reports of my physical and mental breakdown have been greatly underexaggerated

[amand_r]

I don't think it's news to anyone that I'm an up and down person. I have mood swings, and until recently I have always gone with the flow. Back in February the anger end of those issues started to hinder relationships, so I tried to locate causes and tracking on a calendar, and lo and behold they were cyclical, like another cycle I have, go fig. Knowing that it was "that time of the month" for my anger issues had helped me to control that. That's fine.



A few weeks ago, I started to notice that I was developing a series of symptoms that I couldn't ignore. I was overbreathing, or rather, taking too many deep breaths, and it's pretty much, if I understand what I was being told, hyperventilating or something. I also developed a lump in my throat, like that lump you get before you start to cry? All the time.

I was convinced that I had cancer. My tongue was swollen in the back. I met resistance when I tried to breathe through my nose, even though I wasn't congested. I yawned excessively. All of this led me to believe something bad, but I wasn't sure what.

I figured that looking for things it would be on the net is about the dumbest thing you could do, so what I did to get around that was looking for things that it couldn't be. As in, it wasn't likely cancer because of other factors I didn't have, and it wasn't other diseases because of things that I didn't have. What I did find was that I was amassing a lit of strange symptoms that I hadn't though of that when all combined created a bizarre painting of my ailing body. LIKE HOUSE!

So here I present, what in the world is wrong with Amand-r? TMI, dudes

Overbreathing
Lump in throat that leaves when sleeping
Trouble sleeping (staying asleep)
Unexplained muscular soreness
Swollen tongue
Inflamed sinuses
Headaches
Exhaustion
Excessive yawning
Palpitations
Depression
Twitching muscles
Koilonychia (spoon-shaped nails) [I put this in here because I just discovered the word and the doctor confirmed it. Woot!]
Intermittent hives
Occasional upper lip swelling like allergies.
Pacing
Teeth grinding or jaw clenching (my dentist just told me that I do this recently. I'm wiggling my teeth in place and they get loose and then they rub at the gumline and erode the enamel. SHITBEARS.)

I am sure there are more. I can't remember them all. I had a list. It was ridic. All I knew was that it was probably stress/anxiety related, and by the time I went to see the doctor 2 weeks ago, I was a wreck who could barely breathe. He had me do a spirometer and gave me an EKG and then did what I thought he would: told me to take some iron and proscribed Prozac. I was told to see a therapist and get back to him.

He was a lot nicer about it than that, and I cried in his office and he was very good. I had also just learnt that I had no mental health coverage, so I was afraid he was going to prescribe something hideously expensive.

So, here I am, in week 2 of Prozac, feeling better, and that's probably not the drug entirely since it takes weeks to kick in, but just the fat that I did something made most of the anxiety symptoms go away. How insane is that?

My brain still isn't processing all of this properly, so the rest if what I wanted to say, numbered as I think of them:

1. About three weeks ago I had a frightening revelation that we are all going to die, regardless of whether we want to or not, and we never had any choice in the matter. You didn't ask to be brought into this world, and you're going to die. The sensation made my head pulse and I got this burning sensation that started in my legs and ran up my body and I had to go take a shower to distract myself. Even now I can't think about it too much. Distraction is good.

2. I'm looking at subbing in the fall, since the teaching market is shit. I like teaching. I really do. It's all the things I have to do with teaching that I don't like, but that's life. I'd like to go back to school, but everyone is going back to school. That's just one of those things you do when you don't know what to do, and I don't know if that would solve anything. I'd like to try my hand at writing. Which leads me to my next big thing—I can't write short stories. We'll get to that later.

You know what, though? When they ask older people what they regret the most, they say "not taking enough risks." I have the money. I'm going to write.

3. I'm being better to myself. I go to bed earlier. I don't read the internets as much. I write more as a result. Yay. I use lotion every day. I floss. I take a multivitamin religiously. I'm trying to exercise, but that's still hard. I'm looking into yoga classes. I have to fix the physical anxiety issues as well as attack the mental ones.

