sevenyearautopsy
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Aug 1, 2015
- Messages
- 15
Hello,
First of all: I'm new to the forum, just registered. Came here by chance thru some random googling about Zyprexa and saw some kind hearted, wise and experienced souls here which was a good first impression. Thanks for listening
My story (the short version)
Seven years ago I had my first real depressive episode. I was 21 years old, lived with my then girlfriend since three years, and studied photography full time, the second year of studies. I have repressed the memories so much so I can't really say how it started, or when, but I remember being totally out of energy. I spent what felt like weeks in bed, neglecting school, and hiding away from the world. Everything seemed pointless, I was having severe doubts about my choice of career and it was increasingly obvious that my relationship was going to tank completely. My passion for photography and my girlfriend had been my two pillars of safety and now the future seemed like a big black hole.
What I think really pushed me into the depression was an photo assignment I did that autumn. Usually I made documentary style work but this was a staged photo that I eventually came to understand was about my mother. She had, to my great surprise at the time, had to be put in psychiatric ward for some time and became diagnosed with bipolar disorder back when I was about 7 years old (and then again around 13 (?)). Basically I had re-created the day when I first discovered my mom was not "right". By doing this photo, and talking to one of my teachers about it, I opened up this pandoras box of stowed away memories from my child hood years. And once opened it didn't seem to close again. I got propelled into basically a manic depressive behavior, alternating between being stuck in bed for days, and running around all over the place as if nothing had happened.
To make a long winding story short, I ended up in a psychiatric clinic for three weeks late the following spring. Before that I had: crashed my three year long relationship in the most chaotic way without even being aware of really anything, dropped out of school but still showed up every now and then to confuse everybody and act totally out of character, gotten my first tattoo, probably behaved really weird in front of most people I knew at the time, had the contract for me and my (now) x-girlfriends apartment run out = no place to live, tried a handful of pharmaceuticals (each turning me more and more into a zombie), told a lot of lies and had a lot of strange ideas.
After the clinic:
I ran away from the clinic once but got brought back by police. I only have the slightest memory of this event. Besides that I was indoors for almost three full weeks. I met some strange, beautiful and unsettling characters that in there. I remember once being let out for a walk with one of the care givers and how utterly psychadelic it was to be able to see the sky and things further away than fifty meters. I had applied in some kind of court to be let out, I was to unaware at the time to really comprehend what was happening and who these people were. When I finally got word that I was going to be set free I was so done with the place, and much more clear in the head. I stayed in bed for five days, only getting up for some meals, I was just waiting. I packed my few belongings and took the train back home to my parents place in another town.
That summer was spent in my new body, all of the sudden 15 kilos heavier, on my parents veranda, in the shade. Playing The Sims 3, trying to escape my reality and muffle the voice in my head telling me how this was the end of my life. My self-confidence was at an all time low, as was my mood. Except for my parents I and younger brother I met with friends perhaps two or three times during those months. As autumn came, for some reason, I started studying history and a local university, to pass the time and chase away thoughts. I studied, I played a MMORPG and I went to the gym. Every night I was stuck with myself. If death was not the worst thing I could imagine I probably wouldn't be alive now. In my mind I had received this diagnosis as a sentence and I believed that it meant that I would never be able to a) have close relations again b) have a "normal" life c) be independent d) trust myself e) be happy. Since I didn't want to die I was stuck in this limbo and I saw no end to it.
Fast forward to now:
I've been on Zyprexa since I got let out of the clinic. I don't have any contact with the psychiatric system what so ever. I call a number a few times a year to make sure I can access medicines but I don't even talk to a doctor. All though I was at a low dose for Zyprexa (5mg daily) it was really messing up my head and body. I moved away from home again about 9 months after having moved back to my parents. I was working as a post man then and delivering mail by bike. I remember being so tired and sluggish every morning and until I was done with work. That I even managed was by pure will. On top of that I was always hungry, everything seemed dull and uninspiring. These are the same side effects I have now. I started to mix with the dose and only took my pill every other night, and sometimes every third night.
