I am relieved.
I really wish I didn't have this panic disorder. I keep trying to fool myself, talk myself into the fact that I don't have this affliction - but truth be told it is here and here to stay. Not on a daily basis, but it's here for a while. It's been almost a full year since panic disorder started. Sigh.
Who would want to have this? Who would want to go through the bullshit month after month. Who would want to have to rely on medication? It's a handicap - that's what it is. Nothing about it is fun, or enjoyable.
I really want to try bio nuero feedback one day when I can get the money to do so. Speaking of money, I am really tired of spending money and time on this. I haven't calculated it all, but I'd say panic disorder has cost me AT least 6 or 7 grand. Not including lost wages from work.
I'd love to spend money on something like....oh well... say a pap smear. Which I haven't had in years.
Anyways paying my doctor is worth it though.
If I were at the city Hospital getting help through them, I'd be put on so many medications. The psychiatrist who interviewed me had a very stern face on during out interview, yet when I told her my goal was to eventually get off of the medication - she could hardly contain a big laugh. She did though, and then she said, " Oh no this is just to begin with, if you stay here for treatment we will be giving you a lot more." In other words thier opinion was that I was somehow "nuts".
Those weren't her words verbatim, but that was the gist.
You know there were pamphlets up in the waiting area at the city hospital about therapy groups dealing on bereavement. That is what I would have love to have participated in. Instead I was grilled with a list on borderline personality disorder. Unbelievable.
Anyways I'll post a followup today or later on this weekend about how my doctors appointment went.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Way too much Atarax for me
I could only take 25 mg of the Atarax last night. I like this but only for sleeping. I would not take this medication on a daily basis or in the day time.
That is enough to make me drop saliva all over myself, pass out, or be a complete zombie.
150 of mg a day would kill me, not literally, but I would not be even able to get out of bed!
LOL!!!!!!!
That is enough to make me drop saliva all over myself, pass out, or be a complete zombie.
150 of mg a day would kill me, not literally, but I would not be even able to get out of bed!
LOL!!!!!!!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
New York City Psychwards and Outpatient clinics can be very dangerous for a single female. Don't ever go alone!!!
I had the best night of sleep I've had in weeks, yet I woke feeling groggy and slow.
I'm still thinking about that man, what I saw, and how even though I might say it didn't that is what helped to provoke my panic attack. Of course it did in my subconscious. Yesterday I've been doing some research and I believe he is what's call a nurse aide.
Thing is nurse's aide "observe" psych patients and are sometimes give input to psychiatrists and patients behavior. Now I know why he was watching me while the psychiatrists and psychologist were having their meeting, and could mosie his way back in to the meeting.
Absolutely disgusting.
The city psych wards and outpatient clinics are just reprehensible.
I can't believe this.
Thank god I had a decent psychiatrist interviewing me.
My god... they could have locked me up if they wanted to. Just like they tried to do to me at Bellvue on December 7. I went to Bellvue when I went trying to seek help at the outpatient clinic back in December when I first came down with full blown panic disorder.
I went up to the outpatient clinic at 8 am. I was seen around 3:30 pm. I spoke to a social worker for about 45 minutes relating to her my problems, and why I was so panicky. A very young = "psychiatrist"came in sat down..literally took one look at me... smiled sarcastically and said ..
"You need detox" - go downstairs.
I was in shock. But I didn't say anything. I went to go pay and found that I was not even charged for my appointment.
I was supposed to go in the early evening to deposit the money for my new apartment. So I had a fair amount of cash in my purse inside a white envelope. About 900 dollars.
I went downstairs to the triage nurse at the E.R. She asked my what my problem was. I told her I had been upstairs all day at the Outpatient Clinic, that I was sent down for "detox". I told her I didn't understand why I needed detox b/c I had only been on the medication for a week. Yet I related that it was the only thing that would help me breath.
When I walked into the psych area it was very frightening. As soon as I got in there. My purse was taken away, I was told to take my shoes and socks off. There were two males in green outfits who were speaking in a very loud tone at me and policeman who told me to sit down.
They took everything out of my purse. Including personal items ( tampons)....etc . Looking at each item.
I was in such a state of shock I didn't know what to do. Inside there was a man who was acting crazy and violent and kept coming up to me. They took him away. I saw through glass doors a man in an orange outfit with handcuffs. The two male nurse aides proceeded to go through my purse and then they found the money.The looked at it.
I don't know where I got the nerve, but I started to get vocal. I said no I am not letting you take my money. Hand it over to me. I said the exact amount that was there ( the money for my deposit). I was very vocal. Very persistent. I got up and got my envelope. The nurse aide handed me the money and had a yellow envelope. He said, " Here count it in front of me, and then put it in this yellow envelope." I refused to do it. I sat back down with my money. I put the envelope with my medical papers.
As time went by I noticed patients were coming in & signing in at the front desk. Then they would sit down beside me. One man signed in, sat down beside me told me he was out of his medication. After about 45 minutes he was seen on the inside part by a psychiatrist behind the glass doors. He then walked right back out. Telling me they weren't able to help him out.
Thankfully there was a lady my age who was there with her mother. Her mother was depressed and wanted to be voluntarily admitted. She was from South America so we started talking. Our conversation was very amicable. I told her afterwords how worried I was about not being able to sign in. She had observed everything since the start. She told me to try again. I stood up asked the policeman and orderly. The policeman mumbled under his breath and moved his body as if he were about to get out of his chair and bolt toward me. " Sit back down! "
It was a very intimidating situation. I said that I wanted to sign in. Everybody else was allowed to, and I asked why weren't they allowing me to sign my name. I was ignored. I had been waiting for two hours already. Everyone else ( including the woman's mother) had singed in.
Now I was really scared. I told the lady sitting next to me if we could exchange emails. She looked scared for me too. I also asked another man sitting there for his email. I wanted witnesses of what was happening to me. I also wanted to nurse aides & policeman to know I was getting witnesses. All the while holding my money and my medical records close to me.
After about three hours. I was called in by a Doctor that I had not seen there previously. He was unkempt & messy. Looked like a homeless man. One side of the bottom of his slacks were inside of his socks. He was slurring and walking around as if he was on something. Even the women next to me looked at me like 'yikes".
I got into the room with him, and told him I wanted to sign in. That the guards or whatever they were not letting me sign in. He looked at me and asked me " Why do you want to sign in?" What I told him point blank b/c everyone else was signing in! I told him why I was here. While talking he dozed off, chin on his hand, and he had saliva rolling out the corner of his mouth . I was like OMG.
He then woke up out of stupor ( or perhaps it was an act to make me nervous - I don't know) and then said "You are talking really fast, you seem nervous... Let me get you something to drink."
I went back out and about 10 minutes later he came outside with a plastic cup and some water in it. The lady next to me told me not to drink it. I took a small sip - and it tasted like salt water with oil. I threw it out.
God must have been somewhere b/c at that moment the same psychiatrist who I had seen a week ago before I went back to Beth Israel for a second time walked by ( I had previously gone to the E.R. at Bellvue not knowing anything about it's outpatient clinic one week before, and was told to by this psychiatrist to go back to Beth Israel). He was very nice when I had met him the previous time. I was relieved to see a familiar face.
I told him that I had been here for hours. That the cop and these "men" won't let me sign in. I told him the exact amount of cash I had with me. I said, "You can ask her ..." pointing to the lady next to me. He looked at me and then the women next to me. She nodded her head in agreement. He told me to come into the interview room.
I told him that I had been at the outpatient clinic all day, and the the Dr. sent me down here. He asked who? I told him her name. He said that she wasn't supposed to do that. He asked me if she gave me any paperwork or follow up ? I told him no. He was like well I'm going to have to talk with her about this. However it is not city policy that the E.R. can not give out the medication I was on. He told me once again, he was sorry, he could not help but that I would have to return to Beth Israel.
After that I walked out and the policeman and those two big men in their green suits didn't SAY A WORD TO ME. I told them I wanted my purse and my belongings back. I still have proof of the event. Although I never signed in, I still have my yellow envelope that the aides or whoever they were gave back to me. They were planning from the beginning to put me in the hospital overnight or whatever - without me EVEN SEEING A DOCTOR! I still have the yellow envelope.
How incredibly dangerous is that. I've been having flashbacks about this all day long.
I never came to terms with this. This was such a scary event. Same thing with the nurse aide with his zipper down and his hands in his pants at the other city hospital.
I was at Bellvue from 8:30 am to 11:30 pm. I tried to go to sleep but was hyperventilating all night that night. The next morning I called up a friend of mine who is an ex detective for the NYPD. I told him what happened. He advised me to NEVER GO TO A CITY HOSPITAL. I was crying, I asked him what I should do? He told me that the best bet was to go back to Beth Israel. So I did.
I'm realizing it's not Beth Israel that was the whole nightmare , but a few bad seeds in the system.
Yikes!
What if I didn't have just panic disorder? Was a schizophrenic, or a woman was really mentally ill and not as quick on her feet as I was. Or if I DIDN'T HAVE ANY WITNESSES! OR if that nice Doctor DID not come by me.
What if I was borderline, and became enraged at those aides and that policeman? I was vocal but polite. What if I has started yelling?
They could have used that against me, injected me with something, and that would have been that. Or if I yelled at the aide the other day when I saw him with his hands down his pants. Whose report would people who didn't know me believe ?
The possibilities are endless. Scary stuff.
One thing is I'm not going to dwell on this anymore. I have a life to live and things to do. Thank god ( again) that have some one to live for. If not I might have committed suicide after all this. Panic disorder can really make one vulnerable to people who don't understand it.
I want my life back and was on the track to getting it back, and I am going to do it. Regardless of scumbags or the trauma created from them.
:)
I'm still thinking about that man, what I saw, and how even though I might say it didn't that is what helped to provoke my panic attack. Of course it did in my subconscious. Yesterday I've been doing some research and I believe he is what's call a nurse aide.
Thing is nurse's aide "observe" psych patients and are sometimes give input to psychiatrists and patients behavior. Now I know why he was watching me while the psychiatrists and psychologist were having their meeting, and could mosie his way back in to the meeting.
Absolutely disgusting.
The city psych wards and outpatient clinics are just reprehensible.
I can't believe this.
Thank god I had a decent psychiatrist interviewing me.
My god... they could have locked me up if they wanted to. Just like they tried to do to me at Bellvue on December 7. I went to Bellvue when I went trying to seek help at the outpatient clinic back in December when I first came down with full blown panic disorder.
I went up to the outpatient clinic at 8 am. I was seen around 3:30 pm. I spoke to a social worker for about 45 minutes relating to her my problems, and why I was so panicky. A very young = "psychiatrist"came in sat down..literally took one look at me... smiled sarcastically and said ..
"You need detox" - go downstairs.
I was in shock. But I didn't say anything. I went to go pay and found that I was not even charged for my appointment.
I was supposed to go in the early evening to deposit the money for my new apartment. So I had a fair amount of cash in my purse inside a white envelope. About 900 dollars.
I went downstairs to the triage nurse at the E.R. She asked my what my problem was. I told her I had been upstairs all day at the Outpatient Clinic, that I was sent down for "detox". I told her I didn't understand why I needed detox b/c I had only been on the medication for a week. Yet I related that it was the only thing that would help me breath.
When I walked into the psych area it was very frightening. As soon as I got in there. My purse was taken away, I was told to take my shoes and socks off. There were two males in green outfits who were speaking in a very loud tone at me and policeman who told me to sit down.
