I am lost right now. My medications have been reduced to almost nothing, and for those of you who live with mental illness and require them, you understand how this feels.
I was to undergo a sleep study last week for narcolepsy, finally.Apparently you’re not allowed to be on certain medications while you undergo sleep studies because they can give false results. Whatever. So, I had to begin the fun task of titrating down off of my anti-D and Vyvanse. I say titrate, but really, it wasn’t very slow. They cut me in half for a week, then cut me off. I crashed and I crashed hard. I don’t believe it was a result of just the meds, but a combination of the medications plus, my shit life.
I began burning again, I missed work, slept all day, stayed up all night, and now I’m back to splitting again in my relationships. A lot of black and white thinking occurring over here! Some serious depression happening, which is bringing out my my BPD symptoms. I feel isolated, alone, and like no one cares. I’m picking fights with Chris. I’m abandoning my few acquaintances I do have on Facebook, just because I don’t think they’re reaching out to me. I even began abusing my Klonopin again. Spiral down wardssssss.
I found out a few days after visiting the doctor that they did not accept the clinic I went to, so my appointment would be pushed to April 30th. Yep, I am now going to have to wait. So, what about my medications? Well, the nurses couldn’t answer that question. I made several calls to find out and it took 4 days to finally get an answer: I was to take 50mg of my anti-D (I normally take 150mg) and do not resume the Vyvanse. 4 days prior to the study, stop taking the anti-D. YAY!
Today is the 19th and I missed work, I haven’t showered in two days, and I’m crying over everything. I have zero motivation, I’m apathetic, and I’m pretty much pissy. I just want a hug, but I want it from the people who aren’t here to give one to me. I want, I want, I want what I cannot and will not get/have.
I feel so utterly shitty and alone. I want someone to pet my hair and treat me like a sick 7 year old. I want a caring mother. I want to lay in bed and be loved and listen to music and eat junk and whine and do what I WANT.
No stress. No worry on my mind.
Instead, I have to act like I’m not mentally fucked. I have to act like I’m not disappointed that people aren’t acting concerned. I have to pretend, like always. I’m tired of it.