My Confusing Loss of Direction. What is my Goal in Life?

I can’t believe how long it has been since I last posted. The months have blurred together and my mind is mush. Because it has been so long since I last wrote, I’m struggling to produce coherent sentences which is confusing and depressing. I’ts as if I have lost a part of myself and I’m struggling to get it back. Over the last few months, every time I tried to write my mind would go blank and force me to quit. I was scared to write.  Scared to break my obsessive schedule. And scared that I would lose control and be consumed by my obsession for success. So instead of going through the painful process of obsession, I decided to quit and avoid the “unnecessary” struggle. Herein lies the problem: I don’t know how to do anything without completely obsessing about it. Everything I have done over the last decade has been a result of mania and obsession, which has always caused me to become mentally and physically sick leading me to quit whatever I was doing (yes graduated college, but I wasted my three years there trying to graduate early instead studying and learning).

As such, I’m currently struggling to figure out how I can do something without over obsessing about it. Also, I’m no longer manic so I can’t do as much as I want (when I was manic, I was able to handle numerous jobs and produce a tremendous amount of work. Although, the mania ultimately landed me in the hospital). Thus, I have been avoiding everything the last few months. (Rest of post after picture)

(wikipedia.org)

You might be wondering why I’m writing. Although I don’t really know why, I’ve been trying to push myself to post the last few months. Everyday I log onto my blog, check the stats, read the comments and then log off. Sometimes I would create a new post and sit there staring at the blank screen. But for some odd reason, today I decided to finally write a post. I don’t know if this means I am going to continue writing, or if anyone is even reading this. But I have realized once again, that I love to write and it makes me feel good.

On the positive side I am no longer depressed or manic (although I’m still struggling with severe social anxiety, it is not present everyday). In fact it has been over a year since I was hospitalized and my mind is finally clear. On top of that I’ve been sober since February 3rd, my longest period of sobriety since 2005.

To end this post I was wondering if any of my readers have suggestions on how to overcome obsession. Also, what are your obsession/mania stories. How has mania and OCD impacted your life?

I hope you are all well,

Dave.

Ps. Has anyone used Squidoo or Hubpages? I’m thinking about joining and trying to produce various articles.

Thank You for All of the Amazing Comments and Support

As I said in the title thank you for commenting, discussing, supporting and relating to my struggles. This means the world to me. The last week has been a living nightmare. Every day I woke up, I was drowning in darkness and despair. My depression was at an all time high and to make things worse I was also struggling with crippling anxiety and paranoia – essentially this was a mixed episode and the last time I had one I was locked up in a psych ward.

For five days I was desperate to have the pain end and midway through my episode I wanted my life to end. I’m not suicidal, but I have had thoughts of death before and this time I truly wanted to die. I thought my life was pointless.

However, a day later I contacted one of my friends and asked for help. This was a huge step for me as I rarely reach out to other human beings.  But it was the right thing to do. My friend spent the next few hours texting and talking with me.  She reassured me, provided me with support and listened to my struggles. By the time our conversation ended, I felt a lot better. Although I was still depressed, I had confidence to continue fighting. Because I reached out and asked for help, I was able to overcome my mixed episode and realize that that my life is not pointless.

Currently I’m not depressed, or anxious, or paranoid, or manic. In fact, I feel great. What made this possible was seeing all of the amazing comments that have been left on my previous post.  My goal is to read through all of them and try to respond to as many as possible.

Again thank you for your support and your stories. The goal of this blog is to become a forum for people who struggle with mental illness and to be a safe place for people to discuss, comment and tell their stories.

I would love to hear more of your stories. How many of you have had a mixed episode? How many of you have spent time in a psych ward? And does anyone have any tips on how to overcome depression?

I hope you are all doing well! And remember, stay strong and never give up!!!

Dave.

