Hello again!
I'm so glad that so many people read my last post! It was really cleansing for me to write it and the comments I got both here and on Facebook made me so happy. I've been having such a bitch of a time getting to sleep lately and as I laid in bed last night I got to thinking about what the next few weeks hold for me. What does my brain have planned for me? What do I have planned for me? It's a really hard but exciting time for me. I will be cutting out Effexor completely on Saturday and though I am expecting to feel a lot sicker, I'm not afraid. It will be such a good feeling not being addicted to something that doesn't help me...and that makes me fat. I am going to use my physical and emotional sickness during the detox period to not only detox my body, but detox my soul. I find myself sitting and feeling so angry that I've lost 4 years of my life. I sit and feel sorry for myself and ask myself "What did I do to deserve this?". Thoughts like that will poison your brain and eat you alive. I'm forcing myself to realize that no one deserves some of the trials and tribulations they get served in life. Do cancer patients have cancer people they are bad people? Obviously not. Not I'm not sitting here comparing myself to someone that has cancer, I hope that's not how it comes across. I just mean that EVERYBODY, good and bad, has to go through hard times. It adds character and deepens your understanding for other people. Its hard to remember this when you are sailing through the eye of the storm though. You are just desperately trying not to capsize and drown...you're not thinking about sailing through the calm Caribbean, in a bikini, drinking a mojito. No, your just thinking "Holy crap, I just need to hold on for dear life and pray that I don't die!". Someone once said to me that you are your strongest when you are at your weakest. That's true I think. I mean, WHEN I get through this, I will have nerves of steel....well that is if I don't completely lose it and live on the streets with a shopping cart full of doll heads and my pug dressed in baby clothes. But I'm kinda betting all my money on that not happening! (Although that would KINDA be funny). Anyways, as I was saying, I'm going to detox the shit out of my soul. Just purge out all the bad and let it go. If I keep letting it swim around inside of me I will never get better. I will just be full of so much poison that no therapy or medication could save me. I just need to give myself time to mourn the death of the person I used to be. Not in a depressed kind of way, just a "Its ok that you are gone, I'm letting you go to rest in peace" kind of way. Il be reborn as a new person. Thankfully, I happen to have the BEST support around me that anyone could ever ask for, so I'm sure my boyfriend, my dear friends and my family will still recognize me. I'm thinking of throwing myself a little "I'm not a mental case anymore!" party when I get to that point. Any excuse to throw a party ;)
The reason why this entry is called Planning Planning Planning is because we who carry the crazed monkey called panic anxiety on our back, tend to over-plan things. If we are going to do something we are afraid of then we need to plan E-V-E-R-T-H-I-N-G. We have to make sure that IF something happens, we have a way out. When I just go down the street to my friends place I literally use Google map every single time (always getting the same answer) to see EXACTLY how long it takes for me to walk from my place to their place. I need to think of all the places I can hide on the way if I start getting a panic attack. I need to know that my boyfriend can get me if I get a panic attack (my poor boyfriend is my private driver sometimes, god bless him for that). I need to have my purse full of the things I need: Anti nausea pills, all natural calming pills, a plastic bag to barf in (I never ever barf though....but I still need it! One of my best friends made a barf bag holder for me <3), my cell phone fully charged and my earphones. If I'm missing one of those items then il just lose it inside of me. I wont FREAK out but il get super nervous and uncomfortable. Notice: I don't really check to see if my wallet is there :P. The planning doesn't stop once I get to my destination thought. When I'm wherever I am I have to know how long it would take me to get outside, if they have a balcony (fresh air helps my anxiety if I start freaking out), I need to know who is there and where all the exits are. I mean, the list really is endless. All of this, just to get out of the house a little! I'm such a tard. If I walk my dog then I have to know exactly how long it will take and I cant be too far from the house. Anyways, my point is that we are obsessive planners. Well most of us. I think I might be a little more manic about it because of my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Yay for me! I wonder, do any of you have obsessive or compulsive tendencies? Cleaning stuff that is already clean? Or maybe you get uncomfortable with plans all of a sudden change? I ask people it is a little known fact that almost everybody has some sort of obsessive compulsive tendency, or phobia, or even a touch of general anxiety. This is kinda gross but if you "go to the bathroom" (not NR. 1) often when you aren't at home then you may just have a touch of general anxiety! Which is completely normal and not anything to really give any thought. I just wanted my fellow loonies to know that we are completely normal. We are just a different kind of normal ;) a tad more "colourful" normal. Everybody loves Sheldon form The Big Bang Theory and I mean that guy is a plethora of problems! So maybe weird is more normal than we think, and normal is a little weird? My brain is knotting up so I will leave you all to ponder that topic. I never hide my anxiety from people and I urge you to not do that either. Don't hide your true self from the world, no matter how colourfully normal you may be. Let your freak flag fly! Don't get my wrong though, I'm not a self confident person....but that's a whole different story for a different day.