4. I went to see a therapist, and we're going to work on the thing, whatever it is. I was in there talking to him for about 30 minutes when out of the blue he asked me, "On a scale of 1 to 10, how guilty to you feel over your husband's death?" and I think I just lost it. So I guess you know, things. He also rather implied that I might be thinking about Tianyu's death a little too much, or rather, the whole issue of suicide. That may be true. I think maybe I looked at it from too many angles. I'm starting to get the suspicion that I overthink everything in my quest to understand it, and most people don't bother, possibly because it's not necessary.

So yeah, I dunno what I have been like for you all the past few months. I have felt as if every little thing irks me, when it didn't used to. I have felt like I can't do anything right, etc etc, that I am always wrong. You could have said, "Hey, nice ass, baby," and I would have thought that you wanted me to lose weight or stay in my house for the rest of my life. I dunno. The real Amand-r that I like to be is THE CAPSLOCK ONE OF JOY because that's who I genuinely am, people who have met me will attest, so hopefully I can find that person again, and not just intermittently.

LATER I WILL POST ABOUT MY INEPTNESS IN WRITING SHORT STORIES, BUT FOR NOW I LEAVE YOU WITH A TALE OF TRAGIC BOOB WOE: (men, you may leave now.)

Dudes, last week, I was making coffee in the morning, and the cup I wanted was on the upper shelf. I leaned up to get it and felt this sharp pain in my breasts, and sure enough, I was still in thin jammy shirt, and I had just leant into the coffee pot steam. It burned like a son of a bitch, and I actually leaned over the sink to run my breast under the cold water. LOL acrobatics. Anyway, it was sore and rubbed against the shirt and then when I put a bra on, it felt better because it was immobile. Then I forgot about it. Steam burns are just things you get and the skin is red and then there's no blistering and you feel raw for a day and then it's all-okay, at least for me.

So this week I'm I dunno, washing or something and I feel hardness on my breast. OMG, THE BURNS ACTUALLY SCABBED OVER. LIKE THEY WERE BURNT ENOUGH TO SCAB. WHAT THE SHIT IS THAT.

I guess the moral of the story is not to lean over hot steamy things, but OMG BURN SCARS ON BOOBS. WEEPZ.

Comments

[cthonus.livejournal.com]

I sit on "symptoms" and slowly start to panic until it gets to the stage I have to go see a doctor and get told to get lost and stop wasting his time.

Normally if I have someone else to worry about I concentrate on them and forget to go all hypochondriac. Last year my panic-substitute left so as usual my brain was oscillating between thinking about who I'm leaving the house to and knowing full well I was fine.

So to reset my worry clock I decided I'd get another doctor's appointment and be told to go away.

Guess what? He sent me for a blood test the next week.

So for the next six days I was worrying about what I was being tested for. Come the day I steeled myself for the worst and sat in a waiting room full of old and obviously sick people. Nurse came to get me and went through with prodding me with the needle then said it was all over.

I asked if I was being tested for blood cancer as the doctor hadn't explained anything. She almost laughed and said it was merely a routine test for blood sugar levels etc they do for everyone. I could have shot someone at that stage.

After that? I went home and started feeling progressively worse COS I'D PICKED UP SOME FUCKING VIRUS IN THE WAITING ROOM!!! Jeez...

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

I have to get bloodwork done, too, in fact mental note to do it tomorrow, but here, they tell you what they're looking for. Mine is a standard thyroid, cbc and other test. But blood tests are a good idea sometimes, and mine have never turned up anything bad, per se. Low calcium once.

I pretty much wen in there sure what was wrong with me, but I was almost relieved when he acknowledged that yeah, that was what was happening, my symptoms weren't just body tics, and we could do something about them.

Oh, and the not having cancer part. always nice to hear a doctor say that.

playing doctor

[elainasaunt.livejournal.com]

I just spotted another symptom: tagorrhea!

Sweetheart, with all those issues, you're still one of the awesomest people I know. I realize you've got lots closer friends here, and I know they've got your back, but hey - you ever need another private ear, let me know. Glad the proactiveness and Prozac are helping. OMG BURN SCARS ON BOOBS

Nope, not going there...

