Depression, Anxiety, alcoholism and agorophobia. My story.

Terry

Please note that this is a very long read and could be construed as self indulgent. Read at your own peril.


Ok, so I suppose the beginning would be a good place to start.
one of my earliest memories is of developing obsessive compulsive disorder. This happened when I was about 5 years old. I remember tapping my foot off the floor and then having to repeat it 3 time. Everything had to be done in fours. Not a good start to life really.
I was quite gifted as a child. I was reading newspapers at the age of four and when I was six the teachers suggested putting me forward a year in school as they felt I was too advanced for the class I was in. My parents refused this because they felt I would be missing out on the experience of school and would be separated from my friends. This would come back and bite me in the ass a few years later, but I don't blame my parents for that. They were just looking out for what they felt were my best interests.
When I was seven I had began experiencing my first bit of trouble in school. I was always first to finish assignments and was quite liked by my classmates, but I was also outspoken and my teacher did not care for this. One incident that springs to mind is when my next door neighbour, and bestest friend at the time, asked to use the toilet.
The teacher would not let him. My friend pointed out that he had a kidney problem, but the teacher still would not allow him to go. I put my hand up to ask permission to speak, but the teacher ignored me. Then my friend pissed himself.
The teacher began to ridicule him, but I stood up and pointed out that my friend should have been allowed to go to the tolet because of his bad kidneys. The whole class went silent and then the teacher walked down to my seat and punched me in the arm. After school that day a few of my classmates came over and congratulated me on sticking up for my friend. Not typical seven year old behaviour, but mine was not a typical childhood. A visit from my friends parents and my two national champinship boxer cousins ensured that this never happened again.
Now things are about to turn to crap.
I had spent the night next door in my friends house and the following morning there was a knock at the door. It was the parish priest (who had called all children from my estate "bastards") and my first class teacher (who I still bore a grudge against for what had happened with my friend and for constantly hitting me.
The incident wih my friend was the straw that broke that camels back).
They brought me down to the church, sat me down and the teacher then said "Terry, I want you to say a prayer for your mother, because she died last night".
Now this came as quite a shock to me. I had visited my mother in the hospital the previous week and she didn't recognise me, but I had no idea she was so sick. After all, I was only seven years old. To be told by someone who was regarded as the enemy was another kick in the nuts.
After about 10 or 15 minutes of me bawling my eyes out in the church, my cousin Anne came and took me to her house (just around the corner from my own). I was to stay there that night and ended up not leaving for 14 years.
I can't really remember the specifics behind me not leaving, but my cousins tell me that I refused point blank to go back to 'the house where my ma used to live'.
I hated living with my cousins because of their father.
He was a complete prick. I was brought up by a loving father and mother and now I was in a house with the worlds greatest asshole, my cousins, who were in their late teens/ early 20's and had no interest in a seven year old who was constantly crying and my auntie Josie, who became my second mother, wonderful person that she was.
A couple of years passed and I decided that I was ready to go back home, but I had left it too long. My father had developed a drink problem and was not fit to look after me. He would get up at 6 every mornig for work and head straight to the pub afterwards.
I couldn't blame him really. He was 50 years old at this stage and had lost the one woman he loved. It was easy for him to leave it to Josie to bring me up.
It was around this time that I had my first panic attack. I was watching tv with my cousins and started to think that my skull was going to burst out of my head. I remember lying on the floor with sweat dripping from me and being convinced that at any second my head would explode. I was eventually calmed down by my aunt.
Life was fairly tense in that house. My uncle was a mean drunk who would regularly beat his own kids. Everything had to be done his way.
This was a complete change for me, as my own parents both worked, whoever had the free time paid the bills and I was well cared for. Actually, I was spoiled rotten. I was an only child and my mother had suffered 2 miscarraiges, one still bitrh and the death of a daughter after 4 week, all before I was born. I was their little miracle.
Every night was spent waiting for my uncle to come home from the pub. His arrival would be signalled by the lights of his car coming into the driveway. The volume on the tv was lowered and I was sent to bed. I would sometimes get back up to use the toilet and no sooner would I be in there and he would be banging on the door, demaning that I come out so that he could go. I lived in fear of this man.
My schoolwork began to suffer at this stage. I was still top of my class, but I began to act out more frequently. The teacher tried to talk to me, but I was unreceptive to them.
The memory of being informed of my mothers death by a teacher I had despised was still fresh in my head and I developed a dislike of all authourity figures as a result. Gradually I became bored with school and began to pull sickies. I became more and more of a disruption and there was nobody to put me in line. My aunt was a big softie and my father was still on the piss.
