly fall to the ground in uproarious laughter.  I write furiously, trying to capture all the “brilliant” ideas flooding my mind – especially at night.  I make long lists of things I will have to investigate…money-making schemes, art projects, areas of study, musical instruments to master, things I suddenly just HAVE to buy, etc.  Often my ideas lead me to the computer, where I conduct frantic internet searches looking for the fastest way to order a certain product (book, makeup, TRIP TO BRAZIL), which I’m spontaneously determined to have that VERY instant.  I abandon each “project”/new interest as quickly as I acquired it, swiftly moving on to the next impulsive goal.  I feel GREAT - uncharacteristically social and confident.  (This is all very embarrassing to admit from my current, depressed frame of mind….)  When I go out in public, I feel like a celebrity.  It seems like people can’t take their eyes off of me.  Like everyone secretly wishes they could be like me.  I’m suddenly convinced that I’m excessively talented, attractive and intelligent and that all of these special characteristics were given to help me achieve some greater purpose.  Almost like I could save the world.  I feel like God has a direct line to me and I’m on a special mission.  (I have so much shame in admitting this but I’m thinking maybe others have had this experience too?)  At a certain point, though, it all becomes too much.  I become frustrated, angry, irritable and even suicidal.  In fact, for me, the manic times have almost always been accompanied by suicidal feelings.  This is by far the most terrifying time in my battle with bipolar disorder.  I’m impulsive and agitated and moving quickly.  I’m self-destructive and suicidal and all control just seems to slip away from me.  Things lose meaning and sense.  I feel overpowered until I don’t even want to fight anymore because eventually I find myself totally exhausting.

FirefightersStory-Need to Take Care of Myself-Sorry

I MUST apologize to everyone as I will not be able to write my sunday weekly installment. I have said many times here that I must know my limitations, and I have to continually learn to take care of myself by putting myself first at times, which is so very difficult for me to do, because it is not in my nature to do so. Right now though, is one of those times. I must. The events of the last couple of weeks have taken an extreme toll on myself emotionally. I have ABSOLUTELY NO REGRETS though! This must be stated and for those who know me, and for others who read the blog about my many adventures and suffering with PTSD and all that accompany's this, must not worry please. The cause of raising awareness that I believe in so very strongly, and am committed to, has not left me any less determined, but it has left me needing to try to take care of myself now in order to continue on.
I have seen and heard of so very many successes in the last couple of weeks since the kickoff breakfast for the Royal Ottawa's awareness campaign headed, by Mr Alfredsson, the Ottawa Senators hockey captain, and the "You know who i am" campaign. The successes I have heard about fill me with so much joy.
Unfortunately though, there has been a very strong resistance by some, and this resistance has been against me personally, and has affected me very negatively in so many ways. I cannot explain any of the details, as the details must stay confidential.
Suffice to say though, I must retreat for a hopefully short period of time to do what is necessary to take care of not only myself, but the most important people in my life, my family.
I am hoping this will be a short respite and break before I return to continue writing and hopefully being able to help others, and to face the adversity and challenges associated with trying to effect changes for everyone for the good of all.
Thank you very much, Larry

Rachel's Story - secret exposed

I started university at the age of 17 and was really passionate about my chosen subject, theatre.  Unfortunately, though, it was at this time that what I now realize were symptoms of manic-depression (bipolar disorder) began to really emerge and intrude on my everyday life.  I complained constantly to my mom about being tired and unmotivated.  Periods of depression much like the ones I described last week continued intermittently, seemingly without a trigger.  I remember several occasions where I would be driving at night and have to pull the car over to the side of the road because I could no longer see for all the tears streaming down my face.  It felt like my emotions were out of control.

 At other times, I was angry and irritable, frustrated with nearly everything and everyone.  It seemed like no one I encountered could do anything correctly or fast enough.    Oftentimes, my patience expired and I took it out on the people I love most: my family.  Because of this, I lost my self-esteem.  I felt so guilty about the terrible way I was treating them.  I started to believe I was just a mean person, intrinsically bad.  On one occasion I remember going to my brother in tears, begging for him to forgive me for the disrespectful way I had treated him; I was panic-stricken about potentially losing my best friend.  I explained that I had lost all control, that every moment of my life these days was just so difficult, I was struggling minute by minute to exist in this world and keep from killing myself.  It was the first time I’d admitted to anyone that I was suicidal.  I was using so much energy trying to keep this to myself, not to let it show…it was a BIG secret.  I can still remember so vividly how torturous and alone that felt.  Once I admitted my suicidal feelings to my brother I developed even more guilt, this time about asking him to protect my secret…I had begged him not to tell our parents.  He encouraged me to go to them, telling me that he knew they would be supportive and would want to know.  I was still far too ashamed, though, to take that step.  My brother told me through tears that he loved more than anything in the world and that his whole existence would be devastated if I ended my life.  He said he would do anything he could to help me.  His words were enough.  They didn’t stop my suicidal feelings, but they were enough to prevent me from following through.  My mind was still rational enough at that point for this to be an obvious, valid reason to keep fighting.