Welcome to My Nightmare

here is an article I wrote a few days ago. blogging is keeping my mind active.

Welcome To My Nightmare

Hello. And welcome. It’s not so easy to let you in. I have spent a lot of time on the internet, but not so much posting. A couple of years ago, when I discovered that facebook and email was the key to not having to use telephones, the internet became something of a lifeline. Maybe literally.

I guess I am an agoraphobe. This is something that I never really self-identified with until about a week ago. I suppose I should have known. Telephones and knocks on the door send sudders down my spine and send me running to the basement to hide. I would be invited to parties and sit alone in another room with a guitar. What a weirdo. I am almost 30, and I suppose I have suffered from depression and anxiety my whole life. Last week was my first contact with a doctor. One who would listen anyway.

I had been to walk-in clinics a number of times over the years. The problem is, if I was healthy enough to go to the walk-in, then I wasn’t showing any symptoms, and I was sure they would think I was lying. So I would wait until I had another problem to deal with. A hurt ankle, or a sore throat. At the end of the visit I would say, “I also have a problem with anxiety,” and they would tell me that I looked fine, and only one problem allowed per visit.

I live in Canada, where health care is “free”. Problem is, it’s almost impossible to find a decent family doctor who will see you. The first step is to call the physicians hotline and wait to see if a doctor is accepting new patients, and then wait for them too call. Or not call. Luckily, I had a doctor in the family who spoke to a friend of his and got me hooked up with her. I am a male, and would prefer a male doctor, but really I just wanted somebody who would listen. And she did.

She had to get extra sheets of paper to write out my history and symptoms. I missed about 4 months of 6th grade, because I couldn’t take being in the room with the other children. I never graduated high school, I wandered the halls looking for some space where I could sit alone until the next class started. Until I stopped going altogether. I lived with friends for awhile in my early twenties when I was playing in a punk band. I would wait outside drinking until we went onstage, and as soon as we were done I rushed straight out the door while people laughed at the weirdo that I was. The last three or four months I lived with them, we had no contact and I stayed in the basement, behind the heater, only coming out for food and to ask family for money. I swallowed a bunch a pills once, not sure if I wanted to die, or just get help. I was in the hallway of the hospital alone for a long time. Not sure how long, I was too messed up from the pills. When the psyche nurse, finally came, I went running.

My father helped me start going to martial arts classes, which is both a joy and a torture. I would go in the afternoon when the classes were small and with people that I knew were safe. Real good people. Some times I would go and drive right by. Showing up five minutes late, and leaving five minutes early helped me avoid the worst of it. I eventually earned a brown belt in brazillian jiu jitsu, and have competed in both Brazil and Abu Dhabi, believe it or not. Physical opponents are so much easier to fight that the demons.

I have worked 12-15 hours a week in a pizza place since then. Pretty much put all my lifes ambitions on hold. I wanted to be a musician, a writer, and a filmmaker. But the crippling depression and anxiety stopped everything. A panic attack, for those of you who don’t know, is the feeling of death coming over you, slowly, then stronger until you are physically and mentally crippled. The sadism of a panicking death, is that it keeps you alive to feel it.

the other half is here if you are interested, or I can just post it next time


http://agoraphobicdiaries.wordpress....6/hello-world/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jazzfRKV4v8

This is me playing guitar to cope with my anxiety. I hope you guys have some hobby as well. Also hope it's ok to post this here.

The Drugs, wow. And I thought the chemicals in my brain were strong.

The days are hard to measure. Friday was good, or at least stable. Saturday I was nearly rushed to the ER by my step-father, an MD, just from the look on my face. I'm not able to plan for anything, not even writing this blog. Energy is a blessing, and everytime it blows my way I'm thankful. Sunday was great, until about 8:00 in the evening when I tried to watch an episode of Inspector Lewis. First of all, wrong show to watch. It's a very wordy, upper class English show, full of Oxford and Cambridge types. There was no way I could follow the plot. I couldn't even watch TV a week ago.But I was up for the challenge! Panic, however, had other ideas; and I spent the evening instead staring at a wall, with prickly tingles up and down my arms and legs, and a towel around my head.

So, I had the second meeting with my Doctor yesterday. Much less exciting that the first. When we first met, I was in tears, uncontrollable tears, and spilled my guts hard. Actually, I don't even remember much of what I said. Glad she took so many notes. She had to grab extra sheets of paper to write down my history and symptoms, that didn't suprise me. It really felt like, after all this time, the cavalry had arrived. I could here the trumpets and the horses. You will get better, she said. You will have a relationship, she said.

http://agoraphobicdiaries.wordpress.com/
this is my second post. more to come when I have the energy. feel free to leave a comment or ask questions.

http://agoraphobicdiaries.wordpress.com/ you can read the whole things here.

Celexa (citalopram) is a drug used to treat major depression, and sometimes anxiety. Thats works for me because I suffer from both. At the moment, I suffer from Celexa. This is a very powerful drug. Oh, man.

I started on a 10mg dose, which was just 1/2 a 20mg pill. I was so messed up before I started taking it that I was actually having trouble with what half a pill was. Thank god I have family helping me through this. The first week of the 10mg dose, I didn't really notice much, and was using sub-lingual ativan to deal with my anxiety. The ativan really seemed to help, usually within about twenty minutes, but I still spent most of my day on the couch wrapped in blanket from my toes to my head. I wasn't sure why I was only taking a 10mg dose of the Celexa for the first week if both my doctor and I agreed that I suffered from such major depression. I figured out why on my first day of the 20mg dose.

Superman was born on planet Krypton. Now, my understanding of the story is that Krypton has gravity way more powerful that what we find on earth. And some kind of unstable radioactive core. So, everyone on Krypton develops under this intense gravity and radioactivity. Superman would NOT have been super, had he stayed on planet Krypton. He would have just been Clark Kent, or whatever wierd name they would give him on that planet. Point is, he would have been just like everyone else. But alas, this unstable radioactive core blew up the whole planet, and Superman survived only because his parents sent him away as a baby to planet earth. Because his genes are built for Krypton, when he came to earth with its weaker gravity and physics, he becomes super. Everyone else was normal because they were built for earth, but he became super. Now imagine the situation reversed. Celexa makes me feel like an earthling visiting krypton. I am walking, and thinking, through mud. The gravity is stronger than it used to be, and the radiation is melting my brain.