Headcases
Ugh. I am depressed.
Now, some people say they are depressed when they have a bad day. I am actually clinically depressed. Apparently, a lot of it is caused by my General Anxiety Disorder and also the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder that goes hand in hand with the GAD. Also, it seems to be the popular opinion that I have a touch of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder left over from when I was a kid. Basically, I am a headcase. Nut job. Whacko.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that I had a rough childhood. No, not the "My parents wouldn't buy me Guess jeans and imposed a curfew and I dyed my hair green to piss them off" kind of rough childhood. We are talking a "Poverty stricken, every kind of abuse that could happen to a child" rough childhood. It's cool though, because without all that crap I wouldn't be the wonderful person I am today, right? (hee hee, tongue in cheek)
But as I have gotten older, my old coping skills (shove crap to the back of your head and forget about it) are simply not cutting it anymore. I went to my first psychiatrist about 2 years ago. Not only did I have a psychiatrist, I had a psychologist too. I also had a prescription for Prozac, a full time (40 hours per week) job, a full university class load (including TWO labs, one of which was that grand time suck of PHOTOGRAPHY) and did I mention that I was planning my wedding solo? Yeah. I wonder why I had a breakdown.
So... I dropped out of school, got married, ditched the Prozac (it made me so sick) and quit my job. I was better then.
Of course, if you remove all the stressors from life then you are not stressed. Last year, I started noticing the symptoms coming back, and more worryingly (yes, that's a WORD) my husband noted them too. So off to the doctor again! New doctor, same diagnosis. Scary. She gave me a prescription for Paxil CR, which was lovely.
Then, the government decided to recall my meds. BOOO, whores! I had to switch to regular Paxil. I also got put on a lower dose, since the regular doesn't come in the same dosage as the CR. I don't think it's enough.
I had work issues, and I quit my job. I am stressed at home. I am not handling conflict well. I am sleeping altogether too much. I sleep all day and I am up all night. I don't want to leave my house. I cry easily. I'm scared.
Of course, I just got my last refill of my meds, which means I have to go back to the doctor. Which means a $30 copay, which I don't have, because I don't have a job. Which means my annual exam, which I don't want to do even though I know I have to. Which means I have to rehash all the shit that's been going on in the last 3 months and hope that she either ups my dosage or switches me to something else.
We are broke. Seriously broke. Moving kicked our butts. I quit my job 3 days before we were supposed to move in to this apartment. We had to switch electric companies, and had to pay a flipping HUGE deposit. We pay almost $650 every month in JUST student loan payments and neither one of us has a degree. Our credit cards are maxed out (they all have low limits though, thank god).
The dog is itchy. Seriously itchy. She has been itchy forever though. People always ask me if she has fleas because she scratches so much. She doesn't, I've checked. I've done everything I can think of to help her. Even though my Yorkie book says to bathe her once a week, I do it once a month so that her skin won't dry out. I switched to an oatmeal shampoo that is supposed to be extra soothing and moisturizing. I switched from Iams dog food to an all natural human-grade ingredient dog food with no by products, corn, or wheat ingredients that are supposed to be irritating to dogs. I put Missing Link in their food, which is a vitamin supplement with Omega-3 acids that are supposed to help with skin itching. I also add a little plain yogurt in, because I read that can help too.
A couple of days ago, the dog scratched herself raw in a matter of hours. I'm not exactly sure why. She's done some bad scratching of herself before, but nothing like this. Her armpits are dark red to black in areas and her belly and sides are covered in little scabs. I made her little fleece boots so that she can't scratch herself anymore, but she still tries. It breaks my heart to see her running around in her goofy boots trying to scratch the top of her head by grinding it against the rug.
All we can do for her at this point is to take her to the vet to try and determine what the problem is. It's either Allergies or Mange. I am hoping NOT mange, because I did a little research on it, and MANGE is scabies on people. If it was mange, it would stand to reason that Gidget would have it also, and my husband and I would have scabies too, but we don't. It sure looks like the pictures and matches the descriptions though. I feel like such a bad dog mom.
Of course, do we HAVE money to go to the vet? No. Why not? Because Sara doesn't have a job yet. So it is MY fault that my dog is suffering. Which makes me feel even worse. We have just enough to pay our bills and rent. We will end up with about $40 left for groceries for two weeks this Friday, and even less when the rent is due. And it is ALL MY FAULT because I couldn't keep my stupid mouth shut and I had to stand up for myself.
Also, I was watching VH-1 tonight, because it was the premier of all their new reality shows. I was watching Celebrity Fit Club, and I realized that I weighed more than one of the people on the show, and almost as much as another. That broke my heart. I used to be cute. I used to have a nice shape, even though I didn't believe it. I dated a guy who told me that my 135 lb, size 7 self was too fat, and I believed him. Now I am this fat shapeless thing, and I am totally disgusted with what I have become.
