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Atra

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  1. Like
    Atra reacted to nhaar for a blog entry, Adults self-harm too   
    Hear me out, I want to talk about something important.
    Adults self-harm too. I know it because I am a 34-year-old woman, married and a mother of three and I cut and abuse prescription medicines and other medicines. 
    Self-harm is not just teenagers' previlege. It's not just childish attention seeking. People cut for various reasons. Sure some are doing it for attention but also to relieve anxiety, feeling of control, punish themselves or maybe they are hearing voices that tell to do so. 
    For me cutting is a symptom of my manic-depressive illness. I am doing it because my brain constantly challenges me to do that. I don't hear voices, it's my own mind that makes me hurt myself. My brain is telling me to cut myself and I rarely can resist because my illness is in a very bad place right now. 
    I am at home this weekend. I came on Friday and will go back to ward Sunday evening. Weekend has been very good except for constant battle against my brain. I am proud of myself that I haven't taken any extra pills. Cutting however has been an issue this weekend.
    I had promised myself that I would never cut my wrists or arms. This weekend it happened. I cut my wrist. And I cut deeper than before. I know I will have to tell this to a nurse and doctor. And I am so stressed out my family members to see what I have done. They wouldn't understand. To be honest, I am not sure how I will convince the doctor that my brain is making me do this. 
    I am also having suicidal thoughts. Self-harm is different and is not related to suicidal thoughts. Just like self-harm thoughts my brain is feeding me ideas of k i l l i n g myself. I know both thoughts will fade away when I get better. 
    If you are self-harming, seek for help. I would also like to hear from you if you find any of this familiar. 
  2. Like
    Atra reacted to Bulgakov for a blog entry, Notes of an Amateur Disorderist   
    You don't have to be Sherlock Freud to figure this one out.  Someone has exposed part of the brain on driver's right, and sprinkled that gold glitter used in craft projects over the area.  It may look fashionable, but will indeed cause a host of "abnormal activity of neural circuits," as mentioned.  Even the regular, "breath in . . . now let it out," request from your doc can cause slight B.B.D., "ballooning brain disorder", followed by D.B.D., "deflating brain disorder."  Only try this under the supervision of a trained cosmetician. 
    Early data mining indicates the practitioner had a heavy hand on the glitter/snow shaker on operation day.  The result, increased activity in the frontal lobe, and a heavy dusting of fake snow, subject announced he felt cold.  Conversely, when gold glitter is decreased in the parietal and temporal areas, subject asked that a window be opened.  
     
     

    (People, this is a joke.  Please don't try it, anywhere. B)
  3. Thanks
    Atra reacted to nhaar for a blog entry, Life in a psychiatric hospital   
    This is my fifth day in a hospital. I thought of writing you guys what it's like to be here. I am writing from North of Europe so my experience may be somewhat different from yours. 
    I am having lot of trouble concentrating so let's see how I work this out. 
    A typical day starts at 730am with a breakfast and distribution of morning meds. Nurses will wake you up and ensure you have some breakfast. 
    After the breakfast and meds everybody gather in a common room for a morning info. A nurse tells about today's program and deal with a different topics like anxiety, feelings, sleep etc. 
    Before a lunch you can participate in groups. There's different groups available from Monday to Friday. I haven't taken part in any yet but I have signed up for one group next week. It's for parents who have a mental illness. I think it deals with how to tell children about a mental illness. 
    Lunch is served at 1130am. Food here is pretty good. At 130pm is coffee time. Coffee is not that good here but I get used to it. Coffee is very important for finns and I think we consume more coffee than any other nation. Or that's what I have read. 
    Days go by quite slowly here. Meals are  highlight of the day and set the pace of the day. There are some activities available like books, magazines, a computer, a tv, puzzles and of course socializing with other patients. Dinner is served at 430pm. This is not a closed ward so you can go outside for a walk, run errands, meet family and friends or visit home.
    You have to talk with your nurse if you want to go somewhere. I am not allowed to visit home this week because I am suicidal but I'll go tomorrow to my parents with my family. I think my sister is coming too with her family. I will be away for three hours and get back by six o'clock when I have to take meds. 
    There is a nurse for every patient morning shift and evening shift. Nurses usually come to talk once during the shift but they are available if you need to talk more. There's three nurses on my team but I also meet other nurses than those three who are responsible of my treatment. 
    A supper and evening meds are served at 730pm. Patients take care of serving it. Every room has a kitchen shift when they are responsible of serving the supper and cleaning up. It's part of the treatment. 
    Some patients watch tv in the evening, some patients prefere staying in their rooms. I usually stay in my room. I talk with other patients when eating but I don't socialize much except with my roommate. My roommate doesn't spend much time in our room so I get to be here alone. 
    My mood has been quite good here. I mostly feel safe and relieved here. My concentration and capacity are weak so I don't do much. I lie in my bed and message with friends and family. Or try to write on different forums like this. 
    That is pretty much a typical day in a psychiatric ward. I hope I was able to give you a glimpse of my days.
    I will add some photos too. 
     
     



  4. Like
    Atra reacted to MrMisery for a blog entry, Day one   
    Things aren't easy right now. This illness hits like a freight train sometimes. I've got very dark thoughts rushing through my head. I've thought about ending myself a few hundred times today, and I instinctively want to be away from people because I don't want them to see how pathetic I am, and my life is.
     
    It's an illness. Thoughts that aren't backed up by anything, but they're fed to me by my brain, which I need to be able to trust, and I cannot. Then I guess I cannot, and I'll need to find a way to work around that.
     
    Today I woke up, worked out, did my book work, pulled around a twelve hour day at work, spent a couple of hours hanging out with a woman who's starting to mean a fair bit to me. It's a good day I guess. The work out was good too;  for some reason my numbers have gone up despite not having worked out in months... maybe I'm just more emotional now, and that's helping? I don't know, you've got to take the small victories I guess.
     
    I've got a migraine too, and have had for the past many hours. There's this torrential downpour of horrible thoughts I'm trying to keep at bay, and my head is aching as a result.
     
     
    So I'm losing right now, that's fine, that's part of it. Minimise the damage, and push through, wait until things swing in the other direction and keep building every little positive element of my life that I can to help bring more positive things in. I'll lose if I have to, for as long as I have to, and I'll use that suffering as a driving force to keep me going.
     
