Too Bothered…

…By what happened at a local restaurant on Friday.

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My SSRI Story

SSRI stands for Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors.

Simply put: Antidepressants.

joshua-coleman-623113-unsplash.jpgJOSHUA COLEMAN

The last week or two of September were exceptionally cruel to me and even still the withdrawal symptoms linger. I have been strongly against taking these pills ever since I was a child. My childhood Psychologist would constantly mention these as an option to help curb my mood disorders and I was always hesitant and frustrated. I would put up a fight till my eyes were read and tears were streaming down my face.

This was not something I wanted to do. I did not want to partake in taking pharmaceuticals to help me. I didn’t even like taking Tylenol for any generalized pain.

I felt like being alive was bad enough;

I might as well suffer.

Fast forward to now and I still feel like a shell of myself. I’m always worried about the actions of other people and how they create a lasting impression on me. If someone says something rude, I dwell on it. I ask myself repeatedly why they did that and I start to feel unwell about it. I negatively obsess.

My activism, coupled with the horrible emails I receive from companies, corporations and wealth management companies make my mood worsen. I try to focus on the bigger picture and the hopes of creating a positive impact through my own pain and the pain and misunderstanding associated with my peers in the #actuallyautistic community.

I just can’t deal with anything very well.

I have tried three types of pills: Escitalopram (Cipralex/Lexapro), Sertraline (Zoloft) & Venlafaxine (Effexor XR) with absolutely no positive experiences.

The Cipralex left me feeling very hollow, very distracted and very much like I was just dragging myself to do anything – although, out of the three I tried, it worked the best.

The Zoloft didn’t seem to do much at all.

The Effexor XR just made me feel really unwell and my mood was worsened so, I decided to just stop without tapering off. The withdrawal effects were worse than what I expected. Sweats, vomiting, car sickness, the worst nausea I have felt in what seems like forever and a “shaky brain” feeling. There was also a strong need for a whole lot of sleep.

I went to another appointment to my Psychiatrist and it didn’t go particularly well.  He is incredibly dismissive and has me in and out of his office in 5 minutes or less.

He asks me questions completely unrelated to my suffering:

“How are your parents?”, he asked.

“Well, I don’t REALLY talk to my Dad… so.. yeah. My Mom is fine though.. but why didn’t you just increase my dose of Cipralex?”

“Oh, If it wasn’t working at that dose then it’s unlikely it will work at a higher dose.” He then followed that statement up with another unrelated comment.

The sense of defeat and the dark cloud over me seemed to take on more rain at that instant.  It’s apparent, This person, this professional, this DOCTOR who is supposed to help me just wants me out of his office as fast as possible. I like to call them “Fast Food Doctors” because you’re in and you are out very quickly so the Doctor can see more patients and make more money in a shorter amount of time.

My depression and anxiety make my already intense light sensitivity and poor balance much worse. I often feel like I’m going to faint or fall over and my heart starts beating a mile a minute.

What now?

Well, I can’t even work. How am I supposed to get anything done when I just am running out of viable options? I can’t afford to get any kind of mental health assistance where I can talk to a psychologist. That’s not in the cards for me.

 

 

Disclaimer: Please don’t take my article for professional advice. If these medications worked for you then I wholeheartedly commend you on your successful wellness journey. These are my own personal experiences and do not necessarily reflect my readers mental health/wellness plan.

My Story: Part 1

I was born near the end of the 80s. A time of plenty.

My entrance in to the world was a rocky one. I was born with a couple of birth defects and had surgery shortly after I was born. I had another surgery months (or weeks?) later.

I grew up in an upper class neighbourhood (in Vancouver, BC Canada) in a big pink house that wasn’t much older than me with my family being the very first owners. The houses surrounding us were mostly heritage homes, few of which are still standing today.

I attended a religion-based private/community school from Nursery 3 up until the 6th grade. It was horrible and I spent nearly every day crying. I’d start my day with a sense of dread, spend the middle of the day battling with my own self esteem as those around me diminished it any chance they got. I’d come home and have one of my parents ask me how school was or what I did. It was the last thing I wanted to answer and I would get scolded for being evasive.

I then transferred to a private school and the very same problems followed me there. 6th grade and part of the 7th grade. I wanted to vanish, forever. The kids were just as cruel but they didn’t spend 9 years of their lives growing up with me- not that it made any kind of difference.