Rebecca

[noveldevice.livejournal.com]

I love you absurdly much for an imaginary friend. If there's anything I can do, let me know.

I know someone who calibrates his antidepressant according to how much existential angst he feels--if he's paralysed by his own mortality, he's underdosed, but if he doesn't lie awake for a few minutes before being able to fall asleep feeling overwhelmed by how small he is in the grand scheme of things, he needs to cut back a little.

Seriously. This was his therapist's advice after several years of being unable to calibrate a good dose by standard measures.

Anyway, I meant what I said. Love ya, man.

[paragraphs.livejournal.com]

I look at what you have soldiered through these last few months, and where you are at the writing of this post, and breath deeply and smile, and wanna smoosh you. Good progress. Long ways to go yet, but really really good.

I am laughing at your tags. Power lesbians?

I'd kiss your boo-boo but uh, okay never mind. Glad your uh boob is much better. Yeah.

Re: playing doctor

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

MY TAGS ARE AN ART FORM. ART, I SAY.

Thanks for the offer. I just feel better, and I like the idea of knowing what the problem is so that I can try to fix it, you know?

NO ONE WANTS NIPPLE SCABS. THAT IS WHAT I AM SAYING.

[cthonus.livejournal.com]

I think if they amalgamated the US and UK health policies things would be much better. Your side of the pond would get free medical treatment and our side would get better access to therapists. There's certainly a stigma here about admiting to seeing a psychologist/psychiatrist and there really shouldn't be.

[amonitrate.livejournal.com]

It sounds like you're doing a bunch to take care of yourself and I'm really glad. I know how hard even taking those steps can be for me, even making the calls and getting in the door, you know?

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

YOUR FRIEND IS MAJORLY AWESOME. I mean, I wouldn't do that, but yeah.

I just. Man, I think about it all, and I think I'm being thorough, and now maybe I actually mistake thoroughness for too much, and now that I've thought about it this much then I've overthought my overthinkiness.

Clearly this is a problem that must be solved with cake.

I MAKE A GREAT IMAGINARY FRIEND.

THOUGH SOMETIMES I MAKE A GOO CORPOREAL FRIEND BECAUSE I DO COOK A MEAN SPICY FISH.

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

OMG YOU HAVE SEEN ME BEING INSANE.

..I APOLOGISE TO YOU GREATLY.

POWER LESBIANS? IN MY VA-JAY-JAY?

Re: playing doctor

[elainasaunt.livejournal.com]

I like the idea of knowing what the problem is so that I can try to fix it, you know?

Oh, yeah. I do know.

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

Making the call was hard as fuck. I think seeing how many people have likewise issues the other week when I made that post in lj made me feel better about not being a total life failure. apparently there are massive numbers of us slackers.

[amonitrate.livejournal.com]

yeah, I do this every time I need to go to the doctor, let alone for mental health issues, which are worse. I think I have this thing where I assume they're not going to believe me about whatever it is I'm having a problem with so I procrastinate.

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

It's a lot more common here. I have been dealing with the whole issue of mental health in myself and others for almost 20 years, so I have long got over the whole stigma thing, and I don't see it often. It's just a thing. My husband died and I saw a therapist. I would have been bonkers not to, actually.

This one though, I do have to pay for myself. My health care used to cover mental health, but my new plan doesn't. But you don't have to wait to see one, and that's a plus.

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

I MAKE A LIST. I HAD A PIECE OF PAPER WITH SYMPTOMS ON IT, AND THEN LIKE THREE POST IT NOTES WITH MORE SYMPTOMS ALL SCRIBBLED ON. PLUS I KEPT RUBBING MY PALMS ON MY LEGS AND ROLLING MY ANKLES. I THINK HE FIGURED OUT I WAS BONKERS.

[51stcenturyfox.livejournal.com]

I <3 U.

My ankles intermittently swell up (bizarrely, It's ACTUALLY to do with the way I sit, weird) and I went to the doctor and he's all, LET'S DO AN ULTRASOUND SO YOU DON'T HAVE A CLOT WHICH CAN CAUSE A MAJOR STROKE.