This worked a lot better, I would get my energy back and things seemed rich and meaningful again those days when I had not taken the pill the night before. But in the end I would have trouble sleeping and I started to become too happy, and get some strange ideas. I could talk about this and the insecurites and meta-discussions it created in my head for a long time. In short I would say I still have big problems knowing what is my real self, when I am me. I have learned a huge deal about myself and I know how to manage this now, I seldom do stupid things anymore because of sudden ideas and I know the signs that tells me it is time to take the pill.
And the next day is fucked. If I take my pill at 9 PM I can feel the effects until about 5 PM the next day. First of all, I have no trouble sleeping 14 hours straight if I don't set an alarm. My body feels heavy, I feel totally uninspired, I don't want to talk to anyone, I act weird in social situations because of how shy and slow I feel, I have trouble talking because I get stuck inside my own head and perhaphs worst of all I get this strong sense of doubt. I interpret everything in the worst way, I start doubting my own feelings, I easily start believing that even my friends dislike me, any projects and fun things I usually look forward to seems boring and I want to cancel.
Now usually I take the pill every fourth or fifth day, depending on how I feel and when I can afford to have one of those days. So it's about 1/5 of my days that I feel this way because of the Zyprexa. It's still better than becoming depressed or manic of course, but it really sucks and I am fed up with it. So I am finally going to take the step and try to change my medication to something else.
I'm still very much a moody person and right now I am going through some very rough times with my girlfriend. We met a year ago and it's been really intense in both wonderful and difficult ways. (A few months ago our talks made me cry. I hadn't cried for more than 10 years. I cried again yesterday, I'm so happy I'm not a robot as I thought) I am very scared right now that because of all my problems I will destroy our relationship, if I haven't all ready. I am also afraid of how much I love her and that I will lose touch with reality again if we separate. I don't want to be so dependent on her, it makes everything very asymmetrical.
I can see in hindsight how my mild depressive and mild manic episodes (that I still experience, even though I am on the medication) along with a huge baggage of shit and dysfunctional behaviors (big part of my personality) has caused many of the bad events of my life in the past years. Especially with girls that I met during this time, but also with keeping friends and being good at socializing. And with believing in myself, both in my ability and in that I deserve to have a good life. This whole story is nothing that I talk about with people. I have a handful of close friends, but I don't really see them so often due to different reasons, and even these people don't all know my story or only small parts of it.
I feel like there is a huge stigma attached to being mentally ill, and that people will shy away from me if I tell them. I am also really scared of people judging my behavior and feelings from a perspective that I have bipolar disorder and everything is directly related to that. A huge part is related to that, but in a way that only I can come close to comprehend. I think of it as the foundation of my other thoughts of emotions rest upon, but that these in turn are complex and big enough to be their own thing. There is also the constant debate in my head about what is my personality and what is my disorder. Recently I started to look at myself in the mirror thinking that if I don't take these pills that makes me feel horrible, my body is trying to kill itself either by depression or by manic episodes that get's totally out of hand if left to grow.
Last paragraph:
Recently I have had a lot of talks with my girlfriend and realized how much of a mess I really am. And that I need to get myself sorted out. The joy I could feel some months ago about having a job, a fantastic partner, hobbies, a better self confidence and a direction in life isn't worth a lot anymore. Many things have come to the surface and I am back to not liking myself, being afraid and paralyzed. Either I lay down now and die (I wont) or I start working with myself to be better. But it's a big fucking hill to climb.
Some kind of therapy, and looking over my medication seems like crucial parts of this journey. Any help, suggestions and shared wisdom is greatly appreciated. Thank you so much for your time if you read it all. Love and light
----
(For info, since it's that kind of a forum: I've never really used drugs to any extent. Two years ago I would smoke weed sometimes but made vow to only do it when I'm happy. I like weed though. Right now I don't have a easy way of getting hold of some and I think it's good, I need to be sharp. I tried MDMA three times last year and it was really good experiences that helped me on some level right then.)
