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.