I transferred schools again, this time it was a multi-modal program with another very high price tag for me to attend (yes, the last two schools definitely cost notable chunks of change). I had made a couple of friends, but I still felt like I wasn’t supposed to be there. I wasn’t sure where I would ever fit in. This time, it was a couple of teachers that I clashed with. Mr. H – he got mad at me through my ’emo’ years for wearing a spiked bracelet. He told me it was banned and that I was NEVER to wear it again. I kept asking why? What was wrong with it? I didn’t get a solid answer. I was very upset. I went to the office and the receptionists were talking about me right behind my back. I called my Mom and within NO TIME at all she came to the school and confronted the teacher. She asked him, point-blank, if he thought it was some kind of “S&M thing” and he wouldn’t say anything! She then confronted the receptionists and they admitted they were talking about me.

I love my Mom so much, she’s always been my #1 and ALWAYS been there for me. She’s my best friend.

The second teacher, Mr. F was the art teacher. He told me once that all my art looked the same and constantly excluded me from events that were meant for everyone. It was a struggle to KNOW that i was purposely left out.

This is Part 1 of my story. If you’re interested in knowing more, please let me know.

Love,

Margaux

Actually Autistic: Rejection and Defeat

I’m a Chewigem Ambassador!

 

Chewigem Products are made for the NEED TO CHEW.

I wish I had these around when I was a kid. I always twirled my hair and chewed on it. I also chewed on my pencils, erasers and my nails.

Their products are not only totally functional but they are very attractive looking. They have a chew chart to showcase the different densities offered to suit different needs.   They are safely made from FDA approved silicone and provide a great anxiety and stim tool, which can be super calming.

I’m excited to be one of their ambassadors as this is something that is incredibly important to me. Products like this help make managing daily life and challenges a bit easier. Having a product like Chewigem on the market fills an important void.

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For more information, please check out:

Keeping busy.

How does one keep exceptionally busy when they are on the road to better self-awareness and purpose?

Well…. There’s a few ways.

  • I’ve been listing items on eBay.
  • I’ve been contemplating new content for my YouTube.
  • I’ve been cleaning. A lot.
  • I have plenty of appointments to go to and my calendar is getting fuller by the day.
  • I’ve been entering contests and forwarding emails.

You may notice none of those things on my short, tiny, pathetic list include hanging out with anyone. That’s because my social life is at a complete standstill. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I can’t seem to properly establish relationships with anyone and the nightmares of my former manager still haunt me. I was tossing and turning all night. That was traumatic.

I’d love to review items for my YouTube account but that’s another thing I seemingly know nothing about and my 58 subscribers is not appealing to any company that would want to use my social network, or lack thereof for any kind of marketing opportunity. It’s frustrating, but the dream is still alive. (well, barely)

My writing style is all over the place. I’m rusty, it’s been at least 10 years since I’ve written anything of value. I used to be so good, if I do say so myself.

Make me useful? Any pertinent endeavours to which you may need my lack of expertise? Hit me up!

Just when you want to forget.

It’s been just about a month since i’ve been let go from my last job. I’ll never ever think that’s a nice or delightful way of firing someone. I don’t think saying “you’re fired” is much better, but when you’re dealing with someone in a vulnerable state, any bad news is going to feel like a thousand pounds of hell.

I do sometimes wish that it was a smoother transition from feeling like I had some kind of stability in my life to then feeling like a worthless sack of shit. What’s the point of mincing words or not swearing? I don’t think I could possibly convey the emotion I felt when I was let down by those I had put a lot of trust and faith in to. I figured our values and our end goals were the same, but as always, it’s about productivity and not mental health. It’s about profits, not people. So many companies pass themselves off as really truly caring about their employees but i’d really like to see companies step up to the plate and care about the mental health of those who slave away all day to keep things in tip-top shape. I can’t believe there isn’t regulation in place. I know, i’ve said it a thousand times, both in the typed word and the spoken word in my passionate youtube video.

I want to cause change, so bad. A lot of the time I truly feel alone, i’m loved. I appreciate that so much.

Sometimes I distract myself, I look at the media kit on ikea’s website just to see what new furniture they are coming out with. I can’t afford any of it, hell, I can’t even afford a nice pair of high waisted jeans which I hold in such high regard in my brain. That shouldn’t be a priority of mine. Food & rent are my priorities. I’ve listed a lot of things on my eBay account and hope that with my continued cross promoting — that I can get it all going on and profit. Even if that profit is honestly just to help me keep afloat.

Weirdest thing happened yesterday. I went to Neil Diamond with my boyfriend. I had won tickets from a local radio station. We got in to our seats, I won GREAT tickets. Not floor seats but we were staring straight at the stage. So good!

