(no subject)
I had a session with my psychiatrist today. She had prescribed me ADHD meds but I don’t want to take them. I get tired of popping meds. It’s so annoying. I have my allergy meds, birth control meds to manage my endometriosis, and my prozac for anxiety. It’s a chore remembering to take these meds. To add another one to the list, and in the morning when I wake up, just isn’t convenient for me. I’m not a morning person. My brain takes a while to wake up. I can’t really see or think straight until around 9 or 10 AM. I don’t want to have to remember these bitches while I’m struggling to get my brain adjusted to work so early. The meds are like adderall and supposed to give me clarity and focus, but I decided I don’t really need that. My ADHD serves me well when it comes to work. I’m high-functioning and fast-paced, and I can multi-task like a motherfucker. This makes me a top performer. I can knock out work calls and emails with no problem. BUT the downside is it’s made my ADHD so much worse having to split my focus so much. My brain now needs constant stimulation, otherwise I get really restless. This is negatively affecting my life outside of work, and I told my doctor I want to find ways to manage the ADHD outside of work without medication. She thinks that’s fair and gave me some tools to try until our next visit in another month.
I’m going to do my best to give those suggestions an honest try. Motivation is something I lack nowadays. I feel so blah when I’m not focused on work, I struggle to get any minor task done.
I talked to my dad this evening and he told me he shares some of my symptoms and just never thought much about them being related to anxiety or adhd. We joked a lot about it, but it sucks that we’ve come to this realization so late in life. No one talked about anxiety and adhd when I was growing up. I didn’t even really know or understand what that shit was. I just knew the learning disability kids ended up in “special” classrooms with the Downe Syndrome kids. They were all just lumped together, and that’s very sad. Testing for adhd wasn’t common either. My parents just chalked my struggles to being shy or lazy, or introverted (which they considered strange).
At the end of my session, we discussed what other mental health issues I need to work on, and I brought up grief.
I’ve been hesitant, honestly. I don’t like to talk to people much about my grief. It hurts to hear myself talking about my beloved animals that I lost through illnesses or other tragic circumstances (I looked after the neighborhood kitties both in my hometown and here in my previous apartment). It hurts to talk about my mom. I can write about her. But actually discussing her with someone is painful. I can’t talk to my family all the time about her. I don’t want to burden them. But I know I need to talk to work through my pain and sadness. I don’t want to NOT grieve. It’s part of life. Loss is part of life. Death is part of life. I will forever miss my deceased loved ones. I think about them all the time. But sometimes the grief weighs so heavy on me, I don’t know how to manage. It knocks the wind out of me, and I feel depressed for days…even weeks. I can function enough…but just barely. I basically go into auto-pilot mode and it’s not a fun place to be. Feeling numb, or like a zombie trying to navigate among the living really sucks. I know I have to let myself feel, but it’s easier to park those feelings enough to where I can just get through a day. I’m honestly not sure how to grieve in a way that could be considered healthy. If that even makes sense. I guess what I mean is when I start to feel the sadness overwhelm me to the point where I might fall apart, I go into survival mode…numb myself enough to function like a robot so that I won’t have to feel the painful feelings and possibly have a mental and emotional breakdown.
If I weren’t on prozac, I would be worse off. I was put on this medication because I was at the end of my rope. It’s thanks to these meds that I haven’t lost my shit and checked into a mental hospital.
I hope my doctor can help me manage this grief I still carry around. Every day, I feel it. Whether it’s for a moment, or for hours. I always feel it. Sometimes there are triggers. Sometimes it’s just there, sitting on my shoulders, hanging around as I try to go about my business.
Am I even making sense? I look at the shit I write and am not sure any of it makes sense. I guess it’s only important that it makes sense to me. But someone else reading this must think I’m nuts.
Anyway, I hope this therapy I’m going through will benefit me. I owe it to myself, especially my younger self, to try it.
Geez, just talking to my doctor I could see how nuts I probably sound. I was just yammering on a mile a minute and wondering if she could understand anything I was saying because my thoughts are so all over the place and it’s often hard to put what’s in my mind into words. If anyone could sit inside my mind for even 10 minutes, they would probably be bombarded with noise. Just lots of anxious talking about weird random shit, and various rock bands playing aggressive metal music in the background. Oh, I know. It probably would feel like being in a crowded bar with everyone trying to converse with each other over other loud voices and music coming from the jukebox. And it’s funny because I can’t go to bars or clubs anymore for that very reason. It’s too noisy. And so is my head. All. The. Time. Granted, thanks to meds my thoughts are calmer, and not as worrisome or anxiety-inducing…but they are still running into each other, tripping over each other, making a ruckus. And when I’m exhausted, there’s also a haze of cig/weed smoke and some drunk mumbling. I don’t need to physically visit a crowded bar to get the that experience. 🤦🏻♀️
Damn. It was draining just trying to describe my brain. Pffbbtt. 🙄 I wonder if I could draw it? It’d probably just be a collection of crazy-ass scribbles. In various colors. 🤔