    Come at me.
  5. Like
    Atra reacted to MrMisery for a blog entry, Turning it around   
    I lost the fire in my heart many months ago.
    I've been trying to get it back, to psych myself up and find the drive to keep on going and get to a better day.
    I thought I had found some place of relative strength, and I became complacent.
    I've got a million reasons why I'm too weak right now to take this fight. It doesn't matter, life isn't that empathetic.
    We go back to basics, we take simple wins and build on them.
    Rise in the am. Do your book work, workout, build on and maintain relationships. Let every step be as hard as it needs to be, but let every step taken be a direct attack upon my illness, and another victory.
    Let's take this fight.
  6. Like
    Atra reacted to Floor2017 for a blog entry, My Place Of Refuge   
    When I need to get away for a hour or two
    I just go to my quite place and feed the 
    fish and catch my dinner for a Picker Upper 
  7. Sad
    Atra reacted to allalone6 for a blog entry, 2019   
    So I tried for 9 days from just before christmas to new years to try to make arrangements with an acquaintance to give her and her daughter a christmas present. some texts didnt get answered til days later, and some had excuses and the last one, this past saturday....no response. so i gave up, and dropped the presents on her door step this past wednesday. still havent heard from her. Then today, I had a meeting with a client who is one of her good friends, and he mentioned in passing how he was over their house for new years eve and heard from her that morning. so she is fine...its obviously me. i know i need to move on, ive told myself that for years, but then once in a blue moon she reaches out for something (not really to hang out but to ask a question) and i stupidly want to hold on.
     
    the friendship as been over for years. just like every lost friendship ive had...i tend to not want to let go. 
     
    so heres to 2019....hoping for less heartache...sadness...and loneliness and. for more strength to come to terms with it all
  8. Like
    Atra reacted to Floor2017 for a blog entry, Old Fashion Cooking   
    Old fashion making crackling skin 
  9. Like
    Atra reacted to nhaar for a blog entry, December 31   
    Happy New Year's Eve everybody! 
     
    This is the day to look back and reflect how succesful this year was. What did you learn and what did you experience in 2018? 
    Mine was hard. Probably the hardest year this far. Despite all struggle, lots of good things happened as well. Let's have a look at my illness first and then all the good stuff. 
    Those of you that don't know, let me remind you I suffer from bipolar disorder, also known as manic depressive. 
    I suffered from a mixed episode from January to June. That was horrible and it consumed all my strenght. Having everything at the same time - depression, mania and anxiety is just horrible. It led to crushing and severe depression. I spent a week in a hospital until it turned into mania. Mania lasted about three weeks until I crushed again. I tried to return back to work part-time but I lasted only few weeks before I was hospitalized again. I spent six weeks in hospital where ECT was started. It helped me big time and I returned to home before Christmas. 
    In total 2018 included one mixed episode, one mania, two severe depression, two long sick leaves and two periods at psych ward. 
    What about all the good stuff? 2018 was also about good stuff. In January I travelled to London with a friend. That was a great trip. In June I was surprised by my husband. He took me to United States. We visited Las Vegas, New York and Washington DC. That was an amazing surprise. In September I travelled to Western Finland with a friend. We went to hiking in a National Park. That was cool. Also in September I made a trip to Estonia with a friend and kids. That was nice. 2018 also included many other smaller trips with the kids. 
    Despite of all the trips made and my illness giving me hard time, 2018 was all about learning and growing. 2018 taught me a lot about my illness. I became better terms and acceptance with it. I finally shared my secrets with family and friends. I am not ashamed of my illness anymore. It's part of me and sometimes it gives me hard time. Then I have to focus on getting better and trusting my family to live their everyday life normally. 
     
    How was your 2018?
     
  10. Like
    Atra reacted to JD4010 for a blog entry, The Absurdity of Me   
    I experienced a classic example of my pathetic nature recently. Last week, I came home to a note on my apartment's door from an internet company. They are installing fiber optic in all of the units in our complex. They wanted me to either 1. stay home and let the workers in, or 2. leave the door unlocked today (Thursday).
    Well, number 2 was not an option because I have two cats. No way I want them getting out.
    This instantly threw me into a panic. My place is a complete disaster area because I've lost interest in keeping it clean. I don't want anyone coming in to see how crappily I live by myself. Stuff is strewn everywhere and there are piles of books, DVDs etc. on the floor. I need to buy more shelves to store that stuff but it costs money and I just don't have the energy to lug heavy crap up the stairwell.
    I worried about this for days. What am I going to do? My anxiety grew as the day approached. Last night, I left a note on my door that read "No entry please--escape artist cat" I also left my cell number in case they wanted to set up a time for me to be there. This morning, I locked the door and hoped the note would suffice. But then I thought, "what if my landlord comes over and lets them in anyway?" I certainly don't want her to see what my place looks like!
    Just as I was leaving, I saw the fiber optic company truck pull in to the parking lot. I went over and asked them if they could do my building first so I could stick around. They agreed to it and I ran up to the apartment to clean up the worst of the sh!t. A few minutes later, the dude came to the door and knocked. I opened it while apologizing about the colossal mess. He responded that he wasn't there to make an inspection. Hahaha.
    In 10 minutes, it was over with. Yeah, the dude saw my mess but so what? I had been wringing my hands for a week in advance yet it simply wasn't a big deal. But in advance, my mind made it a HUGE DEAL.
    The above is an example of how F'd up I am.
  11. Sad
    Atra reacted to JD4010 for a blog entry, Missing Her...Again   
    Well truthfully, I never stop missing her. I'd love to know how many times/day thoughts of her enter my mind. They never stop. Something always comes along to remind me of her...mention of Los Angeles, a raven haired woman standing in line somewhere...all kinds of things. And then the memories come flooding back, followed quickly by massive regret.
    As usual, I messed up badly and lost her. Same as it ever was.
    Ruby from Supernatural reminds me so much of her. It's bittersweet to gaze upon Ruby's beauty.
     