WTF, yo. So that's not it. They should fix it because it's a surprise and once in a while I can't wear a skirt because of WEIRD ANKLE. Fuck, what?

So now, fuck you, WEBMD. You freak me out.

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

omg seriously. Every once in a while my upper lip rapidly swells as if I have been stung, unevenly. Sometimes right, sometimes left, once in the middle. So far it's happened three times in about 6 months. I was not stung. It happened at 3 different times of day, in three different places. Once after I ate a piece of cheesecake, once after I had some Arby's fries, and once WHEN I HAD NOT YET EATEN ANYTHING.

WHAT IS THIS?

[noveldevice.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I was both amused and impressed by that. I was ampressed. Or immused. Something.

I understand, believe me. The yeariversary of Ranj's death is later this month, and I feel...many things...about it. Most of them to do with the idea, whether it's right or not, that he is only dead because I moved to Canada to get a PhD. And I'm starting to feel like I'm running out of time to meet someone and not be alone forever and become a pet-hoarder who is eventually eaten by her fifty cats and small yappy dogs when she keels over in her pee-soaked house full of carefully saved magazine articles about cuckoo clocks.

I know, intellectually, that that's absurd, but I actually feel rather panicked about it.

And I'm 34 and, ten years after deciding that I did after all want to have a kid or two, I have no kids, because my partner who is now dead never thought it was the right time to try, and I am slowly coming to understand that for him, fatherhood was a beautiful dream that he was content to take out and polish occasionally without ever having the courage to even try to make it happen, but he wasn't honest with me about it, which is all that I asked. And then, see above re feeling like I basically killed him. Sigh.

I know it doesn't get easier, but it seems very unfair that it apparently just gets harder.

I myself tend to apply Ben and Jerry's.

YOU WOULD BE A GREAT CORPOREAL FRIEND. I LIKE SPICY FISH.

[amonitrate.livejournal.com]

ahahahhahahahaa. This is a good plan. The list part, anyway.

I have the most ridiculous story about the time I went to the doctor for antidepressants a couple of years ago. Wow, the nurse training programs in this area must really not cover Depression 101. I mean, it was so badly handled it was even funny to me while I was crying in my doctor's office.

This nurse trainee comes in and asks me what I'm there to see the doctor for, which is routine, and so I told him I'd been really depressed for awhile, and he asked me what had happened to make me depressed, and I sort of stared at him because I wasn't sure how to answer that, and then he asked if someone had been mean to me. Those where his words. Like I was 12 and someone had pulled my hair on the playground.

Luckily my actual doctor handled it well when she got there, but JFC, that nurse trainee really needed a class or two on Depression: Not Really About People Being Mean To You. I probably should have said something to the doctor about it, but... I was depressed. Heh.

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

I SHALL BE 34 THIS YEAR.

I have no urge to ever have a partner ever again, but IN TEN YEARS IF WE DO NOT HAVE SOMEONE WE SHOULD TOTES BECOME HETERO LIFE PARTNERS AND MOVE IN TOGETHER SO THAT WE CAN EAT ICE CREAM AND FISH AND SCOFF AT MEN AND CHANGE THE LITTER BOXES.

I wish I could say that it gets better, because I think everyone is different. I think it's best to say that it mutates. Yeah, your focus mutates.

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

DUDE, people like that have no business being in medicine.

[paragraphs.livejournal.com]

No apologies required or necessary. I've had my own in the past, believe me. You just know the shiny new C model.

Yeah that one! The first time my daughter said 'omg my va-jay-jay HURTS' I pretty much keeled over laughing.

[cruentum.livejournal.com]

...boob scabs.

Better than dick scabs.

Just saying.

[amand-r.livejournal.com]

VA-JAY-JAY SHOULD BE THE MEDICAL TERM. I JUST WANT TO SEE OLDER MEN WITH DEGREES SAYING IT IN A SERIOUS TONE.

[amonitrate.livejournal.com]

He was very sincere about his question. If I hadn't been really depressed, I probably would have started giggling.

Nursing: ur doin it rong.