Fast forward a few years. I'm 12 years old and my aunt gets sick.
I knew she was going to die, and 5 years a one week after my mothers death, my second mother died.
I started secondary school that september, but had lost all interest in life. I was extremely depressed, but I didn't tell anyone.
I floated effortlessly through first and second year. I was one of those kids who everything came easy to. Maths, english, geography. You name it, I was pulling A's out of my ass. I was everyone's friend from the GAA heads to the goths to the nerds, and this is how I managed to get away with being disruptive. Deep inside though, I wanted to kill myself.. I made another attempt to move back with my father, but he had now moved out of the house (much to my surprise) and moved in with a woman across the road. He was renting the house out to a local barman and his girlfriend and their kids.
Third year started with a bang. I had watched the exorcist just before going back to school. It was still banned back then, but my cousin's husband had a copy. I wrote lines from it all over the cover of my Irish homework copy ('let jesus fúck you' and the like).
The teacher completely freaked out when she saw it. I was given detention and told to cover my copy during that detention. I didn't bother showing up for detention and when I came into school the next day, I was suspended for 2 weeks. All my antics had finally caught up on me and it was time to pay for them.
At this stage I had discovered the joy of drink and weed. Every weekend was spent in a drunken haze. Now I really didn't care for anything at all. Just bring on the weekend, I'll get hammered and stoned, puke my ring up somewhere and spend the rest of the week bunking off school and being miserable.
After christmas holidys from third year, I returned to school. The principal brought me into one of the prefabs and bluntly asked me what I was doing in the school. "didn't you know you had been expelled?" No I fúcking didn't.
I started crying as the principal rang other schools to see if they would accept me. This was the first time in my life that I actually looked at myself and thought 'what am I going to do now? my life is ruined. I'll never get a job'.
That evening I went up to the railway bridge and pondered throwing myself off. The only thing that kept me going was my unexplainable optimism.
I was allowed back to the school to sit my inter cert that June and was told that I would be accepted into another school on the condition that I passed my exams. I got 2 A's a B and 3 D's. I started afresh that september and then just dropped out after 5 months. I hated my new school. I didn't fit in anywhere.
I had gone from being the most popular person in the school ( I was cheered by the entire school when I walked back in for my woodwork practical exam, which was a month or so before the rest of the inter.), to being the new kid who nobody would talk to. T
his depressed me even further.
So I'm 16 years old with no real prospects. Onto the road of millions of Irish people before me. It was site work for me. In my teen arrogance, I felt that site work was below me. After all, I was the golden child. I was going to go to college and become whatever I wanted.
How the fúck did I end up on a building site. As a tea boy no less. For £1.64 an hour (union rates). Screw it. I'm getting drunk. And stoned. And drunk again. Needless to say, that job didn't last long. I got about 6 months out of it. I went from job to job after that, lasting an average of 2 weeks. I was running out of places to work. Also, why is my heart beating so fast? What's the deal with that. I haven't been running. All I did was bend down to pick up a pen. Why am I sweating like this? Damn. this isn't good. Oh, ok. It's back to normal now. My first heart palpatation.
So I'm in the sitting room one saturday evening when I was 17. I was watching TNG and eating a packet of king. My prick of an uncle was sitting on the other side of the room, so I couldn't make crunching sounds with the crisps.
All of a sudden I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I put in down to indigestion, took a rennie and headed over to my friend Mick's house. I told his mother about this pain in my chest that wouldn't go away. She gave me an aspirin. Myself and Mick headed down to the village, but I was feeling increasingly tense. We stopped at the newsagent in the village. Mick was a chatty guy and would go in and talk with the owner (he also sold us beer).
I was standing around and getting more and more nervous. I felt like I needed to go to the toilet and asked the owner if I could use the shop toilet. After five minutes of trying to go, Mick knocked on the door and asked if I was ok.I told him that I wasn't and that I felt like I was having a heart attack. I got him to ring an ambulance.
The shop owner got me a chair and sat me outside the shop to get some fresh air. Then a gang of friends arrived and asked what was wrong with me. I told them and they pissed themselves laughing. That didn't do much for my confidence, which had sunk lower and lower over the previous couple of years. I was taken to hospital, given an ECG and told that I had suffered an anxiety attack and that there was nothing to worry about. I spent the night in my cousin's house (most of them had moved out and were maried with kids by this time). I was still extremely anxious and reluctantly went home the next day.
I didn't leave the house until two of my friends called over the next Saturday because they were worried about me. They noticed my absence from the usual Friday night session and were wondering what had happened the previous friday night. I very reluctantly went for a walk with them, just around our usual haunts. A
fter about 15 minutes I had to go home. I was completely convinced that any physical activity was going to result in a heart attack. This is where the OCD comes back into play.