They took everything out of my purse. Including personal items ( tampons)....etc . Looking at each item.
I was in such a state of shock I didn't know what to do. Inside there was a man who was acting crazy and violent and kept coming up to me. They took him away. I saw through glass doors a man in an orange outfit with handcuffs. The two male nurse aides proceeded to go through my purse and then they found the money.The looked at it.
I don't know where I got the nerve, but I started to get vocal. I said no I am not letting you take my money. Hand it over to me. I said the exact amount that was there ( the money for my deposit). I was very vocal. Very persistent. I got up and got my envelope. The nurse aide handed me the money and had a yellow envelope. He said, " Here count it in front of me, and then put it in this yellow envelope." I refused to do it. I sat back down with my money. I put the envelope with my medical papers.
As time went by I noticed patients were coming in & signing in at the front desk. Then they would sit down beside me. One man signed in, sat down beside me told me he was out of his medication. After about 45 minutes he was seen on the inside part by a psychiatrist behind the glass doors. He then walked right back out. Telling me they weren't able to help him out.
Thankfully there was a lady my age who was there with her mother. Her mother was depressed and wanted to be voluntarily admitted. She was from South America so we started talking. Our conversation was very amicable. I told her afterwords how worried I was about not being able to sign in. She had observed everything since the start. She told me to try again. I stood up asked the policeman and orderly. The policeman mumbled under his breath and moved his body as if he were about to get out of his chair and bolt toward me. " Sit back down! "
It was a very intimidating situation. I said that I wanted to sign in. Everybody else was allowed to, and I asked why weren't they allowing me to sign my name. I was ignored. I had been waiting for two hours already. Everyone else ( including the woman's mother) had singed in.
Now I was really scared. I told the lady sitting next to me if we could exchange emails. She looked scared for me too. I also asked another man sitting there for his email. I wanted witnesses of what was happening to me. I also wanted to nurse aides & policeman to know I was getting witnesses. All the while holding my money and my medical records close to me.
After about three hours. I was called in by a Doctor that I had not seen there previously. He was unkempt & messy. Looked like a homeless man. One side of the bottom of his slacks were inside of his socks. He was slurring and walking around as if he was on something. Even the women next to me looked at me like 'yikes".
I got into the room with him, and told him I wanted to sign in. That the guards or whatever they were not letting me sign in. He looked at me and asked me " Why do you want to sign in?" What I told him point blank b/c everyone else was signing in! I told him why I was here. While talking he dozed off, chin on his hand, and he had saliva rolling out the corner of his mouth . I was like OMG.
He then woke up out of stupor ( or perhaps it was an act to make me nervous - I don't know) and then said "You are talking really fast, you seem nervous... Let me get you something to drink."
I went back out and about 10 minutes later he came outside with a plastic cup and some water in it. The lady next to me told me not to drink it. I took a small sip - and it tasted like salt water with oil. I threw it out.
God must have been somewhere b/c at that moment the same psychiatrist who I had seen a week ago before I went back to Beth Israel for a second time walked by ( I had previously gone to the E.R. at Bellvue not knowing anything about it's outpatient clinic one week before, and was told to by this psychiatrist to go back to Beth Israel). He was very nice when I had met him the previous time. I was relieved to see a familiar face.
I told him that I had been here for hours. That the cop and these "men" won't let me sign in. I told him the exact amount of cash I had with me. I said, "You can ask her ..." pointing to the lady next to me. He looked at me and then the women next to me. She nodded her head in agreement. He told me to come into the interview room.
I told him that I had been at the outpatient clinic all day, and the the Dr. sent me down here. He asked who? I told him her name. He said that she wasn't supposed to do that. He asked me if she gave me any paperwork or follow up ? I told him no. He was like well I'm going to have to talk with her about this. However it is not city policy that the E.R. can not give out the medication I was on. He told me once again, he was sorry, he could not help but that I would have to return to Beth Israel.
After that I walked out and the policeman and those two big men in their green suits didn't SAY A WORD TO ME. I told them I wanted my purse and my belongings back. I still have proof of the event. Although I never signed in, I still have my yellow envelope that the aides or whoever they were gave back to me. They were planning from the beginning to put me in the hospital overnight or whatever - without me EVEN SEEING A DOCTOR! I still have the yellow envelope.
How incredibly dangerous is that. I've been having flashbacks about this all day long.
I never came to terms with this. This was such a scary event. Same thing with the nurse aide with his zipper down and his hands in his pants at the other city hospital.
I was at Bellvue from 8:30 am to 11:30 pm. I tried to go to sleep but was hyperventilating all night that night. The next morning I called up a friend of mine who is an ex detective for the NYPD. I told him what happened. He advised me to NEVER GO TO A CITY HOSPITAL. I was crying, I asked him what I should do? He told me that the best bet was to go back to Beth Israel. So I did.
I'm realizing it's not Beth Israel that was the whole nightmare , but a few bad seeds in the system.
Yikes!
What if I didn't have just panic disorder? Was a schizophrenic, or a woman was really mentally ill and not as quick on her feet as I was. Or if I DIDN'T HAVE ANY WITNESSES! OR if that nice Doctor DID not come by me.
What if I was borderline, and became enraged at those aides and that policeman? I was vocal but polite. What if I has started yelling?
They could have used that against me, injected me with something, and that would have been that. Or if I yelled at the aide the other day when I saw him with his hands down his pants. Whose report would people who didn't know me believe ?
The possibilities are endless. Scary stuff.
One thing is I'm not going to dwell on this anymore. I have a life to live and things to do. Thank god ( again) that have some one to live for. If not I might have committed suicide after all this. Panic disorder can really make one vulnerable to people who don't understand it.
I want my life back and was on the track to getting it back, and I am going to do it. Regardless of scumbags or the trauma created from them.
:)
Saturday, October 4, 2008
I was going to clean but I feel sick
I feel terrible. I took my first dose of the new medicine that I was prescribed. I can't think too well. My thoughts are slow, my mouth is dry, my head feels dizzy. I had to lie down in the bed, and stayed there for an hour or two. My head feels so heavy, and I have this weird sensation on the back of my skull. The crappy thing is my heart palpitations/breathing is the same. It's actually harder to breath it's more shallow. I've had full body jerks like when one falls to sleep. I also feel nausea. My god why did I go to that hospital
?
Edit :
I am feeling a little bit better now. I've done some googling and read up on this new medication. Atarax. Yesterday I just briefly read that it was in the same family as Benadryil. I feel calmer now. I don't like the zombie like feeling of this medicine at all though. It's almost similar to the feeling of Klonzopine. Which I really disliked. I couldn't wait to get off of that medicine. My eyes are also dry and my contacts are bothering me.
I forgot to mention in my last post something else. Two of the male patients that were at the outpatient were def looking for medication for the wrong reasons. One of the patients kept asking me what I was prescribed and told me that he had xanax he could sell to me. He said this in Spanish. I was like - WTF????? How can you be saying that out loud? What an idiot. I also was kinda angry at him. It's because of people like him that people with genuine problems have such a hard time getting help. Then again - he has a problem too if he's there doing that.
Then it dawned on me what the average person/ psychiatrist might think about me. I speak so fast, and I mention the deadly word = Colombia. I really dislike the stigma that country has here in the States and around the world. It is such a beautiful country, and well ...I can't blame people but anyways...yesterday for the first time I put two and two together...I am so happy they did a urine test so to avoid anyone jumping to that conclusion.
Oh and the psychiatrist was good. Thank god. I think she prescribed as closely as possible as what she could to what my doctor was giving me.
Unfortunately those stupid silver shoes, and the fact that I am gregarious and out going got me on the train to the BPD diagnosis. Not the doctor I saw, but I noticed every one's eyes psychiatrists and patients alike stared at my shoes. They were so out of place. Urggghhhh today I realized I don't have any winter like shoes at all. I've still been borrowing my son's shoes. And my clothes are still in South Carolina. I haven't picked them up since last November. I am hoping to go down to South Carolina with my son at the end of this month and pick them up.
Anyhow I was given a list of symptoms. I went through the list once or twice and picked out a few of the things that I was feeling, and then she suggested that I should address those that I was feeling my whole life. After reading it once or twice and going through it I immediately recognized the list. In fact it was in the exact same chronological order that I had seen it so many times when I was looking at the Village Voice for Panic and Anxiety treatment. I was like oh no...
I have a really good memory, and it is the same list that Mt. Sinai has one their Borderline Personality add for treating people.
Her questioning did lead me to understand she or other psychiatrists might go that direction. She asked my why I left college my junior and did not finish it. I told her that it was due to financial reasons. My ex stopped paying child support out of the blue. I was working two jobs at the time, was supporting my 4 year old by myself. If I still had friends that I knew when I was younger.
There are so many things that I do not feel comfortable talking about with therapists/psychiatrists that I have just met. There is only so much you can talk about in a short meeting like that. So they get a bare bones idea of who I am.
I don't know what she thinks , but I am pretty sure that I do not have BPD. Not to say I have not portrayed some of those traits in crisis.
I was reading this article about borderlines going into one crisis into another. I gave a lot of thought about that statement.
http://www.mentalhelp.net/poc/view_doc.php?type=doc&id=1020
Which kind of sounds like my life, however my crises have all been acts of nature. Deaths in the family, financial losses, my facial dis figuration which led me to stop my acting career. I look back in life and I do see that things could have gone better if I had planned, and thought things out more thoroughly. That has more to do with my A.D.D. than anything. Or at least I believe that to be the case.
The rage anger thing? I studying Budhism, and well no. Never has been me. I'm very quiet. It takes a real wrong for me to get vocal about something. And when I do it is usually through a producitve way ..like the way I blogged about Jisha Philips. I believe in Karma. When people act out of spite and anger and hurt, I realize there is something wrong with them - not with me. I believe in trying to let go and forgive.
There's just a lot of bad ( excuse my French) sh*t that happened to me, and I am kind of a shell shocked version of who I used to be. I've never had tumultuous interpersonal relationships. Just an abusive ex husband, and a boyfriend who couldn't take no for an answer at ending our relationship. Apart from that I still keep in touch with everyone in my past. Even ex boyfriends.
It seems that BPD is very popular with people in the medical field now a days.
Anyways I am happy to have this medication, even though I don't like the feeling/sensation of it. It does qualm the panic. I was able to enjoy my son's birthday too :)
?
Edit :
I am feeling a little bit better now. I've done some googling and read up on this new medication. Atarax. Yesterday I just briefly read that it was in the same family as Benadryil. I feel calmer now. I don't like the zombie like feeling of this medicine at all though. It's almost similar to the feeling of Klonzopine. Which I really disliked. I couldn't wait to get off of that medicine. My eyes are also dry and my contacts are bothering me.
I forgot to mention in my last post something else. Two of the male patients that were at the outpatient were def looking for medication for the wrong reasons. One of the patients kept asking me what I was prescribed and told me that he had xanax he could sell to me. He said this in Spanish. I was like - WTF????? How can you be saying that out loud? What an idiot. I also was kinda angry at him. It's because of people like him that people with genuine problems have such a hard time getting help. Then again - he has a problem too if he's there doing that.
Then it dawned on me what the average person/ psychiatrist might think about me. I speak so fast, and I mention the deadly word = Colombia. I really dislike the stigma that country has here in the States and around the world. It is such a beautiful country, and well ...I can't blame people but anyways...yesterday for the first time I put two and two together...I am so happy they did a urine test so to avoid anyone jumping to that conclusion.
