Try, Fail, Try, Fail, Try, Fail Ad Infinitum

A strange dynamic takes place on a regular basis in my therapy. I will sit across from Dr. X. and protest that I can't cook, eat well, clean, keep up, take care of myself etc. (which prior to the protest is the case)...and then either later that day or the next I end up doing the very thing I could not do earlier.

This happened last night. On Thursday I proclaimed an absolute inability to cook, eat well etc. Last night I had two friends over, made a beautiful salad of various types of lettuce and garden greens, mangoes, avocados, eggs and black beans. I cooked fresh corn; melted brie with roasted garlic and served it with a fresh baguette. I made raspberry vinaigrette salad dressing. Both the food and the process of cooking was enjoyable and seemed easy.

I believe my whining in therapy about the things I can't do rallies the fighter inside me to actually do that for which I confess a lack of motivation and ability.

I am a fighter, but I get tired of fighting to survive all the time. Last night I ate more vegetables than I have this entire month. Unfortunately, based on previous experience I probably won't manage to succeed like that again for a while.

Despite a sense of connectedness with my friends last night, this morning I feel morose, detached, and wish I weren't here. I walked the dog and most of the time I was somewhere else; some of the time visions of my hanging myself; separating my head from my body, ending my struggle forever washed through my head. I really wish I could either succeed at getting well, or get the courage to delete myself from this life. I can't seem to manage either.

All these experiences of trying so hard to pull myself out of the black pit that is my hell, and all the experiences of failing so miserably at doing so have led to my feeling an intense sense of learned helplessness. Giving up seems like the obvious next step.

I Am Disappearing

My sister and nieces have just left. I feel tired and exhausted. I feel nothing. We went bowling this morning and I cheered, and yelled good job when my nieces were bowling. I went through all the motions of being a supportive and loving Aunt, but inside I felt nothing. No love, no excitement, no passion...I felt gone; somewhere else, like I had disappeared.

I can't explain. If you saw me with my family you would believe I was a great Aunt, all loving and kind. I am not, because it is all a facade. I am really an empty vessel. A body missing its soul. The material that is left behind when the spiritual dissipates into the wind.

I am disappearing more and more every day. I can "act" like I am something, and almost fake my way through my daily routine. I can act, that is, if I can find the energy to act. Otherwise I lay in bed unable to move, or do anything. I am so tired and sleep does nothing for me. I hate this life.

Waves

Radiohead: Reckoner(from "In Rainbows" album)

...I love Radiohead and feel like the mood of this song right now. At one point the lyrics say: "You are not to blame..." This is hard to believe, but I want so desperately to KNOW that.

When I was a child the waves were a giant toy to be played with,
Now they threaten to drown me.

It is so Difficult Most of the Time

Two incredible bloggers, Lola, from "Marine Snow" , and Hannah, from "Becoming Hannah" posted a comment on my post titled, "Benevolent Structure".

Hannah's blog reflects upon her struggles with Borderline Personality Disorder, and Lola writes about her challenges living with an eating disorder; both work through the blackness of depression on a regular basis. I feel so much in common with both these bloggers. There comments reverberated a common difficulty I am sure many people with mental illnesses encounter: Motivation difficulties.

Hannah writes that with the people around to encourage her to create she creates. Home alone, with all the tools, materials etc. to create she has a difficult time getting going. In her words: "I need someone to nudge me along otherwise I scrabble back under the duvet and curse myself.".

Lola's comment is different, but I think is a similar problem. She writes that the more she stays in bed, the more she wants to, and does, stay in bed. She writes, "If I don't get up with a purpose on a Saturday then i spend all weekend in bed moping, sort of like this weekend. Trouble is I am so exhausted by a Friday, that the only thing which gets me through is the thought of a lie in on the Saturday!!!"

I relate so much to both comments it is frightening. I have pretty much stayed in bed since Friday at 4:30, only getting up to walk the dog, blog and go to a Flamenco show I had committed to seeing on Saturday Night. Like Hannah, I need a pull, a tug, a commitment to get going...that's okay, many people who are well need that too.

Like Lola's experiences...the more I slept, the more I NEEDED to sleep. In fact right now I want so badly to crawl back into bed. I have already given up trying to paint this morning (I managed for about 15 minutes and simply couldn't do it)

To top it all off last night at the Flamenco show I had huge problems with "disappearing" and "disconnecting" at the Flamenco show last night. I found myself unable to talk, or feel like I belonged during the wine and cheese reception afterwards, and during the show I kept dissociating.