I avoided anything that I had done the night of my first panic attack. Rennie, Aspirin and King crisps went out the window, as did the village. Over the next few months, anytime I went anywhere, I would get flases of that first big panic attack.
Those place then became no-go areas. When I turned 18, I signed on the dole, but had to travel to another town to do that because they dealt with all the surrounding towns. I would stand in the queue with 50 others and the sweat would be pouring out of me in mid-February.
It got to the stage that I could no longer face the dole office and I eventaully had my dole cut off. I was then a prisoner in my own home.
For the next two years, I stayed pretty much locked away from the rest of the world. I became more and more paranoid about every single thing. I wouldn't talk to anyone and would only leave the house at 10am every morning to get cigarettes that my (now sober-ish) father paid for.
I would walk the 200 yerds to the shop, shakily hand over my money and then sprint home. My hands were shaking by the time I got to the front door and it would often take 5 or 6 attempts to get the key in the door. I would then run up the stairs to the safety of my bedroom. the rest of the time I just sat in my bedroom and just listened to music and played nintendo to keep my mind occupied. I would sometimes write about my life and what I planned to do, only to ball up the paper in frustration at not being able to leave the house without getting dizzy and sweating profusely. Occasionly a friend would call over with a few cans and we would sit and talk. With the beer in me, I was fine. I didn't panic. Good ol'dutch courage.
The following day would be a nightmare though. I would spend the day sitting on the edge of my bed shaking like a leaf.
One day my cousin June came into my room and saw the state I was in. She freaked out at me and demanded that I immediatly see a doctor. I did and he put me on some sort of anti-depressant (can't remember the name). It only made me worse, so I was reluctant to see him again. June had him call over to the house and he changed my prescription to Seroxat (another anti-depressant). This worked enough to get me 5 miles down the road to see a psychiatrist. He prescribed Xanax on top of my Seroxat and for the next few months, I slowly got back on my feet.
Imoved back with my father when I was 21. He had retired due to ill health at this stage.
We spent the next few months getting to know each other and I learned that my father was one of the nicest, friendliest people ever to walk the earth. We got on great and this helped immensly with my mental health. I put on weight. At my worst I was 9 stone @ 6' 2". I looked like a junkie. I put on 3 or 4 stone over the next few months and my panic attacks, while still lingering, hadn't effect me too much.
I started working part-time for my friend Mick. He paid me a pittance, but I was getting out of the house and doing something. The thing was, I had started to drink more regularly and this began to interfere with my medication.
Around this time, some of my friends were doing "E" every weekend. This was something I had vowed to stay away from due to my palpatations and panic attacks. Then the stories about people's drinks being spiked started to hit the papers. After a few tense months, I relapsed and went back to sitting in my room. I wouldn't let any of my firends in because I feared they were going to spike my food/ drinks with "E".
It was the middle of the summer and they were outside my house playing football, while I was stuck in my room playing nintendo and only eating food from fresh sources. I became so paranoid that I was convinced they were going to break into my house at night just to lace my food with "E".
I started drinking more to give me the courage to leave the house and then more xanax to cope with the hangovers. I went back to the shrink and he suggested I confront my friends about my fears. When I told them, they laughed and told me that they would never spike my drink because they were aware of my condition and they wouldn't put me through anything like that on purpose. Some of them had seen me having a palpatation one day and told the others how frightened I looked.
They reassured me and I went back to work after a few weeks and gradually came around with the help of my friends.
When I turned 23, I started an adult education course. I was still working part-time for Mick and we worked a schedule around my classes. Again though, the drink messed me up. I had too much money, too many friends and too little will power. Some of my friends were on shift work or in college at the time, so there was alwaysa someone looking for a diriking buddy and I was always willing to be that person. Mick fired me because he knew I had too much money and that I would only end up cabbaged in my room again. I missed out on most of the classes on my course and did end up cabbaged in my room again. I was slowly learning though.
I started the course again the following year and Mick re-hired me on the condition that I would limit my drinking to saturday and sunday nights. I did and had a fairly panic free 2 years, even landing myself a place in Carlow IT on an IT course (ended up getting it too late and I couldn't afford to take it). However, I was taking an ever increasing amount of xanax. I tried to keep it in check, but it got the better of me and my GP (Dr. Pill) handed out prescriptions like penny sweets.
