This is the beginning of my second week, at home, since being discharged from the hospital. I had spent 5 days on the psychiatric ward. Like most patients, I have needed this time at home, to become well again. There is a fair amount of aftercare needed by doctor’s and therapists, also.
This morning, my husband took me into Boston, to meet with my psychiatrist and therapist. My psychiatrist and I discussed my paranoia, last week. She made a dosage increase, on a new antipsychotic, that I started taking, about 2 weeks ago. We may even double this dosage, in time. I also asked my psychiatrist, if I could go back to work this week. Her response was a firm, solid “NO, That would be just crazy”.
I am feeling less paranoid, at this point, but I still feel very ill, emotionally. Until a few weeks ago, I had been smiling and laughing a lot. I had felt thankful, that my life was better in a lot of ways. Life was not perfect, but it had been a couple of years, since my last hospitalization.
Now, I am feeling a deep sadness, within my inner core, I am feeling defeated, I am feeling like a failure. I am having nightmares almost every night, now that I am starting to sleep again. I am eating only 1 meal a day, and I am a diabetic, so, this is not good. My new antipsychotic, is making me feel very intoxicated in the morning, and seems to be slowing down my thoughts, and actions.
Writing this blog, is very difficult now, because my thoughts are slower, and because I am not well. I have proofread this entry, at east 5 times, in the last 10 minutes, and I keep finding errors in spelling and punctuation. I will continue to try to write it, though.
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Oh heavens no, you are NOT A FAILURE! Got to yell that! Let's see… you have striuggles and obstacles in your life and sometimes they get the better of you? That's pretty normal, actually. I haven't yet met anyone with a perfect life. Everyone I know has suffered something – poverty, ill health (mental/emotional or physical) grief, war or other assorted “moopoo” life throws at us. And ALL of them have moments where they want to give up or try to give up (one person I love has tried suicide four times). Life gets too much and we need time to catch our breath, heal or just “chill” out somewhere quiet. That's not failing – in Nature that's called surviving. You are a survivor, be proud to wear that label. It's an awesome one. You will stumble, get too tired, need help, but ultimately… you are living a life of incredible courage. That is amazing. Plain and simple.Umm… and hi by the way. LOL I forgot to introduce myself. I saw your blog link on a writer's page on Facebook and was curious. I thought, for a moment, you were another friend of mine – Cate. She blogs about her less than perfect life here: http://infinitesadnessorhope.wordpress.com/I sympathise with the slowed down. I've had ongoing physical health issues that have made my brain fuzzy. One of my medications had side-effects that were damaging and it took a year of tests for them to figure it out and by then the damage was done. I used to be really good at typing, but now I struggle some days. And I suffer from General Anxiety Disorder, although I hide it pretty good. Only a few close people know it. I could list more, but I start to remember something I read in a book about the prison camps in WWII. A Rabbi who was in Dachau said that laughter kept them sane. He said, “One terrible thing happening is terrible, two is an appalling tragedy… after that it starts to get funny.”Not that giggling in public in times of mayhem looks sane, but I will admit I thank God for my ability to laugh more than any other gift I've been given. I hope your health balances out soon . I'm going to go browse your blog now. I like your background. I used to hate pink as a child, but lately I'm really liking it. I even changed my blog background to be more pink (sunrise scene).
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Thank you, Michelle, for taking the time to read my blog….And I love what you have to say, about being a survivor!
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🙂 It was meant. I'm lousy at remembering to check blogs, but I have bookmarked yours and HOPEFULLY I'll remember to stop by.
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Hello,
I’m Christine
My name is Christine and I am almost 45 years old. This is my very first blog. I am writing because I feel like I am living in a closet. But I am not gay, I am mentally ill, I have Schizoaffective Disorder. I also have PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder). Not many people know this about me. I have been fearful of “coming out”, because, frankly, the human population has not always been kind to people with mental illness. But isn’t it time that we come to accept all of our bothers & sisters, regardless of their differences?
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My Uncomfortable Mind 
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