They said it would improve? Did they not process the part where she was dying?
People.
I’m not doing all that well.
I worry about money constantly, especially now that my sister has come to live with us and we have an extra mouth to feed. And my anxieties always plague me in the middle of the night, when I’m trying to sleep.
I’m a little over two months removed from a 30-day stint in a psych hospital, too.
{ekedolphin}
Doing poorly here. My boss left suddenly under weird circumstances, and now my job is just weird and more stressful with more scrutiny and uncertainty. And I never liked this job to begin with. Having a nice boss whom I had known for several years was the only good thing about it.
But, because of my depression and self-diagnosed lack of transferrable skills, I don’t know what other job to look for, so that’s fun.
Plus a lot of health issues that make it difficult to even get through a work day without having some kind of bathroom emergency. Trying not to give you TMI.
There’s nothing emotionally or mentally fulfilling in my life, only drudgery.
I changed meds recently and got off a 90 day unpaid medical leave and went back to work. My anxiety is almost unbearable. I made it through last week (my first week back to work) okay but I cannot sleep. Previously (at exactly the same position) work was neutral to pleasant. Now, I dread it. I cannot figure out what has changed. I cannot figure out what to do.
It doesn’t help that due to a caller who wouldn’t shut up (taking his application took at least at least an hour longer than it should have) I missed my last tele therapy appointment.
I constantly feel sleep deprived and on the verge of (is it a panic attack or an anxiety attack? The less severe of the two). I hope this week is better.
This is probably a good time to mention that in the United States, the mental health crisis hotline is 988. It has literally saved my life.
I don’t think they would help. They’d probably refer me to some useless therapist. I admit I have developed a very jaundiced view of therapy after my last couple of experiences.
Sometime last July, my thyroid began to break down. In September it stopped working completely. Since then it has been a long slow process of going in every three months to have the synthroid prescription bumped up another 25 micrograms. The temptation to strangle my doctor is getting very strong indeed. I am still constantly exhausted, although I can say my brain seems to be working much better now. After all these months, I finally got an appointment with an endocrinologist. I’d really like to know what caused all this! My internist just hasn’t investigated.
I’m still deeply grieving the outcome of a vicious custody battle, and my resulting inability to be a parent to my daughter. She is suffering, trying to get her needs met by a malignant narcissist, but his family has a lot of money, and nothing I do is going to get them to release their hold on her. It kills me being away from her, and I worry so much. I live in an almost complete vacuum of information about her well being. She’ll turn 16 in a couple of weeks, and I don’t even know if anyone is throwing her a party.
I am struggling. I never stop putting one foot in front of the other, that’s just my nature. I look for ways to be helpful and I try to be content. But I want my career back, and I want my child back, and I want my health back. And I am sad ALL the time despite the anti-depressants. I, I, I, I, I. I am an unpleasant subject at the moment.
Cazzle, your story reminded me so much of the time during the active custody battle. My stressors were different, but it was every aspect of my life, and all felt like life or death. And having to try and co-parent through all that with a narcissist didn’t help. I totally feel your pain. All I can say is, if you find yourself in Hell, keep walking. The only way out is through. Your children will remember that you were there for them throughout.
I come off as Miss happy, Polly Anna, never a bad bad bad day beck.
I do see the funny in even the worst situations. But I do have my bad moments folks.
My situation is untenable. Feeling ill nearly everyday is just the worst. I should be looking for a cliff to jump off of. Alas, I’m scared of heights.
To top it off I’m getting confused alot, and losing time.
“Hey, brain, I ain’t got the time to waste. Don’t take any away!!”
I was already goofy, confused is kinda ok. 
My biggest regret is not being around to see the grandwrex grow up. Or the Lil 'Wrekker to marry and have a baby. (She says it ain’t happening, but we’ll see)
I have problems thinking of an afterlife or a ‘heaven’ or something. I want there to be a ‘place’. I just can’t get my head around it.
Maybe I’ll haunt the Dope. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
Update-
Last week went fine. I made a few minor mistakes at work. But, I was out for three months. I realized I had gotten hideously worked up over pretty much nothing.
This week has been much better.
A few months ago I told my now-fired therapist that if, ten years ago, I made a list of everything that I wanted to accomplish in the next decade and then compared my current life to that list, I would see that I have pretty much checked off everything on it: finished college 3 times over including graduate school (not bad for a dropout with a GED), secured good employment (a career that I actually enjoy, not just a job), bought a house, have a savings account, paid off all consumer debt, and have good kids.
But I’m still not happy. I blame Covid for a lot of it as we’re still suffering some pretty significant consequences at the school I teach at because of the original Covid restrictions. There are, however, other elements. I’m finding it hard to write which has always been one of the few activities I enjoy and simply being unable to continue a book I started has been hard to deal with. (Spice_Weasel read part of it a couple of years ago and strongly encouraged me to keep working at it, which was I think was more meaningful than anything anyone else could have said)> Simply put I don’t know why I feel so… sad all the time.