Talk to you soon!
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Let's not make this weird.
Ok so this is my first blog post ever and I'm very sceptical, but lets just give it a go. For those of you who don't know me: I'm a 26 year old girl from Vancouver, Canada but living in Bergen, Norway. I was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder when I was 12 and then with panic anxiety with catastrophic thoughts at 23ish. I guess it all started when I was 11 and I just stopped eating. I remember feeling like I had 2 brains, one that was rational and normal and then one that was completely fucked and crazy. I would think with both of them at the same time. I was think "If I eat this I may get food poisoning and throw up (which is my worst nightmare...I fear that way more than death). So I'm not gonna eat it because I don't want to risk it." and then the other brain would say "Have you completely lost your shit? You're not gonna get sick and even if you did, its not a big deal". The crazy brain always won the argument. I eventually got down to a wait that was life threatening so my parents (after getting me tested for everything physical) took me to a psychiatrist. I will never forget the feeling of just being so lost and confused as I sat on her couch. She gave me 2 choices: I either start taking medication for my OCD or I get put into a hospital and get fed through a tube. You would think that that would have been a no brainer. Just take the medication! But it was REALLY hard because my crazy brain was telling me that the medication would make me sick. I eventually made the right choice and started on Fontex (or Luvox as it is also known as). That basically changed me life and I could finally get my shit together....for the time being. I got through most of highschool pretty fine. I was PRETTY AWKWARD but I mean, Ive never claimed to have all my marbles ;) that wouldn't be very entertaining. Thankfully I had 3 of the bestest friends in the world, Heather and Sara, that were always supportive of my craziness. They joined me as well. And then I had Samantha that would walk up to my house every single morning and physically force me out of bed and into the shower and get me to school. I give her all the credit for me not having the IQ of a tomato.
When I was 17 I moved to Norway. That's a long boring story so I will just give you the highlights: my mom and dad got divorced when I was really young but didn't settle stuff in court until I was much older and after that was done me and my mom (who is Norwegian) moved to Norway. End of story (or end of what your business is).
My panic anxiety first introduced itself and put it's plastic bag over my head when I was 18 and a half if I recall. I got these panic attacks all of a sudden, out of nowhere, that were incredibly violent and they just kicked my ass. I had never experienced total terror like that before. I would wake up with panic attacks and my mom would have to just try to make sure I didn't pass out from violently hyperventilating. I would get them all the time and that just made me terrified to go out of the house. Everything scared me, I couldnt talk to my friends on the phone without having to hang up because I would start getting a panic attack. It was 2 monthes of no sleep, no eating, horrible nausea and total isolation. My mom took me to the emergency room a number of times until they finally let me see the phychiatrist and he changed my medication. I was normal again within a few days.