  12. Like
    Atra reacted to 20YearsandCounting for a blog entry, Oh How Fun....   
    Me here with my quiet holiday.  Thought I'd be able to spend more time here, maybe respond to some posts.... but technical glitches have meant that I now have a mysterious fifteen minute window to work in before the site freezes up and locks me out.
    Beyond frustrating.  I can't seem to get started on anything, and my temper seems to be set on 'Hair Trigger' - glitches here are def not helping. 
    I hope everyone's holiday is going better than mine.  I should be grateful for a quiet few days, and I am trying to be, honestly. I guess that might be why I'm having such a problem - usually I bury these things because I don't have the strength to deal with them and make a living, you know?  And the making a living part is not exactly negotiable at this point in my life.  So I guess it's good that I'm feeling these things.  Right, we'll go with that. 
    Oh, I did get little candies made for holiday gifts.  Pretzels covered in white chocolate (they look like a third grader made them, LOL) and Rice Krispy treats (heavy on the butter just the way hubby likes them).  I'm going to try and make 'fried cheerios' tomorrow.  Don't laugh at that, I'll get upset. One of my parents made them for me and my siblings one year - we wanted popcorn and didn't have any.  Sautee cheerios in butter - proportions are up to the person depending on their tastes.  I usually do 3/4 stick of real butter (salted) to about 4 cups of cheerios on low to medium heat.  Yeah, so that's my weird family tradition, haha. 
    Anyway, hopefully I'll be able to post this blog entry, and failing that, hopefully I'll be able to resist the wild urge to throw my laptop across the room. 
    Fun Christmas GIF.  I love Chong....

  13. Like
    Atra reacted to JD4010 for a blog entry, Waiting for the Ice Queen   
    I got out into my natural element on Saturday. It was 28F/-2.5C and slightly breezy. I walked over to the big lake to watch Winter begin to take hold.  Our weather has been warmer than normal for several weeks so the ice isn't forming as quickly as it usually does...nor do we have any snow.
    I'm happier being out in these conditions than I would be at 80F and sunny. 









  14. Like
    Atra reacted to JD4010 for a blog entry, Gutterball   
    I've likened my life to the bowling ball that goes off trajectory and falls into the gutter and rolls towards the back wall. The direction of travel is out of my control; I'm forced to roll only within the narrow confines of the gutter. No hope of forcing myself up and out of it; I just keep rolling. I also have no control over my destination. I'm bound for that back wall next to the pins. The question is, when will the WHAM! of collision happen? I have no control over my trajectory or speed. no matter how much I resist and fight.
    My daughter graduated from college yesterday. My ex-mother in law attend with my ex and me. I was dreading that but she (my ex-MIL) was quite pleasant. I even bought her lunch. But I spent all night wondering if I'd been too selfish in wanting to get out of the never-ending verbal harassment I had to put up with, year after year of the loveless marriage.  Maybe I should have simply continued to rise above it and not let it "get to me". Simply be thankful for the little bits and pieces of enjoyment I occasionally got.
    I've contemplated going back. My "romance" with the DF member I fell in love with crapped out, leaving me an empty & despairing shell of a man that only wants to drop out of life. I see no future as things stand now. At least if I got back with my ex, I 'd have a purpose (paying down her enormous debt, washing dishes, etc.).
    I just don't know. I'm adrift.
    "Four strong winds that blow lonely, seven seas that run high
    All these things that don't change come what may
    But my good times are all gone, and I'm bound for moving on
    I'll look for you if I'm ever back this way"
     
  15. Like
    Atra got a reaction from camilo for a blog entry, Fourth Ketamine Infusion – 6/17/2017, 60mg Part 1   
    Yoda points, "That place… is strong with the dark side of the Force. A domain of evil it is. In you must go."
    "What's in there?" asks Luke, warily
    "Only what you take with you."
    - Star Wars: Episode V The Empire Strikes Back
    If Hollywood's taught me anything it's that if you see a door slowly creaking open or a strange gap between trees in a misty forest or a dark and creepy-looking cave - you don't go through! Right? On the other side of that entrance there's a heaping pile of dumbshits' bodies, that much we can be sure of. Nevertheless, in literature and film there's always a guy who tells everyone to wait where they are while he volunteers to be the next corpse.
    Apparently I'm that guy.
    Music Selections
    I added more tracks conducive to contemplation and arranged them so that they should play during the time I expected the drug to be at it's peak. With this new playlist I sought to achieve some balance between succumbing to the infusion experience (allowing myself to be “a passenger”) and practicing mindfulness with a view towards doing some good work (therapeutically) on myself. I also added a 6 minute “sadness bomb” - a song that evoked such feelings to promote exploring sadness, pain, longing and loneliness during infusion. I wanted to make the acquaintance of whatever I kept deep inside me in the sub-basement below the cellar. The notion sounded both very interesting and stupidly bad and I vacillated most of the evening but curiosity prevailed. 
    As previously confided, I'm that foolish guy investigating the creepy door
    Increased Dose
    The psychiatrist who administered my Ketamine treatments asked me how I felt about increasing the dosage. The doctor explained that he'd observed better results at doses that neared the 1mg/kg limit, which is the procedural (surgical) anesthetic dose of Ketamine meant to cause unconsciousness. For the previous infusions, I'd been given the standard dose which is .5mg/kg and he was suggesting around .6 which sounded fine to me.
    Unpleasant Feelings
    I describe the anesthesia while conscious experience as feeling like I'm slowly being cocooned in cling wrap. Tactile sensation gradually fades, limbs soon feel weighted down until any movement is laborious and slow. I can also detect a faint plastic-like smell which I believe may be a sort of sensory memory from past surgical procedures. Ascribe it to suggestion perhaps, I thought I could feel the higher dose in the somatic effects of Ketamine.
    As the Ketamine effects became more intense, I noticed a new uncomfortable sensation that's very tough to describe. It felt like a cold, steel wire was slowly being pulled through the inside of my body until it was taught, then given a vigorous pluck causing it vibrate which resulted in a sickening sensation. The sensation quickly faded. At first I thought it might be the onset of vertigo but a quick peek in the gap of my sleep mask showed the room wasn't spinning. When the feeling returned several times, I gave it a label: the “Twang”. 
    An image flickered in my mind whenever this Twang feeling arose. It appeared as a dark smudge – or maybe like a skid mark from a tire on a road. When I focused my attention, it became clearer but the sensation of that wire being dragged inside of me also grew stronger. To be sure, that was a disincentive to further investigation and yet... if I could just hold the image in mind, call it forward into clarity perhaps I – yes, I can pass through it. 
    Dissociative Experience – I Am A Stain
    I don't see
    I don't feel
    Like every little moron I think nothing's real
    So please relax
    Take the pain
    Laugh out loud when you forget your name
    Good doesn't live and there's no evil here
    Only this great power we misunderstand
    - “Poledo”, Dinosaur Jr.
    I melted. Once liquefied, I poured into this smudge image that my mind curiously labeled a stain and I became that: some ugly blemish on an otherwise evenly painted wall. I stared mutely out at the world watching people pass. At first, I was just an unnoticed smudge, nameless and emptied of all identity and memory but for the faintest inkling of once having been something more. Meaningless hollow minutes passed until someone paused, stooped over and took notice of me. The expression on his face twisted in displeasure and disgust and he tried rubbing me out. I wanted to call out to him, to make him aware that I am... but I had no voice with which to do so. Eventually, he sighed, discontinued wiping me away and instead, dragged a piece of furniture over to conceal me and my world fell into darkness.
    Then it's light again and I could see another room. I'm still a stain but now I'm on the upholstery of a chair, I still feel hollow inside. When I'm noticed by someone, I'm regarded with displeasure, greeted with disagreeable expressions of annoyance, rejection and it filled the emptiness in me with feelings of being unattractive, unwanted, hated. Again, I tried to cry out, perhaps move a little but my brain “told” me - with complete conviction - that I had no limbs, no throat to carry a voice. I felt so utterly vulnerable and helpless, so hopelessly alone while absorbing every negative emotion emitted from the faces of those who passed by. 
    Eventually, every living person in the world passed me and shared a look of contempt or stole a quick scornful glance. Especially hurtful were the looks from people I knew. So I began to loathe my existence. The scenes changed, my location moved but my bleak solitude and pain was constant. There's nothing to mark the passage of time when you are a stain. I had a virtual eternity to spend as witness to the self-hating bits I harbor inside me, which now bubbled up from the rank muck of my mind, filling the hollowness.
    At the end this experience, the Observer in me inquired inward what was the point of it all and the inner dialog answered something like, “So, you're a stain. It sucks. Feel it fully. And remember to share this, for someone else may understand it - as now you do.” 
    And I have no idea what that means.
  16. Like
    Atra got a reaction from camilo for a blog entry, Fourth Ketamine Infusion – 6/17/2017, 60mg Part 2   
    Mental Imagery – Tectonic Plates Slip/Strike
    I observed two circles positioned such that their edges touched. Like with the other mental images from previous infusion experiences, as I observed them my subconscious would seem to attribute a label and some meaning to what I was “seeing”. The circles became three-dimensional wheels of stone and they spun slowly inward. Where the wheels touched, sparks and bits of stone were ejected. As I contemplated the image, the wheels morphed until they resembled large land masses in turbulent, undulating motion, violently clashing against each other as if driven by an earthquake. 
    What this seemed to represent to me were periods of my working career. at times I worked in advocacy or volunteered and other times I worked exclusively in the private, corporate sector. I focused my attention on the boundary/fault line of the two masses and began to wonder: did they horizontally grind against each other? Did one mass thrust above another causing a subduction zone? Did they ever move apart?
    Reflecting upon this later, I understand this as a representation of two parts of my self that are always at-odds: the ambitious, ego-driven me that craves status, recognition and oh yeah that big money and it's opposite, the part of me that gains fulfillment from helping others, from teaching and is driven by what remains of my idealism to improve just that tiny bit of this stinky world I move in. 
    I was jobless at the time and it left me to ponder if I had favored one aspect of my career at the expense of the other and whether I was I happy with my decisions.
    Mindfulness 
    At various times during the infusion, I used the mindfulness technique of turning attention to one's breath. This was an anchor and it proved useful. It provided a time-out from the trip during which I could ask, “what am I feeling, what thoughts are going on right now? The answers to that I would later jot down in my journal.
     