First of all: I'm new to the forum, just registered. Came here by chance thru some random googling about Zyprexa and saw some kind hearted, wise and experienced souls here which was a good first impression. Thanks for listening
My story (the short version)
Seven years ago I had my first real depressive episode. I was 21 years old, lived with my then girlfriend since three years, and studied photography full time, the second year of studies. I have repressed the memories so much so I can't really say how it started, or when, but I remember being totally out of energy. I spent what felt like weeks in bed, neglecting school, and hiding away from the world. Everything seemed pointless, I was having severe doubts about my choice of career and it was increasingly obvious that my relationship was going to tank completely. My passion for photography and my girlfriend had been my two pillars of safety and now the future seemed like a big black hole.
What I think really pushed me into the depression was an photo assignment I did that autumn. Usually I made documentary style work but this was a staged photo that I eventually came to understand was about my mother. She had, to my great surprise at the time, had to be put in psychiatric ward for some time and became diagnosed with bipolar disorder back when I was about 7 years old (and then again around 13 (?)). Basically I had re-created the day when I first discovered my mom was not "right". By doing this photo, and talking to one of my teachers about it, I opened up this pandoras box of stowed away memories from my child hood years. And once opened it didn't seem to close again. I got propelled into basically a manic depressive behavior, alternating between being stuck in bed for days, and running around all over the place as if nothing had happened.
To make a long winding story short, I ended up in a psychiatric clinic for three weeks late the following spring. Before that I had: crashed my three year long relationship in the most chaotic way without even being aware of really anything, dropped out of school but still showed up every now and then to confuse everybody and act totally out of character, gotten my first tattoo, probably behaved really weird in front of most people I knew at the time, had the contract for me and my (now) x-girlfriends apartment run out = no place to live, tried a handful of pharmaceuticals (each turning me more and more into a zombie), told a lot of lies and had a lot of strange ideas.
After the clinic:
I ran away from the clinic once but got brought back by police. I only have the slightest memory of this event. Besides that I was indoors for almost three full weeks. I met some strange, beautiful and unsettling characters that in there. I remember once being let out for a walk with one of the care givers and how utterly psychadelic it was to be able to see the sky and things further away than fifty meters. I had applied in some kind of court to be let out, I was to unaware at the time to really comprehend what was happening and who these people were. When I finally got word that I was going to be set free I was so done with the place, and much more clear in the head. I stayed in bed for five days, only getting up for some meals, I was just waiting. I packed my few belongings and took the train back home to my parents place in another town.
That summer was spent in my new body, all of the sudden 15 kilos heavier, on my parents veranda, in the shade. Playing The Sims 3, trying to escape my reality and muffle the voice in my head telling me how this was the end of my life. My self-confidence was at an all time low, as was my mood. Except for my parents I and younger brother I met with friends perhaps two or three times during those months. As autumn came, for some reason, I started studying history and a local university, to pass the time and chase away thoughts. I studied, I played a MMORPG and I went to the gym. Every night I was stuck with myself. If death was not the worst thing I could imagine I probably wouldn't be alive now. In my mind I had received this diagnosis as a sentence and I believed that it meant that I would never be able to a) have close relations again b) have a "normal" life c) be independent d) trust myself e) be happy. Since I didn't want to die I was stuck in this limbo and I saw no end to it.
Fast forward to now:
I've been on Zyprexa since I got let out of the clinic. I don't have any contact with the psychiatric system what so ever. I call a number a few times a year to make sure I can access medicines but I don't even talk to a doctor. All though I was at a low dose for Zyprexa (5mg daily) it was really messing up my head and body. I moved away from home again about 9 months after having moved back to my parents. I was working as a post man then and delivering mail by bike. I remember being so tired and sluggish every morning and until I was done with work. That I even managed was by pure will. On top of that I was always hungry, everything seemed dull and uninspiring. These are the same side effects I have now. I started to mix with the dose and only took my pill every other night, and sometimes every third night.