Oh and the psychiatrist was good. Thank god. I think she prescribed as closely as possible as what she could to what my doctor was giving me.
Unfortunately those stupid silver shoes, and the fact that I am gregarious and out going got me on the train to the BPD diagnosis. Not the doctor I saw, but I noticed every one's eyes psychiatrists and patients alike stared at my shoes. They were so out of place. Urggghhhh today I realized I don't have any winter like shoes at all. I've still been borrowing my son's shoes. And my clothes are still in South Carolina. I haven't picked them up since last November. I am hoping to go down to South Carolina with my son at the end of this month and pick them up.
Anyhow I was given a list of symptoms. I went through the list once or twice and picked out a few of the things that I was feeling, and then she suggested that I should address those that I was feeling my whole life. After reading it once or twice and going through it I immediately recognized the list. In fact it was in the exact same chronological order that I had seen it so many times when I was looking at the Village Voice for Panic and Anxiety treatment. I was like oh no...
I have a really good memory, and it is the same list that Mt. Sinai has one their Borderline Personality add for treating people.
Her questioning did lead me to understand she or other psychiatrists might go that direction. She asked my why I left college my junior and did not finish it. I told her that it was due to financial reasons. My ex stopped paying child support out of the blue. I was working two jobs at the time, was supporting my 4 year old by myself. If I still had friends that I knew when I was younger.
There are so many things that I do not feel comfortable talking about with therapists/psychiatrists that I have just met. There is only so much you can talk about in a short meeting like that. So they get a bare bones idea of who I am.
I don't know what she thinks , but I am pretty sure that I do not have BPD. Not to say I have not portrayed some of those traits in crisis.
I was reading this article about borderlines going into one crisis into another. I gave a lot of thought about that statement.
http://www.mentalhelp.net/poc/view_doc.php?type=doc&id=1020
Which kind of sounds like my life, however my crises have all been acts of nature. Deaths in the family, financial losses, my facial dis figuration which led me to stop my acting career. I look back in life and I do see that things could have gone better if I had planned, and thought things out more thoroughly. That has more to do with my A.D.D. than anything. Or at least I believe that to be the case.
The rage anger thing? I studying Budhism, and well no. Never has been me. I'm very quiet. It takes a real wrong for me to get vocal about something. And when I do it is usually through a producitve way ..like the way I blogged about Jisha Philips. I believe in Karma. When people act out of spite and anger and hurt, I realize there is something wrong with them - not with me. I believe in trying to let go and forgive.
There's just a lot of bad ( excuse my French) sh*t that happened to me, and I am kind of a shell shocked version of who I used to be. I've never had tumultuous interpersonal relationships. Just an abusive ex husband, and a boyfriend who couldn't take no for an answer at ending our relationship. Apart from that I still keep in touch with everyone in my past. Even ex boyfriends.
It seems that BPD is very popular with people in the medical field now a days.
Anyways I am happy to have this medication, even though I don't like the feeling/sensation of it. It does qualm the panic. I was able to enjoy my son's birthday too :)
Big mistake
I had my worst panic attack since February 3 of this year. I had it at all places at a city hospital.
How on earth did I allow current events to land me back at a city Hospital psych ward, I've been thinking about it all night. It was a terrifying hair raising day, however at the same time it was an enlightening experience as well
First a brief update on how I've been doing.
I moved to my new apartment. My son is back up and at school. I have every reason in the world to be happy right now.
Except there have been a few bumps in the road. My medicaid was cut b/c I did not follow through with a child support enforcement appointment some where in Brooklyn.
They moved my case to another office, I have to to three different places in Brooklyn this week, and I don't even know where to start. Also I was not getting my mail at the place I was living in Brooklyn so I wasn't receiving any information or appointments.
I saw my psychiatrist last time at the end of August. I went to go pay for my prescription of Lexapro, and was told my medicaid was closed. So apart from back to school, moving into my new place, soccer tryouts, I've spent a first part of the month in the subways of Brooklyn trying to find out where and why , and what can I do to solve the situation for my public assistance case.
I've had some heath issues on the table as well. On Sept 7 I was sitting at home and my veins started bulging around my feet and my hands. My heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest. I knew this was not panic, nor anything related b/c I felt perfectly OK mentally that is.
I've never had so many palpitations in my heart. I was in bed for four or five hours , and the palpitations did not get any better. I also started to get aches around my chest area.
I made the decision to go to the emergency room. I was told my EKG was not normal for someone my age, and for me not to be alarmed but it was very serious. I've had to wear a holter, had an Eco cardiograph, and I am also getting my thyroid checked. I have partial right bundle branch block, and systolic heart mummer, and I'm waiting for more results.
My son also has a sport injury. He had soccer tryouts and injured his legs. He hadn't played in over a year and during tryouts he pushed himself too hard. So I've been trying to get him help with that.
Since I have been in and out of the Hospital with my son's injury and my heart issues. I walked by the mental health out patient clinic. I thought well gee.... my xanax is almost gone, and this hospital is so close by - wouldn't it be nice if I could get treatment here? Perhaps have psychological therapy as well as psychiatric for my problem. Plus my son's birthday is in a few days.... I could save the money I pay my psychiatrist out of pocket, and use it for his birthday instead.
Part two of this blog is
BIG FRIGGIN MISTAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I woke up at around 8 a.m. and rushed out of my apartment. I was told the earlier one got there the better. I was in such a hurry I put the first pair of shoes on that I could find. A silver pair of slippers. So I had a polo shirt on, jeans, and a silver sandals. I did not realize how ridiculously ostentatious and out of place they looked until I got to the clinic. But I was like "oh well....who cares...
HA!
I'll come back to that subject later. Right now I am about to write about something very serious. It scares the hell out of me that I am actually going to post this, and write about this - but I have to.
As soon as I got passed the waiting area I was brought into another holding area. My urine sample was taken. I sat down and conversed with some of the other patients there. I noticed a man in a green outfit jump at the sight of me. Not jump , but startle. He looked straight at me as if he had seen me before. I choose to ignore him. The look in his eyes was not one of kindness, I can't think of a word to describe it...
About thirty minutes later I was told to go into a room and sit down. I sat in the chair and noticed a man with his back turned to me back inside a closet area. When the man turned around he had his hands in his pants and proceeded to zip them up. I tried to ignore what I just saw yet he kept looking at me. He wanted recognition that I had seen him. I self doubted myself when I first saw it thinking maybe he is just adjusting himself. . .
I thought to myself 'I've seen it all" no way your little show is going to intimidate me or scare me.
A few minutes later the nurse walked in and the same man who I had seen in the closet area with his hands down his pants was putting a thermometer down my throat. I did not even look at him, I purposely kept my attention on the nurse. The nurse who was there kept asking me who referred me .. questions while I had the thermometer in my mouth . The male nurse ( I am not sure he is a nurse) was very rough with my blood pressure check. I still did not give him one iota of attention. Keeping focused on the nurse.
So from there I went back to the waiting area. There were girls there who were very friendly and we started talking about things. Depression, bereavement of loved ones. There was one guy whose behavior was rather odd. I was later told he was sent home without any medication , because they had found cocaine in his system. That's when one girl started up with one worst subjects ever! This triggered my panic attack.
She started saying, in Spanish, "Oh by the way, did you all know that there are people who come here on coke, and then try to get medication here, then go out and sell their medication so they can buy more drugs?"
Jisha Philips' accusation flashed through my mind. I started to remember the nightmare at Beth Israel. That familiar gear shift in my head each time I have had a major panic attack shifted again once again. I was like holy crap, not now.
I got up out of the room and went to the bathroom. I splashed water all over myself. I talked and talked myself out of the panic attack - but this one was about a 9 on of scale of one to ten in severity. I went back down to the waiting area sat down and felt the blood drain out of my arms and legs. I was hyperventilating somewhere even though my breathing seemed to at a perfectly normal pace. I told some of the patients what was wrong with me, and that I was trying to walk it out. I did not want any of the nurses of psychiatrists that were walking by to see me. Last thing I wanted was for the psychiatrists to think I was putting on a show or something.
Then the thoughts started racing what if I were to pass out here? That male nurse. . . OMG I have Jisha Philp's drug selling write up here in my medical files OMG! What if I pass out and they read that OMG! My son is at school...what if I pass out and they lock me up b/c the read Jisha Philp's write up OMG! What if my son comes home and his mom is not there OMG! What will he think...where will he go OMG! ...go throw water on your face..you're passing out... don't let them see you like this... I don't have my cellphone with me ..I need to call my son's school..how will I get in contact with him..what if they think I am borderline medication seller and decide not to assist me...why did you come here..shake your hands shake your legs..try to get sensation back in them...
That was the worst part of the panic attack...it lasted for about 45 minutes. I almost passed out in the chair. I was so proud of myself that I had hid my panic attack. Well I didn't hide it too well. One of the police saw me and followed me to the pay phone where I was trying to call 411 to get information on the whereabouts of my son. I was dripping in water , sweating, so he probably thought the worst. Probably thought I was on drugs or something.
Now back to that male nurse or whatever he was. It hit me where I had seen him before. I am not 100 percent so I will have to check and find out. But if he is ... I will post about it. I might go farther and report it. But I do not know yet so I have to be cautious.
For some reason my son's school is not listed in 411...so I decided to go pick him up. When I got back I was told by some of the patients that my name had already been called. I was seen by a psychologist. The whole time during our interview I was hyperventilating. I was trying to hide the panic attack. My thought were racing in my head yet I still answered her questions. She was stern, but amicable. I related to her things that I have not told anyone in a while. How I was raped when I was 18, and other intimacies.
She told me that city Hospitals have a policy on prescribing xanax. They don't do it. But she said I need to state as clearly as possible what it was I needed. I could tell she was trying to help me out.
Anyways - my interview with the psychiatrist I'll blog about that tomorrow. This post is getting far too long, and I have to go clean. I'm not even going to spell check this post right now/ But before I log off, I would like to mention something that I was thinking about all night ( I couldn't sleep b/c of it).
That male nurse walked himself right into the meeting where the psychiatrists/and psychologists were discussing my case. They were in there for about an hour. I was interviewed and the supervising psychiatrist would go back in there. I can't believe the man that was putting his hands down his pants in front of me was allowed to walk in there like that! Great he knows my name, where I live, and that I've been raped, and has probably listened to a debate on what a nutcase I am. Perfect!
I am not complaining about the hospital or my treatment from the doctors, which actually went well and they were of assistance to me ....but geesh if they only knew who they were allowing to listen in!
I'm still in shock about it.
I went home and immediately and left a message for my private doctor. I told him what a big mistake I had made. I feel so stupid! There were just so many things going on this month and I let time slip up on me. I was also embarrassed to call him at the last minute, and say "hey I've run out of my medication" b/c that would have seemed so irresponsible. I will NEVER make this mistake again. No matter how much I have to pay or who I have to borrow money from.
I will never ever go to a city Hospital again.
I highly recommend any female who is alone- to never go alone to a city hospital.
Always bring someone with you.
How on earth did I allow current events to land me back at a city Hospital psych ward, I've been thinking about it all night. It was a terrifying hair raising day, however at the same time it was an enlightening experience as well
First a brief update on how I've been doing.
I moved to my new apartment. My son is back up and at school. I have every reason in the world to be happy right now.
Except there have been a few bumps in the road. My medicaid was cut b/c I did not follow through with a child support enforcement appointment some where in Brooklyn.
They moved my case to another office, I have to to three different places in Brooklyn this week, and I don't even know where to start. Also I was not getting my mail at the place I was living in Brooklyn so I wasn't receiving any information or appointments.