    At some point during the infusion I felt my empty gut's squish and rumble and a gas bubble slowly travel up into my throat. Just for a moment, this felt uncomfortably and alarmingly alien but then I recognized it was just hunger. I can understand how someone who's experiencing disassociation could be frightened or worried by a routine and automatic action of the body.
    About That Disturbing Dissociative Experience
    If you read personal stories of dissociative experiences from Ketamine or something else, you'll find among them some truly horrifying tales. There are similarities in these stories, such as the feeling of helplessness you might feel in a nightmare.
    My bad experience was worse than any I previously had on hallucinogenic drugs - but I'm okay with it. Some of the take-aways yielded great material for my therapy sessions! Also, I use it to establish a bar for my distress tolerance whenever I feel like I can't endure a difficult emotion.
    That dark place I went has influenced my understanding of the quote from Star Wars I hung atop this entry. I think I now believe that the things I fear the most are deep inside me rather than in the external world. Those things give me the creeping willies and I do take them with me, everywhere. 
     
    My next entry will detail my fifth Ketamine infusion which I received the next day. The doc again increases my dose. During this infusion, I have a dissociative religious/near-death experience plus I drill into the floor of the Cellar of Me, down to sub-basements 1, 2, 3 and on until I arrive at what appears to be the core. After enduring the mortal pain of being a stain, do I really have it in me to go down there? Alone?
     