Domino says hi And here is a picture of baby Domino

 

My Struggle with Anxiety/OCD- An example of my Confusing Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

*Thank you so much for all of the comments and support. You have helped me so much and I hope you also feel better being able to comment and talk about your stories. My goal is to read all of the comments and respond to as many comments as I can. Further, if you like this post, please visit my latest post: Again thank you for all of your comets and I look forward to our future discussions

Although I’m moving closer to stability, my anxiety refuses to go away.  Last week was an anxiety filled nightmare. I made myself sick (something I used to do as a kid), convinced myself that someone or something was following me and I almost collapsed from fear of germs. It’s frustrating because every time I get closer to “normality” I end forcing myself to fall apart (well I don’t know if I’m consciously doing this, but something deep in my psyche is working against me). In fact, even with my medication my life is consumed by my obsessions…

For me to leave my apartment or go to sleep, I have to check everything to make sure it’s in the right place. I walk in circles examining various things because I’m convinced that if I don’t I will end up dying. If the word “off” on the oven knobs are not evenly split by the line marker (I don’t know what the line is called, it’s the mark you use to determine the level of heat the oven produces), I fear that the oven will turn on and fill my apartment with toxic gas causing me to suffocate in my sleep (or create a combustible environment where the apartment would explode when I open the front door). I then check all of the items on my kitchen counters out of fear that they will fall onto the floor, causing me to trip and break my while walking to the bathroom (during the night). From there I go to the bathroom and make sure that it is exactly the same as it was the day before (oddly, there is nothing that causes me fear here, it has just become part of my obsessive routine). Once I’ve checked the bathroom I then examine my TV, making sure that my protective movie stacks are in place so that my cat won’t jump up there and knock the TV over (I sleep on chair in my living room and the TV is right in front of me).

At this point I usually realize that I have wasted a tremendous amount of time, so I force myself to rush towards my next task: checking the front door. I have to touch each lock and door chain, making sure they are in place. I then relock the door handle, grip it and turn it 12 times. For me to be able to release the door knob it cannot make any noise, as I’m convinced that if it does the door is not really locked and someone could walk into my apartment and slit my throat while I was sleeping. This process usually lasts 10-15 minutes and always makes my anxiety worse. Once I’m satisfied the door is locked I move on to my last task: making sure the window blinds are fully closed. I walk back and forth while counting to three. I then move to the middle of the window where I look up and down making sure that the top, middle and bottom are closed. By this point I’m usually ready to pass out, so I go to my chair, sit down and look backwards to make sure everything is truly closed. (I apologize for this confusing/jumbled paragraph, as my anxiety has increased causing me to struggle with my ability to write. Hopefully it was readable).

Although the ending part deals with me going to sleep, the process is essentially the same when I try to go outside. When I’m really, really, really anxious/nervous this process can last for over an hour and a half.

—–

This obsession drives me crazy because it’s completely irrational. I’ve been doing this for over a year and although I feel better, I can’t get rid of this pointless process. No matter how much I try to convince myself that I won’t die I can’t seem to stop myself.

Well that is all I can write at the moment. This post was hard to produce, as it forced me to confront my anxiety and obsessions.

I was wondering if any of my readers have had similar experiences and stories? Further if you have dealt with anxiety, do you have any tips to overcome these obsessions?

I hope you are all having a great week

Dave.

Ps. My cat domino says hi and hopes everyone is doing well

Mental Illness: For the First Time in Years I’m Happy….

I don’t know where to start. The last month has been a life changing experience. As I said in the title I’m happy, which is an emotion I never thought I could attain. For over a year, my life was shrouded in darkness. For over  a year, I was a prisoner of depression and agoraphobia. For over a year I lost sight of my future, my potential, my existence and the thought of hope. And yet here I sit, basking in the warmth of happiness.

Everyday I wonder if my state of happiness is real. Thus far my answer is yes. Not only am I happy, I’m also sober. I reached 6 months of sobriety last week, which is the longest stretch of sobriety in over 8 years. In the past I hated getting sober. I would spend most of my time thinking about getting high and as result I became a nervous wreck. Eventually I would give into my addiction and start using again.