However...had I not gone to the show I would have missed two of the most incredible Flamenco dances I have ever seen. Both were by the same dancer and I have NEVER seen so much passion in flamenco before. It is always passionate, sensual and outright sexual, but this dancer had the ability to drag me out of my dissociative state, to hold my interest.

I felt her dancing inside my body, in the way your body reacts to a sexual come on, or enticement. It was amazingly erotic. The only way I got out last night was by making a commitment to a friend to go. I would have missed two stunning dances, and would not have known of this dancer had I not known. I discovered she dances at different venues around the city...now I have something I enjoyed that I can experience again.

Sleep is a narcotic. It pulls you in and holds you hostage. The more sleep I get the more I want to sleep. Depression is like a drug too. The more you succumb to its power, the more you stop doing things because you don't have the motivation, or the energy, or the will, the more power depression gains on you. It is so difficult. It is not easy. It requires external help to both create and participate in a benevolent schedule of activities.

1. For me that external help is a little caring "pressure" from Dr. X...a few questions about what I am doing next week, a soft commitment to do them, and a desire to please him, is in part what keeps me mostly on track.
2. Commitments with friends to visit, to do activities, and sometimes a gentle competition between us to do the things we want to do, helps me too.
3. Commitments to others (like volunteering to teach art) keeps me getting out of bed, even if I don't want to.
4. A commitment and love for my dog gets me outside at least a few times a day, rain or shine

...and you get the picture. This benevolent structure only happens if I have a caring structure in place to get me moving, to get me out of bed, to make me want to be actively participating in my life. ...and no it isn't easy. It sucks sometimes and it is always hard work. I do however believe in the long run it will pay off for me.

Arghhhhhhhhhhh! I feel so angry for NO reason.

Something is wrong. I feel so wired I am buzzing. My husband says I am talking fast and extremely irritable. He says I am talking over him and interrupting, being "pushy" and loud he says. I see it too. I feel out of control.

Yesterday I woke up and inside I felt like blowing up. I felt rage like I have not felt for a long time. The rage where I want to destroy the house or beat down all the bushes in the yard. I feel speedy inside; like I am FULL of adrenaline. It is not a good feeling. My heart is racing in my chest to the point that sometimes it is feeling like it is jumping, "buddle ump", or fluttering.

I feel confused and find myself pacing back and forth in the house...it seems like I am pacing in preparation to do something, but I always get into the room and forget why I went there and what was so urgent that I get there NOW.

This morning I woke with the same feeling: extreme anger, rage filled, irritable, cranky, speedy, get out of my way or I will run you over and keep going. I haven't been sleeping at all. Dr. X gave me a prescription for 10mg Doxepin to help me sleep. He says it can help with the later sleep cycles. So it helps people SATY asllep. Which has always been my big problem. Usually I fall asleep no problem. I just cannot stay asleep. Recently though that has changed too. I lay in bed awake for what seems like forever and cannot get to sleep, or stay asleep. It is getting worse.

I was taking 100 mg Trazadone and it was doing nothing. I don't think the doxepin is helping and even though the dose is small I think it is contributing to some of my feelings of strangeness in the morning. I feel buzzy, speedy, off kilter, tippy, unfocused...strange, fuzzy, a bit of a sleep med hangover even though I can't sleep? There is a feeling of depersonalization on some level...like I am not completely in my body. I am not me.

Previously, I thought maybe I was staying awake because the dog was on the bed, but last night I put the dog on the floor and realized it has probably been me keeping the dog awake, rather than him keeping me awake. He slept like the baby he is. I on the other hand rolled around and tried to sleep all night; catching snippets of sleep here and there only to find myself awake not long later. I was awake almost all night last night and the night before.

Maybe I am just not used to this much energy. I have been off Valium for about 3 - 4 weeks now and I am going off Tegretol (I am down to 400mgs from 1000mgs). Maybe the Prozac and Dexedrine is energizing me in a way it couldn't when I was on a mood stabilizer. That is the point of my going off the Tegretol and Valium, to energize me. Why is it when I get more energy I start worrying it is too much energy?

