jca
15-02-12, 00:21
I have been living with obsessive compulsive disorder, paranoia, and panic (untreated) for the past 13 years. In my late teens and early twenties, I self medicated with alcohol, drugs, self abuse and self mutilation. One day, I randomly got a job that became my life. I decided to just quit the alcohol and drugs and self abuse and mutilation, and I haven't returned to any of it since, except for recreational alcohol.
I have a small circle of friends and an even smaller circle of family that I interact with. They are all familiar with my "special baggage", as some refer to it as. I am constantly counting, but never passed the number eight. Just one through eight, over and over. I count just the numbers sometimes, and sometimes I count drive ways or white vehicles, and every night I count breaths. In between every thought there is constant counting. This is something I have done for 13 years and I like it.
I need constant reassurance, about everything. When I am at work, I text/call/email with home to make sure it isn't on fire and that nothing is left on. When I am at home, or just away from work in general, I call on the hour every hour (of awake time) and once during sleep time (an alarm is set) to make sure the hotel (where I work) isn't on fire. If I do not believe that the desk clerk walked the entire property smelling for smoke, I will drive to the hotel and check myself. I live one mile from work on purpose.
There are so many more things I could tell about myself. But I want to get to my current situation... About six months ago I started having PMS symptoms. I had never had PMS in all my woman years. It was mild at first. Some physical discomfort and some irritability. It would come two weeks before my period and last around 8 to 10 days. Each month, it would get a little worse and last a little longer. This month, it started as always, two weeks before my period start date. It lasted a full 14 days. The irritability was at an all time high. Anything anyone said to me was the most stupid thing possible and I would let them know. I became violent at times; breaking a mirror, a coffee cup, a bulletin board, punching a dent into a wall, and kicking a cat. I have NEVER been a violent person. Most of these were infront of people (mostly at work) and on top of doing these things I was always verbally abusive and mean. I thought the weirdest thoughts, too. I was never, and have never been, suicidal, but during those two weeks I thought things like "if I committed suicide, how many people would be surprised and how many would say they saw it coming". I didn't want to die, but I couldn't stop thinking about it.
When I woke up on the 15th day, which was three days ago. I felt nothing but guilt. I called many people to apologize but all the calls had to end quickly because the irritability and anger towards other people had yet to leave my system. I cried for hours. How in the world could I ever get the point of so much anger that I would punt a cat like a football?! I should be in jail for that! (The cat is doing fine and will even come say hello to me still, the neighbors forgave me).
I have never had a doctor that I see more than once. I searched my insurance website to find a new provider. I got lucky and was able to get an appointment set up the same day I called.. yesterday. I spoke a long time on the phone with the physicians assistant that I would be seeing for my appointment. I told her about my obsessive journaling in general conversation when telling her how I currently deal with stress. She asked me to bring in my journals when I came.
I lost it in the appointment. My friends and family never seem to take anything I go through very seriously because I usually treat anything with humor myself. Hearing me say the things I've been going through out loud to a stranger, and the concern on her face, made it look very different. She told me she thought it was PMDD, and we looked up the definition together, and that's me all the way. She says that medication (fluoxetine/prozac-and many others like it) is the only proven way to "treat" pmdd. We then discussed how it would help me with my other set backs, like my inability to make left hand turns while driving/riding in a car, my obsessive journaling and counting. But then I lost it again. I don't want to let go of most of the things I do. They don't hurt me, they help me. I am less likely to be in a car accident by not taking left hand turns. And well, I'm not really sure about the counting but I like it. She then looked at my journals, saying they could probably help her understand what a day feels like for me. After discovering that my journals are filled with numbers, she kind of made a weird face and moved on....
I picked up the pills she prescribed and stared at them for hours. I decided to sleep on it. I took the first one 6 hours ago. I have already convinced myself that the pill is causing hallucinations. I am at work and it feels like a strange place I've never been before. I feel stoned (like on pot) and paranoid. I have snapped at 8 of the last 10 people I've spoken to. Doctors have tried to convince me to take medication for years. Pills have scared me though. They could change who I am completely, and I don't dislike all of me.
I'm writing this while I wait for someone to come replace me at work. I am hallucinating. Could Fluoxetine be having side effects this soon? Maybe I am just a tad crazy? I am not sure what to do. I don't know if i will take the second pill tomorrow.