This time, however, is different. I want to be sober. I want to have a happy life that is not is shackled by pain killers and weed. I want to be able to think and emote and have a stable life. Something that is not possible while using drugs. For the first time in my life I’m happy to be sober.

Not only am I sober and happy, I have finally friends. For most of my life I’ve been friendless. I was always the odd kid, who was loud and friendly. But no one cared or gave a shit about me. And when I finally found a “friend,” they either abused me or perpetuated my drug use. As a result, I never thought I would find a true friend. But I was wrong. About a month ago I started going to a support group and although I was nervous they accepted me. Before I knew it I was texting them, calling them and going out with various members of the group. It’s an amazing experience to be able to confide in someone else and to know that they will be there for me when I’m struggling (and I will be there for them).

So there you have it, a brief post on my progress to happiness. However, there is a lot of work that needs to be done before I can consider myself “stable.”  In the coming weeks I hope I will be able to write and post as I miss everyone who has commented on my blog. I hope you are all well and I look forward to conversing with you once again.

Well that is all for now,

Dave.

Can I Overcome My Obsessions so That I can Start Working Again?

My mind is filled with fear, my body reeks of old sweat from not showering, my hair is greasy, my eyes are blood shot and my hands are trembling. I’m not depressed, in fact I’m far from the eternal darkness that has consumed me for most of this year. Rather I’m afraid of the changes that are occurring in my life. I’m afraid that I will fail. I’m afraid that I will lose my sobriety and start using again. I’m afraid that I will lose my ability to write. I’m afraid that my future will be no more. And I’m afraid that my mind will crack and I will loose all of my progress, all of my healing and end up back in the hospital.

I should be happy that I have a new job and that I’m not depressed. I should  be relieved that it has been months since my last mixed episode. And I should be happy that I am still sober.

But I’m not. All I can think about is that I will fail and lose everything. It has happened before, in fact most of my life is filled with incomplete projects and jobs that I could never hold. Yes, I graduated from college, but I didn’t learn anything and never paid attention. Most of my time was spent trying to figure out how to graduate early and to make myself well known. I was afraid that when I died, my existence and history would be lost forever.

So I made myself well known. I did PR for my college’s football team. Before I stared working for them, their average attendance was 100. When I quit, they were getting close to 1000 fans a game. I obsessed about working with the football team so much that my life became the football team. I stopped doing my homework, I rarely slept, I never read or played video games and I had no friends. Instead I spent all of my time with the football team trying to make them into a massive success. I became so driven that I began working with the community that surrounded the school. I attended city business networking groups, had lunch with local civic leaders and convinced the mayor to work with the school. At that point my obsession exploded and I shifted my interests from the football team to the school itself.  I was convinced that I could reunite the city and the college (for years the city had shunned the college, and the college refused to acknowledge city. Instead of working together they ignored each other).

I started working with the president of the school to help increase the college’s exposure and convinced her that we needed to build a relationship between the city and the college. I was just a college student and yet I was able to have numerous private meetings with the president (I was able to circumvent her secretary and the rest of her staff. No student had ever been able to do that before. I was put on her schedule along with donors, politicians and business leaders). She agreed and I stared doing various jobs for her, as well as becoming one of her PR advisers. I was given an official title and I was invited to join a major committee that worked on various projects to improve the school (the board consisted of professors, heads of every major department in the school, student government president/vice president and me) as well as the student run activities committee. At that point I had my hands in every part of the school and was the creator of the school’s new slogan (there is a lot more, but it is a little fuzzy and I don’t really want to think about it, because it stresses me out).

I had my wish; I was well known and respected. But my life was fucking miserable. I had spread myself so thin and had so many responsibilities that I didn’t know what to do. Instead of asking for help, I just gave up. I stopped going to the meetings, I stopped helping and I stopped caring. I shut myself in my dorm room and gave up on life.

