GRILLED! It’s a race against time! …or against clonazepam kicking in, anyway (Journal#065)



I think I’m going to call today an “off” day and that’s okay. It wasn’t too bad. Just off.

  • It started with me running late yet again in the morning.
  • I had a little mis-hap in therapy this morning.
    1. Sorry, I won’t share the topic, but
    2. I did dissociate a bit
    3. Due to a suddenly large amount of stress
    4. Due to extreme feelings of embarrassment/shame
    5. But whatever. As soon as I dissociated, I was fine. Just waited a long, long time for a change in topic. Let it be known I can wait all day, all night, in that state. [I HAVE BEEN GONE A WHILE; clonazepam has kicked in completely; it might be hard for me to focus a bit.] My mind is not thinking, not pondering, not racing. There becomes only what’s there. My breathing. The lack of bird calls outside. My hand which suddenly does not look so much like my hand but I know it is and I try to refocus and remember I am just waiting.
  • It was fine. I got everything done there that I needed to do. My coworkers were actually there today, so that was nice.
  • Psychiatrist appointment. It went really well, I think! I was sooooo “off” at first. I had forgotten to eat lunch, grabbed a stupid snack bar on the way to her office, and was shaking and weak-headed when I got there. I couldn’t focus on her worth shit at first. I kept having to reorient my eyes toward her, I could feel them sliding to the side in a weird way, almost like focusing past her instead of on her level, just from my own inner trembly-ness.
    1. By the end of the appointment, I felt a bit more real and present. She has some brilliant brainstorming about things we could try.
    2. I am, in fact, assumedly going to be trying one such new thing starting tomorrow. Going down on one of my meds (the Wellbutrin SR) to see if that helps me sleep through the night better. And then eventually, it sounds like I will switch the Lexapro to another similar drug with a longer halflife, in hopes of no longer getting those horrible brain-zappies if I miss a dose for more than 5 hours.
  • Walked home. Nobody else was home so I ate some food that “Joe” had previously brought me for just such occasions, and has been in the freezer.
    1. I finished eating. I decided to take a shower.
    2. Before I got to the shower, my brother and uncle came home.
    3. They grilled the SHIT out of me for quite a long while.
        1. Me: Okay. I don’t have it. [Trying to end the topic ASAP.]
        3. Me: That’s because it’s now clumped with “autism spectrum disorder”
        4. Brother: Because they realize it wasn’t a real thing
        5. Me: As it had been in the first place, the only significant difference between “asperger” and high functioning autism was the exact age the child began to speak
        6. Brother: Well does this psychiatrist think you have asperger? Because there is no way you do.
        7. Me: It hasn’t been brought up. We’re focusing on depression, anxiety and sleep right now. Asperger is irrelevant.
        8. Brother: Well, I’ve read about asperger and you don’t have those symptoms. You’re empathetic and overly sensitive to things.
        9. Me: You are likely reading from the more common male features. You probably haven’t read the more female-specific lists.
        10. This went on and on and on and on.
        1. Uncle: I don’t want to see you reliant on any medications.
        2. Me: That’s not possible. I have hypothyroidism.
        3. Uncle: That one doesn’t count. I want you off all this dangerous shit that you don’t need. You’d be so much better off without it. How can they PUT you on these medicines and then not monitor you for ten years?? They should be in prison (that last line was from a previous conversation, actually.)
        4. Me: I needed it.
        5. Them: Why are you still on it? Wasn’t it situational? Sure, you had a traumatic experience [college] but after that they should have taken you off.
        6. Me: It’s not as simple as that. You go on antidepressants, sure, maybe something happened that trigger the immediate need for them. But you go for a year. You are experimenting. You see if you can go without anti-depressants after that. But if you are still depressed off of them, they put you back on them for an even longer time. Like, the rest of your life. If you’ve had multiple majorly depressed episodes, yeah, they tell you you’ll probably always need to be on antidepressants. That it wasn’t just situation, it’s biochemical.
        7. Uncle: Why would you need them now? You have everything going for you. You have a perfect brother here. You have a perfect uncle here.
        8. Me: Well that’s true. [Trying to diffuse situation]
        9. Uncle: I would NEVER let my son be put on these drugs. Maybe if a doctor sat me down and said look, if your son doesn’t take these drugs, he’ll die. Period.
        10. Me: [Now thinking, you really don’t want to know the truth]
        11. Uncle: Don’t you WANT to be off these horrible meds?????
        12. Me: Of course. But it’s certainly not going to be right away [doesn’t mention that I still, every now and then, have moments where death sounds so relaxing, so much trying and struggling just stopped. No more worry and no more burden. Just the pain of the process, which of course stops me, that and knowing my mum would never, never recover. So my thoughts aren’t serious; they just pass through]. But look, frankly, in my personal opinion, you DON’T start going off of your anti-depressants while still on a fairly dangerously close path to complete, complete and utter hopelessness. I’m VERY hopeful today, but I know it takes just one blink of an eye to be back in overwhelming hopelessness.
Grumpy Cat Love

Grumpy Cat Love

I forgot where I was in all this. But you get the point. It went on and on and on and on and voices were raised and there was much emotion and grilling and then when I was asked, “well what do YOU think?” I was already overridden so many times by that point, I said frankly, “It doesn’t matter what I think, now does it.” OOHH boy that got under their skin. Sheesh. I try to speak / get interrupted / try to speak / get interrupted / try to speak / be shown how I’m wrong.

Yeah. Whatever, peeps. I’m out! Done with that shit. 1 mg of clonazepam came and is here for me and I will fall asleep easily tonight, which oh my GOD am I looking forward to.

So, tomorrow should be chill (remember, I’m not posting any Journal posts tomorrow. Don’t miss me too much. ­čśë ). All I have tomorrow is working, and maybe a FaceTime with my mom. And on Thursday, I’m going to try my ass off to get up EARLY EARLY and go to work at a decent hour….. so I can cut out early and hang with “Joe”. I’m going to have dinner with him and his dad, and then return home. This is because we won’t see each other this weekend, as I will be somewhat far away, dog-sitting for my beloved cousins and their┬ámonstrously┬áplayful puppy.


8 thoughts on “GRILLED! It’s a race against time! …or against clonazepam kicking in, anyway (Journal#065)

  1. Some of my friends are like that about me and my meds… it sucks trying to explain yourself. I get so defensive, and I don’t speak well when I am that way.

    Klonopin works well for me, hopefully it works in taking the edge off of the day for you as well!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yes, that’s hard! Being grilled like that definitely makes my thinking and ability to respond slow down, too. This was the 3rd time so I was more verbally prepared because we’d already “discussed” this for hours before.

      80% of me was only waiting for an appropriate moment to leave the room.

      I finally said I had to use te bathroom. So I went down and sat on the bathroom floor for a minute. But then my mom wanted to FaceTime me because we haven’t talked in a while, so I went to my bedroom to chat with her for a minute, and my brother came looking for me! Haha! He’s like, “You’re not in the bathroom. You said you were going to the bathroom.” Bloody hell! LOL My family.


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