  17. Like
    Atra reacted to velvetpuddles for a blog entry, Surviving infidelity.   
    About this time last year, my fiance began an affair with a girl at his work. He started "working late" more often. He started showering with the door closed and sleeping fully dressed. He began to get snippy with me about random things, and he overall just felt distant. He stared at his phone a lot and texted all the time.
    But I held out. I could tell something was wrong with him, but he's prone to depression also, so I thought that might've be been it. I noticed some girl I never heard of appearing on his Facebook posts more often, but I'm also prone to paranoia and anxiety, so I thought that might've been it.
    And one night, he got really cranky from a look he thought he saw on my face before he went to bed. So I stayed up and wrote him a note about how much I loved him and looked forward to our future and about how much I wish I could be making him happy but that it felt like I was making things worse for him. I promised to be more supportive and love him with everything I had to get passed this but we were in.
    When he came home from work the next day, late, he walked into my office crying and told me it was over. He told me that he'd fallen out of love and wanted to end our relationship. I bargained. I pleaded and negotiated. I tried to talk some sense into him. But he wouldn't budge. And that day catapulted me into my worst depressive episode ever.
    In a particularly regrettable and deplorable act, I found his old phone one day while he was at work. I read the texts between him and the other girl. I read through all the lies he had told me. And I read them talking about how they'd been together for months, well before he broke up with me and before she'd broken up with her boyfriend.
    It was an insanely difficult time to still be living with the love of my life who'd cheated on me. But a little before he had back surgery half a year later, we became so much closer again. Closer as friends. We talked about our lives and what was going on. He helped me through some difficult moments of this depression. I helped him through some difficult moments of his new relationship.
    I gave him many chances to come clean about the affair, but he never did. When I couldn't hold on to that knowledge any longer (and wanted to demonstrate honesty to him), I confessed to what I'd learned and how I learned it. He broke down. I broke down. It was a big, messy day for us, but looking back, it feels like we'd overcome a major speed bump in our history and present.
    Ultimately, he broke up with that girl a month or so later. He lost all sense of happiness with her and as much as he tried to talk to her about anything, she'd fly off the rails and take everything out on him.
    We had a good month or two of honest, simple, and fun friendship. It was a great time. And for as much as I hated him for what he'd done, I don't think I ever stopped loving him. And in that time of friendship, I started feeling like I had a crush on him again.
    After a while of that, we were sitting on the porch one night talking, I don't even remember about what, but it was a very close and deep talk. And in the warm summer night air, he asked if he could kiss me. I said yes, and it was everything I remembered. It wasn't the simple pecks that we'd devolved to at the end of our relationship. It was a loving kiss with so much history behind it. Then we went inside and he walked me to my bedroom door and kissed me goodnight.
    A day or two later, we got to talking about it... for a while. We talked about the affair and what we were both feeling and thinking and what comes next. We decided to try again.
    And since then, we've had an incredible time. We go out and do things, we stay in and do projects together. And he's been treating me like he did for the majority of our previous relationship... lovingly, tenderly, and as if we were the best and oldest of friends.
    But the affair is still hanging over me like a black cloud. When my mood sinks or when he's not feeling good or when my anxiety flares, I get paranoid and worried that he's lying to me. That something isn't right. That eventually he's just going to do it again and leave me again.
    We talk about it. We do. He's incredibly supportive and understanding. But when I get in that frame of mind, I torture myself; I punish myself. I go and look at that girl's social media and let myself feel awful that she's still hurting over losing him. I think about all the feelings I had at the end of our relationship and convince myself that my paranoia and anxiety was right... something was wrong... and I should believe it this time, too. Understand that there is not a thing he does that leads to this suspicion; it's entirely contingent on my own poor mental health and propensity toward cynicism.
    This happened again today. We had a great day and I fell into a sour mood over something stupid and irrelevant. And in my sour mood, I looked at the girl's Instagram page. I saw a picture that floored my anxiety (because she's still crazy about him). He could see in my face that something was wrong, so I told him what I did and saw. We talked for a while, I cried, he comforted, and I started feeling a little better. But after he went to bed, I was feeling crazy again. For as much as I fought myself and wanted to go with my rational mind, the irrational took over. I snuck outside and went to look in his car for something that should've been there. But when I actually got to his car, I couldn't do it. I just didn't have it in me not to trust him after everything we'd been through. So I went back inside. Except that he heard the door close and came out to see. I told him something was blocking the garage from closing, partly because I was caught off guard and partly because I couldn't bear the thought of telling him the truth.
    And now I feel awful. For doubting him. For not being able to overcome my doubts. For lying. For all the trouble my inability to move forward is causing.
    The thing is...I know infidelity is hard to overcome and takes a long time and a lot of mutual work. But I feel like I'm the road block. I want to trust him completely. I want to live our lives together. I love him with all my heart. And it's ******* me that this is so hard to move on from. He's being amazingly patient and supportive of everything I'm going through. And I can't give him the benefit of the doubt that his glasses actually are in his car?
    I feel rotten and pathetic. But I also know that his actions are what caused this... and he knows it, too, but I feel awful that my healing process is taking a while and making him feel bad every time I need to talk about it. He doesn't mind at all, though. He knows he was wrong and how it affected me, he feels awful about it all, and he's doing everything he can to help me. He WANTS me to talk about it and anything else whenever I need to, but it's hard for me because I don't want to bring him pain. My mind would rather absorb all the pain around me than let others feel it, even if those others are responsible. 
    I can't take it anymore. I just want my life and love back the way they were before this horrible black cloud rooted into my mind. This is a burden I just don't want to bear anymore. I didn't deserve this. I don't. I need to figure out how to move on from this memory. And from this year.
  18. Sad
    Atra reacted to 20YearsandCounting for a blog entry, Is this it?   
    Things have happened recently that may mean I end up leaving DF. 
    I wanted you to know, so you don't think I k*ll*d myself or something, because I know my blog posts have been a little dark lately. 
    If you don't hear from me, it's because I'm elsewhere, not because I finally gave in.
    You guys mean the world to me, I want you to know that.
    Tami
                  