I was up and down over the next year or so. I would have good and bad days, but I managed to struggle though. I went between working for Mick to working in a factory and other crappy jobs (although the factory one paid £400 a week with back to work allowance and tax credits. ).
Then the unthinkable happened.
My father, who I had gotten extremely close to, was hit by a motorbike as he crossed the road on his way home from the pub. He spent 5 weeks in intensive care, then had part of his leg removed and on the day I got the courage to travel to beaumount hospital, he went into a come and I had to give the order to pull the plug.
Guess what happened next. Yes, I went drinking. I think the session lasted about 18 months, with 2 or 3 days sober here and there. I was completely self destructive and had reverted to my 15 year old self. I didn't care for anything or anyone. Thanks to the forethought of my parents, I had a roof over my head that was mine. No mortgage to pay, so I didn't have ot worry about bills. I just sat around getting drunk almost every day. Then came the settlement for my fathers estate. Were it not for the intervention of my friends, I would have drank that too. They just took money off me and bought stuff for my house. I was too fúcked from all the drinking I had done to travel across to the shops, let alone go shopping for furniture. After a while I pulled myself out of the funk I had gotten into and went back to working with Mick again. I was still using drink as a crutch though. The xanax were having little or no effect on me at this stage, So i was bringing cans of beer to work with me. Most of the time the same 4 cans would be with me all week. They were there only in case of emergency, but they were still being used as a crutch all the same.
All was well for the next few months. I was getting fairly regular work from both Mick and my other friend, Jerome (who I had convinced Mick to hire many years earlier and who excelled at his job and eventually wen out on his own).
Then last October the shít hit the fan.
All my friends were in Prague on a stag weekend (I couldn't handle going abroad on the piss for an entire weekend. I would have cracked up) and all my family were at a party (which was also too far for me to travel to). I ended up going to a party with some people I barely knew. One of them spiked my drink with an "E". turns out that stuff doesn't agree with me at all. I had the keys to Jerome's house. I woke the next morning completely depressed. More depressed than I had ever been. I took his van and planned to smash into a wall. Of all the ways of killing yourself I had thought of over the years, this seemed to be the one that would be the quickest and have the least effect on anyone else (except for Jerome, but when I first thoght of it, I had my own car). So on my way to find a wall, some dumbass crashes into me. Not being insured to drive Jerome's van and still being slightly under the influence, I decide the best idea would be to give Jerome's name. Turns out the guy knows both me and Jerome, but didn't know which of us was Jerome. I give Jerome's insurance details, drive his van back and get drunk again. The following day I'm woken by an angry call from Prague. The guy had gone to the cops, they rang Jerome and he knew straight away it was me. So still being at rock bottom, I decide that an overdose would be the best way out.
The pharmacist had screwed up[ that months xanax prescriptionand given me 0.5mg instead of 0.25. I took the 40 of them that I had left, a handful of efexor (the anti-depressant I am now taking) and 10 or 15 sleeping pills. Then I waited 20 minutes, called an ambulance (I didn't want to devalue th property by dying in my home. It is willed to my god-child and I wanted it to be sold at maximum price), and was taken to the hospital. The knew it was too late to pump my stomach (as did I, which was why I waited before calling an ambulance). I woke up the next morning stoned to bits and wondering why I wasn't dead. Turns out that 10 years of taking xanax will make you fairly immune to a large dose. I was stoned for 3 days afterwards. (in all honesty, I just felt sorry for myself).
Anyway, the hospital referred me to the mental health centre in Celbridge. They suggested that I attent the day hospital there. I spent the next three weeks going there every day with the thought in my head that if al;l those pills didn't kill me, then I'm not likely to drop dead from anything else. they got me onto a FÁS course and I'm currently on a break from that after going on the piss over christmas. I'm back in a couple of weeks and have sought alcohol councelling. My panic attacks have died down. I have pretty much come to accept that I am the one in control of my life and that my actions dictate what happens to me. I'm still taking xanax, but have cut down. My depression is pretty much gone. I have bad days, but who doesn't? I just know how to deal with them a bit better now. I'm at the stage now where I know the only place i can go is up. I have nohing left to lose, so the future is there for me to make something of my life. I know I will eventuall conquer my demons, but that it will take some time. During that time, I plan to keep educating myself and hope to getmyself a decent job at the end of it.
Thanks for reading. Terry.