I think maybe because it doesn't feel like the good energy I have when I am well, or when I am even "high". It feels uncomfortable, obsessive, speedy and really irritating and negative. Arghhhhhhhhhhhh!

Helpless and Hopeless

(aqua, study in charcoal of a poppy/2005)

That helpless/hopeless feeling is setting in again. That sense that I am falling deeper and deeper into depression again and no matter what I do, or how much I struggle I remain intensely fatigued, depressed, apathetic, dissociative/depersonalized, confused, isolating and unable to sleep.

I want to hide out, in bed, in my back room with the curtains closed. I am so angry at myself for being this way. When my thoughts turn to angry depression I begin visualizing about ways and places and times to hang myself, suffocate myself...die. I feel like my life will never get back on track.

It takes all my energy to get going in the morning, even to take the dog for a short walk, or to write this post, and those are things I usually like to do. Everything seems like a chore: a dreaded chore. The real chores, housework, cooking etc. ,simply are not getting done and it is making me feel intensely guilty for not contributing to the running of our household, and my husband increasingly hostile towards my "laziness".

On top of feeling helpless/hopeless I had that same feeling of dread I had last week as I headed to teach my Youth Art Class Monday night. I tried to sleep all day in preparation for it, but just lay there awake wishing I didn't have to go. At 2: 00ish I dragged myself out of bed and went to class. When it began I felt myself becoming more social than I expected. At the same time I also felt it was harder than usual to do.

When I woke up Tuesday morning I wanted so badly to not go teach my drawing class that morning. I felt I just couldn't do it anymore. I feel overwhelmed with two classes and a puppy to look after. However, I pushed myself, because I committed to teach the class.

On my way to class, despite my exhaustion, apathy, and depression; I also felt an intense sense of ennui. That made me begin to thinking maybe I need to do more, not less, stimulating, "scheduled/regular", work like things everyday. Maybe my husband is right. Maybe I should get back to work.

If I am at home all I feel I can do is lay down,sleep, or watch t.v. If I am doing something work like at least, for a while, I get a sense of accomplishment, and my mood lifts while involved and distracted.

The problem is I cannot even manage to do what I want and/or need to do: like keep my house clean, cook, grocery shop, do household chores and even paint like I want to. How do I work more when I can't manage the little I do now?

I feel extremely frustrated by my lack of stability, by my not working, and by my not contributing. These all feed my bad mood and anger. I know that. I know I need to do more, but how?

Loss

I am at my sister's. She lives about 250 km from me, in the town my Mom used to live in before she died. I used to come to this town all the time, but since Mom died it is almost impossible for me to come here. It feels empty and I feel alone and sad, even when surrounded by the family I love.

Yesterday I drove to the house my Mom used to live in. I haven't been there since she passed away. I pulled over at the side of the road across from her house and sobbed. I am crying right now. The loss of my Mom and how it has affected me is impossible to relay. I loved her more than anything in the world and three years after her death I am still having a really difficult time accepting I will never see her again.

I have been at my sister's for a few days now. I love my sister and her kids so much, but I feel more alone with them, than I do when I am alone at home. We rarely talk about Mom, and I feel like my presence is a reminder to her of our loss, and her presence is a reminder to me of that loss. I just want to go home, but I have to go to a family wedding today.

I am dreading it, in the same way I dreaded that party two weeks ago. I already feel dissociative and I'm not even there yet. I am exhausted and afraid of all the people I will have to be someone else for. All I want to do is go back to bed.

Outside the Circle

I went to a big party on Thursday. First, I hate big gatherings. Something about them always send me into a dissociative state. Actually I know exactly what it is about them that sends me both metaphorically, and in my mind, literally, out of the room during these occasions: Social Anxiety.

If you met me one on one, in person, your first reaction would be that I am outgoing and social, you may even find me interesting, because I keep up on day to day issues, am well read, educated, talkative, a good conversationalist, caring, kind and interested in your stories. You would believe I had the ability to talk to anyone, because I am usually really good at projecting that persona and, to tell you the truth, I usually can talk to anyone for brief periods of time.

I say usually, because often I approach a social gathering and I feel like I am not really there. It feels like I am sitting on the outside looking in. At these times, even when I am talking to someone I get the impression that the conversation could be carried on without me, and that others are being dismissive, or rejecting me, or that I am brutally uninteresting and my conversation skills have disappeared.

