The Price of Sanity

I’ve made really not very pleasant discovery last week and that is what it costs to have long-term therapy.

I was seeing therapist for almost a year in my university town and it was great, it helped me a lot and the therapist was amazing. And it was covered by my insurance, which was also great help. Unfortunately, everything ends and so did my therapy, because in June I moved back to my home. So I went to see my psychiatrist here and asked for recommendation of new therapist, because the last one advised me to continue with the sessions. And I learned that I could get insurance payed one, but only short-term, which means about ten sessions and that’s it. If I want long term, I have to pay for it myself and it’s not small amount.

Personally, I think I could afford at least two sessions per month, that’s not the problem. I have the money, so I’m ok. But it got me thinking about the whole big picture. Imagine someone is having really bad depression and/or anxiety and it prevents them from having a regular job and supporting themselves. They are short of money and they are told that they get only ten sessions covered by insurance and if they want or need long-term therapy, they have to pay for it full. Which they can’t, because they can’t have a full-time job, so they don’t have the money to pay for the therapy that could help the get full-time job and get money and so on.

I guess other insurance companies might have better options, but honestly, I don’t believe it much. The one in my college town was probably only covered because it was in a support center for children and young adults. And I don’t know what is the solution, what is the way to get the help and support mentally ill people need. I just know it makes me sad and angry…

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Happy New Year And All That Sh*t

I think this Robot Hugs comics describes my life right now very well.

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Well, the only problem is that my stomach is having a bad time and I’m sick a lot, so no wine for me… Apart from that, too many things are changing and it’s scaring the sh*t out of me. Yesterday I broke down and cried for like half an hour, couldn’t sleep and now I’m tired and generally depressed. I should study, but even the thought of concentrating on that is exhausting, I want to cry, curl up in bed and disappear. When I say I’m terrified of future, it doesn’t come even close to the dread I feel. It’s like knowing that once I finish my studies, whole world will collapse into nothingness and only I see it and nobody believes me. I feel like I’m going closer and closer to this big black hollow that will swallow me whole. And yes, I know I should just think that everything will be good and I’ll make it and I need to grow thicker skin and all that. It’s terrifies me, because everyone seems to know what I should do, but nobody seems to stop and ask what I want to do, what I’d like to do, how would I imagine my future. Everyone just says that I should find a job of any kind, just to have one. Do I want to work in my field? I’m naive, almost nobody works in their field (then why did I even study, mum?). Do I want a job that I would like? I’m naive, almost nobody likes their job. Do I want a job where I would feel good mentally? I’m naive and should grow thicker skin and don’t be so oversensitive.

Guess I’m just totally useless and naive and oversensitive. I just want to scream “shut the f*ck up and leave me alone”! Unless you’re willing to listen to me, just be quiet, I know all your well-meant advice better than you, so just…don’t. Everything in my life is supposed to change next few months, I hate changes and I’m just supposed to be good with it. Thanks, but that’s not how I work. Mostly, I would just love, if someone would just listen… My therapist does and I love her for that, it’s great that at least she doesn’t think I’m impossible spoiled loser or something like that. If someone could just listen, now I feel exhausted, because I need to pretend how happy I am about everything. I’m depressed and nothing makes sense, like why even bother about anything, just hopelessness and sadness and emptiness… and so anxious my skin feels weird, like it doesn’t fit and I need to tear it off, so I’m restless, because I don’t want to self-hurt, but the feeling is driving me crazy, literally.

And with this, I’m supposed to study for finals, celebrate my birthday (yay for me…no), find a job, move back to home-town, redo the flat my bf and I are moving in, then move in, get married and just be this super responsible adult capable of completely changing the entirely life without even a little stress. Yeah, right…

Sort of Confession

Those who know me longer know I drink quite a lot, I know they joke about it, often in front of me. I try to laugh it off, but yeah, they’re right. It’s just that sometimes it’s the only thing that numbs the pain or anxiety. And then there are entire weeks when I pretty much don’t drink at all and I don’t even feel the need to. And then there are days between, when I do pretty ok, yet I still feel like I need some safety blanket, because I can never know when things get bad again and I can’t sleep and I feel like I’ll jump out of my skin and it’s overwhelming. And there is a choice how to cope, I hurt myself or I drink. Or I take a pill to calm down, pill that can very easily be addictive. Not much of a good choices, I know, especially when alcohol can give me one hell of a migraine.