Wibbs

T'was a pleasure to read. Especially this bit;

Then I waited 20 minutes, called an ambulance (I didn't want to devalue th property by dying in my home. It is willed to my god-child and I wanted it to be sold at maximum price), and was taken to the hospital.

Fair play. Now that shows understanding, foresight and a good grasp of the Irish property market.:D Though I'm tempted to lambast a mod for the lack of paragraphs(here cometh a ban in after hours methinks....:) )

Flippancy aside, the very best of luck with the rest of your life. It's obvious, at least to me that you're a strong fcker. More than you may think. It seems to have been an "interesting" story so far and you survived it well. It can only get better.

Terry

Wibbs wrote:

T'was a pleasure to read. Especially this bit; Fair play. Now that shows understanding, foresight and a good grasp of the Irish property market.:D Though I'm tempted to lambast a mod for the lack of paragraphs(here cometh a ban in after hours methinks....:) )

Flippancy aside, the very best of luck with the rest of your life. It's obvious, at least to me that you're a strong fcker. More than you may think. It seems to have been an "interesting" story so far and you survived it well. It can only get better.

Screw you, buddy. Did you not read the part about me getting expelled from school. That explains the lack of paragraphs itself.

Serously though, I don't think you'll get banned for that.

A lot of the story is self pity, but I feel better for posting it and if my story can help one person, then I will feel that this thread was worthwhile.
An ego boost, yes. Screw it. I need one.

nesf

Terry wrote:

During that time, I plan to keep educating myself and hope to getmyself a decent job at the end of it.

In my experience, different to yours but unfortunately similar at times (I used leave at 5am to pop to the 24 hour shop for coke and cigarettes though, less chance of meeting people) the most important thing is to find crutches that aren't potentially self-destructive and then over time to wean yourself off them.

The main thing to remember is that not every 'treatment' is for everyone. I know people who've gotten great help from AWARE, personally I tried it and I just found it annoying. It's the same with the self-help books etc. My advice would be to try everything and see what suits you, but don't be disheartened if things don't work.


Oh and missing a dose of efexor is 'fun' isn't it?

Terry

nesf wrote:

In my experience, different to yours but unfortunately similar at times (I used leave at 5am to pop to the 24 hour shop for coke and cigarettes though, less chance of meeting people) the most important thing is to find crutches that aren't potentially self-destructive and then over time to wean yourself off them.

The main thing to remember is that not every 'treatment' is for everyone. I know people who've gotten great help from AWARE, personally I tried it and I just found it annoying. It's the same with the self-help books etc. My advice would be to try everything and see what suits you, but don't be disheartened if things don't work.


Oh and missing a dose of efexor is 'fun' isn't it?

I've tried AWARE, not for me either. Christ, I rang the samaritans when I was 15. They thought I was taking the piss. I didn't have enough change to stay on the phone and convince them I was serious. (payphone back then. No mobiles for us, kids).
At the moment, I'm just saying 'to hell with it all'. I can overcome this.

As for the efexor, I forgot earlier today. The withdrawal kicked in shortly after i took the capsule (slow relaease for those who don't know). I'm being careful right now.

nesf

Terry wrote:

I've tried AWARE, not for me either.
At the moment, I'm just saying 'to hell with it all'. I can overcome this.

You can, it's just a long and slow process, unfortunately.

Terry wrote:

As for the efexor, I forgot earlier today. The withdrawal kicked in shortly after i took the capsule (slow relaease for those who don't know). I'm being careful right now.

Yeah, it's a bitch. I remember this one time I arrived up in Dublin with a few mates and forgot to bring any with me. Went drinking and forgot to get any. After 2 days without it I wasn't quite sure where I was or what balance meant, a friend had to lead me to a pharmacy so they I could get some. Man, I ****ing hated being on that drug (mostly because of other side effects that had more to do with misdiagnosis than the drug itself, high BP and 110 pulse at rest are not good things). What I'm presently on (Trileptal) is good, but if I forget to take it before bed I wake up groggy, depressed and agitated. Not nice when you've things to do and people to meet and I can't take a dose until before bed because of it's tendency to sedate me (though I'm not complaining about that, being able to sleep on a semi-regular basis is nice).

tbh

thanks a lot for posting Terry. It's a hard story to read, but it's worth the reading - you're an inspiration, and I don't use that term lightly. I hope you felt the process of writing your story helped you - it certainly helped me.

Trinity

Thanks for posting that Terry. I had been on the look out for it since you said you would post it

Um, not sure what to say, i know you dont want pity. But i do think you really did have an unfortunate start. I'm really sorry about your parents, you must have felt really alone at that tender age. My son is almost 7 now and part of my panic is down to be terrified of anything happening to him but more of anything happening to me and him being left orphaned. i know no-one could ever love him or understand him the way i do and i dont want him feeling alone and unloved, even though he'd have my own mum.

Can relate to some of what you said. I was fairly bright in school, not gifted but would be finished my work before everyone else and spent my day daydreaming out the window. They wanted me moved to a different school, my parents refused. They packed me off to a child psychiatrist.

I didnt sleep when i was 8 as i was afraid of not waking up. So have always been a worrier.

Anyway i just wanted to say i admire your fighting spirit. Its terrible being trapped inside your own mind. But at least you didnt give up.

Fwaggle

Hi Terry,

I was thinking about coming in here and posting my story about my problems with OCD and depression, and I decided against it because I'm not really comfortable with it. Then I saw your thread and I thought I would at least make the effort to post and say fair play to you. For the post and for trying to get yourself back together.

I tried to deal with the OCD on my own for 4 years before I got to a point where I thought I would go insane if I didn't get help. Now I'm on anti-depressants and am seeing a psychiatrist. He reckons the OCD is a manifestation of my depression and grief from my fathers death. I have to go through the "grieving process" and also get cognitive therapy. It's a long road but little steps will get me there.