At the party the other day the whole time I felt like an outsider looking in. Some of it may have been the people at the party, but most of it was me. It was a birthday party for one of our friends, who happens to be one of the wealthiest people in this city. His house is a 13000 (yes thousand) square foot heritage home on an acre and a half lot in the exclusive area of the city. Our friends are beautiful people. They are involved in tons of charitable work and do so much for so many organizations here. I really care for them and when I am at there house for a small dinner party I always enjoy their company.

Thursday was different. The guest list was filled with some of the most elite, powerful and wealthiest people in the city. And there I was, no job, no money and a chronic mental illness; feeling like the prospects for my future were slim. It is not the lack of money that made me feel like an outsider, but the lack of a life that felt worthy of being there.

I tried to make conversations with numerous people, and of course the first question out of people's mouths is always, "what do you do"? I decided before the party that I was going to say I taught art classes, which is sort of true. I do volunteer to do that 3 hours a week.

So a party goer would start talking to me, ask me what I did. I would say I teach drawing classes. They would then ask where. I was stupidly unprepared for this question, but impulsively decided to tell the truth. "I teach art at a clubhouse for people with mental illnesses". I may as well have said I have a mental illness. The conversations became stilted and always ended abruptly.

One person asked me where I taught classes and I told them. They said "oh I do work for the Boys and Girls club in that area. I asked him what kind of work he did for the club. He looked at me like I was out of my mind to not know who he was and haughtily said, "I don't WORK there, I am on the board of Directors". He then promptly turned away from me and began talking to someone else. After sitting there staring at their backs while they exclude me from their conversation I finally got up and left the area. I felt like a pariah.

So I spent the rest of the party sitting by myself, having anxiety attacks and just waiting until it felt like I had put in a reasonable amount of "face" time. At 10:00 I excused myself, thanked the hosts and got in my car. I burst out into tears. All I ever want is to feel accepted for who I am.

I can't tell you how many times at that party I just got up and went and sat in the bathroom to get away from the feeling that I was a complete outsider; to feel some relief from an intense, shameful shyness and sensitivity that was making it impossible to interact. The more scared and alone I felt, the more I began having dissociation and feelings of depersonalization.

In My Bubble

This past week I went to see my sister and my nieces, all of whom I love so much, but I could feel nothing. I spent a great deal of my time there struggling against my self disappearing into a frustratingly detached state. I call it being "in my bubble". I think it is what is referred to as dissociation or maybe depersonalization. As I slip back into depression I find myself spending more and more time either sleeping or, even worse, in my bubble.

Usually this type of feeling is brought on by extreme stress, typically intense social anxiety, or fears that I will embarrass myself or look stupid, or fears I will be rejected. I talked with Dr. X about how I have been feeling in my bubble this past week. I don't really understand what we were talking about in our appointment this morning.

I think he was explaining to me that when I get in that state it would be better for me to just "be" in that state, rather than both be in the state and berate myself for being there.

When I got home I thought of a funny story my sister told me this weekend. It seems when she was in her early 20's she smoked some extreme pot with a friend and some people she didn't know that well. She said she was so high that inside her head she kept repeating "Just say something!,Just say something!, Just say something!", over and over, but nothing would come out of her mouth until suddenly, in a really loud voice she said, "SAY SOMETHING"!

....I laughed so hard when she told me that story, but her description of her inner turmoil while stoned sounds so much like my inner dialogue when I begin to go into my bubble, and when I come out of it. I begin to feel aware of myself slipping away. I suddenly am detached from everything. I can't see, hear, touch, smell anything. I'm gone.

Then just as suddenly I come out of it. I feel so scared and afraid I must look completely bizarre, or that people will have noticed me "gone", but no one has ever said anything. Given other's reactions to my behaviour I can only surmise too much time does has not passed while I was stuck in my bubble.

I have other experiences like this that are so distressing. Not sure why, but it seems to happen in large stores, especially grocery stores. I feel like I've left my body and am hovering above myself. I feel myself getting all clammy, like I'm going to faint, I begin to panic and then I'm gone. This sometimes happens when I am in a stressful group situation, for example with people I do not know that well, or even with people I know well when I am feeling severely depressed and anxious. It is as though I am "outside the circle": a detached third party viewing myself and others from outside myself.