Years went by and I was a completely functional, normal girl. I worked, went to school and was always out with my friends. I never felt any anxiety so I decided to go off medication for the first time since I was 12. The medication made me gain a little bit of weight so I though "Why not just go off of it." So I did. At first it was awesome. I lost 20 pounds like right away that I didn't really need to lose but that was great to get rid of and I was free of the dumb side effects! I met my wonderful boyfriend Martin during this time and everything was just perfect. After 6 months of being together, me and Martin and one of my dearest friends, Charlotte and her boyfriend, decided to take a trip to Orlando for a week. The trip got off to a rocky start when we had to land in a tropical hurricane. I'm not afraid of flying but its kinda hard not to be a little freaked out when the plane feels like its going to break apart. And then a kid barfed on the way out and that just totally grossed me out. I felt uneasy the whole trip to be honest, but I didn't really pay attention to it. We had a great time and it was time to go home. We took a plane from Orlando to Frankfurt and I felt sick the whole time. We had to wait in the airport in Frankfurt for like 5 hours or something and I felt like shit the whole time there too. We finally boarded the plane and took off and BOOM I just started FREAKING out. I felt sooo sick and started freaking out about throwing up. The cabin crew moved me to the front of the plane and tried to calm me down but nothing helped. I was so desperate to throw up actually, because I felt so sick. But after years and years of feeling nauseated because of anxiety, my body just doesn't want to throw up and no matter what I tried, whatever was in my stomach was staying there. We were getting ready to land and Ive never been so terrified in my entire life. I was, for some reason, so afraid of throwing up on the way down. Of throwing up in front of people. I was just hysterically crying and shaking and I was saying out loud "Im ok, Im ok, Im ok" the whole time. The second that goddamn plane touched the ground I was fine. The nausea went away I was totally chill. Incredibly exhausted, but chill. We got home and I said to Martin "That was the worst thing that has ever happened to me" and then I just kinda let it go....or so I thought. Stuff basically went downhill from there. I started getting panic attacks all the time and had to quit my job.
That was four years ago. And I'm still not better (yet!). It has turned into an everyday war against my thoughts and my anxiety. I guess I'm just afraid of everything, but the one fear that controles my life, my every move , is the fear of losing control. I know I know, that ship sailed a long time ago. But for me, for my brain, anxiety is a way of desperately trying to gain control of my life. Its my coping mechanism for stress and depression. Its the one thing I wish to God for everyday would just loosen its grip on me...but at the same time its become the only normal I know now and letting it go feels so alien to me that it just kinda freaks me out.The more anxiety I feel, the more I try to gain control and then the more anxiety I get. I would do ANYTHING to not have to live with this pain and terror everyday....but at the same time I'm too scared to do anything. Its a constant battle between me and my anxiety and my common sense. I get pulled in every direction by myself. I wish that I could do what everyone thinks I should do, which is just force myself to face my fears. I totally 100% understand why people give me that advice and I love them for it. But for me, and this is the best way I can describe how I feel, it feels like they are asking me to jump out of a plane without knowing for sure if I have a parachute. That is in no way an overstatement. It has been proven that the bodies of people that have panic anxiety react the EXACT same way to stressful situations that they are afraid of the way your body would react to a life threatening moment. So when we have a panic attack, our bodies are reacting the exact same way your body would react if someone said there was a giant shark swimming towards you. Not an overstatement, it was literally been proven. But it would be unfair of me to expect that someone that doesn't have panic anxiety to know how that feels. And I don't expect that, I just expect that people respect what they cannot understand. I think a mispreseption the general public has about people with panic anxiety, or phobias, is that we don't push ourselves hard enough or we aren't being strong enough. That they think if we just tried a little harder, pushed ourselves a little further, then we could get over our fears. I don't blame them for thinking that! I cant promise that if I didn't have my insider prospective on this topic that I wouldn't think the same thing. Its a natural way of thinking and there is nothing mean or nasty about it. But those people couldn't be more wrong. Ive met a lot of people that have panic anxiety and I can tell you for sure, they have balls of steel. It doesn't come much stronger than them! Picture your day: you may drive to work or take the bus, you see friends or go out, you go shopping. Picture having to do all of that every single day with a plastic bag over your head and your hands tied behind your back. The bag is tied tight around your neck and your hands are tied tight behind your back. No one can help you, you are the only one that can remove the bag, but in order to do that you have to free your hands. But you haven't figured out the secret to untying your hands, so the bag stays on your head and your hands behind your back and you have to just go about your day and try to ignore it.