For the next year I did absolutely nothing. I watched TV and drank myself into oblivion. I stopped caring about school and just wanted to graduate . At that point I thought my life was over. I had no reason to live, I had no reason to move forward. And I was scared shitless.

Every time I have done something in my life, I have over obsessed about it, pushed myself to become the best at whatever I was doing and then quit. Besides graduating from college, I’ve never finished anything in the last decade.

And that is why I’m so fucking afraid.

I’m afraid that I will end up repeating my mistakes and once again give up on life.

A friend of mine has given me a position in his company. He has helped me so much during the last year: coaching me, talking with me and just being there when I was really down. Now that I am stable and sober he has given me a chance to start working again. A chance to become self sufficient and move towards the next step in my mental health progress. But I am so damn scared that I will fuck it up.

I don’t know what to do. The last year and a half has been so fucking miserable, so painful and so depressing.  I have been wallowing in self pity for far to long. But I’m afraid I will never be able to break through this dark barrier. Will I be able to overcome my obsessions and my self pity? Fuck I hope so, because I want to live a stable and productive life!

Wow this has been a long post, I haven’t written this much in months. And all though my anxiety is high and I’m really stressed, I’m fucking glad I did this.

Well that is all for now. What do you guys think I could do to help myself overcome my fears? What has been your experience with fear and self pity? How have you overcome your mental roadblocks? Or if you are currently struggling, please comment about it, so that we can all work together to heal and survive.

My goal for this blog is to make it into a community and a safe place for everyone who suffers. I want to invite you to continue commenting and if possible respond to your fellow readers so that we can create a living dialogue, and an internet support group. Your comments and responses have helped me get through my struggles and I want to share that love and support with everyone. 

I hope you are all having wonderful weekend and I look forward to the coming discussions. I am going to push myself to respond to your comments, so that I can overcome my fear of communication and human contact.

Stay strong,

Dave.

My Week is Going Well & That Scares the Shit out of Me :(

Sorry for not posting this week, I’ve been taking a mental break- I had three straight days of therapy (both group and individual) and my mind is tired. And on top of that everything has been going well, which I fucking hate. Even worse, I liked the new group I went to on Tuesday and because of that it messed my entire week up.  For two weeks I had been prepared myself to hate the new group, to fear the fact that the group of new people would make fun of me, and force me to sit in a corner and cower. For two weeks I made myself sick with fear. But when I finally went to the group, I actually enjoyed myself, which sent me into a paranoid/anxiety filled rage (well, I don’t know if it was a rage because it didn’t happen all at once, but something broke in my head). The rest of the week went well too, which caused my mind to further crumble. By Friday I was a mess, I didn’t know what to do. My week went well and I was not prepared for that. It got so bad that I couldn’t do anything, I spent most of the night staring at my blank computer screen, wondering what went wrong.

I’m finally stable again, but now I’m just confused. Why does happiness scare me so much? Is this going to happen to me every time I have a good week? Shit, the last time I ended up in the psych ward, I was having a really good day, I woke up happy, had an enjoyable drive and then fell into an extremely destructive mixed episode that go so bad I had to be escorted by multiple security guards to the hospital. Happiness seems to cause me immense pain and suffering. And every time I’m stable, I try my hardest to fuck things up.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Does anyone else struggle with this? Do any of you guys fear happiness, or try destroy your stability? And if so what have you done to get over the fear/hate of happiness and stability?

Well, that is all I can write at the moment. Hopefully I can post again soon. I know I constantly make this promise, saying that I will post more often and then I don’t for days, but I’m really trying my hardest to change this. It’s all linked to my struggle with motivation, ever time I try to get myself to write (or do any other activity) I get this really horrible feeling that I cannot describe. Further it is compounded by this habit I forced myself into as a kid. When I was in high school, I was a solid student. I would spend hours and hours working on homework, keeping myself dedicated to my studies. However, I started realizing everyone else was playing video games, going to movies, partying or doing other things not related to homework. So, I started to get really jealous and forced myself to stop studying. Unfortunately, this “habit” got worse.