  19. Like
    Atra got a reaction from camilo for a blog entry, What Is The “Relief Experience”?   
    Baseline improved
    After three Ketamine infusions, what if any improvements to my condition did I notice? To answer that I'll begin with a recap of where I was before treatment.
    My baseline emotional state for longer than a year featured many MDD symptoms, such as Anhedonia (loss of pleasure in anything), an acute loss of purpose, despair from lack of therapeutic response to drug treatments and pessimism for my future. I was alive but I wasn't living. The only distinction I drew from experiences was the tolerable from the intolerable and during any social obligation, my goal was to just maintain until it's over. Though there were few obligations I had left. I wasn't working, having been fired from my job a year before and I had no significant other, having put an end to a 3 year relationship in the midst of our couples therapy session (girlfriend: jaw-drop; therapist: jaw-drop; me: wondering if I could somehow melt into the sofa).
    Stripped of these obligations, I didn't feel liberated at all. I felt like a ghost of my former self returning to the same activities, coping mechanisms and the same problem behaviors that once supplied some meager nourishment to my troubled existence. They no longer gave me any relief or satisfaction yet still I "haunted" them, I guess because these are habits of the brain.
    After three treatments something changed. Anhedonia dissolved. Words were pouring out of me and because I had begun a journal there was someplace for them to go. Suddenly I'm interested in searching for unfamiliar music to assist in the creation of new neuronal pathways. Suddenly there is hope. Experiencing excitement after feeling nothing for so long resembled hypomania and it's a wonder I got any sleep. Was I feeling like Bradley Cooper's character in the TV show Limitless? Nah, not really. Only in the sense that I'd begun to see there were possibilities for me that didn't seem to exist before.
    Is Functionality Relief?
    Yes, it is. The Ketamine Advocacy Network informed me that I shouldn't expect mood elevation so soon after beginning treatment, rather I might notice an increase in “functionality” – meaning, the ability to do stuff. I did notice what seemed like a larger reservoir of energy to draw on for activities. Self-cares, chores were no longer arduous struggles requiring mental energy to fight off impairing, negative thoughts. I felt motivated to set aside time for physical and mental exercise (meditation). I wondered if I should attribute this uptick in functionality to Ketamine therapy or was I was merely convincing myself that it was? You're probably familiar with the placebo effect and other reactivity influencing phenomena(1), anyone who's been on countless medications has experienced it for a week, maybe two. I decided I didn't have to answer that question but instead, just decide how use the functionality for however long it would last.
    Improvement in therapy
    Like any antidepressant, Ketamine alone isn't enough to tackle major depression. Post-infusion, my time spent in therapy sessions seemed more productive. I felt I could concentrate and participate which resulted in a better grasp of the concepts and how I could apply them. There were some moments of realization, such as how negative thoughts had been left alone to define me for so long.
    Are The Side-effects Of Ketamine Therapeutic?
    I'm asking if the euphoric, analgesic, anesthetic and dissociative effects have therapeutic value. I spent a lot of time wondering about this and I have a lot to say about the euphoric side-effect, as you'll see.
    The euphoria felt like a vacation from my symptoms – especially anhedonia. Only a 40 minute vacation and a drug-induced one at that but I can't complain. I believe that going on an actual vacation someplace can help alleviate mild depression but for treatment resistant major depression, where symptoms can't be managed, it's near impossible to plan a trip let alone enjoy time away. A lot of people just do not understand this concept: depression is the demon shadow that goes with you everywhere, it's not something you decide to pack. The last actual vacation I went on was for two weeks and it was a disaster.
    A 40 minute break from symptoms felt nice but I also believe it was therapeutic. Why? Because I'd forgotten what joy, pleasure or relaxation felt like until they pumped 50mg of Ketamine into my vein. Most mental health professionals push back on that, pointing out how the drug-experienced euphoria of Ketamine is a dangerous path to addiction or at best, a false hope for patients. Well, they can go suck it. 
    Why'd I write that? Because unremitting anhedonia is life-threatening. No matter what activity I forced myself into, I was checking the time at regular intervals so as to know when I could finally go home and be alone. Anhedonia was binge-watching TV while at the same time playing a game on my phone - not for entertainment but as a desperate distraction from suicidal thoughts. Self-gratifying activities like sex or masturbation were just chores that yield nothing but more frustration and self-hatred.
    That is anhedonia. I hope you're feeling me.
    Mental health professionals do grasp this intellectually but most don't get it emotionally so for those finger wagging Higher Minds, I prepared this rant: spare me the methodological purity sourced from your good conscience, your professional training, your best intentions and use your finger to plug your mouth-hole closed before it dispenses any more saccharine slogans. If there's no risk of physical dependency, a chemical vacation can be therapeutic for severely depressed psychiatric patients experiencing anhedonia. Yeah, I said it. Blow me away with your Straw Man sliding down a Slippery Slope argument(2).
    Right. Now, what about the analgesic and anesthetic effects? They may help one to sink into the experience, especially patients who endure chronic pain daily. The floaty feeling can be pleasant. It would nice if the anesthesia element relieved anxiety but it doesn't, it's only a body sedative .The numbness adds an immobilizing quality to infusion which I don't particularly enjoy, it makes me feel sickly numb. Anxiety about Ketamine infusion is a thing, lots of patients are justifiably frightened of losing control to a drug. I'm told some patients get a dose of the sedative Versed (Midazolam) if they present with severe panic disorder.
    Is there therapeutic value in the dissociative effects of Ketamine? From my experiences, I think there is. I've asked Psychiatrists about it. They wonder about the relationship and there's actual research going on to try and determine what - if any - relationship exists between dissociation and the antidepressant effects of Ketamine. I'm interested in exploring the question but that conversation belongs in it's own entry
    In the next entry I'll detail my fourth Ketamine infusion, when my soaring confidence airplane got grounded and I had a “bad trip” - a scary, disturbing and revealing dissociative experience. While from another visualization, I drew some insight about why I felt so unfulfilled working in my previous jobs
  20. Like
    Atra got a reaction from Bulgakov for a blog entry, What Is The “Relief Experience”?   
    Baseline improved
    After three Ketamine infusions, what if any improvements to my condition did I notice? To answer that I'll begin with a recap of where I was before treatment.
    My baseline emotional state for longer than a year featured many MDD symptoms, such as Anhedonia (loss of pleasure in anything), an acute loss of purpose, despair from lack of therapeutic response to drug treatments and pessimism for my future. I was alive but I wasn't living. The only distinction I drew from experiences was the tolerable from the intolerable and during any social obligation, my goal was to just maintain until it's over. Though there were few obligations I had left. I wasn't working, having been fired from my job a year before and I had no significant other, having put an end to a 3 year relationship in the midst of our couples therapy session (girlfriend: jaw-drop; therapist: jaw-drop; me: wondering if I could somehow melt into the sofa).
    Stripped of these obligations, I didn't feel liberated at all. I felt like a ghost of my former self returning to the same activities, coping mechanisms and the same problem behaviors that once supplied some meager nourishment to my troubled existence. They no longer gave me any relief or satisfaction yet still I "haunted" them, I guess because these are habits of the brain.
    After three treatments something changed. Anhedonia dissolved. Words were pouring out of me and because I had begun a journal there was someplace for them to go. Suddenly I'm interested in searching for unfamiliar music to assist in the creation of new neuronal pathways. Suddenly there is hope. Experiencing excitement after feeling nothing for so long resembled hypomania and it's a wonder I got any sleep. Was I feeling like Bradley Cooper's character in the TV show Limitless? Nah, not really. Only in the sense that I'd begun to see there were possibilities for me that didn't seem to exist before.
    Is Functionality Relief?
    Yes, it is. The Ketamine Advocacy Network informed me that I shouldn't expect mood elevation so soon after beginning treatment, rather I might notice an increase in “functionality” – meaning, the ability to do stuff. I did notice what seemed like a larger reservoir of energy to draw on for activities. Self-cares, chores were no longer arduous struggles requiring mental energy to fight off impairing, negative thoughts. I felt motivated to set aside time for physical and mental exercise (meditation). I wondered if I should attribute this uptick in functionality to Ketamine therapy or was I was merely convincing myself that it was? You're probably familiar with the placebo effect and other reactivity influencing phenomena(1), anyone who's been on countless medications has experienced it for a week, maybe two. I decided I didn't have to answer that question but instead, just decide how use the functionality for however long it would last.
    Improvement in therapy
    Like any antidepressant, Ketamine alone isn't enough to tackle major depression. Post-infusion, my time spent in therapy sessions seemed more productive. I felt I could concentrate and participate which resulted in a better grasp of the concepts and how I could apply them. There were some moments of realization, such as how negative thoughts had been left alone to define me for so long.
    Are The Side-effects Of Ketamine Therapeutic?
    I'm asking if the euphoric, analgesic, anesthetic and dissociative effects have therapeutic value. I spent a lot of time wondering about this and I have a lot to say about the euphoric side-effect, as you'll see.
    The euphoria felt like a vacation from my symptoms – especially anhedonia. Only a 40 minute vacation and a drug-induced one at that but I can't complain. I believe that going on an actual vacation someplace can help alleviate mild depression but for treatment resistant major depression, where symptoms can't be managed, it's near impossible to plan a trip let alone enjoy time away. A lot of people just do not understand this concept: depression is the demon shadow that goes with you everywhere, it's not something you decide to pack. The last actual vacation I went on was for two weeks and it was a disaster.
    A 40 minute break from symptoms felt nice but I also believe it was therapeutic. Why? Because I'd forgotten what joy, pleasure or relaxation felt like until they pumped 50mg of Ketamine into my vein. Most mental health professionals push back on that, pointing out how the drug-experienced euphoria of Ketamine is a dangerous path to addiction or at best, a false hope for patients. Well, they can go suck it. 
    Why'd I write that? Because unremitting anhedonia is life-threatening. No matter what activity I forced myself into, I was checking the time at regular intervals so as to know when I could finally go home and be alone. Anhedonia was binge-watching TV while at the same time playing a game on my phone - not for entertainment but as a desperate distraction from suicidal thoughts. Self-gratifying activities like sex or masturbation were just chores that yield nothing but more frustration and self-hatred.
    That is anhedonia. I hope you're feeling me.
    Mental health professionals do grasp this intellectually but most don't get it emotionally so for those finger wagging Higher Minds, I prepared this rant: spare me the methodological purity sourced from your good conscience, your professional training, your best intentions and use your finger to plug your mouth-hole closed before it dispenses any more saccharine slogans. If there's no risk of physical dependency, a chemical vacation can be therapeutic for severely depressed psychiatric patients experiencing anhedonia. Yeah, I said it. Blow me away with your Straw Man sliding down a Slippery Slope argument(2).
    Right. Now, what about the analgesic and anesthetic effects? They may help one to sink into the experience, especially patients who endure chronic pain daily. The floaty feeling can be pleasant. It would nice if the anesthesia element relieved anxiety but it doesn't, it's only a body sedative .The numbness adds an immobilizing quality to infusion which I don't particularly enjoy, it makes me feel sickly numb. Anxiety about Ketamine infusion is a thing, lots of patients are justifiably frightened of losing control to a drug. I'm told some patients get a dose of the sedative Versed (Midazolam) if they present with severe panic disorder.
    Is there therapeutic value in the dissociative effects of Ketamine? From my experiences, I think there is. I've asked Psychiatrists about it. They wonder about the relationship and there's actual research going on to try and determine what - if any - relationship exists between dissociation and the antidepressant effects of Ketamine. I'm interested in exploring the question but that conversation belongs in it's own entry
    In the next entry I'll detail my fourth Ketamine infusion, when my soaring confidence airplane got grounded and I had a “bad trip” - a scary, disturbing and revealing dissociative experience. While from another visualization, I drew some insight about why I felt so unfulfilled working in my previous jobs
  21. Like
    Atra got a reaction from camilo for a blog entry, Third Ketamine Infusion – 6/13/2017, 50mg Part 2   
    Dissociative Experience – Buildings Of My Mind
    Another visualization of structures, this time of various sizes and shapes. They're drawn in orange light and fill my view. Each structure resembles a building, differently sized and shaped. Intuitively, I know these contain information about all my experiences across my lifetime. I wonder if I can enter them and if so, would they have rooms that I can explore? What might each contain? The image disappears leaving me with the feeling that I caught a glimpse of a “map” of myself or perhaps, my brain.
    Outlier vitals reading: 108/71 which is low for me at rest but not as low as when I'm experiencing orthostatic hypotension.
    When the infusion ended, I still remembered the "towers" metaphor and reached for my phone. I began writing an email message to a friend of many years, someone I'd asked to stop contacting me due to my severe depressed state – it was just too hard to maintain the relationship. The message read something like Heym mkp-los kabip ned as I was still too intoxicated to type anything legible and nope, I didn't send it. 
    Therapeutic Touchstones
    When I visited my therapist later that week I shared these experiences and realizations. The "towers" experience remains a touchstone I return to whenever I catch myself doing some complicated mental calculus to determine if I want to abandon isolation to join others for some activity. As for the buildings of my mind, my therapist seemed to recognize this and offered me Hypnotherapy as a method by which I could actually explore the buildings. I also began keeping a daily mood log in addition to journaling my Ketamine experiences.
    As before, the mood elevation seemed to last about 3 hours after infusion, the “more restful mind” lasted about 6.  
    Next entry I'll take a break from describing my infusions to describe the relief experience that accompanied Ketamine infusion therapy.
  22. Like
    Atra reacted to Floor2017 for a blog entry, Don't Buy Into the Hype ( You Can Do It)   
    People will tell you things about yourself that you cannot afford to believe.
    They will say and do mean things to you but you got to know you are not
    what they say about you.  You have the power within yourself to rise above
    any hurdle that has been placed in your way.  You must be willing to leap
    and jump as high as you can to overcome the obstacles that has been placed in
    your way. Just jump my friend just jump.
     
