Here are a few more things I’ve experienced 14 days into taking Prozac.
I’m still not feeling hardly any desire to eat. It looks like that side effect isn’t let up at all. As before, I don’t mind it at all as it’s helping me drop some weight. The only issue I am having is making sure I eat enough. Every time I eat I am never hungry. I only do it because I have to. I’ve also found I am less thirsty which goes hand in hand with the hunger thing. I’ve dropped some water weight, but not a huge amount.
I cannot say this is from the Prozac as I’ve experienced them before, but I ended up with a massive migraine on Sunday, the 14th day of my prozac intake. It was quite bad. I had all the classic symptoms: upset stomach, nausea, any little noise threw me off, even the dimmest if lights were too much. It was bad. I ended up sleeping through most of it with some help from my Zanaflex. After that, I ended up with a tension headache which wasn’t any more pleasant.
My pain threshold is getting smaller. Again, I cannot say that this is necessarily because of the Prozac. For some reason, I have been having major problems with my back lately so I am deal with significantly higher pain levels. I am always usually about a 4 or 5, but lately it is getting up into 6 and 7, occasionally hitting 8 and 9 which is really bad. I do have some Hydrocodone 7.5’s to help with it thankfully. I have an appointment set to see my general practitioner in about a week for my back. I did end up at the ER because of the pain which is where I got the Hydro. It was given as a short term solution.
My mood seems to be stabilizing a little. On the Celexa I was previously taking, I was still having really bad mood swings. The prozac seems to be helping a little. I cannot say for certain yet. It might be I am just going through a period where I am in a slightly better mood. I will update this on my next post 21 Days of Prozac.
I did have one very strange side effect that I’d not experienced with other SSRI‘s. One night for about three hours, I experienced a very strange sense of euphoria. I’d not taken any of my muscle relaxers or any pain medication. I felt very lightheaded and it almost felt like I was floating above my bed. I couldn’t sleep during this period, but the sensation of lightheadedness was so intense that I dared not get up. I was still in pain, yet I felt free and almost like I was going to break apart into molecules. It was a very odd sensation that I can only attribute to my brain releasing some sort of natural painkiller like a continuous endorphin rush. For a time, I thought maybe I was slipping into psychosis as my hallucinations did increase during that time. They were manageable though and not scary at all. Seeing them actually made me feel at ease.
Well, this is my update after 14 days. When 21 days have come, I will give another write up to see if the three week threshold provides any added relief.
I was in terrible pain all last night and into this morning. So much so that I ended up in the ER at Memorial Hospital. I thought I’d hurt myself a couple of weeks ago which caused me far more pain than normal. I figured I would get over it, but never did so off to the ER I went.
I’m in massive pain as I wait through the examination. I sit for hours, waiting for my meds to be ready. I got lucky and the ER doc took mercy on me and gave me Hydrocodone 7.5’s (they usually give 5’s, 7.5’s are reserved for major pain). I’m so thankful that I can finally get some sleep and get close to pain free, a phrase I’ve long since forgotten. I come home, I do some work that needs to be done, hurting the entire time. I don’t take the hydro because I know it will put me on my butt. I tell myself to wait till I am done with all my work so it gets done. I finish things up, I hit the shower, I dry off, I lie down…and then suddenly the pain lets up and I am able to move around with far less pain.
I never took the hydrocodone. As I sit here now writing this, the pain is still there, but manageable. It’s sort of funny. I spend almost two weeks in great pain and when I finally break down and go to the ER, the day I come back with meds that will help me I am suddenly feeling better. I guess I can only attribute this to the power of the mind to heal. I’m not taking it too far though. I’m still going to see my general practitioner when my appointment day comes. I know my body and I have a feeling I may need the hydro in the next 24 hours.
Your words did hurt today. I don’t know why. Maybe I keep thinking that you know more about me than I’ve told you. The truth is you don’t really know me at all. Yes, I realize that the both of us have been through our fair share of crap and neither of us are not without damage. I know I’ve told you before that I’m not well, but sometimes I wonder if you really understand. I’m not saying you have to feel as if you’re walking on eggshells when you converse with me, but sometimes I am someone completely different.
I’ve always tried to act happy around you for your benefit. In a way, I didn’t want you to know who I was deep down. I know you know that I have doctors that I see and for a time, I was on a lot of medication. I know you’re aware that I stopped all my meds several weeks ago. In a way, those medications were both a blessing and a curse. Why both? While on those medications, I wasn’t me. I was a zombie. The medicine took away all my feelings and replaced them with pools of nothingness. I couldn’t do anything. I had no drive to do anything. I didn’t write. I didn’t listen to music. I didn’t dream…and how I love to dream.