Right now, I'm trying to get off one of my medications called Effexor. The withdrawal symptoms have been compared by doctors to heroin withdrawals. I cant confirm that, since Ive never tried heroin, but the first 3 times I tried to get off of it was the worst 3 experiences of my life. This time, however, I'm doing it in a different way that doctors are recently found out works way better than just slowly cutting out the drug. So far its....ok. It's something that is really testing my strength and patience but I know I have to do it. I feel super dizzy (like my eyes cant follow my head when I turn my head) , I get something called "brain shivers"...not something I can accurately describe but its kinda like getting electrocuted in the brain. Its not painful at all though. I'm super duper nauseated (but that's not unfamiliar territory for me) and I'm SUUUUPPPPEEEERRRRR anxious! Jebus, I'm totally freaked out when I have to take my dog out! Or il be sitting on the couch and then just start hysterically crying. I think the hardest thing to deal with is that I'm really really emotional. I feel really alone, by no fault of my boyfriend or friends or family cuz they are all the best and they support me no matter what. But just lonely because I feel like I'm missing out on life and the fun things happening around me. And maybe a little misunderstood and afraid that people will just start getting tired of seeing me struggle all the time and that they will just kind of give up. I wouldn't blame them! I'm not exactly a fucking party to be around. But as my mom has always said "You cant control how others feel or think, you can only control yourself and the person you are." So my goal for the summer is to get off Effexor, start my new medication and just fight for my life. I cant give up now when shit is just getting interesting. MY DREAM: (my short term dream) to be able to sit with my friends and my boyfriend downtown at a restaurant, with no anxiety controlling me. I want to be able to sit with them and just enjoy myself 100%. No thinking about how to get home without having a panic attack. No thinking about what I can do if I loose control and get a panic attack. I just want to sit there with them, the people I love and that love me, and shoot the shit with a glass of white wine. I cant hardly wait. I will see you there!
When I was 17 I moved to Norway. That's a long boring story so I will just give you the highlights: my mom and dad got divorced when I was really young but didn't settle stuff in court until I was much older and after that was done me and my mom (who is Norwegian) moved to Norway. End of story (or end of what your business is).
My panic anxiety first introduced itself and put it's plastic bag over my head when I was 18 and a half if I recall. I got these panic attacks all of a sudden, out of nowhere, that were incredibly violent and they just kicked my ass. I had never experienced total terror like that before. I would wake up with panic attacks and my mom would have to just try to make sure I didn't pass out from violently hyperventilating. I would get them all the time and that just made me terrified to go out of the house. Everything scared me, I couldnt talk to my friends on the phone without having to hang up because I would start getting a panic attack. It was 2 monthes of no sleep, no eating, horrible nausea and total isolation. My mom took me to the emergency room a number of times until they finally let me see the phychiatrist and he changed my medication. I was normal again within a few days.
Years went by and I was a completely functional, normal girl. I worked, went to school and was always out with my friends. I never felt any anxiety so I decided to go off medication for the first time since I was 12. The medication made me gain a little bit of weight so I though "Why not just go off of it." So I did. At first it was awesome. I lost 20 pounds like right away that I didn't really need to lose but that was great to get rid of and I was free of the dumb side effects! I met my wonderful boyfriend Martin during this time and everything was just perfect. After 6 months of being together, me and Martin and one of my dearest friends, Charlotte and her boyfriend, decided to take a trip to Orlando for a week. The trip got off to a rocky start when we had to land in a tropical hurricane. I'm not afraid of flying but its kinda hard not to be a little freaked out when the plane feels like its going to break apart. And then a kid barfed on the way out and that just totally grossed me out. I felt uneasy the whole trip to be honest, but I didn't really pay attention to it. We had a great time and it was time to go home. We took a plane from Orlando to Frankfurt and I felt sick the whole time. We had to wait in the airport in Frankfurt for like 5 hours or something and I felt like shit the whole time there too. We finally boarded the plane and took off and BOOM I just started FREAKING out. I felt sooo sick and started freaking out about throwing up. The cabin crew moved me to the front of the plane and tried to calm me down but nothing helped. I was so desperate to throw up actually, because I felt so sick. But after years and years of feeling nauseated because of anxiety, my body just doesn't want to throw up and no matter what I tried, whatever was in my stomach was staying there. We were getting ready to land and Ive never been so terrified in my entire life. I was, for some reason, so afraid of throwing up on the way down. Of throwing up in front of people. I was just hysterically crying and shaking and I was saying out loud "Im ok, Im ok, Im ok" the whole time. The second that goddamn plane touched the ground I was fine. The nausea went away I was totally chill. Incredibly exhausted, but chill. We got home and I said to Martin "That was the worst thing that has ever happened to me" and then I just kinda let it go....or so I thought. Stuff basically went downhill from there. I started getting panic attacks all the time and had to quit my job.
