Something’s Gotta Give
Well, my second to last appointment with the nurse practitioner she suggested I go off the Lamictal gradually (which is why we she prescribed them in pills of 50 mg) on my own. Every two or three weeks, go down 50 mg. I go to her this last appointment and she asks me how I felt being off Lamictal, and I was like, “What?”
She goes, “Huh, guess the Lamictal made you forget about what we talked about.” So we/she decided at my last meeting that I would just stay at the levels that I was at and she’d see in me in like three months. Turns out, I had some insurance information come in and had to do some insurance changing around. At one point, we investigated what the pills would cost out of pocket, when it looked like I might not have insurance. The Lamictal came out to be about $900 a month.
It was at this point I thought, “If I don’t have insurance, then, this might just be the sign telling me to get off Lamictal.” This had been a goal for the practitioner and me for a while. So for the next two months I lowered my Lamictal down 50 mg at a time until I finally got to where I am now.
And it sucks.
This was not how I imagined being off my medication would feel like. Of course, I’m not fully off all my medication, I still take an anti-depressant and an anti-psychotic. But, lately, it just seems like life… is pointless.
I don’t really know where to begin. It’s absolutely confounding. I get super angry and then I’m in a foul angry mood for hours and hours, this has happened in at least three days in a row, but also over the last three weeks. Imagine being in a bad fight with your significant other, and then imagine it lasting seven hours straight. It’s awful!
And what am I mad at? I’m mad at myself. Many years ago, as I’ve written about in previous times, I was under the delusion that I was smaller and inferior to others. That I was stunted somehow and not the same as everyone else. I saw I ‘was’ under the delusion, but emotionally, I’m still ‘under’ this delusion. That’s just how the world seems sometimes, and it’s frightening to say it, but it’s true.
It seems to me I’ve been on a downhill trajectory for a while, and I’ve gotten into really bad habits. For the last three days, starting at about four I get so angry and just become perma-angry. I was so angry last night that I was grunting and making animal noises in the bedroom and banging my head hard against the dresser. Maus decided I had to go to the crisis center. They didn’t intake me, but I’ve ended up seeing a different nurse practitioner and tomorrow I’m seeing a therapist.
It all seemed to start when I was trying consciously to be an artist, like a comic book artist. It got to the point that I couldn’t ‘be creative’, whatever that means, without inducing an anxiety attack. Everything just started being a block, I was blocked in all sorts of directions. I couldn’t ‘be creative’ and it’s sapped me.
It was because I was trying so hard. And it’s because I try to force it so hard. It’s like, my brain is flexing all the time, as if my consciousness is flexing all the time and there’s no chance of relaxation. I’m not imaginative anymore, I’m not creative, and everything overwhelms me. And when I think of doing anything at all I think I’m just this malformed little pile of nothing that nobody cares about and nobody likes.
I feel completely disempowered, like I’m just destined to fail at everything, and that everything I come up with is ‘stupid’. I can’t sit down and draw a picture, I can’t come up with new things to program, I just sleep all day. That’s the other thing, I sleep all the time now because nothing else seems worth doing.
I have convinced myself I have no impact on anyone outside of my mother and Maus. I’m spiraling into this funk where I can’t be creative, I can’t consider anything, I don’t have a schedule, I can’t do anything to help myself in any way whatsoever.
Part of this comes from feeling unworthy in the sense that I don’t make my own money. I don’t have a job and I don’t have my own money, and it seems like nothing I come up with is any good or will be any good (whether it is or it isn’t doesn’t matter) and that there’s nothing I can do to add to my life in any way whatsoever.
I can’t make a fursuit, cause I suck. I can’t program a website, I’m stupid and a pile of nothing. Nobody would care about any of those two things if I did, which is why I can’t make a game either: nobody would play it.
It’s maddening, and it pisses me off. Then I’m pissed off that I’m pissed off. I have reduced myself to this pile of neuroticism plagued by inferiority, and believing myself incapable of doing anything. Anything! Other people can go out and accomplish things, other people can do things and build upon stuff and better their lives. I just suck, and everything I do is crap.
That’s how I feel. I’m worth nothing.
And I hate it. I hate myself and I hate having to exist with such passion that I just lay there hating myself and lashing out at my partner for hours on end. He’s getting to the point that he can’t take it anymore, if I can’t shape up one way or another he has told me he won’t be able to live with me. I’ll have to move home or go to the hospital, because he just can’t take it anymore.
And throughout it all, I just don’t care. I’m just fucking pissed off! Nothing is worth doing anything, and everything devolves into an anxiety filled pile of nothing. It irritates me to even talk about it. I don’t feel pain, I don’t feel sadness, all I feel is anger all the time.
So, that’s why I saw the nurse practitioner, but instead of putting me back on a mood stabilizer, she’s decided to reduce my Zyprexa down so that I am not as sleepy. Then we’ll talk about a stabilizer. I don’t know if that’s going to work, because, mainly I’m sleeping because there’s nothing fucking better to do. Everything I do is shit, at least, that’s how I feel.
I honestly feel like I have no worth, I have no impact, I might as well be a fucking ghost, and there’s nothing I can do to change anything about my life. At least that’s what I feel like and what I am angry about. It’s just all this anger. It’s boiled down to just anger at myself, total absolute hatred of anything that has to do with me.
I know I haven’t really been writing much about my own feelings and thoughts through my daily life, and that’s because it’s been filled with this bullshit and I don’t really think I need to sling crap out there in some strange desire to illicit some kind of weird response. No, I don’t really care, so it doesn’t really matter. I want to just scream at myself because I am so angry, and honestly, I’m discovering telling people is having no effect, I’m still pissed off. I hate myself, I hate everything.
Only in moments where I finally just get worn out, and when take Ativan, do my symptoms of anger seem to dissipate. I’m in this strange place where I don’t believe anything I say about myself, or anything anybody says about me, there’s just nothing there. I’m just nothing. I look back o myself and try to take stock, without anger, and I just find nothing. There’s nothing there… and I hate it.
I had a friend one time who quoted somebody somewhere that said “anybody can survive a crisis, it’s the day to day living that kills us.” And that’s kinda it. The day to day, day in and day out, how do I deal with my mundane life that just is killing me, and there doesn’t seem to be any center, any button, any one thing that can push my consciousness one way or another.
I’m just small, stupid, and deformed.
Nothing I ever do will ever amount to anything.
I feel like I’m come full circle, and that I’m experiencing what I was experiencing before when I was super super depressed, except this time without the obsessions and total emotional short-circuiting. I’ve gotten no where, I haven’t gotten better. I’m just a beta-male, I’m just nothing. I’m just a pile of nothing, and it pisses me off!
Everything pisses me off!