I saw my psychiatrist last time at the end of August. I went to go pay for my prescription of Lexapro, and was told my medicaid was closed. So apart from back to school, moving into my new place, soccer tryouts, I've spent a first part of the month in the subways of Brooklyn trying to find out where and why , and what can I do to solve the situation for my public assistance case.
I've had some heath issues on the table as well. On Sept 7 I was sitting at home and my veins started bulging around my feet and my hands. My heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest. I knew this was not panic, nor anything related b/c I felt perfectly OK mentally that is.
I've never had so many palpitations in my heart. I was in bed for four or five hours , and the palpitations did not get any better. I also started to get aches around my chest area.
I made the decision to go to the emergency room. I was told my EKG was not normal for someone my age, and for me not to be alarmed but it was very serious. I've had to wear a holter, had an Eco cardiograph, and I am also getting my thyroid checked. I have partial right bundle branch block, and systolic heart mummer, and I'm waiting for more results.
My son also has a sport injury. He had soccer tryouts and injured his legs. He hadn't played in over a year and during tryouts he pushed himself too hard. So I've been trying to get him help with that.
Since I have been in and out of the Hospital with my son's injury and my heart issues. I walked by the mental health out patient clinic. I thought well gee.... my xanax is almost gone, and this hospital is so close by - wouldn't it be nice if I could get treatment here? Perhaps have psychological therapy as well as psychiatric for my problem. Plus my son's birthday is in a few days.... I could save the money I pay my psychiatrist out of pocket, and use it for his birthday instead.
Part two of this blog is
BIG FRIGGIN MISTAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I woke up at around 8 a.m. and rushed out of my apartment. I was told the earlier one got there the better. I was in such a hurry I put the first pair of shoes on that I could find. A silver pair of slippers. So I had a polo shirt on, jeans, and a silver sandals. I did not realize how ridiculously ostentatious and out of place they looked until I got to the clinic. But I was like "oh well....who cares...
HA!
I'll come back to that subject later. Right now I am about to write about something very serious. It scares the hell out of me that I am actually going to post this, and write about this - but I have to.
As soon as I got passed the waiting area I was brought into another holding area. My urine sample was taken. I sat down and conversed with some of the other patients there. I noticed a man in a green outfit jump at the sight of me. Not jump , but startle. He looked straight at me as if he had seen me before. I choose to ignore him. The look in his eyes was not one of kindness, I can't think of a word to describe it...
About thirty minutes later I was told to go into a room and sit down. I sat in the chair and noticed a man with his back turned to me back inside a closet area. When the man turned around he had his hands in his pants and proceeded to zip them up. I tried to ignore what I just saw yet he kept looking at me. He wanted recognition that I had seen him. I self doubted myself when I first saw it thinking maybe he is just adjusting himself. . .
I thought to myself 'I've seen it all" no way your little show is going to intimidate me or scare me.
A few minutes later the nurse walked in and the same man who I had seen in the closet area with his hands down his pants was putting a thermometer down my throat. I did not even look at him, I purposely kept my attention on the nurse. The nurse who was there kept asking me who referred me .. questions while I had the thermometer in my mouth . The male nurse ( I am not sure he is a nurse) was very rough with my blood pressure check. I still did not give him one iota of attention. Keeping focused on the nurse.
So from there I went back to the waiting area. There were girls there who were very friendly and we started talking about things. Depression, bereavement of loved ones. There was one guy whose behavior was rather odd. I was later told he was sent home without any medication , because they had found cocaine in his system. That's when one girl started up with one worst subjects ever! This triggered my panic attack.
She started saying, in Spanish, "Oh by the way, did you all know that there are people who come here on coke, and then try to get medication here, then go out and sell their medication so they can buy more drugs?"
Jisha Philips' accusation flashed through my mind. I started to remember the nightmare at Beth Israel. That familiar gear shift in my head each time I have had a major panic attack shifted again once again. I was like holy crap, not now.
I got up out of the room and went to the bathroom. I splashed water all over myself. I talked and talked myself out of the panic attack - but this one was about a 9 on of scale of one to ten in severity. I went back down to the waiting area sat down and felt the blood drain out of my arms and legs. I was hyperventilating somewhere even though my breathing seemed to at a perfectly normal pace. I told some of the patients what was wrong with me, and that I was trying to walk it out. I did not want any of the nurses of psychiatrists that were walking by to see me. Last thing I wanted was for the psychiatrists to think I was putting on a show or something.
Then the thoughts started racing what if I were to pass out here? That male nurse. . . OMG I have Jisha Philp's drug selling write up here in my medical files OMG! What if I pass out and they read that OMG! My son is at school...what if I pass out and they lock me up b/c the read Jisha Philp's write up OMG! What if my son comes home and his mom is not there OMG! What will he think...where will he go OMG! ...go throw water on your face..you're passing out... don't let them see you like this... I don't have my cellphone with me ..I need to call my son's school..how will I get in contact with him..what if they think I am borderline medication seller and decide not to assist me...why did you come here..shake your hands shake your legs..try to get sensation back in them...
That was the worst part of the panic attack...it lasted for about 45 minutes. I almost passed out in the chair. I was so proud of myself that I had hid my panic attack. Well I didn't hide it too well. One of the police saw me and followed me to the pay phone where I was trying to call 411 to get information on the whereabouts of my son. I was dripping in water , sweating, so he probably thought the worst. Probably thought I was on drugs or something.
Now back to that male nurse or whatever he was. It hit me where I had seen him before. I am not 100 percent so I will have to check and find out. But if he is ... I will post about it. I might go farther and report it. But I do not know yet so I have to be cautious.
For some reason my son's school is not listed in 411...so I decided to go pick him up. When I got back I was told by some of the patients that my name had already been called. I was seen by a psychologist. The whole time during our interview I was hyperventilating. I was trying to hide the panic attack. My thought were racing in my head yet I still answered her questions. She was stern, but amicable. I related to her things that I have not told anyone in a while. How I was raped when I was 18, and other intimacies.
She told me that city Hospitals have a policy on prescribing xanax. They don't do it. But she said I need to state as clearly as possible what it was I needed. I could tell she was trying to help me out.
Anyways - my interview with the psychiatrist I'll blog about that tomorrow. This post is getting far too long, and I have to go clean. I'm not even going to spell check this post right now/ But before I log off, I would like to mention something that I was thinking about all night ( I couldn't sleep b/c of it).
That male nurse walked himself right into the meeting where the psychiatrists/and psychologists were discussing my case. They were in there for about an hour. I was interviewed and the supervising psychiatrist would go back in there. I can't believe the man that was putting his hands down his pants in front of me was allowed to walk in there like that! Great he knows my name, where I live, and that I've been raped, and has probably listened to a debate on what a nutcase I am. Perfect!
I am not complaining about the hospital or my treatment from the doctors, which actually went well and they were of assistance to me ....but geesh if they only knew who they were allowing to listen in!
I'm still in shock about it.
I went home and immediately and left a message for my private doctor. I told him what a big mistake I had made. I feel so stupid! There were just so many things going on this month and I let time slip up on me. I was also embarrassed to call him at the last minute, and say "hey I've run out of my medication" b/c that would have seemed so irresponsible. I will NEVER make this mistake again. No matter how much I have to pay or who I have to borrow money from.
I will never ever go to a city Hospital again.
I highly recommend any female who is alone- to never go alone to a city hospital.
Always bring someone with you.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Blah...too late :(
I finally got around to calling the credit card companies. One of my credit cards was closed and sent to collections :(. For the past three years I paid that card on time. I took a pride in getting my credit back on track. It hurts :( I actually cried when I heard that today. I stopped paying back in February. ..when everything went a muck.
Luckily one of my credit cards was still open and I am setting up a payment for tomorrow.
Still have some discomfort with chest and pressure around the lungs... but nothing compared to that sensation of the nose/brain area that caused hyperventilation. It's uncomfortable but manageable.
Luckily one of my credit cards was still open and I am setting up a payment for tomorrow.
Still have some discomfort with chest and pressure around the lungs... but nothing compared to that sensation of the nose/brain area that caused hyperventilation. It's uncomfortable but manageable.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Trying to get my self esteem back
I think it is safe to say I no longer have panic disorder. That's not to say I will never have a panic attack again, but it's no longer a daily thing. I hope I am not talking too soon but that seems to be the case. I do have heart palpitations, and occasionally it feels as if an elephant is sitting on my chest/heart area....but not the hyperventilation problem....
Depression was tough. That's an understatement. I've never been depressed for so long in my life before. I still have qualms about antidepressants though. I read somewhere that psychiatrists are more likely than the average person to take SSRI's b/c they know the benefits of them. I suppose I am afraid of the up or downs I might go through by getting off of them. The Lexapro was helpful, and I am going to use it for a month or two more, but I didn't feel like me. You know when you cry and your heart hurts? When you actually feel that ache while you are crying. With Lexapro I felt that ache but it was numb. There but not there.
Six months of depression. The severe depression started right about the time my Uncle died, and I had to send my son away.
Six months of zombie like nothingness. Of crying everyday. Of not accomplishing anything in my life. Of not going anywhere.
Now that I think I am finally seeing the light, where or how do I get my self esteem back on track? My credit went to mess. My clothes no longer fit. I have very little self pride.
I used to wake up in the morning with excitement and joy about the day and it's possibilities. I want to now, but as much as I try it feels feigned.
Plus as of late I my body has been going through discomfort. Burning sensation under the skin, muscle aches. These past two weeks I wake up unable to open my jaw, and my shoulder and neck feel frozen when I wake up in the morning. I've googled the symptoms and TMJ comes up. Nothing serious but it sure is uncomfortable. I'll go to a doctor if it keeps up to find out what is wrong.
I'm looking forward to my appointment with my psychiatrist this week. I really don't know what would have happened to me without his assistance. I wish I could afford to see the psychotherapist that recommended him to me. She was wonderful. I think more than any medication what I need is someone to talk to.
My son is having a blast. I am so happy he's having fun. Last night he went to spend the night at his friends' house. This morning he went to church with my grandparents. My mom bought him his favorite Rhonaldinho soccer shoes...I wish I were down there with him but I have to use this time to organize things for next year. That will be our last year in New York. I want him to finish middle school here.
Unfortunately the apartment didn't work out. I was supposed to "sublease' it, but the Jewish lady found out, and I was honest with her. I could have caused a fuss, and stayed in the apartment, gotten a lawyer, but the last thing I wanted is a group of Hasidics upset with me. Her parents are Holocaust survivors.
She had promised the apartment to a construction guy, and he's renovating the apartment right now as I am typing. The apartment was nice, two bedrooms for 725 dollars, with a view to the Empire State Building. I had to move out to another apartment on the same floor. It's a one bedroom for 1000 dollars. I'll live in Brooklyn, walk up six flights of stairs for 725 dollars a month, but no way will I do that for the apartment I am in now.
Its been a learning experience for both myself and my son. Living here has been like living in Antwerp. It has a very European feel to it. My building is full of these adorable little children playing in the hallways. They practice their English with me. One little boy asks me every time he see me "What is your name?" and if there are other kids they start to echo him. The stairway fills of little voices asking me what my name is.
There is a very peaceful energy in this area, I feel very safe here. I think that has been conducive in helping to heal my panic disorder.
When we first got here my son went to the Kosher grocery store to get some milk and cereal. He came back frustrated and upset.