When I was in college I never studied (well I studied a little bit, but most of the knowledge I learned was from taking notes during the lectures) and I wrote most papers the day they were due. You would think I did horribly in college, but you would be wrong. I graduated in three years, with three degrees and honors in one of my degrees. Because of this my “habit” got even worse. It got so bad that any activity, other than watching tv or playing video games, would be considered “homework” in my head and I couldn’t do it.

As a result, every time I want to write, my brain tries to convince me that it is a chore and I should be doing something “fun.” Even though writing is the most exciting, exhilarating, stimulating activity I can do (it gives me a mental high that I cannot explain), I get this horrible feeling every time I try write (or do anything else, like go outside, call someone on the phone etc.)  This problem has gotten so convoluted and powerful that it impacts every part of my life. And I’m fucking frustrated. I know you might think that I’m complaining and that this is a trivial problem attributed to laziness and lack of motivation- but to me it’s not. I really struggle with this.

Well I guess I wasn’t done writing. I just wanted to let you all know what I’m going through and why I’m having such a hard time posting. I’m not depressed anymore, thanks to the lamictal and my anxiety has gone from extremely high to somewhat high. I’m just struggling with psychological problems I’ve had for well over a decade and they are fucking hard to break.

I hope you are all doing well,

Dave.

Fear of the Unknown Has led to my Avoidance of Life

After talking  to a friend tonight, I realized why I have been avoiding numerous  aspects of my life- I’m afraid of going to my new group tomorrow. I know I wrote about this subject last week, however,  I never actually made it to the group.  Unfortunately I succumbed to my anxiety, got myself sick and convinced myself to not go (I had three chances and I  missed all three). However, on Thursday I saw my therapist and he made me promise him I would go to the new group. That was the easy part, in fact I was enthusiastic about going; telling my therapist  I was really looking forward to getting out of my apartment and meeting new people. The enthusiasm did not stop, as I saw my mom later that afternoon and told her I would not miss the group. In fact, when I was finally alone, I convinced myself that everything was going to be ok and that the group would be a great opportunity to push myself towards further stability.

Well, as I realized tonight, I was not ok.

In fact, my life crumbled and instead of talking with someone, I ignored the problem. For the last few days, I have spent at least 10 hours a day in front of my computer. That was 10 straight hours without getting up (well, let me retract that I did get up a few times to use the restroom and make coffee, but besides that I did nothing else), completely losing myself on the internet.  Currently my head is spinning and my eyes hurt from staring at the monitor for so long. I lost so many hours when I could have been doing things I really wanted to (writing, playing video games, going outside, going to a friends house, making myself productive) instead I just sat in-front of the computer reading random articles.

(http://www.wdavidphillips.com/wp-content/uploads/fear1.jpg)

I know this might not seem “destructive,” however, my mind never stopped working during this period. In fact, it would never stop, thoughts would constantly slam around in my head, causing me to become more and more paranoid. My mind was on auto pilot and I could not control it. Sometimes I would just scream because my mind would not stop working. Which is pretty funny, because I worked so hard to release my mind from the seroquel. When I was on the high dose of seroquel I had no thoughts, no feelings, no emotions, I was just blank. But now that I have my brain back, I can’t stand it. My life is just fucked no matter how you look at. To make things worse, the only thing that seemed to contain my brain  (outside of the seroquel) was the illicit drugs that I was addicted too (I’ve been sober for almost 5  months). I can’t start using again, because that would destroy all of my progress, but I can’t control my brain because the meds I’m on don’t work as well as the pain killers. As I said my life is frustrating.

