So, I was hopeful that I could try to maintain a somewhat “normal” life by returning to my house on my typical telecommute days and using my sister’s house mainly as a crash pad at night.
But it seems we may be in for long-haul on this, and looking at my home as, well, my home is not healthy for me. It’s not my home anymore. It is a house occupied by someone else that I will eventually get to reclaim as my home.
Instead of visiting my dogs and chickens 2-3 times per week and trying to carry out a productive business day, I will only drop by the house maybe once a week to pick up mail and more clothing. Other than that, I will stay away.
I’ve had to come to this difficult conclusion when I found myself having another panic attack in my therapist’s office. I’ve been working with Dr. L for a long time and I’ve been alarming her greatly in my level of upset around the situation I’m in. She set up a appointment yesterday with a psychiatrist who can prescribe, and now I’ve joined the millions of others in the US who find ourselves medicating our way through the day.
I hate, hate, hate, having to take mind altering drugs like this. I belive that if the situation is so bleeped up that drugs must be taken to get through the day, then it’s time to attend to the situation. Move. Get a new job. Leave the girlfriend making you crazy. Or step back and figure out what YOU are doing to make yourself crazy and change that.
Unfortunately, I can’t attend to this situation myself other than using medication to alter/mask whatever it is in my brain chemistry that triggers the anxiety/panic attacks when confronted with a situation like the one I find myself in. Actually, I’d really like to try that “move” option by getting out of town until this is over. Or going into a hospital and living in an induced coma until this is over. But by then I’d lose my job and be in yet another kind of big trouble when I returned or woke up.
So, I’m now taking my old, old friend klonopin. I first took klonopin about 12 years when I started having panic attacks. Coincidentally, the panic attacks happened right after I agreed to marry Mark. Hmmm….At that time the klonopin was paired with Paxil, too. But I told the psychiatrist that I am dead set against an SSRI (usually referred to as anti-depressants in the vernacular) becuase of their evil side effects.
When taking an SSRI one basically has to choose between one that is “weight positive” (in other words, makes you fat) or has “sexual side effects” (a euphemism for not being able to um…reach fulfillment, if you know what I mean.) I’ve already been battling back the pounds added due to my thyroid issues, and do not want to mess up my progress. Nor do I want to be dead below the waist for next 6 months, minimum.
Klonopin has none of these side effects and can be tapered off much more quickly. The only problems with it is that it makes me sort of sleepy and clumsy. I’m drinking lots of coffee to counteract the doziness, and just being careful to counteract the clumsiness. The good news is that I don’t feel keyed up all the time about the situation. I’m ready to move the rest of my clothing over to my sister’s house this weekend when Mark is out of the house, and continue converting her basement into my boudoir.
Then, it’s just back to waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting, etc.
At least I don’t feel like my head will explode.