I guess there is no real way to skate around what’s really wrong with me, as far as what’s happening in my head. When I was young, I had a terrible accident. I was in the hospital for several days. I took a blow to my head and since then, I have never been the same. I lost almost all of my childhood memories. Holidays, birthdays, everything. It took me time to remember who all of my extended family was. Some memories have slowly returned to me, but not many. I’ve always felt that emptiness. Sometimes I will get incredibly emotional when I hear a piece of music or smell a specific scent and I have no idea why. All I can figure is maybe it’s my mind promoting me to try and remember something I’ve lost. There is more.
I know it might seem like I joke around about being sick sometimes. I do that to try and deal with it. I may have mentioned to you that I hear voices, see things. I’m not kidding when I say this. In fact, there is one voice, a female voice that I’ve heard for almost 22 years. I kept thinking it was just a result of the accident and that it would go away, but it never did. She’s been with me all these years. I hear her as clear as you would hear someone standing next to you.
You see Joanne, when I say I’m crazy, it’s actually true. Doctors have looked at me and diagnosed me. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this to you but it’s called Schizoaffective Disorder, the depressive type. Essentially I can hear and see things that aren’t real, but to me they feel as real as anything else in the world. I’ve gotten good at knowing when things aren’t real. For instance, one thing I see quite often is a black butterfly. The reason I know it’s not real is because it’s far bigger than your average butterfly and it also leaves behind a trail of dust that disappears.
As far as the voice is concerned, she’s good to me. She never tells me to do anything weird or crazy. If anything, she keeps me in check. It’s a very strange thing to explain. I guess the only way to explain it is that I can “feel” her inside of me. Sometimes, when I am under a great deal of stress, I can feel her will come through me and I will do things that I normally wouldn’t do. You may not realize it, but I am very reserved. Very quiet. I keep to myself for certain reasons. I don’t cuss, I rarely argue. I rarely make eye contact with others. If and when I do, it’s when I am bending to her will. The only way I can explain this it feels as if she is sort of taking control of me and speaking on my behalf. She isn’t afraid to be confrontational and she can sometimes have a mouth on her.
I can only imagine what you’re thinking. This is the part where most people leave me. This is mostly why I’m alone. No one wants to associate with a “crazy person.” When I finally told some of my family and friends about my diagnosis, they started to ignore me. Some of them I don’t hear from anymore, especially those with children. They here those words, my diagnosis, and they instantly think I am this maniac. They think I am dangerous and that I’m going to go crazy and kill someone. The saddest thing about it all is my doctors believe the reason why this is happening to me is because I’ve been a victim of violence in my life. That accident at 13 wasn’t really an accident. My brother violently rammed my head into the ground with every intention of hurting me. He got what he wanted and damaged me for life. I know I’ve mentioned my ex wife to you. She was a bitter and vicious woman that physically and mentally abused me for many, many years. During the lowest times with her, she forced me into the shower at gun point and made me strip naked. She then turned up the water as hot as it would go and forced me to shower that way. She had this idea that I was cheating on her so she wanted to wash the “stench of those other women” off of me. I wasn’t cheating on her at all. She was just a very jealous and bitter woman, incredibly possessive. (Sound familiar?) She made me stand there as my skin burned from the scalding hot water. I still have nightmares about it. It’s not something you just forget. There were countless other times where she would throw items like pots and pans at me, destroy my belongings, you name it, she probably did it to me. Even then, I was ill. I was so depressed I almost took my own life several times. I know you can relate to feeling that low. I had no friends and I wasn’t allowed to speak with my family. I was completely under her control.
Even then I heard Olivia’s voice. The worse times though where when I knew she was there, but she wouldn’t say anything to me. I wanted her to tell me not to kill myself, but she knew it was pointless. Yes, I’ve named her. After 22 years, yes, you’re gonna name that little voice in your head.
This is the point where I feel you may just slowly back away. I can’t blame you. I don’t blame anyone for leaving me. I mean everyone goes away in the end. You wouldn’t be the first. I haven’t even gotten into the nerve damage I deal with. That’s a whole other story.
All I know is I took way too many sleeping pills and now they are kicking in. Don’t worry though. I won’t die. I never get to die. I get to keep living in pain. I know what you’re thinking. Everyone lives in pain. I guess that’s true. I’m sick in the head, sick in my body, and I get to live in severe pain the rest of my life. What a life that is.