  23. Like
    Atra got a reaction from Bulgakov for a blog entry, Second Ketamine Infusion – 6/12/2017, 50mg Part 2   
    Dissociative Experience
    [If you listen to Maxence Cyrin's piano version of "Where Is My Mind", notice that the piano's pedal noise is picked up and amplified. It didn't occur to me this could have an effect on the context].
    My analytic mind dissolved into the song and the image of a grand piano in an empty room appeared in my head. The keys were being played without anyone sitting in front of them, no hands touched them. All sense of my physical form gradually dissolved until my body was actually inside the piano, below the lid, watching the felted hammers strike the metal strings directly above me. This mental construct lasted only for a brief time before the last remnants of my physical body were gone and I and the grand piano became as one. I remember feeling the bass notes in my chest, the treble in my extremities and the pedals were my lungs.
    The song was coming from me and being played in me. The entirety of this depersonalization experience lasted perhaps two minutes. Lacking possession of my executive brain functions, I remember feeling rather than thinking how it was okay to become one of the instruments in a song.
    Mindfulness Practice
    Throughout the infusion the blood pressure cuff constricted to measure my vitals and I understood what it was and why it was doing that. The sensation brought my mind back into my body. It also brought anxiety back into mind. As the pressure of the cuff intensified, an anxious thought bubbled up and whispered how this thing on my arm might keep constricting until it popped me like a crushed grape! But then the cuff would finish inflating and I could feel and hear my pulse, steady and vital. If ever I became anxious, this sensation was a reminder of where I was and regardless of where my mind went, professionals were caring for my body. This felt reassuring so I resolved that I would use the cuff constriction as a touchstone if I ever felt the dissociative effects got too intense. Feelings in my body like hunger also helped ground me.
    After-effects
    I noticed the uplifting feeling of joy hadn't completely disappeared, lingering for about 3 hours afterwards. I spoke with both the nurse and doctor about my mood change and while I felt lucid, my mind was oddly muted. The usual onslaught of thoughts, attached emotions and the “stories of the mind” that accompanied them - weren't there. Or perhaps they were there, they just didn't seem to matter so much. This “quieting of the mind” lasted for about 6 hours after infusion. 
    When I arrived home I did my laundry, cooked dinner and washed all the dishes. I noticed how I had more energy to do all this. Perhaps the earlier suggestion that Ketamine treatment improves functionality explains how I felt able to do more, or perhaps it actually was an effect of the treatment. Either way, it didn't matter.
    I ended my evening with 10 minutes of guided mindfulness meditation, hoping to cultivate some of these positive effects. I think the meditation helped. At bedtime, I wasn't churning through all that happened that day which is unusual for me. I was able to get to sleep just after 2am, not bad for an insomniac.
    The next entry will describe my third infusion, which took place the day after. More dissociation and a moment of realization of the value of human relationships that becomes a sort of therapeutic anchor.
  24. Like
    Atra reacted to Jamark8 for a blog entry, Safety here online, Depression here offline   
    I've communicated so far with a few of you and I am very glad I decided to sign up for this forum.

