(no subject)
For the past year or so, I've had a self-medicated existence. But now, I've got medication.
You see, a panic attack was what took me to the ER. It was Sunday -- it was the only way to see a doctor, really. So now. I've got a psychiatrist. And ever so slowly, we're going to make my brain normal for once. In my genes (from my father) I have depression, anxiety, and panic dissorder.
Buying a house on Vaucluse Road in the next couple of months here. Getting an excused medical absence from school, and going back either this summer/fall.
I vomitted until even bile was loath to come up, and instead I heaved up a foamy version of the stuff. The nausea shot made me drowsy. The IV in my arm left a bruise (dehydration made this IV necessary) - so my arm is greenish blackish (I bent it for an x-ray and bruised the vein).
Coming out of limbo - in a few months here, I should be alright. Or at least I won't have panic attacks...
I mean. I hate doctors. So since middle school, I've had these problems, and it just now got bad enough for me to see someone. But now I have a doctor - someone to work with - and she's given me Xanex, Zoloft, and Vicodin to work with.
And since, genetically speaking, I'll never be quite right, I think it's good that these drugs can do things for my brain that I'm unable to.
I just let myself go, you know? I mean, it's not like I wasn't aware that I had a problem. For years and years, I didn't admit it, although I'm sure others must have picked up on it...
Point: I'm going to be okay.
And that's a fact.
You see, a panic attack was what took me to the ER. It was Sunday -- it was the only way to see a doctor, really. So now. I've got a psychiatrist. And ever so slowly, we're going to make my brain normal for once. In my genes (from my father) I have depression, anxiety, and panic dissorder.
Buying a house on Vaucluse Road in the next couple of months here. Getting an excused medical absence from school, and going back either this summer/fall.
I vomitted until even bile was loath to come up, and instead I heaved up a foamy version of the stuff. The nausea shot made me drowsy. The IV in my arm left a bruise (dehydration made this IV necessary) - so my arm is greenish blackish (I bent it for an x-ray and bruised the vein).
Coming out of limbo - in a few months here, I should be alright. Or at least I won't have panic attacks...
I mean. I hate doctors. So since middle school, I've had these problems, and it just now got bad enough for me to see someone. But now I have a doctor - someone to work with - and she's given me Xanex, Zoloft, and Vicodin to work with.
And since, genetically speaking, I'll never be quite right, I think it's good that these drugs can do things for my brain that I'm unable to.
I just let myself go, you know? I mean, it's not like I wasn't aware that I had a problem. For years and years, I didn't admit it, although I'm sure others must have picked up on it...
Point: I'm going to be okay.
And that's a fact.