But what makes it worse, is that all of this pain, is due to my fear of going to a new meeting. My life is a mess right now because I am extremely afraid of meeting new people- I’m afraid of what they will say, what they won’t say and how they will look at me, among other fears. The last time I joined a new group it took me almost 4 months to get used to them. I don’t trust anyone because of abuse I have gone through. How can I trust someone else, when I think that they are going to try and destroy me? When I meet someone new, all I can think about is the pain they will cause me, because that is what humans do: hurt other people and take advantage of them. How can I talk with a new person who is most likely going to ruin my life?

This was a really painful post for me to write and I apologize for not using the same tense (and in my opinion this was a really shitty post, well I think all of my writing is shit, because to me I am a completely worthless, pathetic sack of shit. Having been told that some many times, I believe it now, I can’t even look at myself in the mirror due to my disgust-I’ve been struggling with very low-self confidence for quite a few years and it has been really hard to break it).

Sorry for the dark ending, I hope you are all well,

Dave.

I’m Deathly Afraid of New Things- Anxiety Strikes Again!!

Well I didn’t make it to the bipolar/depression support group, because I was too scared to go.  As usual, I forced myself to become a paranoid wreck- talking to myself out loud, muttering random things I caused my brain to spin out control; thoughts and sounds bounced around in my head, which eventually became bits of music that increased in volume and pushed me into a hole of despair, where a voice started talking (I don’t know if that was me thinking or if it was another person in my head)- telling me that if I went to the support group, I would be laughed at, ridiculed, belittled and forced to walk away in shame. The voice told me I could not leave…all I  know is that I was confused, scared and fucking crazy. I was rocking back in forth in my chair, soaked in sweat and all I could think about was throwing up.

I just don’t understand myself; none of this is fucking rational!! I know that if I went to the support group, I would have a good time and most likely learn something new. But my brain just wouldn’t let me go. Every time I have to do something new, I end up making myself extremely paranoid and deeply sick. I don’t know how to break this cycle. The medication doesn’t work, the therapy hasn’t helped and talking with other people just makes the problem worse. I just want to fucking scream!!!! (more after pic)

(http://megancorbett.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/Anxiety.jpeg)

As a result, I have been stuck in this fucking apartment, restrained by my anxiety and paranoia. I really want to get out and meet new people, but my brain just won’t let me. So my connection to the outside world is restricted to my laptop and the internet. In fact I’m a member of few forums, where I constantly talk to new people. Further, through this blog I met a woman who has become a very close and dear friend. Although we live on the opposite sides of US we have been texting on and off the last few years. But I am only able to do this, because I am hided behind my computer and phone.

It’s just not fucking rational.

I never used to be like this. In fact, when I was in high school I was extremely gregarious. I didn’t have many close friends, but I had dozens of acquaintances. By my senior year I knew almost everyone in my class (we had over 500 people in our class) as well as a bunch of the underclassmen. Everyday I shook people’s hands, talked with them and constantly met new people.

At that time I loved to talk, especially with strangers. This carried on into my college years and beyond. My first job when I graduated college, was as a union organizer (I worked for UNITE-HERE, the largest hotel union in the country), which required me to be in constant contact with new people.  In fact, I was made into an underground organizer (union salt). I had to integrate myself into a hotel and help the union create a structure that would eventually lead to a strike. Not only was I a union organizer, I was also a night auditor (over night supervisor for the front desk.).

It was at this point my life changed. I became addicted to pain killers and I was constantly abused by my managers. It was both physical and psychological abuse that cause caused deep scars. I still have nightmares of those days.

*I want to pull back a second and apologize for this post becoming a confused mess. I didn’t know how this post was going to go and my life has been so frustrating that I just needed to get this out. Writing is the only way I can understand my problems*

For the next few years, I went from job to job, not knowing what I was going to do with my life.  What made matters worse was that every job I went to, the boss would psychologically abuse me. I was told over and over and over and over again that I worthless. I was told that I could do nothing because I was a piece of shit. I was screamed at, I was made fun of, I was put down, I was degraded and I was destroyed. Unfortunately, abuse seemed to follow me and it got to a point that I began to believe I was worthless. All the self confidence that I had as a kid was destroyed. All the happiness that I enjoyed was taken away. By the time I ended up in the psych ward I was shell of myself. To make matters worse, my manic depression spiraled out of control and my addictions consumed me.