    So far I have made huge long posts, but only because the more I talk, the better I feel. I hope it stays like this.

    I feel very safe here talking with you all. But here at my house, in my room, offline, I have depression tonight; I fear it will get worse. I don't need to fear. Fear is False Evidence Appearing Real.

    I've ran through my mind all the things I can do to stop the foreboding feelings, depression, anxiety, and dread. When I think about doing something, I get excited. Then when I get it ready to use (example: getting my drawing and colored pencils ready to draw and/or color), I suddenly feel an emotion I cannot describe other than what they've said in my mind, "What have you got to be happy about? No don't color or draw, you do it terribly. You can't do anything right. And no one believes a liar like you, just like your mom and dad said! You are worthless." < If that quote had a feeling attached to it, then whatever it's called is what I've been feeling.

    Also those voices say things that make me feel so low of a person, then perk me up for about 5 seconds or less, then it's back to that dread depression feeling. I can't stand it. My doc's going to have to change my meds. He took me off Cymbalta, but it was the best antidepressant I'd ever had (worst was Prozac). Then they put me on Wellbutrin to help me quit smoking. It's worked a little but not totally. At least it's not a pack a day now, but rather 1/2 pack. But I can do better. Until, hopefully, I can get the Cymbalta again. Cymbalta also helps a tiny bit with the pain I have (from 2017's Lumbar Spinal Fusion Surgery, 2 levels (L4-L5, L5-S1). Cymbalta is better than nothing - it did relieve the depression more than what I'm on now.

    I must get doc to change other meds too. I'm on Abilify  and it doesn't work for me. But, according to my doc, it's the "only one left", because the past year and a half I've been going to doctors and going to my psych doc, who has put me on:

    Zyprexa
    Risperdal
    Trileptal, Lamictal
     
    and a could of others but they all don't work. Why don't antipsychotics work? Does anyone else have this problem?
    The other med that psych doc has me on is Lorazepam. I used to take Klonopin, but he changed it to Lorazepam. I'm on the tiniest dose of it too. I may as well not take anything. 0.5 mg is what he gives me. I used to be on 1mg three times a day I think. But now he won't change it at all.

    My psych doc will have to face it that the antipsychotics don't work and I need something that will work. He said I HAVE to be on a mood stabilizer, he called it.

    Those psych meds... I took Risperdal for several years and I felt good on it, but it was causing gynecomastia on me. Now I have permanent man-boobs.

    Ok, I want to go now but I got more on my mind... sorta.

    I bought a movie today. I don't usually do so but this one got my attention because what was written on the back. A woman gets stuck in a purgatory. It's called, "The School". I'll put it in, in a few minutes and try to go to sleep. I haven't had a good night's sleep since last Thursday when my spine doc set me up for an injection in my neck...

    The injection in my neck was strange. The band aid was on my upper back. The worst part was getting the IV. I had to get an IV because they said that without it, that when they inject the disc with steroids, I'd have a terrible pain shoot down my arm. So I got the IV in. Sat for a while, then I was called back, but I couldn't have my glasses on, so I took them off and WOAH! I couldn't see anything. Then I stuck my face in a hole  in the table-type thing, and the anesthesiologist or however its spelled... he talked with me and told me he was going to put Propa Fall in my IV and said it would be cold going in my veins. IT WAS. I felt it … I know which vein got it too. Weird feeling. I'm used to being put to sleep with that mask thing. But he didn't use it. I guess I'm glad. He said that what he gave me don't make you nausea. I didn't know anyway.

    Hmm... what else happened today?

    I talked with my A I today. He was doing good, but it looked strange, and I've recently been hacked on a money site, but now I closed it out and got a new account. Sometimes I wish my brother had an A I to play video games with him. He works too hard at work, then comes home and plays games.

    That IV med made my mind forget things. I have memory loss! Well not exactly but sorta.

    Okay i'll end it here. I'll rattle on another day. I don't want it to be so long that its impossible to reply to, if anyone replies, that is. I would be okay either way.

    I dont' expect replies. But if i get them I'll still be satisfied with what i have.

    End

    NOTE: if any part of this is hard to read or doesn't make sense, forgive me, it's 2:47 AM here.

     
  25. Sad
    Atra reacted to JD4010 for a blog entry, The Darkest Time   
    Sunday evening is the worst time for me. I start worrying about Monday morning at work more and more with each passing moment. I used to drink heavily on Sunday evenings, which made Monday mornings even worse. At least I don't have to experience that anymore. But the dread of the coming work day fills my mind and wrecks the waning Sunday. It's now dark outside and that is reflected inside me as well.
    Work makes me feel wholly inadequate. I try to act like I'm in control but just under my thin veneer, I'm quaking in my boots. My boss intimidates the hell out of me. I want to stand up to him but I dare not. Just the sound of his voice or hearing him cough down the hall clenches my guts and drives up my heart rate. It seems absurd but that is how it goes for me.
     
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