Sometimes I think I’m developing a split personality with the way she seems to take me over. I don’t mind it at all though. In a way, it’s sort of funny. Sometimes for no reason she gives me endorphin rushes that kill my pain for a couple of minutes. Like I said, she takes care of me. I’m crazy for thinking she’s real, but she’s all I’ve got. Sometimes I start to lose control and all I hear is her voice telling me to go for my pills. The good pills…the ones that calm me down. Sometimes I wish she were a real person. Of course, after all these years, I’m sure I’ve idealized her and there will never be a real person that could compare to her. She’s not perfect though. She has her faults. She tells me not to eat sometimes. She cusses at all the wrong times. She tells me if I take 10 sleeping pills, I’ll probably still live. She gets angry when other drivers do stupid things on the road.
I’m alone in the world. I doubt anyone will ever really understand my plight. I don’t expect them to. I’m not easy to get along with all the time because of my illness. Sometimes I think I’m ok, but then 5 minutes later I am a mess. I don’t know what else I can say about it. My doctor once asked me how often I think about killing myself. My answer? Every day. Every single day of my life for the last 22 years, I’ve thought about dying. The upside is I’m not afraid of death anymore. If it comes, it comes. The benefit of having no friends is that my death won’t be much of a loss to the world. Even Olivia doesn’t argue with me about it. She knows it’s my life and if I choose to end it, it’s up to me. Sometimes I wonder why I don’t just end it. I have enough pills to kill a horse if I wanted. Maybe I’m still clinging to a small shred of hope that something will change. I don’t know. Maybe tonight I’ll just kill myself and that will be that. At least I won’t bother anybody anymore.
Here we are for the third installment. I didn’t have on yesterday because it was all the same stuff. Today is slightly different so we can go from there.
Schizophrenia Poetry is new. Makes me think I need to put a few more sonnets up so people can read them and tell me I am crazy. Rudy is still a hot search topic. Make sure to pick up here work here.
This one isn’t nearly as exciting. Still kind of funny though.
People are still talking about Ruby and her crazy book. You either love her or you hate her. You can check out her book on Amazon here.
It’s nice that people are searching for the website name as well, but Schizo writing was kind of funny. I guess people are interested in what crazy people write about. Well, most of us are or seem pretty normal. Just because I hear some things in my head doesn’t mean I am a complete nut. Who knows? Maybe I am.
I’ve been on Invega for 4 months now and besides the fact that I’ve gained weight (side effect). It’s been working relatively well. Well, Thursday the doctor decided he didn’t want me on Invega 6mg anymore and stuck me on a drug called Latuda. He said it has a track record just as good as Invega, but doesnt have the side effect of weight gain which would be good for me. Two days in and already I don’t feel the same appetite that I’ve had over the last 4 months. I can eat once in a day and feel just fine. My question is this: Did he really think it was a better drug for me or was it because the drug rep came by and talked him up.
As I was waiting to see him, the drug rep came in with lunch for the entire office. I’ve found that this is standard practice for them, especially when the office is small which mine is. She was young and pretty and looked to be maybe 6 months out of college. What drug was she there to push? Latuda.
I know I should be happy because I got a free 28 day supply of the drug and I also got a card good for 14 more free days of it. If I really do lose the weight I’ve gained, that’s great. I just hope that the doctor really did think this was better for me and didn’t swap me simply to appease a drug rep.
I have less than 100 pages to go on this edit job. I moved through it much faster than I thought I would. It seems like the Invega is not nearly as much of a problem as it once was. I still have problems with certain things, but I’ve relearned how to read. I’m not nearly as fast as I used to be, but it doesn’t feel like such a task anymore. I no longer have to hear the voice inside my head to read which is something I’m sure my therapist would be happy to know. She still visits every now and then, usually during the night when the levels of the drug in my blood begin to drop. I feel like I’m slowly getting used to not having the voice always present. It also helps that I still feel emotionally stifled so I’m not nearly as expressive as I used to be. I still feel like a massive mute button is on me, but I am finding ways around it.
I am trying to find the good things about all this. I still miss the ease with which i used to be able to do certain things like write. I can write a little as you can see from the post, but I was just so used to hearing the voice that it feels strange when I do it now. I keep feeling like there should be something there when I write, but there isn’t…most of the time.