It's not an easy thing to go through but it takes courage to seek help. For a long time I thought that people who needed therapy were weak but now I know how silly that was. It's one of the hardest things to do.

Best of luck to you.

K

Trinity

Fwaggle wrote:

For a long time I thought that people who needed therapy were weak but now I know how silly that was. It's one of the hardest things to do.

Thats exactly how i felt thats why it took 16 years to go see someone. i couldnt fake it anymore. Fake happiness, fake normality and more so fake living.

I wish you luck in your treatment too.

nesf

Fwaggle wrote:

For a long time I thought that people who needed therapy were weak but now I know how silly that was. It's one of the hardest things to do.

It is by far the hardest step to convince yourself that you actually do need to see someone. Or at least, it was for me anyway.

Terry

tbh wrote:

thanks a lot for posting Terry. It's a hard story to read, but it's worth the reading - you're an inspiration, and I don't use that term lightly. I hope you felt the process of writing your story helped you - it certainly helped me.

Posting was something of an uplifting experience, and I'm glad I could help at least one person.


Trinity1, it's a bitch, isn't it?
Have you sought professional help yet?
If not, then I suggest you act immediately.

Fwaggle, I'm happy to see you are getting on well with your OCD.
I still have a touch of it, but it doesn't really bother me anymore, as in, it doesn't normally have an effect on my day to day life. The only time it really bothers me is after drinking. As i explained in my first post, the drink leads to anxiety and I think about all the times I've had panic attacks after drinking. This leads me to avoid leaving the house in case I have a panic attack.
An example being, I'm hungover today and really need to go to the village to pay bills. That's not going to happen though. My own fault for getting drunk last night though.
Cars are also a big problem for me as I've been a passenger in several crashes and any deviation from the normal routes would lead me to have a panic attack.

nesf, fristly, sorry I couldn't cntinue our conversation last night. I cauld barely see the keyboard.
Secondly, efexor never really effected my blood pressure. The problem with depression treatment is that it's not an exact science because everyones brain chemistry differs. You just have to find the anti-depressant that works best for you. I happy to see you have found it.
Mind you, I'm constantly tired, but I suppose it's better than sleepless nights.

Trinity

Terry wrote:

Trinity1, it's a bitch, isn't it?
Have you sought professional help yet?
If not, then I suggest you act immediately.
QUOTE]

Thanks for that! yeah just recently i broke down at the doctors. I was over there every second day with symptoms thinking there was something wrong with me physically. i finally found the connection.

I'm a very logical person, i dont believe anything i am told unless its backed up with fact . So because i was having physical symptoms i just couldnt understand how it could be in my head. It didnt add up. I accepted i was anxious but i couldnt figure out which came first - was i anxious because i felt sick, or was i feeling sick because i was anxious?

But once i accepted it was in my head i did start to feel better. I got the appt with the psychiatrist very quickly but now i have to wait for a behavioural therapist.

I am still quite embarrassed about the whole thing. Even though its here on boards for everyone to see, there are still a number of people in my life will never know about my anxiety. You were lucky i guess to have such supportive friends.

Drinking did me no favours but i could actually handle the hangovers and the reason is when the dry mouth, dizzy spells, shakes and anything else started - i could console myself and say its just a hangover it happens to everyone and i actually felt normal. Silly eh.

Terry

Trinity1 wrote:

I am still quite embarrassed about the whole thing. Even though its here on boards for everyone to see, there are still a number of people in my life will never know about my anxiety. You were lucky i guess to have such supportive friends.

That was one of the main reasons behind starting this thread.
There is still a social stigma attached to mental health issues and that is something that really annoys me. You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is an illness like any other. It's just that the symptoms are not as easliy recognised.
I feel that if that stigma was not there, then the suicide rate in this country would be significantly lower.
Regarding me friends, I'm thankful every day that they are so supportive.
I really am lucky to have them.

Drinking did me no favours but i could actually handle the hangovers and the reason is when the dry mouth, dizzy spells, shakes and anything else started - i could console myself and say its just a hangover it happens to everyone and i actually felt normal. Silly eh.

Nothing silly about that.
It's actually a good way of coping. however, I would suggest avoiding alcohol.
Yeah, I know. Do as I say not as I do. It is important though.


On a related note, has anyone ever had disassociation?
the only way I can describe it is a sort of out of body experience.
You could be just walking down the road and all of a sudden you feel like you are in someone elses body, with no control over it. It's like you are just somewhere else and you start questioning your existence and how you came to be and if you are really here.
I know that's messy,. but it's a really weird and hard to describe experience. It's linked to depression.

