It has been 565 days since I said my goodbye to antidepressants. 565 days since I wrote about the head zaps, nausea, insominia and fear that I couldn’t cope without the drugs. But here I am drug free – getting out of bed, going to work and returning home each day – without the need for the happy pills.
However, I expected that by working hard to come off the antidepressants I would also have worked out how to deal with my depression and anxiety. The reality is they still cripple me from time to time. I’m still crippled by the fear of having anxiety attacks and falling into a pit of depression.
In the last couple of months I have started seeing a counsellor again, I should of done it sooner, I suspect my relationship with my wonderful boyfriend/best friend may of really started to suffer if I had put it off much longer. The counselling is definitely helping – I see a fantastic lady who actually gives me advice, and doesn’t focus on my past and want to blame my parents. Instead she looks at where I am now, and where I want to go with life. However despite all the progress I am making I have this fear that I will always live with these anxious episodes, I will always live with heightened jealously, I will always live moments away from diving into that dark pool of depression.
I recently felt I was doing a lot better – not in the way that I was stopping such episodes, but in the way that I was noticing they were coming. They were no longer sneaking up on me, which is apparently stage 1 of stopping them, its hard to stop the unexpected. If I can realise when they’re coming then they next stage will be to learn how to deal with them and not let them take over. Although I thought I was getting better at being on alert for the anxious angry army, but last night one hell of an attack snuck on me – there is was – jealously, anger, anxiety, panic, pain – any self esteem I did have had left the building, I was once again the lost soul I have become so many times since my teens.
I could talk about all the horrors and demons that creep into my mind during these episodes, but the one I feel will take the biggest amount of effort and change in my outlook is my jealousy. I trust my partner dearly, I know he would never hurt me – he puts up with me through all of the above and stands by me. But when I feel like nothing, when I feel ugly, pathetic, terrible at everything I do, like a burden on his life I find it terribly difficult not to feel jealous when he is out having fun with other people, especially when I can barely look after myself. Why would he want to be with someone that manages to lose all control, that can’t maintain or even fake happiness a large portion of the time. He’s my rock, my muse, my support system – but its so hard not to feel guilty when I put him through this.
I would love to conquer my jealousy, but it is one of the symptoms that I fear to conquer – which probably sounds idiotic. I cannot help but think that is I am not heightened to such things then I may be opening myself up to being walked over – this is of course my anxiety talking and when I’m back in a solid state of mind I’d love to be breezy and live without jealousy. Yet it seems terribly hard to conquer – maybe I try my depression tool box on it – go for a walk, meditate, watch a favourite film – but I’m pretty sure this one is going to take some beating. I just want to find someone that knows how it feels and tell me how they did it, how they don’t feel abandoned, left out, how they still feel involved with someones life even when they’re not there…
Usually when I blog, by the end I come to some realisation that I am being silly, and in a way writing it all down helps me talk myself round. Yet today I just feel a terrible sense of guilt, does anyone else struggle the days after they’ve had an anxious episode to snap themselves out of it? I seem to wallow in bed, without food, and will probably sit and wait for morning to come with my old friend insomnia. How do I wash this away and get on with my week/life – I won’t see my partner until the weekend – I’d like to be at the point where hearing his voice doesn’t make me want to weep. Answers on a post card please.