I’ve lived with this since I was 16 or so, I guess I should be used to it by now.
I can’t believe I didn’t call it this past winter. I really, really should have.
To all my fellow sufferers, many hugs and hope. Go take a walk in the sunshine if you have it.
My own mental health is improving from where I was in November, December. I was able to sell my condo to pay off my bills and have a tiny bit left for a down payment on an apartment for when I get a job. I have a second interview for a poorly-paying but not so stressful one later this week. Fingers crossed. I have got my self confidence back, even though I’m homeless at the moment, couch surfing is me. Technically, I am eligible for early retirement but the amount would not pay for anything more than a place to live so I’m trying to hold out to age 67. 4-1/2 more years.
No professional help for my mental illness yet, but I am now on Medical Assistance so I feel a bit more secure that way. Rent prices, please keep dropping. Just happy to say I’m not a young adult Russian male.
Carnut, I’m so pleased to hear you’re doing better.
I can’t tell you…
We folks need good news.
I came in to this thread to mention my own battles with stuff, but after reading everyone else’s stories, I think I’ll just thank my lucky stars that whilst I’m not in a great place, I’m in a good enough place that’s ok.
And Cazzle, I am REALLY sorry to hear of your stuff happening. I knew that young miss had her health issues and was slowly on the improve, but no clue about your dramas with the young fella. I truly hope you and the dad can come to some sort of truce regarding his care and treatment, because as you so well know, it’s going to be make or break for Mr T. Sending thoughts and best wishes to you all. And everyone else too of course!
I’m doing a fair amount better, I do suspect it has to do with my cycle and PMDD that I just periodically feel like a mess. Even my ADHD is better now. I posted about this in mini-rants, but we had Wee Weasel’s school evaluation on Thursday and the district psychologist/therapists took us 100% seriously. We’re still waiting on the final report but they want to put him a promising Early Childhood Special Education program they believe will really help him. So that is great.
I still can’t fall sleep. Lately it’s work stress. I have the feeling I’m making everything worse by overthinking/ruminating when I should just be letting some things go. But mindful that I am under a lot of general stress right now which can make it harder to let things go.
Thanks. I’m also in a writing rut. It happens. But it sucks because creative expression is one of the best ways to cope with life. Have you ever been treated for your depression?
So glad to hear this. You’ve been through a lot.
Thanks to @Cazzle for starting this thread. It’s good to know that we don’t each struggle in a vacuum, even though it can feel like it.
I’m not near enough like well, but on a rainy, cold day, I am warm and dry and not starving. Some days, that is enough.
I’m coping. That’s what hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars worth of psychiatrists and therapists have bought me. After four years of the medication merry-go-round, I terminated my treatment by my latest psychiatrist last summer. I left my therapist 3 years ago.
Why? Because their sole focus was on whether i was a danger to myself or others. So long as they believed I wasn’t going to kill myself or anyone else in the near future, they could check that box and congratulate themselves on another success story. Meanwhile I’m miserable. They don’t care about quality of life. All they care about is imminent suicide or violent behavior.
My therapist focussed on coping skills. So now i am coping with life. I have no joy. I have no passion. But, dammit I’m coping. Thanks for nothing.
My psychiatrist tried one med after another, with no positve results. He finally gave me a choice. Electroconvulsive therapy (shock treatment), or MAO inhibitors. I declined both, and bid him farewell.
I’m tired. One foot in front of the other. One day after the next. But I’m coping. * confetti *
Mentally I’ve done pretty good for most of my life, through childhood abuse, witnessing death of close friends while in the military, living on the streets of Seattle during a couple of harsh winters, a bad first marriage that left me in incredible debt…you know, the usual crap. Until a couple of Mondays ago.
One moment I was watching a news report about the latest school shooting, and my next coherent moment was in an emergency room quiet area. Apparently My Beloved found me in the bathtub shaking, moaning and scratching the hell out of my arms, legs and face. She and Carla somehow got me dressed and took me to the hospital, where I was put into a softly lit quiet room and given a small pill to help me stabilize.
But I’m much better now.
Sorry to hear that happened. I see you still have a great sense of humor.
Czarcsm: I feel your pain. PTSD is a bitch and it tends to show up just when you think all is well. I have reached the conclusion that my brain doles out the trauma to be addressed in small doses; the dose makes the poison. But when something happens to tip the bottle, all hell breaks loose.
It’s frankly no fun either way. Just when everything is calm and content, my brain says “Oh good, we can process XXX now.” and I’m back to square one, working through another piece from the little box of horrors. I sometimes wish there were a way to just rip off the bandaid, deal with it all at once, and then be guaranteed that I won’t have to face it again. Someday I’ll have the money and the time to try psychedelics therapy, which is finally becoming safe, legal, and available. It’s my understanding that’s the one thing that can dig up and de-fang old trauma without reinjuring the mind.