Seroquel

A week or so ago, I went to my GP about the unending depression and she gave me a prescription for Seroquel. I knew this was technically an anti-psychotic drug, generally used to treat bi-polar disorder, but I did a lot of research on it and it can be used, in small doses, as a side treatment of depression. The side effects listed were scary and on one site I found, called crazymeds.us, it pretty much said you'd feel dead on your feet all the time.

I took one dose of 25 mg around 9 pm the first night and it didn't make me feel particularly tired that night, but the next day was a total fog. I felt like I was walking thru sludge all day long and like my brain was full of cotton wool. It was awful. I didn't take it again. I do have a call in to a psychiatric prescriber, so I'm hoping I can get something that won't make me feel like such a sloth. I can't be that exhausted all the time.

I was talking to a friend of mine, who is bi-polar, and she was telling me that she takes a really high dose of Seroquel before bed. She said the few times she's forgotten to take it, she wakes up the next morning feeling fantastic. She knows, however, that the tiredness is worth it in order to keep her manic phases at bay. 

Finally, there's a really good documentary about being bi-polar. If you struggle with this, or know anyone who does, I highly recommend it. It's hosted by Stephen Fry, who is bi-polar himself. I found it to be fascinating.  This is part 1.

And this is part 2.

Give it a watch.

Surfacing pt. 2

I'm feeling better. Like, not hanging on to the better by a thread thing, but honestly better. I don't know what switch was flipped in my brain, but it flipped and I'm very glad of it.

My primary care doctor gave me a prescription for Seroquel. I took it once, but it made me feel so groggy and lousy the next day that I haven't taken it again. I'm hanging on to it, just in case this better feeling doesn't last, but it's been a couple of days and I haven't felt like crying once, which I'm calling a result.

Depression is a weird beast. I don't enjoy it one little bit. I wish there was a way to cure this disease, instead of just medicating it, because the side effects from a lot of the medications are almost as unbearable as the depression itself.

I should just rename this blog The Big Blog of Depression.

I was trolling thru the jobs section on Craigslist yesterday, when I noticed a listing for a short contract job I did in June/July. They need someone again. They didn't contact me. Maybe I really am shitty at what I do. Maybe I should just find some dumb, $10 an hour job and say fuck it to trying to have a career in anything. Maybe that's all I'm capable of doing.

And I have to go drop off my laptop at the job I have right now, the job that reduce my hours to a whopping 8 hours a week when my kid got sick last fall. The job that gave my job away to someone they fucking FIRED a year before. I don't want to see any of them. I'm afraid of what I might say. Because what I want to say is something like this:

Thanks for kicking me in the head when I was down. Thanks for giving my job away to someone else, thanks for not understanding that my sick child is important, but so is my job, and that, even while she was in the hospital, I was still doing my work, bringing my laptop with me to appointments and into the hospital, so I could be there for her AND still get my work done. Thanks for leaving that shitty accidental voice mail saying that I never answered the phones and was terrible at my job. Thanks for putting me down when another company called, looking for a reference. That was really great. You people suck and I hope you go out of business.

I just feel like, ever since my hours were reduced, that my life has been one long suckfest. I'm completely broke right now. I can't even afford to get my kid a birthday present. I had to go to a food pantry last week because I didn't have enough money to buy food. I'm rationing fucking toilet paper because I'm so strapped right now. And the shitty part of my brain, the one that sends me into these funks, is saying "It's because of those people at work. They're badmouthing you around and that's why you can't find another job." I have no proof that that's true, mind you, but that's what my brain is doing.

I hate my brain.

"You live in terror of the future because you're always waiting for the next bad thing to happen to you."

Ah, awful weight! Infinity Pressed down upon the finite Me! My anguished spirit, like a bird, Beating against my lips I heard; Yet lay the weight so close about There was no room for it without. And so beneath the weight lay I And suffered death, but could not die. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15416#sthash.lCiJj6xe.dpuf

Ah, awful weight! Infinity

Pressed down upon the finite Me!

My anguished spirit, like a bird,

Beating against my lips I heard;

Yet lay the weight so close about

There was no room for it without.

And so beneath the weight lay I

And suffered death, but could not die.

Ah, awful weight! Infinity Pressed down upon the finite Me! My anguished spirit, like a bird, Beating against my lips I heard; Yet lay the weight so close about There was no room for it without. And so beneath the weight lay I And suffered death, but could not die. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15416#sthash.lCiJj6xe.dpuf

 Renasence - Edna St. Vincent-Millay

These two pieces describe how I've been feeling lately. I can't remember where I heard the first one, but it rings true for me. This is how I live now, waiting for the other shoe to drop, knowing it's just a matter of time.

I can't get out from under this depression. It's making me crazy. I hate feeling like this. I want it to just go away, but every day, I wake up and it's still there. I'm so broke right now, which is only adding to all of this. I have $29 in my bank account. I haven't bought my daughter her birthday present yet because I don't have any money to get her anything. I send out resumes constantly and I can't even get in the door for an interview. I'm angry and upset about everything and I just want it all to stop. How do I make it stop?

Ah, awful weight! Infinity Pressed down upon the finite Me! My anguished spirit, like a bird, Beating against my lips I heard; Yet lay the weight so close about There was no room for it without. And so beneath the weight lay I And suffered death, but could not die. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15416#sthash.lCiJj6xe.dpuf