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Don’t Look In the Future…Or Look Too Much

I guess these days I mostly live in a denial, I refuse to look to future, I refuse to talk about it, refuse to think about it. I do talk, when asked, otherwise… I don’t, I can’t, because when I can’t stop and my heads starts spinning from fear.

I have to finish my diploma thesis in two months, I haven’t written much so far, because I was working all summer and didn’t have time. I’m so stressed that I have problems concentrating, I have anxiety attacks pretty much every day and the rest of the time I’m depressed, tired, feeling like it doesn’t matter anyway and remembering everyday chores and responsibilities is getting more and more difficult. I would sleep pretty much all the time, which doesn’t help either. All the time I think I need to work, faster and faster, to finish it in time and it scares me even more. Several times this last week I felt very close to breakdown, like I can’t take the pressure anymore, I don’t care what happens and I just want to sleep and let the rest of the world be. And I worry it will get worse, last time I was finishing school I was cutting severely, I was absolutelly down and I have no idea how I actually managed to do it, because I was in a mist, exhausted, empty, just going through the motion hoping I would make it somehow. Now the pressure is here again, hightened by the fact that I pay for every semester quite a lot of money now. Well, my parents do, which is why the pressure is even worse, I can’t disappoint them and I can’t make them pay one more semester because I’m not able to finish in time.

After finishing the school I have to move back to my home-town… I haven’t lived there for five years, it’s much smaller city than the one I live in now, I don’t have many friends there, not many job opportunities for me… Me and my boyfriend decided to move back there, because it was the practical decision. Well, for me anyway. We can live in the flat his parents own, which would mean saving money on the rent, our families are there to help and all, but I’m still not sure I want it. Or to be precise, I do want it and I don’t. Moving back after several years to smaller town scares me. I like the city, but I also like the one where I’m now. I like that in the big city I have lived for several years, everything is near. And opened till late hours, plenty of shops to choose from when I need something. And my friends are here, or at least most of the ones I have left now. My home-town is… quiet in comparison. And I’m so used to the current place that moving back is scary, everything will change, my life, I won’t be a student, I will be an adult and I’m not sure I know how to be an adult. From what I see, it means lot of stress, unhappiness, exhaustion, worries and not much of anything else. And just thinking about it I feel the rush of anxiety coming in… It doesn’t help much that at some point I’ll have to tell my parents that I won’t live with them before me and my boyfriend move in together. I just can’t, I love them, but I seriously can’t imagine living back at home for several months before he finishes his studies, even few days can be too much sometimes. And also… at times I feel like I wasn’t given a chance to really decide where I want to live, moving back was practical and smart and important for my partner, so I just went with it. And I know it’s good and I’ll probably like it, but at times I feel that my life is not in my hands, that I live in cage where I have to do what’s right, what’s expected of me, what’s appropriate without any room for me to do what I want. And I guess most of my dislike for moving back comes from this feeling, it was the right thing, the smart thing, the thing that everyone expected us to do, the thing I knew my partner wanted and I couldn’t face the pressure I felt.

And I’m getting married next summer, we need to plan it and I’m terrified I’ll somehow screw it up. I’ll be too anxious, too depressed, as fat as I am and looking terrible and disgusting in my dress, my family will have an argument… Or my mum will talk too much to the preparations that I will just give up arguing with her and she’ll make me feel terrible and selfish… She has already said that she should have a voice in any decisions, sice they’ll pay for it. And that If I invited her brother, she wouldn’t come. And she is master of making me feel guilty and ungrateful, although to be fair, my oversized sense of guilt helps her a lot.

And job… what if I don’t find any or am not able to stay in it. So far I got depressed and crushed in any job I’ve had. According to my parents, I’m too demanding, because I actually want a job that gives me some meaning, because I want to be happy and satisfied with what I do. I can work for myself, but that takes time and I don’t want my partner to take care of me while I’m finding myself or something. I don’t want to be his burden.