This worked a lot better, I would get my energy back and things seemed rich and meaningful again those days when I had not taken the pill the night before. But in the end I would have trouble sleeping and I started to become too happy, and get some strange ideas. I could talk about this and the insecurites and meta-discussions it created in my head for a long time. In short I would say I still have big problems knowing what is my real self, when I am me. I have learned a huge deal about myself and I know how to manage this now, I seldom do stupid things anymore because of sudden ideas and I know the signs that tells me it is time to take the pill.
And the next day is fucked. If I take my pill at 9 PM I can feel the effects until about 5 PM the next day. First of all, I have no trouble sleeping 14 hours straight if I don't set an alarm. My body feels heavy, I feel totally uninspired, I don't want to talk to anyone, I act weird in social situations because of how shy and slow I feel, I have trouble talking because I get stuck inside my own head and perhaphs worst of all I get this strong sense of doubt. I interpret everything in the worst way, I start doubting my own feelings, I easily start believing that even my friends dislike me, any projects and fun things I usually look forward to seems boring and I want to cancel.
Now usually I take the pill every fourth or fifth day, depending on how I feel and when I can afford to have one of those days. So it's about 1/5 of my days that I feel this way because of the Zyprexa. It's still better than becoming depressed or manic of course, but it really sucks and I am fed up with it. So I am finally going to take the step and try to change my medication to something else.
I'm still very much a moody person and right now I am going through some very rough times with my girlfriend. We met a year ago and it's been really intense in both wonderful and difficult ways. (A few months ago our talks made me cry. I hadn't cried for more than 10 years. I cried again yesterday, I'm so happy I'm not a robot as I thought) I am very scared right now that because of all my problems I will destroy our relationship, if I haven't all ready. I am also afraid of how much I love her and that I will lose touch with reality again if we separate. I don't want to be so dependent on her, it makes everything very asymmetrical.
I can see in hindsight how my mild depressive and mild manic episodes (that I still experience, even though I am on the medication) along with a huge baggage of shit and dysfunctional behaviors (big part of my personality) has caused many of the bad events of my life in the past years. Especially with girls that I met during this time, but also with keeping friends and being good at socializing. And with believing in myself, both in my ability and in that I deserve to have a good life. This whole story is nothing that I talk about with people. I have a handful of close friends, but I don't really see them so often due to different reasons, and even these people don't all know my story or only small parts of it.
I feel like there is a huge stigma attached to being mentally ill, and that people will shy away from me if I tell them. I am also really scared of people judging my behavior and feelings from a perspective that I have bipolar disorder and everything is directly related to that. A huge part is related to that, but in a way that only I can come close to comprehend. I think of it as the foundation of my other thoughts of emotions rest upon, but that these in turn are complex and big enough to be their own thing. There is also the constant debate in my head about what is my personality and what is my disorder. Recently I started to look at myself in the mirror thinking that if I don't take these pills that makes me feel horrible, my body is trying to kill itself either by depression or by manic episodes that get's totally out of hand if left to grow.
Last paragraph:
Recently I have had a lot of talks with my girlfriend and realized how much of a mess I really am. And that I need to get myself sorted out. The joy I could feel some months ago about having a job, a fantastic partner, hobbies, a better self confidence and a direction in life isn't worth a lot anymore. Many things have come to the surface and I am back to not liking myself, being afraid and paralyzed. Either I lay down now and die (I wont) or I start working with myself to be better. But it's a big fucking hill to climb.
Some kind of therapy, and looking over my medication seems like crucial parts of this journey. Any help, suggestions and shared wisdom is greatly appreciated. Thank you so much for your time if you read it all. Love and light
----
(For info, since it's that kind of a forum: I've never really used drugs to any extent. Two years ago I would smoke weed sometimes but made vow to only do it when I'm happy. I like weed though. Right now I don't have a easy way of getting hold of some and I think it's good, I need to be sharp. I tried MDMA three times last year and it was really good experiences that helped me on some level right then.)