Anyways, there was this #tweetcaroline thing, where you could tweet your picture and a caption and it could end up on one of the 2 screens, one on either side of the stage. I did it, so exciting! There was our faces up on the screen for all to see. Yes! I thought this was awesome.

I kept watching the photos. Happy couples, mom’s and their daughters, groups of smiling folks…and there it was. My former manager. The same lady that fired me. She was with her partner and a friend. I couldn’t believe it. I knew it was her. Same twitter handle, same smirking face.

Why can’t I just have a good time and not be reminded of someone who has caused me so much grief and upset? Honestly?

I’m not sure if it was so much a coincidence as it was life trying to bite me in the ass, again.

That feeling.

That foreboding feeling… or is it anxiety? I can’t seem to distinguish which is which. This tightness in my chest just seems to be getting worse. My appetite and self-care are no better. Cocoa Puffs in soy milk and vegan jerky was what was on the menu today. Not the most wholesome of foods, but hell, I can’t even think of cramming food in to my mouth. That’s just not happening!!!

I already felt terrible before that event happened and everything seemed to feel like it was crashing down all around me. I may have felt terrible then, but now I feel infinitely worse. Worse than terrible? I can’t even find a word that begins to convey how i’m feeling.

I finally showered. That alone makes me feel like a gold star would be suitable but clearly, I don’t deserve awards or any kind of accolades. Ceasing to exist is just one of my many conundrums in life. I can’t even fathom how i’ve made it this far….

Interpersonal relationships? Let’s honestly forget about that for a moment…forget about it?! I can’t forget. I can’t seem to take my mind off of it. This fight is constant and it’s raw, it’s consistent. I have this feeling I just can’t shake and I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I can’t stop replaying the series of events that lead up to my feeling of demise. It just keeps playing over, and over again. Anything that seems to happen against me and not in my favour is on intense, blaring repeat. This dance is SURELY going to be a drag.

I feel like I want to scream, I want to shout out loud. HELP ME. Help me figure this out, help me figure out what I am capable of, because I thought I was capable of SO MUCH MORE and that’s just not true. I want to hide, I want to fade in to oblivion.

Part of me wishes I could just be someone else and have a complete do-over…

This is not the movies, i’m not a star & it’s not happening.

Life’s gotta be sweeter…..

I didn’t do much today. I still feel like there’s a gigantic weight on my shoulders even though I don’t have much in terms of upcoming commitments. Part of me still lacks trust for others, especially with what happened oh-so recently.

Things keep replaying in my mind, over and over, and over again. Why won’t it stop? Why can’t it stop? I wish I wouldn’t have my brain on autopilot, just repeating the bad things that have happened to me. I wish my feelings were taken in to consideration. It’s kind of funny how money really reigns king over the wellbeing of others. It’s true. You probably KNOW it’s true.

I mean, i’ll admit it. I’m cheap. Okay, cheap isn’t the NICEST word to use. Frugal. I’m very, very frugal. I need to be able to justify to myself paying full price for anything. Perhaps this is a way my anxiety and my tendencies to obsess work in my favour in this regard.

I need more ideas for youtube videos. I must start a list and then create, create, create! I am propelled to do more and to not sit here and shut up. I won’t stay quiet…

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Four pieces of art i’ve made recently.

Awake

I’ve been sleeping for over 12 hours a day. I went to bed at midnight and woke up almost at noon. I’m not sure if it’s the medication or just feeling downright miserable. It’s sometimes hard to be completely present. My self-worth has been diminished, slowly, gradually and over a duration of time that’s beyond comprehension. I know, I’m not the easiest person to get along with. I’ll definitely admit that. (It’s not for my lack of trying.)

“Breathe. Inhale, Exhale. Relax.”, An inner voice calls out to me. It’s hard for me to listen. There’s so much inner chatter and I can’t differentiate what’s positive or negative, what worries are real and which ones are fake. Constantly, I’m psyching myself out.

I’ve been twirling my hair and running my fingers through it, constantly. I’ve been picking scabs on my scalp and my face. I’ve been scratching, I’ve been sore, my eyes are dry, i’ve been profusely sweating, i’ve been exhausted. How can I be SO tired without doing anything productive?

It’s all part of this illness. It’s all part of this monster, this control, this sadness, this frustration, this anger, this uncertianty.

I feel like i’m a one person army fighting against this invisible war.

I might feel that way, but what I do know is that i’m not alone.

What’s your story?