You know which foods are the cheapest? Yup, the ones that are the worst for you! Totino's Party Pizza and Pasta Roni are always 10 for $10 somewhere. That's $1.00 a meal. Ramen is even cheaper.
So the simple solution is to get a job right? But what job? I don't want to just get a job that I hate just for now, and then have to keep looking for a better one, because that will look really bad on my resume. Also, it's JULY. It's 110 degrees out most days. The AC in our car doesn't really work anymore. Would YOU want to hire the girl who shows up to her interview all sweaty and gross? Also, what would I even WEAR to an interview? Nothing in my closet fits me any more!!!
I hate knowing that everything bad in my life is my fault. I am the one who quit my job. I am the one who got the dog in the first place. I am the one who ate my way into oblivion. I am the one who allowed my truck to get repossessed so that now, five years later, we are stuck with this shitty car (although it was free). I am the one who couldn't hack it in school and was too stupid to pass basic algebra. I am a failure.
I just want to go to sleep, because then I don't have to worry. I don't have to worry that my husband isn't paying the bills on time and since they are all in my name, my credit is suffering. I don't have to worry about the dog scratching herself until she bleeds. I don't have to worry about what I am or am not going to eat. I don't have to worry about having enough money to do ANYTHING that we NEED to do, let alone anything fun. I don't have to worry about the rest of the damn car deciding to die on us. Life is just too damn hard right now.
Now, some people say they are depressed when they have a bad day. I am actually clinically depressed. Apparently, a lot of it is caused by my General Anxiety Disorder and also the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder that goes hand in hand with the GAD. Also, it seems to be the popular opinion that I have a touch of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder left over from when I was a kid. Basically, I am a headcase. Nut job. Whacko.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that I had a rough childhood. No, not the "My parents wouldn't buy me Guess jeans and imposed a curfew and I dyed my hair green to piss them off" kind of rough childhood. We are talking a "Poverty stricken, every kind of abuse that could happen to a child" rough childhood. It's cool though, because without all that crap I wouldn't be the wonderful person I am today, right? (hee hee, tongue in cheek)
But as I have gotten older, my old coping skills (shove crap to the back of your head and forget about it) are simply not cutting it anymore. I went to my first psychiatrist about 2 years ago. Not only did I have a psychiatrist, I had a psychologist too. I also had a prescription for Prozac, a full time (40 hours per week) job, a full university class load (including TWO labs, one of which was that grand time suck of PHOTOGRAPHY) and did I mention that I was planning my wedding solo? Yeah. I wonder why I had a breakdown.
So... I dropped out of school, got married, ditched the Prozac (it made me so sick) and quit my job. I was better then.
Of course, if you remove all the stressors from life then you are not stressed. Last year, I started noticing the symptoms coming back, and more worryingly (yes, that's a WORD) my husband noted them too. So off to the doctor again! New doctor, same diagnosis. Scary. She gave me a prescription for Paxil CR, which was lovely.
Then, the government decided to recall my meds. BOOO, whores! I had to switch to regular Paxil. I also got put on a lower dose, since the regular doesn't come in the same dosage as the CR. I don't think it's enough.
I had work issues, and I quit my job. I am stressed at home. I am not handling conflict well. I am sleeping altogether too much. I sleep all day and I am up all night. I don't want to leave my house. I cry easily. I'm scared.
Of course, I just got my last refill of my meds, which means I have to go back to the doctor. Which means a $30 copay, which I don't have, because I don't have a job. Which means my annual exam, which I don't want to do even though I know I have to. Which means I have to rehash all the shit that's been going on in the last 3 months and hope that she either ups my dosage or switches me to something else.
We are broke. Seriously broke. Moving kicked our butts. I quit my job 3 days before we were supposed to move in to this apartment. We had to switch electric companies, and had to pay a flipping HUGE deposit. We pay almost $650 every month in JUST student loan payments and neither one of us has a degree. Our credit cards are maxed out (they all have low limits though, thank god).
The dog is itchy. Seriously itchy. She has been itchy forever though. People always ask me if she has fleas because she scratches so much. She doesn't, I've checked. I've done everything I can think of to help her. Even though my Yorkie book says to bathe her once a week, I do it once a month so that her skin won't dry out. I switched to an oatmeal shampoo that is supposed to be extra soothing and moisturizing. I switched from Iams dog food to an all natural human-grade ingredient dog food with no by products, corn, or wheat ingredients that are supposed to be irritating to dogs. I put Missing Link in their food, which is a vitamin supplement with Omega-3 acids that are supposed to help with skin itching. I also add a little plain yogurt in, because I read that can help too.
