Another Day in my Confusing Life

It’s already Tuesday evening and I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on. Ever since I got out of the hospital last year I’ve lost the ability to comprehend time. Days, weeks and months merge together and it’s extremely confusing. But I’m trying to stop myself for loosing “control.” Tonight I’m going to my mental health support group which helps to keep me grounded. Although it’s scary to be around other people, their support and advice helps immensely.  After the group we always go to dinner and continue our conversations. I’m still trying to get used to human contact and being around people my age. For most of my life I’ve surrounded myself with people older than me. I was convinced that no one my age would like me because I was worthless and weak (in fact my current best friend is 51). On top of that I was scared of people my age because I couldn’t relate. I don’t like the same things as most young people and I’ve yet to find anyone as obsessed with information/knowledge/research as me (it doesn’t help that most of my friends over the last 7 years had been drug dealers and addicts. In fact, I’ve become so used to being around addicts that I’m still struggling to converse with someone who does not use). Regardless, I have to force myself to go tonight so that I can break out of my shell and try to overcome my social anxiety.

After the dinner I will be working. I have a part-time job, well it’s not exactly a part-time job. The owner, who is also my best friend, understands my mental health struggles and allows me to come in when I want to.  However, due to the leniency I’ve been lazy the last few months and not worked. Because of this of have not been helping my parents with money and bills. But, I’m finally going to push myself and start working as I need to get out of my apartment and help my parents out.

This is going to be a short post today because I’m struggling to write. Everything I’ve written seems horrible and I’m still struggling with past/present tense (something I’ve I had a hard time with since middle school, so I apologize about the horrible nature of this post and the fact that the tenses make no sense).

I hope you are all well and I look forward to hearing from you. Also, I wondering if you guys have any ideas/suggestions/topics you would like me to write about in my next post. I want to try something different and have my readers decide the topic. So please, comment and tell me what you are interested in and why. Also, I want to encourage my readers to actively participate in the comment section, as I believe discussion and debate is a great way to build up this community.

Stay strong,

Dave.

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.

Progression: I’m Slowly Moving Forward

This is definitely a first for me, two posts in two+ days, maybe I really am changing (I hope so, because I really hate my life right now; restricted by my anxiety and paranoia, never being able to go outside because I’m afraid of everyone and everything and not being able to write due to my fear of running out of things to say) and progressing towards stability. Last week I made myself extremely sick so I didn’t have to go to my new group. It was horrible: I was vomiting, shaking and my whole body hurt because I was afraid to be around “new” people. But this week is different (in fact after I finish this post I will be leaving my apartment to go to the new group, so this post will  be somewhat brief). I’m not sick, in fact I’m kind of excited to go because I can finally get out of this damn prison.

However,

my anxiety is skyrocketing, my palms are sweaty, and the voice in my head is screaming at me not to leave! But I have to go! I have to get out of here, I have to break free from my fear of progression/change. It fucking drives me crazy that I get so scared of other people, that I can’t just walk outside and talk with a stranger. I can’t go to a new place without feeling like I’m going to vomit. Why the fuck am I like this? Why did I have to get abused? Why did I have to become an addict? Why did my life have to become such a fucking shit storm!!!!

When I get really down on myself, those question invade my mind and force me to reminisce about my childhood and high school years. I hate when I do this because it’s counterproductive and causes my emotional state to crumble (that is why I quit using Facebook,  every time I would go on there , memories of high school would flood my mind causing me to become really depressed. It has been about a month since I last logged on).

I have to stop. This post was supposed to be positive- pointing out the fact that I have made progress, but as usual I have beat myself up and complained about how shitty everything has become.  When my life is stable I try my hardest to destroy it because I am so used to depression and chaos. This is a problem I have been working on the last few weeks and as you can see I’ve yet to “fix” it.

Positives:

1. Next week will be six months of sobriety
2. I’m going to a new support group tonight
3. Tomorrow I start a new job

My time is up. Hopefully the group goes well tonight!

Dave.

Ps. Thank you Susan for the amazing phone call, you have given me the strength to face my fears and move towards progression

I’m Sorry About Not Posting

As usual I let my anxiety get the best of me, as well as my obsessions. To be honest, I’ve been spending most of my time at a forum for the show My Little Pony-Friendship is Magic (MLP). An unbelievably awesome cartoon that needs to be seen by everyone. Although it is a children’s show, the production value is amazing and the stories are top notch. The show centers around the idea of friendship and the struggles of six ponies living in Equestria (the world of MLP). The world of Equestria is filled with happiness, as all the ponies work together in harmony. Every time  I watch MLP I’m able to escape the darkness of depression and anxiety, and spend time in a world that is filled with positive energy and thoughts of happiness (which is something my life is devoid of). I furthered my obsession by joining an MLP forum,which has provided me with a way to communicate with other people. Overall, it has been a great experience, one that has provided me with a lot of joy:

However, I realized I’ve completely neglected my blog and I’m really sorry for that. As usual I got caught up in one of my obsessions and forgot about the rest of the world.  In the past I would have quit everything; given up on all of my passions because I was afraid that my obsessions had ruined my life. This time I’m not going to do that, instead I need to figure out a healthy balance between my love of MLP and my blog, so that I don’t completely destroy my life (I know that sounds drastic, but that is exactly what happened the last time. I freaked, quit writing, quit playing video games and essentially quit going outside. I spent all of my time sleeping and watching TV. It took me almost 6  months to pull myself out of that hole. I really don’t want to go through that again).

I need to continue making progress so that I can finally get my life back together.

There is one major positive- in a week I will have six months of sobriety!!! That is my longest period of sobriety in almost eight years. Well that is all I can write at the moment. I don’t know if this post is any good because my anxiety is extremely high, so to me this seems like a wall of jumbled text.

I hope you are all doing 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.