And then children… pills and pregnancy? Nothing better than withdrawal, depressions together with general hormonal storm of expecting a baby.

And what if we won’t have money, what if we screw up our relationship, what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what ifwhat if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if whatifwhatifwhatifwhatifwhatifwhatifwhatifwhatifwhat ifwhatifwhatifwhatifwhatif………

And just like that my head starts spinning, the fears I keep at bay most of the time just come from everywhere, screaming, making me want to curl up, hide or just disappear, because what is the point of stressful unhappy life. And doesn’t matter that it’s ridiculous and unrealistic and overreacting, that only makes me feel worse, like I’m just a weak coward that cannot just live life like everybody else, because other people are obviousy able to live without problems… The worst part it keeping the fears at bay, ignoring them, because once I let them in, I break. And I can’t afford that, I need to keep going, keep moving, because I have to finish my thesis in time and…here we go again, it’s like a hamster in a wheel…

Out of Sight, Out of Mind. Friendship Dies.

Will it always be like this? I stop seeing someone and somehow any feelings we had for each other just vanish into the air? I’m not sure how many times I can survive this, I feel shredded inside. I always just wanted to belong, to be loved and accepted, but for some reason, every time I thought I had it, I woke up to realize that it was just a dream.

It’s not that I don’t have friends, I have, it’s just… I always wished for a group of people to go out, have fun, spend time and just be a part of something. I kind of lost my best friend, because our ways separated. K., I know you will probably read this and I just want to say that I don’t blame you, even if it sounds like it. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss our talks and laughs about anything and everything, talking about boys, life, problems, supporting each other. I miss it, terribly, and the gap between now is painful. But I don’t blame you or me, I guess that’s just life works… You grow up and lose things dear to you. Or may be I should have tried harder to keep in touch.

I remember I had a group of friends at high school, we went to movies, had parties, but it didn’t work out in the end. Problems emerged, my depressions got worse at the time and they ended up psychologically bullying me. Later, they blamed me, because I was depressed and for that obviously not deserving to be believed. Yeah, my so called friends told my parents about suicidal thoughts I had had year before and used it against me, that it was actually my own fault, the way they behaved, and also that I shouldn’t be believed, because I’m not normal. I guess that’s when I stopped trusting other people, it took me months to persuade my mum that I’m ok. It wasn’t truth, but seeing her so shocked and hurt, I just couldn’t tell her. Unfortunatelly this also prevented me from telling them the truth sooner then last year, I was afraid to hurt them again. And I learned an important lesson about people. When you open up, you get stabbed in the back. Funny that I was good enough for those people to help them with their problems, but when I needed help, they kicked me out of the group. I sometimes wonder, what would happen, if they supported and helped me instead. How different I would be…

I thought university would be different, because that’s were you form your friendships for life, right? Well, yes and no. I made new friendships, but most of them ended, when we graduated. I got together with some classmates pretty early the first year at university and it was great. We went to pubs, talked about school and everything, I thought that this was it, these people were the ones, my group to belong to. It worked pretty great, I guess. Although before graduation, I sometimes felt like a third wheel again, but I thought that I was just stressed out and imagining things. But after getting our bachelor’s degree, they mostly continued in the same program for master’s, but I went to study something else. I’m still in the same town, at the same school and faculty, but since then, they never invited me anywhere. And I know they do things, because I still have them on facebook and I see the photos. Do I blame them? I guess not. Does it hurt anyway? Yes, it does, a lot.

Is this how world works? You stop spending almost every day with someone and the relationship just fades away? Or is it my fault? Am I this weird person, that nobody wants to be around? It cannot be that we just forget people we used to care about, right? It must be my fault, somehow. Otherwise, it seems cruel and lonely to live like this. And don’t worry, I’m not suicidal when I say this, just mentally exhausted, hurt, lonely, lost and… I just cannot understand this. I just want to belong somewhere, to know there are people who care, not feel like I could just leave and barely anybody would notice. Do I just pick wrong people? Or do they somehow feel that I’m different and they just remove me without even thinking about it? Will I always feel this way? Will it always hurt this much or will I grow cold and get used to this? Am I the only one who feels like this? I’m exhausted, confused and abandoned. I guess I wish just too much when I want to belong somewhere, although I thought that it was a simple wish.