That was four years ago. And I'm still not better (yet!). It has turned into an everyday war against my thoughts and my anxiety. I guess I'm just afraid of everything, but the one fear that controles my life, my every move , is the fear of losing control. I know I know, that ship sailed a long time ago. But for me, for my brain, anxiety is a way of desperately trying to gain control of my life. Its my coping mechanism for stress and depression. Its the one thing I wish to God for everyday would just loosen its grip on me...but at the same time its become the only normal I know now and letting it go feels so alien to me that it just kinda freaks me out.The more anxiety I feel, the more I try to gain control and then the more anxiety I get. I would do ANYTHING to not have to live with this pain and terror everyday....but at the same time I'm too scared to do anything. Its a constant battle between me and my anxiety and my common sense. I get pulled in every direction by myself. I wish that I could do what everyone thinks I should do, which is just force myself to face my fears. I totally 100% understand why people give me that advice and I love them for it. But for me, and this is the best way I can describe how I feel, it feels like they are asking me to jump out of a plane without knowing for sure if I have a parachute. That is in no way an overstatement. It has been proven that the bodies of people that have panic anxiety react the EXACT same way to stressful situations that they are afraid of the way your body would react to a life threatening moment. So when we have a panic attack, our bodies are reacting the exact same way your body would react if someone said there was a giant shark swimming towards you. Not an overstatement, it was literally been proven. But it would be unfair of me to expect that someone that doesn't have panic anxiety to know how that feels. And I don't expect that, I just expect that people respect what they cannot understand. I think a mispreseption the general public has about people with panic anxiety, or phobias, is that we don't push ourselves hard enough or we aren't being strong enough. That they think if we just tried a little harder, pushed ourselves a little further, then we could get over our fears. I don't blame them for thinking that! I cant promise that if I didn't have my insider prospective on this topic that I wouldn't think the same thing. Its a natural way of thinking and there is nothing mean or nasty about it. But those people couldn't be more wrong. Ive met a lot of people that have panic anxiety and I can tell you for sure, they have balls of steel. It doesn't come much stronger than them! Picture your day: you may drive to work or take the bus, you see friends or go out, you go shopping. Picture having to do all of that every single day with a plastic bag over your head and your hands tied behind your back. The bag is tied tight around your neck and your hands are tied tight behind your back. No one can help you, you are the only one that can remove the bag, but in order to do that you have to free your hands. But you haven't figured out the secret to untying your hands, so the bag stays on your head and your hands behind your back and you have to just go about your day and try to ignore it.
Right now, I'm trying to get off one of my medications called Effexor. The withdrawal symptoms have been compared by doctors to heroin withdrawals. I cant confirm that, since Ive never tried heroin, but the first 3 times I tried to get off of it was the worst 3 experiences of my life. This time, however, I'm doing it in a different way that doctors are recently found out works way better than just slowly cutting out the drug. So far its....ok. It's something that is really testing my strength and patience but I know I have to do it. I feel super dizzy (like my eyes cant follow my head when I turn my head) , I get something called "brain shivers"...not something I can accurately describe but its kinda like getting electrocuted in the brain. Its not painful at all though. I'm super duper nauseated (but that's not unfamiliar territory for me) and I'm SUUUUPPPPEEEERRRRR anxious! Jebus, I'm totally freaked out when I have to take my dog out! Or il be sitting on the couch and then just start hysterically crying. I think the hardest thing to deal with is that I'm really really emotional. I feel really alone, by no fault of my boyfriend or friends or family cuz they are all the best and they support me no matter what. But just lonely because I feel like I'm missing out on life and the fun things happening around me. And maybe a little misunderstood and afraid that people will just start getting tired of seeing me struggle all the time and that they will just kind of give up. I wouldn't blame them! I'm not exactly a fucking party to be around. But as my mom has always said "You cant control how others feel or think, you can only control yourself and the person you are." So my goal for the summer is to get off Effexor, start my new medication and just fight for my life. I cant give up now when shit is just getting interesting. MY DREAM: (my short term dream) to be able to sit with my friends and my boyfriend downtown at a restaurant, with no anxiety controlling me. I want to be able to sit with them and just enjoy myself 100%. No thinking about how to get home without having a panic attack. No thinking about what I can do if I loose control and get a panic attack. I just want to sit there with them, the people I love and that love me, and shoot the shit with a glass of white wine. I cant hardly wait. I will see you there!
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