I had no future.

Luckily I was forced to go to the psych ward, because it helped turned my life around. It has been almost a year since I was committed and my depression and mania is under control. I see psychiatrist, a therapist and I go to a sobriety meeting once a week.

But I’m still not “stable.” Because of the abuse, I am still a shell of myself, trapped in this apartment. I hope that I can change; I hope I can overcome these problems and break free of these chains. But at the moment, all I can do is bask in the wondrous glory of anxiety, despair and paranoia. (more post after the pic)

(http://www.studio-international.co.uk/studio-images/munch/Despair_b.jpg)

If you are also chained by anxiety, ptsd, depression, mania, ocd etc I would love to hear your story. If you are able, please share them in the comment section. Your comments are the one thing that keeps me going, reminding me I am not alone in this fucked up journey.

I hope you are all well!

Dave.

Hiya, A Break from the Depression

For the last few days I have tried to write this post. Each time I sit down, I open my blog, click the new post button, create a title and then quit- convincing myself I can’t write and that all I am good at is watching TV and beating myself up.  I have gotten really good at convincing myself I am not good at anything, in fact, I have pretty much given up on all activities and spend most of my time staring at the computer screen, telling myself I am worthless and wishing that I was no longer depressed. This cycle goes on everyday.

and yet here I am, actually writing! I guess there is hope for me.

(manualdeladepresion.blogspot.com)

As I mentioned in one of my previous posts, my psychiatrist put me on lamictal for depression, it seems to be working.  Although I am skeptical, because I  have yet to find a cure for depression, I am happy that the darkness has receded a bit. And I’m slightly sad- as fucked up as this sounds I do miss the depression. I’m so used to being depressed and so scared of being manic, that I miss the darkness.

Sorry for the jumbled post, I’m really tired (I sleep during the day and stay up at night and I haven’t had much sleep the last few days). But, I wanted to make sure I got this post out, in hopes that I can convince myself to write more consistently. I want to thank everyone for the comments, I will be responding to them soon, it just might take me a bit of time. I have read them all, and they all have helped me during this dark time. I want to encourage everyone to participate in the discussions, as you are all an important part of this blog.

How do you deal with depression? What are your depression stories?

I hope you are all doing well,

Dave.

My Life is Ruled by Obsessions and I can’t Stop Them!

Every time I think I have something under control another problem arises. About two weeks ago my psychiatrist put me on lamictal for depression and as a replacement for Seroquel. I had been on Seroquel for over two years and at my peak I was taking 900mg a day. The problem was that the side effects became unbearable. In fact, it got so bad that I lost my short term memory and my motivation. This made it almost impossible to converse with other people because in the middle of speaking I would forget what I was talking about and struggle to remember basic words. During this period I would spend hours doing nothing, staring at my computer screen in a complete daze. This period of  my life lasted for over three months, until I realized that Seroquel was the cause of my problems. When I dropped my dosage, the side effects began to disappear and eventually my short term memory returned. However, another problem arose- depression. By decreasing my  Seroquel, I no longer had the ability to control my depression and as a result, I fell into dark emotional hole.