Anxiety Level: High

I am at home after almost two months and let’s just say that it is demanding. Not that my family is to be blamed for that, really. I was having anxiety problems since Thursday and no way to deal with it in healthy way, like crying or trying to solve the problems that trigger me. I was at work on Thursday, eleven hours dealing with customers in bookshop, no privacy, just smiles and helpful welcoming attitude. And it got worse yesterday, I faced some mistakes I made, in various areas, I got depressed and anxious, but couldnt deal with it, because I came home and my mum wanted to see me and talk to me…

Don’t get me wrong, my mum has been great these days. She huggs me, makes me feel welcome and loved, she was interested in the wedding rings I liked, my work, how I feel, if I’m ok or my problems got worse… Really, she has been loving so much that I’m almost ashamed for feeling this way. I don’t know what triggered me, I guess many things just appeared, but I just feel ready to explode, full of fear that I’m trying to keep at bay. It didn’t help that one of my facebook friends tried to explain to me, that we are in the third world war and Europe is just blind to see it and that there are some prophecies about doom or what… That was the last thing I need it to get over the line, because after that I needed to medicate myself to gain control again. I still feel afraid and anxious, but at least it’s not so overwhelming.

I need to write a short paper to school and note down some points for my diploma thesis, so that my supervisor can go through it and decide if I can continue in that direction. Because I work almost full time and I still need to finish my studies in autumn, which does not scare me at all, really, absolutely not, why would you think I’m terrified of that…

So that’s my vent for today, I hope it will easy some of the tension in me. I have some other things I want to write about, but I lack energy and ability to concentrate. I thought I would do so much work today, but I guess not.

Marinashutup: What They Don’t Tell You About Depression (and my commentary)

Today I’m going to share two videos made by a youtuber Marinashutup, where she talks about her experience with depression. I agree almost completely with her and I will comment more down after the videos.

The first video is true in the sense that after starting taking antidepressants, you can experience a lot of energy and positive feelings, because your brain is on fire, metaphorically speaking. I know this, because I experienced it too, after taking the pills several weeks, I felt like I was bathing in sunshine and positive feelings every single second. It was great, but it didn’t last forever. Back then my psychiatrist told me that this is normal experience, way to kill my buzz… It is kind of naive, but I like the numbers she mentions, about the number of people affected and treated. It’s scary and sad.

I agree a lot with Marina with what she says in the second video. It is hard to admit to yourself, that you’re not ok. Getting diagnosed and treated is not easy, there is a lot of stigma. I mentioned in my previous post that I waited too long because I was afraid of the label “mentally ill”. And also, because I read about this, of course, but I had never thought it could happen to me. What she calls a relapse in the video, it’s what I call a roller-coaster in my blog. I go up and I go down and it can be really exhausting. In my case, the relapse can take from several hours to several days or weeks. Usually I can spot it, I get too tired, too emotional, too restless and anxious, sad and feel really bad… Really, after years with this disorder, I usually get the message. I can even spot it in my blog, the very bad and sad posts I put here, those are the moments when I relapse. It’s not permanent, I get back eventually, but it is exhausting.

I also like that she stresses the problem of disbelieve. Mental problems tend to be dismissed, especially in teenagers. I wrote a post, which you can find here, when I was really sad and emotional after reading a discussion on a page dealing with mental disorders. I admit, when I read about people dealing with similar issues, I get teary a lot. It hurts me that so many people go through this, nobody deserves this! And saying to them they just made it up? That’s the worst, don’t do that. Somehow, some people think I need to flaunt my disorder to feel special, yeah… It feels really special to know my brain is not working as it should, I feel like a totally¬† special person.

I think Marina makes good points and I admire her courage to share her experience.