In both types of situations I feel "stuck in the sensation" of not being there. I want to be in the moment, but feel completely disconnected from it. I begin slipping away and there is nothing I can do to stop it from happening. It is an awful feeling; almost as though I am a ghost of a person and existence is surreal, or experienced through a veil or from a distance.

I don't really understand what Dr. X was trying to get me to do, or understand. Was he saying to just let go and give in to slipping away. Let go, don't struggle and accept these sensations as part of who I am? How do I do that?

It is Gone.

I have lost my joy and all that is left is extreme fatigue, depression, apathy, grinding, tapping, clenching teeth and a desire to sleep all day long.

I just got back from a visit to my youngest sister's. I should have felt joyful and intense love, because I know I feel that about her and my nieces, but I felt nothing.

I found myself disappearing into my bubble...my description of when I dissociate. I feel like I am all of a sudden covered in a bubble that shuts out all the sounds and any kind of sensory perceptions. I stay in the bubble and then it suddenly disappears and I am back from wherever I was and the sounds and sights flood back into my head.

I had a few panic attacks this weekend at my sister's...almost fainting a couple times, getting that clammy I am disappearing and going to pass out feeling. I was so spacey most of the weekend that I was tripping and falling all the time. In fact, in one of my dissociative experiences I fell down my sister's stairs and really, really hurt myself. I landed on my behind and both my arms. I thought I broke my arm and was afraid to get up, because it felt almost exactly like when I broke my elbows...throbbing agonizing pain.

I finally managed to get up, but a few hours later I notice my arms were both covered in massive bruises. I have a monster sized bruise on my backside that is so black and huge it is frightening.
The next day I woke up and I was having a hard time using my right arm. It's okay now though, but it looks like someone beat me up.

I am so clutzy; always have been. I have broken so many bones and hurt myself accidentally so many times that it really does shock people how often I fall, break bones, get in accidents etc. I think it is because I disappear and the real world keeps on going.

I find it hard to visit my little sister, because she lives in the same town my mom lived in. God I miss my Mom. It feels like I have a huge empty hole in my heart where she used to sit. I seem to miss her even more this year than the first year after she passed away. My sister said the same thing. My Mom's Birthday is coming up soon, so that seems to trigger so much grief in me. To be honest, I still think I am in denial about her dying. It feels like I am just stuck in some horrible nightmare that I can't wake up out of. I wish it had been me and not her. She had so much to give the world; so much love, so much compassion, so much more to live for. I really do wish we could have switched places. I would give anything for that.

What is Happening to Me?

I don't understand what is happening to me right now. I haven't slept more than 2 hrs straight and and average of 3-5 hours total a night. I have more energy, but it is BAD energy. I am feeling so much anxiety that today I began panicking at the laundromat. I couldn't breathe and I began feeling like my body was swirling and I was going to faint and then I just felt dissociative...like I was outside myself, or covered in foam or something was between me and reality.

I went on a trip to a dude ranch/spa last week. I did lots of things that should have been relaxing and fun; horseback rides, hayrides, ATVing, massages, facials, body wraps, swimming...all things I would usually enjoy and find relaxing. I went with my sister and her kids who I always love to be with. This time it was different though. I did not feel anything good at all.

I could not feel any of the enjoyment...all I felt was intense anxiety and bad energy surging through me. I felt disconnected from every thing I did and everyone I did it with. I enjoyed nothing. I was so anxious the whole time I couldn't sleep. If I did manage to fall asleep it was for an hour here and there. I would wake up having anxiety attacks all through the night.

I can't take much more of this. I don't know what to do. I feel like I have tried every medication out there...like all has attempts to become well have failed and there is nothing that will help me. I feel helpless, hopeless and lost.

My husband is after me for not enjoying anything anymore. I tried to explain that is a symptom of my depression and anxiety...the joy disappears from life. He keeps talking to me like I'm choosing to be this way. Get a job and you will feel better, he says. He just doesn't get that I am ill and if I felt like I could manage a job, I would be the first one to go get one, but I can barely manage to get out f bed, or do the dishes, or the housework. How can I get a job when all I want is to die?

I am trapped. All I want is to die, but I cannot hurt my sisters by allowing myself to die, so I stay for them. I am trapped in this hell forever. God I hate this existence...please just let me die.