A couple of days ago, the dog scratched herself raw in a matter of hours. I'm not exactly sure why. She's done some bad scratching of herself before, but nothing like this. Her armpits are dark red to black in areas and her belly and sides are covered in little scabs. I made her little fleece boots so that she can't scratch herself anymore, but she still tries. It breaks my heart to see her running around in her goofy boots trying to scratch the top of her head by grinding it against the rug.
All we can do for her at this point is to take her to the vet to try and determine what the problem is. It's either Allergies or Mange. I am hoping NOT mange, because I did a little research on it, and MANGE is scabies on people. If it was mange, it would stand to reason that Gidget would have it also, and my husband and I would have scabies too, but we don't. It sure looks like the pictures and matches the descriptions though. I feel like such a bad dog mom.
Of course, do we HAVE money to go to the vet? No. Why not? Because Sara doesn't have a job yet. So it is MY fault that my dog is suffering. Which makes me feel even worse. We have just enough to pay our bills and rent. We will end up with about $40 left for groceries for two weeks this Friday, and even less when the rent is due. And it is ALL MY FAULT because I couldn't keep my stupid mouth shut and I had to stand up for myself.
Also, I was watching VH-1 tonight, because it was the premier of all their new reality shows. I was watching Celebrity Fit Club, and I realized that I weighed more than one of the people on the show, and almost as much as another. That broke my heart. I used to be cute. I used to have a nice shape, even though I didn't believe it. I dated a guy who told me that my 135 lb, size 7 self was too fat, and I believed him. Now I am this fat shapeless thing, and I am totally disgusted with what I have become.
You know which foods are the cheapest? Yup, the ones that are the worst for you! Totino's Party Pizza and Pasta Roni are always 10 for $10 somewhere. That's $1.00 a meal. Ramen is even cheaper.
So the simple solution is to get a job right? But what job? I don't want to just get a job that I hate just for now, and then have to keep looking for a better one, because that will look really bad on my resume. Also, it's JULY. It's 110 degrees out most days. The AC in our car doesn't really work anymore. Would YOU want to hire the girl who shows up to her interview all sweaty and gross? Also, what would I even WEAR to an interview? Nothing in my closet fits me any more!!!
I hate knowing that everything bad in my life is my fault. I am the one who quit my job. I am the one who got the dog in the first place. I am the one who ate my way into oblivion. I am the one who allowed my truck to get repossessed so that now, five years later, we are stuck with this shitty car (although it was free). I am the one who couldn't hack it in school and was too stupid to pass basic algebra. I am a failure.
I just want to go to sleep, because then I don't have to worry. I don't have to worry that my husband isn't paying the bills on time and since they are all in my name, my credit is suffering. I don't have to worry about the dog scratching herself until she bleeds. I don't have to worry about what I am or am not going to eat. I don't have to worry about having enough money to do ANYTHING that we NEED to do, let alone anything fun. I don't have to worry about the rest of the damn car deciding to die on us. Life is just too damn hard right now.
Miss M told you so @ 12:22 AM
5 Comments:
sARA....
I am sorry you are having a hard time right now. You sound so much like me when I am depressed. I would have your Dr check your dosage.
((hugs))
Hopefully things turn around for you, money stress is hard!
I'm sorry things are so hard right now.
hey! i have spent time with you before and you are awesome. you know i love you tons.
i have SO been where you are. right now i am up 20 pounds. that is devestating to me since i had GBS surgery. i should watch it like a hawk but i don't. uugh!!
i know it's hot out, know that $30 is a ton (take bottles back or go give blood) but you gotta' see the doc. you might just be on the wrong drug or need another one to go with it. while the paxil helps the panic/worrying stuff but might not help the other things. i had to add Lamictal to my Paxil and it has helped a lot. i do still have my downs when i sleep a lot, don't want to take care of myself, eat too much, and cancel all the appointment that i have made cuz i don't want to see anyone or go anywhere. but the downs are a lot farther apart now.
all of this is NOT your fault. it is due to the chemical imbalance and you CAN'T do anything about that. stop being so hard on yourself. you are a wonderful person.
scrappincrazy
Oh man...I am so sorry you are having a tough time. Totally gotta get back to the doctor and talk about the dosage. Like someone else said, money problems can make everything seem so hard. When my husband and I really needed money we sold stuff on e-bay, traded change in at the coinstar machine- just do what you gotta do, but get to the doctor. It's amazing how clear and in-control you feel when you FEEL better. E-mail me if you need to talk. Bye girl!
I'm sorry you are feeling so down...just remember that depression really skews your perceptions. When you said, "I am a failure," it SOOOO reminded me of all the times I have been so low and said that to myself. Try to tell yourself that isn't true. Bad things are happening, but it's not all on your shoulders--shit just happens, you know?
I know you can pick yourself up and find a way to get in to the doctor. Good luck and hugs!
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