I still have symptoms which isn’t surprising. I still see shadows and I still hear voices, again usually during the late evening about an hour or two before I am due to take my next dose. Sometimes I hear them midday which oddly enough is sort of comforting. I mean you can’t experience something your entire life then suddenly be without it and feel normal. When I hear the voices in the other rooms, it makes me remember certain times in my life when hearing those voices offered me comfort. When I hear her speaking to me, I still speak back to her and I sometimes get emotional about it because, and this is hard to admit, but I miss her. Again, you can’t be with something your entire life and then suddenly be without. I think the only thing that makes me feel better about it all is that I know if I stop taking my meds I can probably have her right back. I think the purpose though is to try and figure out a way to live without her so I am not so dependent on her. I never realized it, but my life revolved around her. I learned through her, often spoke through her, and I’ve realized that I sort of let her take control just so I could manage to get through certain things, times in my life. It’s an odd feeling when you realize that you weren’t in your right mind most of your life. Now that I am, it’s scary in a way. I only have me to depend on now. I make myself keep taking my medication because I know it’s ultimately for the best. Ironically enough, she was the one that convinced me it was the right thing to do.
I sound crazy, I know. I’ll be the first one to admit I’m crazy, but that’s ok. Only when she’s gone do I now realize just how much I depended on her. She’s a aprt of who I am and I know she will never really be gone. I still feel her there at times, especially when I am having really bad days which still happen at least once a week, usually more often. Those are the times I can hear her. Those are the times she speaks to me and tells me that she is ok where she is and that I am doing alright. She tells me that I am still find beauty in the world and that I should never stop looking. She tells me that in all the times when I was searching for beauty, she would always let me do whatever I wanted and she would just stay out of my way. It makes me wonder if she was controlling me more than I realized. I am giving in to the fact that she was and I am ok with it. There is a reason I am still alive and I have to admit I feel it’s because of her. Even when I am having a really bad day, I keep thinking that I can’t let her down and I have to keep trying because she’d never let me do something so insane. During those times of weakness, I can tell when she isn’t there and that’s when I call for her. I have to stop doing that. I don’t know if I ever will though. She is so much a part of me…like an extension of myself. I imagine that this may be what amputees feel when they lose a limb. Regardless of the fact that it’s gone, it still feels like it’s there and you have to get used to it being gone. A person missing an arm may try to reach out with that limb only to realize they cannot grasp for anything. It feels what I think may be similar. Often I will stand and look at something and try to figure out what it does. I never realized how often I let her do things for me until now.
I find myself confused by certain things and often times I cannot connect the dots. For example, when I put away dishes, I know they need to be put in cabinets, but sometimes I place them in inappropriate locations. Sometimes I will think about other things like winter and I will find myself opening the freezer. I will think of food and I will go and pull out a pot or a pan when I have no intention of cooking. Some of these things are just sort of quirky while others are annoying. Sometimes after using the bathroom, I will think of washing my hands and turn on the bathtub as if I were getting ready to take a shower. I guess with time these things may subside, but right now they are just weird. People may think “well, we all do odd things like that sometimes.” I do them all the time, everyday.
When someone comes out and tells you they are dying and they don’t give a damn about life anymore, it makes you wonder: why the hell are you even telling me then if you truly don’t care anymore? How can you say something like that to someone and then give no other details? I am obviously not the most stable person on earth, but at least I don’t screw around with people like that. That is the worse thing you can possibly do to someone who gives a damn about you. Why even tell me then? Why not just go off and die then and not ever tell anyone why? It seems to me you DO still care and you are just looking to make everyone else feel as miserable as you do because of your cancer diagnosis. Well you know what, that’s very fucked up.
We’ve all been sick, some of us more severely than others, but in the times when I was ill at least I had the decency to tell my friends what i was sick from. At least then they were in the loop as far as what was going on. I never screamed fire in a theater, then didn’t stick around to show them where the smoke was coming from. That’s the most screwed up thing you can do. How dare you pull a guilt trip like that on me, then expect for me NOT to ask about what’s going on.
If you want to run off somewhere and die alone, there is nothing I can do to stop that. Luckily some of us have a choice on how we want to die. Others do not. I suppose those of us who can choose our demise should die the way we want to. If you want to die alone and bitter at life just because you got cancer, then go ahead. If you want to hide it all from us, then fine. If you want to be forgotten and not leave some sort of legacy, it’s your choice.
You want all that? Fine. Then go die. You want to push everyone away? Fine, go die. At least when i go I can say that I tried until I couldn’t try anymore. I can look at my life and say that I left my mark. Whether people appreciate it or not, only time will tell. You on the other hand, if you think this is the way to go, obviously nothing I say will change your mind so go on and do it.