I'm here because I want to have people I can talk to about my weird habits and feelings and thoughts. My small circle of friends and family seems to have shrunk in the last two weeks and I know that they don't understand so I can't stop yelling and being mean to them. I need a better outlet so that I am not destroying all of my relationships.
I have a small circle of friends and an even smaller circle of family that I interact with. They are all familiar with my "special baggage", as some refer to it as. I am constantly counting, but never passed the number eight. Just one through eight, over and over. I count just the numbers sometimes, and sometimes I count drive ways or white vehicles, and every night I count breaths. In between every thought there is constant counting. This is something I have done for 13 years and I like it.
I need constant reassurance, about everything. When I am at work, I text/call/email with home to make sure it isn't on fire and that nothing is left on. When I am at home, or just away from work in general, I call on the hour every hour (of awake time) and once during sleep time (an alarm is set) to make sure the hotel (where I work) isn't on fire. If I do not believe that the desk clerk walked the entire property smelling for smoke, I will drive to the hotel and check myself. I live one mile from work on purpose.
There are so many more things I could tell about myself. But I want to get to my current situation... About six months ago I started having PMS symptoms. I had never had PMS in all my woman years. It was mild at first. Some physical discomfort and some irritability. It would come two weeks before my period and last around 8 to 10 days. Each month, it would get a little worse and last a little longer. This month, it started as always, two weeks before my period start date. It lasted a full 14 days. The irritability was at an all time high. Anything anyone said to me was the most stupid thing possible and I would let them know. I became violent at times; breaking a mirror, a coffee cup, a bulletin board, punching a dent into a wall, and kicking a cat. I have NEVER been a violent person. Most of these were infront of people (mostly at work) and on top of doing these things I was always verbally abusive and mean. I thought the weirdest thoughts, too. I was never, and have never been, suicidal, but during those two weeks I thought things like "if I committed suicide, how many people would be surprised and how many would say they saw it coming". I didn't want to die, but I couldn't stop thinking about it.
When I woke up on the 15th day, which was three days ago. I felt nothing but guilt. I called many people to apologize but all the calls had to end quickly because the irritability and anger towards other people had yet to leave my system. I cried for hours. How in the world could I ever get the point of so much anger that I would punt a cat like a football?! I should be in jail for that! (The cat is doing fine and will even come say hello to me still, the neighbors forgave me).
I have never had a doctor that I see more than once. I searched my insurance website to find a new provider. I got lucky and was able to get an appointment set up the same day I called.. yesterday. I spoke a long time on the phone with the physicians assistant that I would be seeing for my appointment. I told her about my obsessive journaling in general conversation when telling her how I currently deal with stress. She asked me to bring in my journals when I came.
I lost it in the appointment. My friends and family never seem to take anything I go through very seriously because I usually treat anything with humor myself. Hearing me say the things I've been going through out loud to a stranger, and the concern on her face, made it look very different. She told me she thought it was PMDD, and we looked up the definition together, and that's me all the way. She says that medication (fluoxetine/prozac-and many others like it) is the only proven way to "treat" pmdd. We then discussed how it would help me with my other set backs, like my inability to make left hand turns while driving/riding in a car, my obsessive journaling and counting. But then I lost it again. I don't want to let go of most of the things I do. They don't hurt me, they help me. I am less likely to be in a car accident by not taking left hand turns. And well, I'm not really sure about the counting but I like it. She then looked at my journals, saying they could probably help her understand what a day feels like for me. After discovering that my journals are filled with numbers, she kind of made a weird face and moved on....
I picked up the pills she prescribed and stared at them for hours. I decided to sleep on it. I took the first one 6 hours ago. I have already convinced myself that the pill is causing hallucinations. I am at work and it feels like a strange place I've never been before. I feel stoned (like on pot) and paranoid. I have snapped at 8 of the last 10 people I've spoken to. Doctors have tried to convince me to take medication for years. Pills have scared me though. They could change who I am completely, and I don't dislike all of me.
I'm writing this while I wait for someone to come replace me at work. I am hallucinating. Could Fluoxetine be having side effects this soon? Maybe I am just a tad crazy? I am not sure what to do. I don't know if i will take the second pill tomorrow.
I'm here because I want to have people I can talk to about my weird habits and feelings and thoughts. My small circle of friends and family seems to have shrunk in the last two weeks and I know that they don't understand so I can't stop yelling and being mean to them. I need a better outlet so that I am not destroying all of my relationships.