" Mom I am never going to the Kosher store ever ever again! The lady threw the change at me!I'm NEVER going there again- no way. That was so rude! Mom she THEW the change at me. From now on I am only going to the Latino store."
Well after reading and studying about the Hasids he understands now, we now go to the Kosher store and if there's a man at the register my son gets the change and vice-versa. One thing I found odd it that they are all on foodstamps!! Then again with 9 to 10 kids per family....
They keep all the non Jewish people on the sixth floor so there is an interesting dynamic amongst the people on this floor. I've never lived in a place and had neighbors reach out to me ( friendship wise) in such a short time period.
On of my neighbors is a 20 year old photography assistant who is also subleasing. She lent me a video the other day about the Hasids called A Life Apart. It was fascinating to watch b/c it gave me an inside look into their world.
They are very peaceful people. It's been a fun learning experience, but I couldn't handle living here for long...I'm a loner as it is, but feeling like a minority just walking down the streets kinda odd. I'm always worried if my shirt is too tight. I won't wear shorts around here either.
Plus I miss Manhattan way too much. No more subway for me or my son.
Oh and my passport is in Arlington Texas. I left my cell phone on in the hopes that whoever took my bag might use it. Well they did and all the calls were in Texas. Whoever flew out of the terminal went to Texas, and kept my cell phone and passport. I am going back to the airport tmmrw and reporting it as theft. I called one of the numbers that was called out from my cellphone with and a man answered. I asked him about my passport and told him I would pay him a reward for it. He denied everything. I called back 10 minutes later and both my cell phone and his cell phone were turned off! I have his name and number ( I did a reverse search) and am going to give it to the detectives. It would be sweet if they could find out if anyone under that name flew out of the airport terminal I was at. What a piece of dirt that person must be. This morning I called his cellphone number and it is now disconnected.
Depression was tough. That's an understatement. I've never been depressed for so long in my life before. I still have qualms about antidepressants though. I read somewhere that psychiatrists are more likely than the average person to take SSRI's b/c they know the benefits of them. I suppose I am afraid of the up or downs I might go through by getting off of them. The Lexapro was helpful, and I am going to use it for a month or two more, but I didn't feel like me. You know when you cry and your heart hurts? When you actually feel that ache while you are crying. With Lexapro I felt that ache but it was numb. There but not there.
Six months of depression. The severe depression started right about the time my Uncle died, and I had to send my son away.
Six months of zombie like nothingness. Of crying everyday. Of not accomplishing anything in my life. Of not going anywhere.
Now that I think I am finally seeing the light, where or how do I get my self esteem back on track? My credit went to mess. My clothes no longer fit. I have very little self pride.
I used to wake up in the morning with excitement and joy about the day and it's possibilities. I want to now, but as much as I try it feels feigned.
Plus as of late I my body has been going through discomfort. Burning sensation under the skin, muscle aches. These past two weeks I wake up unable to open my jaw, and my shoulder and neck feel frozen when I wake up in the morning. I've googled the symptoms and TMJ comes up. Nothing serious but it sure is uncomfortable. I'll go to a doctor if it keeps up to find out what is wrong.
I'm looking forward to my appointment with my psychiatrist this week. I really don't know what would have happened to me without his assistance. I wish I could afford to see the psychotherapist that recommended him to me. She was wonderful. I think more than any medication what I need is someone to talk to.
My son is having a blast. I am so happy he's having fun. Last night he went to spend the night at his friends' house. This morning he went to church with my grandparents. My mom bought him his favorite Rhonaldinho soccer shoes...I wish I were down there with him but I have to use this time to organize things for next year. That will be our last year in New York. I want him to finish middle school here.
Unfortunately the apartment didn't work out. I was supposed to "sublease' it, but the Jewish lady found out, and I was honest with her. I could have caused a fuss, and stayed in the apartment, gotten a lawyer, but the last thing I wanted is a group of Hasidics upset with me. Her parents are Holocaust survivors.
She had promised the apartment to a construction guy, and he's renovating the apartment right now as I am typing. The apartment was nice, two bedrooms for 725 dollars, with a view to the Empire State Building. I had to move out to another apartment on the same floor. It's a one bedroom for 1000 dollars. I'll live in Brooklyn, walk up six flights of stairs for 725 dollars a month, but no way will I do that for the apartment I am in now.
Its been a learning experience for both myself and my son. Living here has been like living in Antwerp. It has a very European feel to it. My building is full of these adorable little children playing in the hallways. They practice their English with me. One little boy asks me every time he see me "What is your name?" and if there are other kids they start to echo him. The stairway fills of little voices asking me what my name is.
There is a very peaceful energy in this area, I feel very safe here. I think that has been conducive in helping to heal my panic disorder.
When we first got here my son went to the Kosher grocery store to get some milk and cereal. He came back frustrated and upset.
" Mom I am never going to the Kosher store ever ever again! The lady threw the change at me!I'm NEVER going there again- no way. That was so rude! Mom she THEW the change at me. From now on I am only going to the Latino store."
Well after reading and studying about the Hasids he understands now, we now go to the Kosher store and if there's a man at the register my son gets the change and vice-versa. One thing I found odd it that they are all on foodstamps!! Then again with 9 to 10 kids per family....
They keep all the non Jewish people on the sixth floor so there is an interesting dynamic amongst the people on this floor. I've never lived in a place and had neighbors reach out to me ( friendship wise) in such a short time period.
On of my neighbors is a 20 year old photography assistant who is also subleasing. She lent me a video the other day about the Hasids called A Life Apart. It was fascinating to watch b/c it gave me an inside look into their world.
They are very peaceful people. It's been a fun learning experience, but I couldn't handle living here for long...I'm a loner as it is, but feeling like a minority just walking down the streets kinda odd. I'm always worried if my shirt is too tight. I won't wear shorts around here either.
Plus I miss Manhattan way too much. No more subway for me or my son.
Oh and my passport is in Arlington Texas. I left my cell phone on in the hopes that whoever took my bag might use it. Well they did and all the calls were in Texas. Whoever flew out of the terminal went to Texas, and kept my cell phone and passport. I am going back to the airport tmmrw and reporting it as theft. I called one of the numbers that was called out from my cellphone with and a man answered. I asked him about my passport and told him I would pay him a reward for it. He denied everything. I called back 10 minutes later and both my cell phone and his cell phone were turned off! I have his name and number ( I did a reverse search) and am going to give it to the detectives. It would be sweet if they could find out if anyone under that name flew out of the airport terminal I was at. What a piece of dirt that person must be. This morning I called his cellphone number and it is now disconnected.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Hmmmmm
Good news - no panic attack or breathing problems today for me. Just a tingling sensation in my legs and hands - as if they had fallen asleep.
Not so good news - I saw my son sticking his head out the window this morning. That's how he deals with the breathing problem. Somehow he thinks by sticking his head out the window it will help his panic attack. Makes sense from a child's point of view. He's had two full blown panic attacks, and I am beginning to realize that they occur when he is moving from one place to another. Poor thing :(. He was starting up on the subway as well. Not full blown panic but where I can tell he is feeling ill. He get a very worried look on his face and I can tell he is trying to control his breath.
Good news - I was able to get his mind off of it with questions like; What's the first thing your going to eat when you get to grandma's house? Or are you going which friends house are you going to go over to first?
Great news - He's on summer vacation away from the stinky city, and is going to enjoy every minute of it. Soccer camp, the beach, his friends, grandma spoiling him...
Good news - My doctor called and I am setting up an appointment for next week
Crappy news - I was so emotionally overwhelmed at the airport today while I was waiting for his airplane to take off I started to cry tears of happiness?relief? Whatever they were....that combined with feeling lightheaded and faint ...
and I forgot the bag where I was carrying my passport at the terminal! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Wishful thinking news - I am still keeping my hopes up that someone will turn it in tomorrow. I think one of the cleaning ladies got it.
Could it be I no longer have panic disorder???
Not so good news - I saw my son sticking his head out the window this morning. That's how he deals with the breathing problem. Somehow he thinks by sticking his head out the window it will help his panic attack. Makes sense from a child's point of view. He's had two full blown panic attacks, and I am beginning to realize that they occur when he is moving from one place to another. Poor thing :(. He was starting up on the subway as well. Not full blown panic but where I can tell he is feeling ill. He get a very worried look on his face and I can tell he is trying to control his breath.
Good news - I was able to get his mind off of it with questions like; What's the first thing your going to eat when you get to grandma's house? Or are you going which friends house are you going to go over to first?
Great news - He's on summer vacation away from the stinky city, and is going to enjoy every minute of it. Soccer camp, the beach, his friends, grandma spoiling him...
Good news - My doctor called and I am setting up an appointment for next week
Crappy news - I was so emotionally overwhelmed at the airport today while I was waiting for his airplane to take off I started to cry tears of happiness?relief? Whatever they were....that combined with feeling lightheaded and faint ...
and I forgot the bag where I was carrying my passport at the terminal! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Wishful thinking news - I am still keeping my hopes up that someone will turn it in tomorrow. I think one of the cleaning ladies got it.
Could it be I no longer have panic disorder???
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Feeling a little weak
I've run out of all medicine ( including Xanax) I saved two just in case.
I called my doctor and he returned my phone call ....left a message that he did not have any availability for last week..... but he did for this week. I was busy moving furniture from one apartment to the other...and I wasn't able to set up an appointment for this week. Will be doing so next week.... I want to get on the Lexapro for just a month or two more. I really felt it was helpful and allowed me to "heal". I am not fond of the idea of staying on it. I don't feel my body or mind should rely on any kind of medicine.
Tomorrow my son is leaving for his summer vacation. I was doing ok, until I thought about him leaving. He's going to have so much fun, but I am still going to miss him.
I am beginning to realize I might suffer from a severe form separation anxiety. Every panic attack ( except for one) that I have had has been while I am away from him. Two of them in the airport. Today I started feeling very weak - no hyperventilation- but just weak. Almost as if I were to exert myself too much I might faint. Shallow breathing. A few heart palpitations here and there...no "panic" feeling though. No psychological panic - just weakness. No sensation in the upper nasal area like before....
Interesting...
Tomorrow will be a big day. I am taking him to the airport and it's going to be at LaGuardia the place where I had my last panic attack. I think I will be ok. I'll be proud of myself if everything goes well...
Speaking of proud... well my son makes me so proud. He went through so much this year. And was able to tough it out, pass 7th grade, and still keep the shine in eyes and love in his heart. He makes it all worth it. That's why no matter what happens I'll keep fighting and staying strong for his sake.
I called my doctor and he returned my phone call ....left a message that he did not have any availability for last week..... but he did for this week. I was busy moving furniture from one apartment to the other...and I wasn't able to set up an appointment for this week. Will be doing so next week.... I want to get on the Lexapro for just a month or two more. I really felt it was helpful and allowed me to "heal". I am not fond of the idea of staying on it. I don't feel my body or mind should rely on any kind of medicine.
Tomorrow my son is leaving for his summer vacation. I was doing ok, until I thought about him leaving. He's going to have so much fun, but I am still going to miss him.
I am beginning to realize I might suffer from a severe form separation anxiety. Every panic attack ( except for one) that I have had has been while I am away from him. Two of them in the airport. Today I started feeling very weak - no hyperventilation- but just weak. Almost as if I were to exert myself too much I might faint. Shallow breathing. A few heart palpitations here and there...no "panic" feeling though. No psychological panic - just weakness. No sensation in the upper nasal area like before....
Interesting...