Trinity

Terry wrote:

That was one of the main reasons behind starting this thread.
There is still a social stigma attached to mental health issues and that is something that really annoys me. You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is an illness like any other. It's just that the symptoms are not as easliy recognised.
I feel that if that stigma was not there, then the suicide rate in this country would be significantly lower.
Regarding me friends, I'm thankful every day that they are so supportive.
I really am lucky to have them.


Nothing silly about that.
It's actually a good way of coping. however, I would suggest avoiding alcohol.
Yeah, I know. Do as I say not as I do. It is important though.


On a related note, has anyone ever had disassociation?
the only way I can describe it is a sort of out of body experience.
You could be just walking down the road and all of a sudden you feel like you are in someone elses body, with no control over it. It's like you are just somewhere else and you start questioning your existence and how you came to be and if you are really here.
I know that's messy,. but it's a really weird and hard to describe experience. It's linked to depression.

i didnt know it was linked to depression but yeah i get that. Funny thing is when i start to think about how small i am in comparison to the world and all that goes on around me i start to have a panic attack

nesf

Terry wrote:

nesf, fristly, sorry I couldn't cntinue our conversation last night. I cauld barely see the keyboard.

Don't worry about it.

Terry wrote:

Secondly, efexor never really effected my blood pressure. The problem with depression treatment is that it's not an exact science because everyones brain chemistry differs.

Well it's dose dependent afaik. I think it only becomes a problem around the 300mg mark and even then what I was suffering was related to something apart from the drugs. I'll go into detail about it another time but essentially what was happening was the underlying condition wasn't what my psychiatrist thought and efexor would produce these effects when given to someone with the condition that I actually had. Rather than it being a problem with the drug in general. I know that's a bit vague but I don't want to go into depth with what happened at this point in time. (I don't know enough of the details myself tbh!)

Terry

Fair enough, nesf.
I'm on 150mg myself.

Terry

I would just like to add that I am aware that some people may not wish to post here due to feelings of embarassment due to their condition.
You are quite welcome to PM me or contact me via MSN messenger if you would like to talk about anything relating to this topic and wish to remain anonymous.

nothing

Hi Terry,

just thought I'd point you towards a site that I find incredibly helpful

http://buslist.org/phpBB/

Terry

Nice one. Thanks.

shane55

hi Terry,

From what you have said it seems alot of your problems are caused by or at least worsened by drink. Have you tried AA ?

tbh

Terry wrote:

I would just like to add that I am aware that some people may not wish to post here due to feelings of embarassment due to their condition.
You are quite welcome to PM me or contact me via MSN messenger if you would like to talk about anything relating to this topic and wish to remain anonymous.

Anonymous posting is now enabled.

Terry

shane55 wrote:

hi Terry,

From what you have said it seems alot of your problems are caused by or at least worsened by drink. Have you tried AA ?

I don't like the way they operate. (just my personal feeling).
I am awaiting an appointment to see an alcohol councillor.

shane55

Ok, good luck with that. I have suffered from bouts of severe depression in the past. I gave up Drink after the first severe bout. I went to a few AA meetings but thought that it wasnt for me. I stayed off Drink for 2 years on my own. The first year was fine, I was happy with myself for not drinking, my interests and ambitions returned. after 2 years however I started to feel fed up with life again.There was a void left by drink which had to be filled with something. I decided to try AA again and have been going since. AA has given me a contented Life without Drink. It isnt a cure all however and I had 2more bouts of depression since starting to attend AA regularly. After the last bout It was recommended that I remain on anti-depressant medication for life. I decided to do this and I have been fine now for 6 years.

stepbar

Just read your story there and it's a very harrowing one to say the least. Depression is a terrible thing and a lot of people are very ignorant to the effects it can have. My mum gets very depressed and finds it tough to deal with large gatherings of people. Like her, you try hard and you have to be commended for that. Her mum also died when she was young. When I think about it had to had a major effect on her at the time, although it didnt manufest itself until shortly after I was born (i.e bouts of depression and anxiety). I think the best thing you can do it to take one day at a time, if you fall off the wagon, **** it, such is life. Dust yourself down and start again. Hopefully there will come a point where you can keep sober and drug free long term. However dont beat yourself up about it, worst thing you could do.

Terry

The other day I took the first step towards getting back out there.
I made a phone call and next thursday I'm heading to Ballyfermot to talk to a guy about getting onto an IT course run by the rehab group. I should be starting the following monday.
The hardest part was making the phone call, because that meant I would have to make the commitment to follow it through. That's done now and I feel all the better for it.
I have also decided to limit my drinking to friday nights. That leaves me saturday to recover and I'll be able to function on mondays. I've done this before and don't really find it difficult. A lot of the time, I just drink to kill the boredom of sitting in the same room for days on end.

