staring at trees
So I went back to the psychiatrist yesterday, because stuff just hasn't been working for me, and something needed to change, and fast, because I sorta felt like I was trying to run a marathon stuck in quicksand. I was trying and trying, and still every day was getting harder and harder to take. So I went in to one of the normal drs, who gave me another prescription for the fast-acting panic attack meds and took me to the front to get an appointment with the shrink. He changed my meds to something thats supposed to be better for panic disorder and PTSD, and so I started switching over last night, taking half of my old meds with half of the new meds. Today I feel sort of weird, like I stare at things a little longer than normal, and I've just been sort of dreamy. It's not bad, except that I doubt whether I'm gonna be able to concentrate on anything today, and my body just feels sort of weak. Not like I can't move or walk or something, but sort of like I don't want to. I'm hoping that I'll feel more normal when the new medicine has properly titrated into my system, because I definitely feel more relaxed, just maybe a little too relaxed in some ways (but even THAT is a huge improvement.) I did okay last night taking half of one of the sleeping pills with one of the fast-acting anxiety things. Wasn't the perfect sleep, but then my normal sleep was never perfect sleep, and at least I got some rest and theres the potential for making the rest of my sleeping pills last longer, and maybe stop taking them entirely, which would be nice. I kind of feel like a human medicine cabinet right now.
It's been really hard lately. I've come to the realization that my anxiety comes from something like this "one of my good friends seemingly lost her mind ----> the mind is such a fragile thing, and none of us saw it coming ------> ergo, how do I know that it won't happen to me? Holy shit, what if it happens to me?!?!?" sort of thing. My mom and Chris both tell me it won't happen to me, that I'm a different person than she was, that I could never hurt anyone.... but obviously her husband laid down next to her every night... if he'd thought for a second this could happen, he would have done something, so obviously he had no clue... what makes them think they'd somehow know if I was going that way? Tully and my mom both pointed out, though, that the first thing I did when this whole thing started was to go into the dr and counselor for help. I guess at least that's something. I'm just so damned tired of feeling defective. I just want to feel like me again.
posted by Cat Named Eggroll @ 10:31 AM
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