Tomorrow will be a big day. I am taking him to the airport and it's going to be at LaGuardia the place where I had my last panic attack. I think I will be ok. I'll be proud of myself if everything goes well...
Speaking of proud... well my son makes me so proud. He went through so much this year. And was able to tough it out, pass 7th grade, and still keep the shine in eyes and love in his heart. He makes it all worth it. That's why no matter what happens I'll keep fighting and staying strong for his sake.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Almost there ( I hope)
I haven't updated in a while. I suppose that is a good thing. For now the panic breathing problem is all but gone. Amazing that such a small amount of Lexapro would be the answer to that. I am taking .25 once every other day. I have missed a lot of days..but just a little is enough to stop the breathing problem. I wonder what component of Lexapro is the one that helps with the anxiety in such little time? I'll try to do some research on that.
I tried for about a week to not take the Lexapro and well the breathing problem that starts out with the sensation above my nose started up again. So I'm both happy and disenchanted about that. I'm happy b/c I have a solution for the hyperventilation issue, but saddened by the fact that I have to take medicine to help it. I've taken very little of the xanax.
I did hit a huge bump in the road about a week and a half ago. I had just gotten back from my Uncle's funeral/celebration in May. It was in his garden in upstate NY. The celebration was wonderful for me insomuch that I was surrounded by my family. It was painful me as
well. The last day there I went on a a morning walk with my cousin through his gardens, and we passed by the place where my Uncle's ashes were thrown. We contemplated about life, and my Uncle, and started to walk back to the house.
A bright red truck approached the driveway. . .It was early on a Sunday morning so it was rather odd. We then found out it was the truck with the tombstone. The two drivers placed the tombstone right on top of the grass where my Uncle's ashes were. Everything seemed bleak then. All the hoopla/celebration was washed away that second by the site of the tombstone. The guests, the chamber orchestra, the champagne, the hors d'oeuvres, the beautiful memory wall filled with pictures of my Uncle's life, were erased from my present memory as I stared at that tombstone.
My Cousin looking at the resting place
I 've noticed that it takes me a few days before I react to a death, or tragic event. React as in mental breakdown. So I have to make note of that three to four day time period. . . for next time. So I'll be more aware of my actions and why I am doing them. Sometimes the heartache and the pain is to much and logic gets thrown out the window. I think I need to educate myself more on the process of bereavement.
So anyways I was sitting there writing and the tears started flowing out...just dropping onto the papers below. My mind was flooded memories of my dad, and the tombstone of my Uncle. Ouch those memories hurt so much....
It affected my life, and my son's, in so many ways. Early intervention with panic disorder is the key in stopping it from becoming a chronic condition. Instead I had to deal with accusations, verbal abuse, bogus medical records, and blacklisting with my doctor which made it almost impossible to find medical help.
I had a fever of 103.5 earlier this month that lasted for almost over a week. I woke up one day screaming from a nightmare "please don't take my medicine away". During the nightmare I was walking and the floor kept falling out beneath me.I cried the whole afternoon. I don't think anyone can truly understand the nightmare Klonzopine withdrawal without experiencing it. Plus I wasn't experiencing just that, I was was experience a new illness. That of panic disorder.
The hardest part about going through psychiatric abuse like that is the lack of someone to talk about it to - especially how the situation played out in my case - moving to a new city and simultaneously coming down with panic disorder. And the struggles of trying to find a doctor for the first time to help one treat it.
Especially when I complied with my treatment exactly how they prescribed it to me. That is scary that they would play with someones life and mental health like that.
Anyways my son took care of that for me. Bless his heart. He has been so strong and resilient. The social worker/nurses at the other hopsital asked him what was wrong, and he told them. My mommy is really sad about everyone dying in our family .
Speaking of death ....we've had 4 deaths in the past two years. My son also experienced the death of his paternal grandfather this January. He died of prostate cancer. That hit him emotionally to the point of numbness. That is what I see on my son's face now numbness.
Anyways I had a breakdown and landed at another NYC hospital. My son was there with me. The staff at the other hospital was excellent.
Sure some of them looked at me like I was a nuts, but no one was unprofessional.
I think now that the hyperventilation issue is gone, I am battling depression a little bit more now b/c reality is sinking in. All the months wasted, the sheer fear and terror of forgetting how to breath, the months wasted on the couch trying to breath, the friends lost, the wrinkles and gray hairs I gained. The battle to try to find medical help. I look back at text messages on my phone from before my panic disorder....and I don't remember who I was. Dealing with that realization is difficult.
Also I feel terrible , terrible about my son. I feel like I have failed him in so many ways. He's never had to experience poverty, or homelessness. But there really was no other solution. I had to get him out of the school environment in South Carolina. I knew my son. He had never gotten into any detentions, or problems at his private Montessori School in South America. To watch all the racism and hate play out , and have you son expelled and harassed by the same teachers that are there to teach him was just too much. It is a shame because there were some excellent teachers at my son's school. His honors teachers were fabulous. South Carolina is a beautiful and safe environment to raise a child. However I couldn't allow the racism to continue. Even my grandmother who was up at my Uncle's funeral told everyone that my son experienced a 'backlash' at school due to the new Mexican population that is arriving at the upper middle class town.
However I think I could have avoided my son going through homeless situation if I had received proper medical help in time. I ended up spending all my savings in trying to find a doctor, and time that I could have spent looking for a job was spent on the couch experiencing withdrawals & hyperventilating.
I tried for about a week to not take the Lexapro and well the breathing problem that starts out with the sensation above my nose started up again. So I'm both happy and disenchanted about that. I'm happy b/c I have a solution for the hyperventilation issue, but saddened by the fact that I have to take medicine to help it. I've taken very little of the xanax.
I did hit a huge bump in the road about a week and a half ago. I had just gotten back from my Uncle's funeral/celebration in May. It was in his garden in upstate NY. The celebration was wonderful for me insomuch that I was surrounded by my family. It was painful me as
well. The last day there I went on a a morning walk with my cousin through his gardens, and we passed by the place where my Uncle's ashes were thrown. We contemplated about life, and my Uncle, and started to walk back to the house.A bright red truck approached the driveway. . .It was early on a Sunday morning so it was rather odd. We then found out it was the truck with the tombstone. The two drivers placed the tombstone right on top of the grass where my Uncle's ashes were. Everything seemed bleak then. All the hoopla/celebration was washed away that second by the site of the tombstone. The guests, the chamber orchestra, the champagne, the hors d'oeuvres, the beautiful memory wall filled with pictures of my Uncle's life, were erased from my present memory as I stared at that tombstone.
My Cousin looking at the resting place
A few days later I had a breakdown. Which ended me up at the
hospital. I was writing things out for the civil lawsuit with my dad's case. The night before I had spoken to my mother. We talked about a lot of emotional issues, and then the conversation went on to who would get what when she died. That didn't help, although upsetting me was not her intention at all.
hospital. I was writing things out for the civil lawsuit with my dad's case. The night before I had spoken to my mother. We talked about a lot of emotional issues, and then the conversation went on to who would get what when she died. That didn't help, although upsetting me was not her intention at all.
I 've noticed that it takes me a few days before I react to a death, or tragic event. React as in mental breakdown. So I have to make note of that three to four day time period. . . for next time. So I'll be more aware of my actions and why I am doing them. Sometimes the heartache and the pain is to much and logic gets thrown out the window. I think I need to educate myself more on the process of bereavement.
So anyways I was sitting there writing and the tears started flowing out...just dropping onto the papers below. My mind was flooded memories of my dad, and the tombstone of my Uncle. Ouch those memories hurt so much....
It affected my life, and my son's, in so many ways. Early intervention with panic disorder is the key in stopping it from becoming a chronic condition. Instead I had to deal with accusations, verbal abuse, bogus medical records, and blacklisting with my doctor which made it almost impossible to find medical help.
I had a fever of 103.5 earlier this month that lasted for almost over a week. I woke up one day screaming from a nightmare "please don't take my medicine away". During the nightmare I was walking and the floor kept falling out beneath me.I cried the whole afternoon. I don't think anyone can truly understand the nightmare Klonzopine withdrawal without experiencing it. Plus I wasn't experiencing just that, I was was experience a new illness. That of panic disorder.
The hardest part about going through psychiatric abuse like that is the lack of someone to talk about it to - especially how the situation played out in my case - moving to a new city and simultaneously coming down with panic disorder. And the struggles of trying to find a doctor for the first time to help one treat it.
Especially when I complied with my treatment exactly how they prescribed it to me. That is scary that they would play with someones life and mental health like that.
Anyways my son took care of that for me. Bless his heart. He has been so strong and resilient. The social worker/nurses at the other hopsital asked him what was wrong, and he told them. My mommy is really sad about everyone dying in our family .
Speaking of death ....we've had 4 deaths in the past two years. My son also experienced the death of his paternal grandfather this January. He died of prostate cancer. That hit him emotionally to the point of numbness. That is what I see on my son's face now numbness.
Anyways I had a breakdown and landed at another NYC hospital. My son was there with me. The staff at the other hospital was excellent.
Sure some of them looked at me like I was a nuts, but no one was unprofessional.
I think now that the hyperventilation issue is gone, I am battling depression a little bit more now b/c reality is sinking in. All the months wasted, the sheer fear and terror of forgetting how to breath, the months wasted on the couch trying to breath, the friends lost, the wrinkles and gray hairs I gained. The battle to try to find medical help. I look back at text messages on my phone from before my panic disorder....and I don't remember who I was. Dealing with that realization is difficult.
Also I feel terrible , terrible about my son. I feel like I have failed him in so many ways. He's never had to experience poverty, or homelessness. But there really was no other solution. I had to get him out of the school environment in South Carolina. I knew my son. He had never gotten into any detentions, or problems at his private Montessori School in South America. To watch all the racism and hate play out , and have you son expelled and harassed by the same teachers that are there to teach him was just too much. It is a shame because there were some excellent teachers at my son's school. His honors teachers were fabulous. South Carolina is a beautiful and safe environment to raise a child. However I couldn't allow the racism to continue. Even my grandmother who was up at my Uncle's funeral told everyone that my son experienced a 'backlash' at school due to the new Mexican population that is arriving at the upper middle class town.
However I think I could have avoided my son going through homeless situation if I had received proper medical help in time. I ended up spending all my savings in trying to find a doctor, and time that I could have spent looking for a job was spent on the couch experiencing withdrawals & hyperventilating.
Oh and speaking of family , my younger sister ended up in the hospital this month. She was supposed to come up to the funeral but could not make it. She had a breakdown due to my Uncle's death. It also brought up a lot of issues for her concerning our father's death as well. She's still in the hospital. I feel so bad for her :( Funny that our feelings and sadness were mirroring each other even though we were miles away and hadn't spoken. I think that for both of us ( more in her case b/c she never got to know her dad) our Uncle was the only loving and genuinely kind male role figure that we had in our lives apart from our father who died ( my adoptive father) ....and perhaps this is why it was such a 'trigger' event for both of us.
My sister, myself, and Uncle Charlie
My grandma brought me to tears when me about what happened after they rushed up there in early January when he fell into the coma. They got there just in time. He died a day or two later. My grandma told me she held his hand and said, "I'm here now ", and that tears rolled down his cheek. Even though he was dying in a coma and suffering from Alzheimer's he recognized his sister's voice . . .:(
I am going out with my son now.... don't want to spend all day blogging or on the computer..but I'll write more later. My main goal now is to find a way to get off of the Lexapro and stop the breathing issue all together. I hope I will be able to do so eventually without the assistance of medicine. For now I am happy at the fact that Lexapro was able to help me to breath again normally.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Train rides, Dreams, and Coffee
I did the unthinkable. I had a cup of coffee this morning. 54 mintues later, no hyperventialtion! I have a slight caffeine buzz, but that's all. So another day, and I can still say I am not hyperventialting.
