You could look at a thing like that as if it's evidence for instability and possible suicide....
I think I'm losing my mind.
It's been happening for a while now--euncontrollable rages sparked by the absolute stupidest, most completely pointless stressors. Christy ran off today when I was trying to give her her medicine. On most days, I'd shrug and just say, "Hell, I'll give it to her when she reappears." Today, however, I tore the house apart and nearly gavce both her and I heartattacks as I overturned the entire damn house trying to catch her. Only three Xanax and banging my forehead off a doorjamb five times managed to break the rage.
This doesn't happen often...but it's happening more and more frequently. And it all began in Fall of 2007 after the Liz debacle. That's when I found myself waking from dreams of blood-drenched butchery to find myself sitting at the wheel of my car, the passenger seat beside me full of hammers, scalpels, syringes, and bottles of liquid weed-killer. Yeah, no kidding.
I immediately contacted my psychiatrist, but he couldn't see me for five months...by which point I was convinced beyond a reasonable doubt that I would've killed somebody. I managed to score some free therapy appointments with a counsellor at a local mental-health wellness center, and that kept me from slaughtering anybody. The anger subsided into an occasional twinge, but nothing major. I figured I'd just been over-reacting and had finally gotten past it all.
But then it started coming back. Randomly. For no reason. Something stupid would happen that would annoy me--not anger me, just give me that "Well, dang it, why couldn't've you use your turn signal?" king of passing annoyance and...BOOM. I'd turn into the Incredible Hulk, ready to smash the person's car off the road, leap out, and beat them senseless in their own vehicle. It doesn't happen often, and so far it's been mostly controlled--with great difficulty, but controlled. After today, though...I don't know.
I've always had a bad temper--but it takes a lot to set it off. A LOT. Anymore, though...the most trifling things have been setting me off, too. Which is very unusual. I thought for a while that it was because I've been feeling ill--which always makes me extremely grumpy and ill-tempered--but this is a lot worse than mere irritability. I am always irascible; this is just fits of rabid blood-thirsty anger that nothing can stop until it burns itself off.
I have an appt. with my psych sometime in February, the closest they could see me. I don't know if somehow I'm taking too much Celexa now (I haven't changed dosage in ten years, but it's possible my metabolism may be changing and that same dose is starting to develop different effects) or if I'm developing some kind of legitimate psychosis, but...From here on out, I'm taking three Xanax everyday when I wake up. The only way I'm going to keep this thing chained is by sedating it so that it simply can't break its bounds.
This must honestly be what lycanthropy feels like: having this bloodthirsty animalistic, atavistic thing inside you whose power you can literally feel waxing and waning (though it seems to be tied to no readily noticeable external/environmental cause), growing to subsume your every thought beneath uncontrollable imperatives to smash, rend, destroy, bleed anything you can get your hands on....It is absolutely nightmarish and I 'm rapidly running out of the strength to fight it. I think I'm legitimately becoming someone I would write about. It scares me to death for the sake of those I care about (all, what, five or six of you). Hopefully, I'll get to see what the hell is going on here.
Something has got to be done before it's too late here. I don't know what's causing this--whether it's something as simple as my meds needing retitrated or some black astrocytoma of terminal hatred blooding like a dark matter nova in my limbic system, or something irreversible like Early Onset Alzheimer's (I also forget everything these days).
It's been happening for a while now--euncontrollable rages sparked by the absolute stupidest, most completely pointless stressors. Christy ran off today when I was trying to give her her medicine. On most days, I'd shrug and just say, "Hell, I'll give it to her when she reappears." Today, however, I tore the house apart and nearly gavce both her and I heartattacks as I overturned the entire damn house trying to catch her. Only three Xanax and banging my forehead off a doorjamb five times managed to break the rage.
This doesn't happen often...but it's happening more and more frequently. And it all began in Fall of 2007 after the Liz debacle. That's when I found myself waking from dreams of blood-drenched butchery to find myself sitting at the wheel of my car, the passenger seat beside me full of hammers, scalpels, syringes, and bottles of liquid weed-killer. Yeah, no kidding.
I immediately contacted my psychiatrist, but he couldn't see me for five months...by which point I was convinced beyond a reasonable doubt that I would've killed somebody. I managed to score some free therapy appointments with a counsellor at a local mental-health wellness center, and that kept me from slaughtering anybody. The anger subsided into an occasional twinge, but nothing major. I figured I'd just been over-reacting and had finally gotten past it all.
But then it started coming back. Randomly. For no reason. Something stupid would happen that would annoy me--not anger me, just give me that "Well, dang it, why couldn't've you use your turn signal?" king of passing annoyance and...BOOM. I'd turn into the Incredible Hulk, ready to smash the person's car off the road, leap out, and beat them senseless in their own vehicle. It doesn't happen often, and so far it's been mostly controlled--with great difficulty, but controlled. After today, though...I don't know.
I've always had a bad temper--but it takes a lot to set it off. A LOT. Anymore, though...the most trifling things have been setting me off, too. Which is very unusual. I thought for a while that it was because I've been feeling ill--which always makes me extremely grumpy and ill-tempered--but this is a lot worse than mere irritability. I am always irascible; this is just fits of rabid blood-thirsty anger that nothing can stop until it burns itself off.
I have an appt. with my psych sometime in February, the closest they could see me. I don't know if somehow I'm taking too much Celexa now (I haven't changed dosage in ten years, but it's possible my metabolism may be changing and that same dose is starting to develop different effects) or if I'm developing some kind of legitimate psychosis, but...From here on out, I'm taking three Xanax everyday when I wake up. The only way I'm going to keep this thing chained is by sedating it so that it simply can't break its bounds.
This must honestly be what lycanthropy feels like: having this bloodthirsty animalistic, atavistic thing inside you whose power you can literally feel waxing and waning (though it seems to be tied to no readily noticeable external/environmental cause), growing to subsume your every thought beneath uncontrollable imperatives to smash, rend, destroy, bleed anything you can get your hands on....It is absolutely nightmarish and I 'm rapidly running out of the strength to fight it. I think I'm legitimately becoming someone I would write about. It scares me to death for the sake of those I care about (all, what, five or six of you). Hopefully, I'll get to see what the hell is going on here.
Something has got to be done before it's too late here. I don't know what's causing this--whether it's something as simple as my meds needing retitrated or some black astrocytoma of terminal hatred blooding like a dark matter nova in my limbic system, or something irreversible like Early Onset Alzheimer's (I also forget everything these days).