Fast forward six months and my psychiatrist and I finally found a way to stop the depression: lamictal. As I noted above I have been on lamictal for about two weeks and amazingly it has reduced my depression. I no longer feel the deep dread and mental darkness that had consumed me for the last six months. Instead I am now consumed by extreme anxiety and OCD. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, because every time I cure one problem another one arises and it’s driving me fucking crazy. Everyday I do the exact same thing (more after the picture):

(http://knowocd.wordpress.com/)

I wake up between 5 and 7 pm (I sleep during the day and stay up at night), roll up my blanket, put my chairs away (i’m afraid to sleep in my bedroom, so I sleep on a chair in my living room) and put my blanket in another room. I then make a cup of coffee,  turn on laptop and sit down. I first log into my blog and bemoan the fact that I  no longer  write, I beat myself up for being a waste of space and then close my blog in disgust. Next I search for Kotaku (a video game website) and from there I start reading their articles, which usually sends me to other articles on other sites.  For the next 5-6 hours I read countless articles, journals and papers on a wide range of topics, the only time I leave is to go to the bathroom or make a cup of coffee. I forgot, about 2 hours into my reading, I realize that I have yet to take my pills, so I search for my trileptal (a mood-stabilizing drug that  is also used for anti-convulsion)  and subutex (a generic semi-synthetic opioid used to stop my cravings for pain killers) which is taken sublingual and dissolves in one hour. During that time I am still reading. After six hours of reading and 5 cups of coffee, I realize that I have wasted most of the early evening and I start beating myself up. As I do everyday, I complain to myself that I spend way to much time on the internet when I could be doing other things. This usually goes on for 20 minutes, during which I get dressed to go out and get food.

By this time it’s usually 12:30 or 1 am. There is only one restaurant that is open, Alerto’s Mexican food.  They only take cash, so I have to go to 7-11 to buy a breakfast bar and receive cash back. I then race across the street, enter the drive through and order a burrito, a cheese quesadilla and a torta. I pull up to the window and hand the money to teller making sure I do not make eye contact. I’m to scared to look someone I don’t know in the eyes. Out side of saying thank you, I do not speak to the teller, it is way to scary to make small talk. About 10 minutes later I receive my food, race home, wash my dishes, make another cup of coffee, put out towels in front of my computer, turn on netflix and watch a TV show while eating. When I finish eating, I throw everything away and return to watching my show. When the show ends I have two options, continue watching the show for the rest of the night or play video games. The decision is usually based on how depressed I am- if I’m extremely depressed I watch TV.  This goes on till around 7:30 am, at which time I realize I have to go to be.

This is where the next obsession starts. I turn off my computer.  I then collect all of medication bottles place them in a circle on my desk, in front of my computer. I then go to the bathroom, wipe the grease off my face, complain that I don’t brush my teeth, which then causes me to beat myself up again. After a few minutes, I collect my clothes which are on my floor, go into my bedroom, put on some shorts, exit my bedroom and walk towards my table. I then make sure everything is in its right place. I then go to the oven and make sure every dial is set at off, where the line goes evenly through the word off, because if its not perfect then I am convinced it will  turn on while I’m  asleep and I will suffocate and die. From there, I make sure every object on all of my counters are in the right spot, because if  they are not I’m afraid they will fall and if I have to go to the bathroom I will trip on them, fall, break my neck and die. I then go back into my bedroom and get my blanket. Afterwards I check the window in my bedroom, making sure its in the right place because if it’s not, then someone will break in and slit my throat while I’m sleeping.  I then make my way out of my bedroom and recheck everything I had previously checked, because if I don’t I will die.

From there, I go to my front door, check spend the next 10 minutes checking my door knob,  making sure the door is  really locked, because if it’s  not perfect someone will break in and slit my throat. From there I check my blinds, over and over and over again, making sure they are perfect, because if they are not someone will break in. Finally, I make my way to my chair, fall into it and pass out.

As you can see, all of my obsessions revolve around the fear that someone or something will kill me. Because of that, I do the same exactly thing everyday, in the exact same way.

My life is completely fucked. I’m sorry about the really really long post, but I needed to talk about this, because everything seems to be falling apart. The reason why I was able to motivate myself to post is because I spilled coffee all over my laptop. Its fucking dead, I killed another fucking laptop and I don’t know why I keep doing this.  My life is completely ruled by my obsessions and they won’t stop.

Dave.