Last night I had a nightmare. In the dream I had just bought a puppy who looked just like my all white Jack Russlle Nikko. Nikko died in March of 2002 after being run over by a truck in Costa Rica.
In the dream was carrying her with me everywhere, yet she kept dissapearing. My mom was in the dream, and I also had a panic attack in my dream ( or dreamed I was having one).
I was stuck without any medicine, and I was desperatley searching everywhere in my room for my precription note from my Doctor. That desperation and fear was present throughout the whole nightmare.
Speaking of dreams, that's another begnin side effect that I've experienced with Lexapro ( I forgot to add that one). On day three or four as I was drifting off to sleep my mind was flooded with with a number of forgotten memories... I experienced lucid like dreams in the hypnogicic state. Things that I had not thought about, or remembered, in over 13 14 years.
My train ride from Montpellier to Barcelona right after meeting my biological father Jean Pierre for the first time. The memories of the train ride were vivid. The colour of the water, the small towns, even the traincar itself. I had forgotton all about that trip.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Something is getting better . . .
I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy and happy.
I am not sure if it due to the fact that my body had finally gotten rid of the Klonzopine, or due to the small amount of Lexapro that I am taking. Whatever it is, I am finally experiencing relief from the vicious hyperventilating cycle that has been taxing my body and mind since December.
One of the side effects of Klozonpine can be hyperventilation - so who knows? Perhaps after the initial period the Klonzopine was actually exacerbating the anxiety/panic or causing the hyperventilation.
All I know is that I am so happy it's not happening now.
I am not taking 5mg of Lexapro a day, but rather 2.5mg. I know it is a very small amount - but whatever is in it has helped ( either that or it is just a placebo effect).
I am planning on taking it only for a month or until my supply runs out - and then see if the hyperventilation stays away all together. I am so relieved. The only anxiety symptoms I have had at all this past week it the closing up of the throat/choking feeling, but I can handle that and talk myself out of it.
I was reading the side effects of Lexapro, and some bad experiences some people have had so I really wanted to avoid any side effects or future withdrawals. That is the reason I am taking the least amount possible.
I haven't even had the need to pick up the Xanax my doctor prescribed for me.
I've also made a goal to try to start a juice fast ( I'll still eat some solid foods) in order to be as healthy as possible. I am also going to try to read up on the mechanisms inside the brain in order to try to understand exactly what was causing the hyperventilation.
I'm heading to D.C. again this week going to file the court papers,do some investigating on my dad's estate, and hopefully catch up with some old friends.
I'm also moving into my new apartment at the end of this month ( I can't wait to decorate it). My son will be starting his soccer classes again.
Uncle Charlie's funeral ( well his partner calls it a celebration) will be in less than two weeks now. It sounds like it's going to be a beautiful event. There will be about 100 guests showing up, and there will be a chamber orchestra there as well.
A lot of my family members are coming up so it will be nice to see them ( especially my mom). I have to send my seahorse to the shoe repair shop. Those were the sandals that my Uncle was so fixated with a few months before his death. I want to wear them....
Hopefully the rest will be smooth sailing from here. I'm sure to have a few anxiety bumps in the road to come....but I am for the most part on the road to recovery. It will be interesting to see what happens when I stop the Lexapro. I'm curious as to whether such a minuscule amount per day really did take away the hyperventilation.
Oh and I didn't start a journal of my Lexapro usage, but I wanted to write that the only discomfort was on day two or three ( this was when I was taking the 5mg per day)was a sensation of feeling the outer part of my brain around the skull area. I also felt a rush about 20 minutes after I took the first dosage. It was similar to drinking an energy drink. My palms got sweaty, and I felt like I was going to start hyperventilating. I had already read online that people had experienced this on there initial dosage, and that was what actually triggered panic attacks. I was prepared for it so was able to think myself out of it. Plus after the Klonzopine withdrawal my body/mind are a lot stronger now when it comes to panicking and anxiety.
Plus it helped to know my Doctor was there for me. He told me to call him and tell him how it went after my first dosage, and I did. It is primordial for panic attack suffers to find the right Doctor in order to recover as soon as possible.I've read a lot of bad stories, such as mine , where panic attack sufferers are accused of lying or faking their symptoms.
That only leads to demoralization, depression, despair, and subsequently more anxiety. If you don't get a good feeling over the phone, or after your first consultation SEARCH for another Doctor. While dealing with panic disorder/anxiety it's important to find a psychiatrist that compassionate and empathetic to one's plight.
I am not sure if it due to the fact that my body had finally gotten rid of the Klonzopine, or due to the small amount of Lexapro that I am taking. Whatever it is, I am finally experiencing relief from the vicious hyperventilating cycle that has been taxing my body and mind since December.
One of the side effects of Klozonpine can be hyperventilation - so who knows? Perhaps after the initial period the Klonzopine was actually exacerbating the anxiety/panic or causing the hyperventilation.
All I know is that I am so happy it's not happening now.
I am not taking 5mg of Lexapro a day, but rather 2.5mg. I know it is a very small amount - but whatever is in it has helped ( either that or it is just a placebo effect).
I am planning on taking it only for a month or until my supply runs out - and then see if the hyperventilation stays away all together. I am so relieved. The only anxiety symptoms I have had at all this past week it the closing up of the throat/choking feeling, but I can handle that and talk myself out of it.
I was reading the side effects of Lexapro, and some bad experiences some people have had so I really wanted to avoid any side effects or future withdrawals. That is the reason I am taking the least amount possible.
I haven't even had the need to pick up the Xanax my doctor prescribed for me.
I've also made a goal to try to start a juice fast ( I'll still eat some solid foods) in order to be as healthy as possible. I am also going to try to read up on the mechanisms inside the brain in order to try to understand exactly what was causing the hyperventilation.
I'm heading to D.C. again this week going to file the court papers,do some investigating on my dad's estate, and hopefully catch up with some old friends.
I'm also moving into my new apartment at the end of this month ( I can't wait to decorate it). My son will be starting his soccer classes again.
Uncle Charlie's funeral ( well his partner calls it a celebration) will be in less than two weeks now. It sounds like it's going to be a beautiful event. There will be about 100 guests showing up, and there will be a chamber orchestra there as well.
A lot of my family members are coming up so it will be nice to see them ( especially my mom). I have to send my seahorse to the shoe repair shop. Those were the sandals that my Uncle was so fixated with a few months before his death. I want to wear them....
Hopefully the rest will be smooth sailing from here. I'm sure to have a few anxiety bumps in the road to come....but I am for the most part on the road to recovery. It will be interesting to see what happens when I stop the Lexapro. I'm curious as to whether such a minuscule amount per day really did take away the hyperventilation.
Oh and I didn't start a journal of my Lexapro usage, but I wanted to write that the only discomfort was on day two or three ( this was when I was taking the 5mg per day)was a sensation of feeling the outer part of my brain around the skull area. I also felt a rush about 20 minutes after I took the first dosage. It was similar to drinking an energy drink. My palms got sweaty, and I felt like I was going to start hyperventilating. I had already read online that people had experienced this on there initial dosage, and that was what actually triggered panic attacks. I was prepared for it so was able to think myself out of it. Plus after the Klonzopine withdrawal my body/mind are a lot stronger now when it comes to panicking and anxiety.
Plus it helped to know my Doctor was there for me. He told me to call him and tell him how it went after my first dosage, and I did. It is primordial for panic attack suffers to find the right Doctor in order to recover as soon as possible.I've read a lot of bad stories, such as mine , where panic attack sufferers are accused of lying or faking their symptoms.
That only leads to demoralization, depression, despair, and subsequently more anxiety. If you don't get a good feeling over the phone, or after your first consultation SEARCH for another Doctor. While dealing with panic disorder/anxiety it's important to find a psychiatrist that compassionate and empathetic to one's plight.
Friday, May 9, 2008
This morning
This morning my son and I made a mad dash and jumped onto the crowded stinky NYC metro right before the doors closed. I looked over and saw a female in her mid 20's waving her hand over her face to cool herself down. It was chilly and raining today so my first thought was that it must be really hot in here in the subway. After few minutes I glanced over again and she was still fanning her face. Then she started to take her jacket off. She then asked the man sitting down if he could get up so she could sit. I looked down and saw that her breathing was really labored. She was having a panic attack.
I wanted to reach out to her and help her. I remember when having my full blown panic attack people asking me what was wrong actually solidified my panic and made it worse. However I quickly asked ( couldn't help it) and she responded that she did not know what was happening to her.
Part of me wanted to say, "Your having a panic attack!" In the hopes that she could learn about what was happening to her before it got any worse. That would not have been the best thing to do though. She was hyperventilating and just closed her eyes. My son and I got off and I do not know what happened. I hope she is OK.
It brought up memories of my second full blown panic attack which happened about a year after my first one. I never thought I would have another one. I was going through a lot of emotional stress due to what was happening to my son in school. I was also up in New York b/c I had an appointment with my lawyer who was handling my father's estate.
On October 31 had called me up crying over the phone that my mom ( his grand mom) was not going to take him to the Halloween hayride. He went when he was 9 years old and that was one of the fondest memories of his grandma and of South Carolina. His heart was broken. I begged her to take him. She was upset about him getting detentions almost every other day, and said no.
My son called me up saying he was thinking of running away from home. There was so much sadness in his voice. He had been through so much in that South Carolina public school and this was the icing on the cake. My mom validating a bunch of racist pigs picking on him for being Hispanic.
When I travel I always take a picture with me of him. Ironically the one I had chosen for this particular trip was a photo I had with me was the one from when he was 9 attending that same Hayride he wanted to go to so badly. I wanted him as well b/c that to me represented a part of his youth and innocence. I wanted him to get in touch with that again.
My sleep was all messed up. I cried every night. Then I think it was on the 3 or 4th of November when PANIC showed it's ugly face again. I was feeling really sick and hot. I thought to myself
" Oh my god I need to go sit down somewhere." I went into the first restaurant I could find. The Heartland Brewery at the Empire State Building. I asked the host if I could get a table b/c I needed to sit down b/c I was feeling very sick. He informed me that tables were only for people eating full meals. The restaurant was very busy. Then he told me I could go over to the bar instead.
I went over to the bar and there was no place to sit. All the seats were taken. I was standing up and waited for like 15 minutes. The bartender was busy. I ordered mashed potatoes, spinach, and Sprite. My order took forever to get to me. I started feeling even sicker. I ran to the same host and asked him if I could please sit down somewhere. He informed me once again that there was no table ready and I could only sit down if I was ordering a full meal. I told him that I would order a full meal...that I was really feeling sick. I went back to the bar started sweating....and stood for a few more minutes and the BOOM.
Something in my mind went on slow motion. I can best described it as a stick shift car going from gear 5 to neutral in less than a second. The gears changed and then I fell down to the floor.
I was terrified of the body twitching ( they felt like convulsions) I had experienced a year before when I had my first panic attack. I just thought to myself oh no please not again not again ....not here ...not now....My brain was flooded with the thought that I might die...my heart might give out on me....and my son would be stuck in that terrible situation if I were to die
I couldn't breath. I was scared out of my mind. After a few minutes I forced myself up again. I wanted to escape somewhere. I asked where the ladies room was and went down a large wooden staircase. The place was huge downstairs. There were more tables ...more people.I found the first empty table and collapsed my upper body on an empty table. I'll never forget the manager there at Heartland Brewery. She stayed with me until the ambulance got there. I was in a fetal position, hyperventilating . ... She was so kind. Without her I think I might of passed out.