Shane55, I'll probably be on anti-depressants for another few years, but I can see myself overcoming it.
My depression isn't even close to as bad as it used to be and generally just affects me for maybe one day every couple of months.
The only problem there is that I turn to drink on that day and begin the vicious circle all over again.
I just have to get through those days and I should be fine.
I'm glad to see that AA worked for you.
I may give it a go again at some stage. I never really gave it a chance really.


stepbar, like your mother, it took years to hit me.
That's the thing about it. It's an insidious disease and you never know when it will hit you or what will trigger it.

Thanks for the kind words, folks.

thebaz

Good luck in your journey of life -- i gave up drink over a year ago -- and then was hit with bouts of depression and anger -- put on various medications effexor, xanax -- and now have quit them -- life can still be very difficult and challenging -- nearly went back on the xanax this week -- its not like the movies , where the bad boy gives up the booze and everyone lives happily ever after -- life still throws up dodgy cards , whether you drink or not -- for me , a lot of my problems related to a failed marriage and unhappy job -- but like you i struggle on .

tbh

at the risk of sounding patronizing, I'm very proud of you all folks. Everyone of you are fighting your demons with great humility and strength. It's inspiring.


sorry, just had to say that.

nesf

thebaz wrote:

Good luck in your journey of life -- i gave up drink over a year ago -- and then was hit with bouts of depression and anger -- put on various medications effexor, xanax -- and now have quit them -- life can still be very difficult and challenging -- nearly went back on the xanax this week -- its not like the movies , where the bad boy gives up the booze and everyone lives happily ever after -- life still throws up dodgy cards , whether you drink or not -- for me , a lot of my problems related to a failed marriage and unhappy job -- but like you i struggle on .

The best way I've heard of describing it was to compare it to smoking. You're never a non-smoker, you'll always be an ex-smoker. There's a similar kind of thing with mental illness, depression, alcoholism etc. They all leave their mark on you in some way (not always negatively) and you never really go back to "how things were before".

tbh wrote:

at the risk of sounding patronizing, I'm very proud of you all folks. Everyone of you are fighting your demons with great humility and strength. It's inspiring.

At the risk of sounding "crazy"... Honestly, yeah I do find that patronising (though, I'm in no way insulted because I know that you mean it well), but then I'm a bit touchy about this kind of stuff, so maybe I'm being unfair to you reading it that way.*



*The only reason I'm posting this is to indicate something about how we don't always react "rationally" to things rather than bitching at you. The tricky part with this stuff is that even rationally knowing you mean well and being able to read your post in that light, I still feel like you are either treating me as a child and/or laughing at me. I know this sounds odd but I've a feeling that others reading this might get what I'm talking about. Especially the part about how I'd normally never say this for fear of sounding crazy.

Edit: Just to be crystal clear. I don't actually believe that you think/treat me like a child and are laughing at me. That's just my reaction to this kind of thing, I'm doing well atm in that I know that it's not real, the feelings and suspicions don't ever go away though. You can also probably see why in general I don't speak my mind when this happens.

tbh

don't worry nesf, I know exactly what you mean. I went out with a girl with depression, and the hardest thing to get used to was the concept that if she reacted to something I said, it wasn't (always) at me, it was the way she perceived the remark - I used to call it the kailaidescope effect. eg "why are you getting upset because I said I'd see you later? How does that mean I don't care if I don't see you today?"

FWIW, tho, I'm not saying what I'm saying because of the condition being discussed, whether it's diabetes, cancer, depression, alcoholism whatever, I just really respect anyone who just gets on with things, especially when I know people who have nothing wrong with them making all the excuses in the world.

maybe I've opened a whole can of worms. My first banning will be myself

nesf

tbh wrote:

don't worry nesf, I know exactly what you mean. I went out with a girl with depression, and the hardest thing to get used to was the concept that if she reacted to something I said, it wasn't (always) at me, it was the way she perceived the remark - I used to call it the kailaidescope effect. eg "why are you getting upset because I said I'd see you later? How does that mean I don't care if I don't see you today?"

Yup. I don't see and react to the world as you do, or anyone else does. Though, I'm actually convinced that none of us do and that this whole "shared reality" thing is at best a rough approximation (though that's more of a philosophical issue tbh).

tbh wrote:

FWIW, tho, I'm not saying what I'm saying because of the condition being discussed, whether it's diabetes, cancer, depression, alcoholism whatever, I just really respect anyone who just gets on with things, especially when I know people who have nothing wrong with them making all the excuses in the world.

maybe I've opened a whole can of worms. My first banning will be myself

The big issue with this stuff is that it's strewn with cans of worms. It is genuinely impossible to completely avoid them all imho since some of them are opposing (by avoiding one you open another).