The ambulance took me to Beth Israel, and was talked out of my panic attack by a wonderful Doctor there in the E.R. room.
As many bad people that I've met during the worst parts of my panic attacks and development of panic disorder, I've met kind compassionate human beings as well.
I should be filling my mind with the positive memories ( sounds like a silly statement when remembering panic attacks) and positive people instead of just focusing on the uneducated angry sadistic people I've also encountered.
Speaking of positive people I went to see my psychiatrist again. He is wonderful. I feel so lucky to have found him. He knows about my situation and is charging me about 1/3 of what he normally charges. I expressed to him my concerns about Clonzopen. I told him I had weaned myself off of it. I told him I was learning to control my panic attacks now, and that I only wanted something lighter to take. I mentioned xanax.
Now that I've educated myself of Benzopines I do not want them in my blood stream non stop.I've said this before, and I'll say it again. Clozopine was a life safer in the worst stages - and gave me time to educate myself and probably nipped more panic attacks in the bud.
I want to have something for an emergency crisis...for a plane ride...in other words as a "just in case". So he prescribed me 60 for two months.
I haven't even felt the need to go to pharmacy and pick them up !
I did mention to him how depressed I was. Panic disorder and perhaps aftereffects of the Clozpen tapering it's self had lead me to feel worthless and depressed. I mean everyday for the past two months the tears just roll down my eyes.
He suggested an anti-depressant. Now for me to accept this and say yes was a big deal to me. I knew I needed to give something a try. I told him I wanted the least amount of medicine and my main concern was getting off of it. I never want to experience withdrawal symptoms again in my life!
I've set a guideline and will only be using this medication until things in my life settle down, and until my dad's estate is closed. He gave me a Lexapro sample that will last me for a month. So two days ago I started 5 milligrams of Lexapro per day. And I hate to admit this...but it's totally stopped that gear function in my mind that kick started the hyperventilation...and hampered any anticipatory anxiety from starting.
I have more to write about this tomorrow, and will be doing a journal of my experience with this medicine. I can't believe I am taking an anti-depressant. It is so against my beliefs - but oh well. Like my mom said,
"When you get a headache do you feel bad about taking an aspirin?"
No
"Well then why do you feel bad about taking an antidepressant if you really need it?"
I wanted to reach out to her and help her. I remember when having my full blown panic attack people asking me what was wrong actually solidified my panic and made it worse. However I quickly asked ( couldn't help it) and she responded that she did not know what was happening to her.
Part of me wanted to say, "Your having a panic attack!" In the hopes that she could learn about what was happening to her before it got any worse. That would not have been the best thing to do though. She was hyperventilating and just closed her eyes. My son and I got off and I do not know what happened. I hope she is OK.
It brought up memories of my second full blown panic attack which happened about a year after my first one. I never thought I would have another one. I was going through a lot of emotional stress due to what was happening to my son in school. I was also up in New York b/c I had an appointment with my lawyer who was handling my father's estate.
On October 31 had called me up crying over the phone that my mom ( his grand mom) was not going to take him to the Halloween hayride. He went when he was 9 years old and that was one of the fondest memories of his grandma and of South Carolina. His heart was broken. I begged her to take him. She was upset about him getting detentions almost every other day, and said no.
My son called me up saying he was thinking of running away from home. There was so much sadness in his voice. He had been through so much in that South Carolina public school and this was the icing on the cake. My mom validating a bunch of racist pigs picking on him for being Hispanic.
When I travel I always take a picture with me of him. Ironically the one I had chosen for this particular trip was a photo I had with me was the one from when he was 9 attending that same Hayride he wanted to go to so badly. I wanted him as well b/c that to me represented a part of his youth and innocence. I wanted him to get in touch with that again.
My sleep was all messed up. I cried every night. Then I think it was on the 3 or 4th of November when PANIC showed it's ugly face again. I was feeling really sick and hot. I thought to myself
" Oh my god I need to go sit down somewhere." I went into the first restaurant I could find. The Heartland Brewery at the Empire State Building. I asked the host if I could get a table b/c I needed to sit down b/c I was feeling very sick. He informed me that tables were only for people eating full meals. The restaurant was very busy. Then he told me I could go over to the bar instead.
T
The actual place where I had my second panic attack
The actual place where I had my second panic attackI went over to the bar and there was no place to sit. All the seats were taken. I was standing up and waited for like 15 minutes. The bartender was busy. I ordered mashed potatoes, spinach, and Sprite. My order took forever to get to me. I started feeling even sicker. I ran to the same host and asked him if I could please sit down somewhere. He informed me once again that there was no table ready and I could only sit down if I was ordering a full meal. I told him that I would order a full meal...that I was really feeling sick. I went back to the bar started sweating....and stood for a few more minutes and the BOOM.
Something in my mind went on slow motion. I can best described it as a stick shift car going from gear 5 to neutral in less than a second. The gears changed and then I fell down to the floor.
I was terrified of the body twitching ( they felt like convulsions) I had experienced a year before when I had my first panic attack. I just thought to myself oh no please not again not again ....not here ...not now....My brain was flooded with the thought that I might die...my heart might give out on me....and my son would be stuck in that terrible situation if I were to die
I couldn't breath. I was scared out of my mind. After a few minutes I forced myself up again. I wanted to escape somewhere. I asked where the ladies room was and went down a large wooden staircase. The place was huge downstairs. There were more tables ...more people.I found the first empty table and collapsed my upper body on an empty table. I'll never forget the manager there at Heartland Brewery. She stayed with me until the ambulance got there. I was in a fetal position, hyperventilating . ... She was so kind. Without her I think I might of passed out.
The ambulance took me to Beth Israel, and was talked out of my panic attack by a wonderful Doctor there in the E.R. room.
As many bad people that I've met during the worst parts of my panic attacks and development of panic disorder, I've met kind compassionate human beings as well.
I should be filling my mind with the positive memories ( sounds like a silly statement when remembering panic attacks) and positive people instead of just focusing on the uneducated angry sadistic people I've also encountered.
Speaking of positive people I went to see my psychiatrist again. He is wonderful. I feel so lucky to have found him. He knows about my situation and is charging me about 1/3 of what he normally charges. I expressed to him my concerns about Clonzopen. I told him I had weaned myself off of it. I told him I was learning to control my panic attacks now, and that I only wanted something lighter to take. I mentioned xanax.
Now that I've educated myself of Benzopines I do not want them in my blood stream non stop.I've said this before, and I'll say it again. Clozopine was a life safer in the worst stages - and gave me time to educate myself and probably nipped more panic attacks in the bud.
I want to have something for an emergency crisis...for a plane ride...in other words as a "just in case". So he prescribed me 60 for two months.
I haven't even felt the need to go to pharmacy and pick them up !
I did mention to him how depressed I was. Panic disorder and perhaps aftereffects of the Clozpen tapering it's self had lead me to feel worthless and depressed. I mean everyday for the past two months the tears just roll down my eyes.
He suggested an anti-depressant. Now for me to accept this and say yes was a big deal to me. I knew I needed to give something a try. I told him I wanted the least amount of medicine and my main concern was getting off of it. I never want to experience withdrawal symptoms again in my life!
I've set a guideline and will only be using this medication until things in my life settle down, and until my dad's estate is closed. He gave me a Lexapro sample that will last me for a month. So two days ago I started 5 milligrams of Lexapro per day. And I hate to admit this...but it's totally stopped that gear function in my mind that kick started the hyperventilation...and hampered any anticipatory anxiety from starting.
I have more to write about this tomorrow, and will be doing a journal of my experience with this medicine. I can't believe I am taking an anti-depressant. It is so against my beliefs - but oh well. Like my mom said,
"When you get a headache do you feel bad about taking an aspirin?"
No
"Well then why do you feel bad about taking an antidepressant if you really need it?"
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
New Blog
I've started my new blog! Yeaaaaa. New beginning. I am happy to say that I really believe I have the panic under control. I still have hyperventilation problems that sneak in during the day - but I have been able to control them. I found that concentrating or meditating with all my focus on another part of my body - for example my little toe , or my the back of my elbow, surprisingly helps nipping the hyperventilation from starting. It's so hard to explain - but I literally feel like there is a switch in the back of my nose that turns on and off. Before that would start the panic attack. Now it only has power to start the hyperventilation.. . .
The factors that were creating the panic and stress are all but gone - for the most part.
My son is doing well in his new school and has only received one detention. A far cry from being a Hispanic assassin who was getting detentions everyday. I'll never forget the "honey mustard" detention. The one he got b/c he got up during lunch. He's been so resilient. He would have done better in school if his mom had been more there for him. But these past months were just terrible :(.
Hopefully my dad's estate will have some closure as well. I did some brainstorming this past weeks and called up the same clerk of court who told me I would need to be bonded for the amount of money left in the state. There is no way I would be able to that - but I called her back and asked her what would happen if my sister and I were both co-representatives. BINGO! She said in that case we would only need a nominal surtey bond of only three hundred dollars.
The living situation is better. I am staying with a nice older Buddhist lady, and a friend of mine heard about my situation. She is leaving her rent stabilized apartment b/c she's moving back to Europe for good. So I will paying 725 for a two bedroom in a nice part of town. Plus she's leaving all her furniture which I am buying for next to nothing. Unheard of! I am excited to have a room for myself and room for my son.
Anyways ....I went to see my psychiatrist today ..and he talked me into something. And I said YES.... I told him how sad and depressed I was feeling and that I was obbsessing about the event that started my panic disorder and the events surrounding me trying to get help with it. That it not my normal way of being pre Panic Attacks/Disorder.
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I am only going to try it for three months ..I told him about how difficult it had been to get of the Clonzopine ...and well...I'll talk about that later...I'm tired of that subject today.
The factors that were creating the panic and stress are all but gone - for the most part.
My son is doing well in his new school and has only received one detention. A far cry from being a Hispanic assassin who was getting detentions everyday. I'll never forget the "honey mustard" detention. The one he got b/c he got up during lunch. He's been so resilient. He would have done better in school if his mom had been more there for him. But these past months were just terrible :(.
Hopefully my dad's estate will have some closure as well. I did some brainstorming this past weeks and called up the same clerk of court who told me I would need to be bonded for the amount of money left in the state. There is no way I would be able to that - but I called her back and asked her what would happen if my sister and I were both co-representatives. BINGO! She said in that case we would only need a nominal surtey bond of only three hundred dollars.
The living situation is better. I am staying with a nice older Buddhist lady, and a friend of mine heard about my situation. She is leaving her rent stabilized apartment b/c she's moving back to Europe for good. So I will paying 725 for a two bedroom in a nice part of town. Plus she's leaving all her furniture which I am buying for next to nothing. Unheard of! I am excited to have a room for myself and room for my son.
Anyways ....I went to see my psychiatrist today ..and he talked me into something. And I said YES.... I told him how sad and depressed I was feeling and that I was obbsessing about the event that started my panic disorder and the events surrounding me trying to get help with it. That it not my normal way of being pre Panic Attacks/Disorder.
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I am only going to try it for three months ..I told him about how difficult it had been to get of the Clonzopine ...and well...I'll talk about that later...I'm tired of that subject today.
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