Inside

so here i am. a beautiful, talented, interesting, intelligent, fun, caring women. i am the strongest physically that i've been in over two years. i haven't had any convulsions for months and months. i was finally getting a taste for being normal and it was amazing. i have wonderful friends and a lovely new boyfriend. i can drive around and go for walks in the forest. i can dance all night and have sex. and what am i doing now?

i am sitting in my house, shaking and terrified. unable to do anything. i can't go and buy bread, i can't go out and see my friends tonight, i can't even wash my hair. all i can do is sit and stare at the floor crying uncontrollably. i feel so horrible that it depresses me. two weeks ago i was flying high and now i have terrible insomnia and when i do sleep i have vivid nightmares, which give me night sweats. nothing is real. my own house is a menacing, terrifying place, but the outside world is even more treacherous. other people - god save me from dealing with other people! better to stay inside, but then i am all alone and inside my own head which is the worst place of all. everything is stressful, everything is worrying, everything is scary. i can barely type my hands are shaking so much from horror. i catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror, distorted into a rictus of terror, red and wet, tears streaming. nothing feels real, nothing feels safe, nothing feels normal. am i going crazy? (oh god please, i dont want to go crazy)

technically i'm not going crazy, but i'm as close to it as i ever wanna come. it is clonazepam withdrawals. they have hit me incredibly hard the last few days with no sign of letting up. i have been trying not to medicate myself with xanax as that is the same class of drug as clonazepam, but is actually more addictive. but eventually i have to or risk really going crazy. one body, one mind cannot handle this strain. especially not all alone. yesterday i went to see my shrink. up until a few days ago i had been supremely confident that i was off the clonazepam and was doing well. i spent the whole of yesterday morning trying to stop myself from freaking out, from trembling uncontrollably, from wailing and screaming, but eventually i had to give in and take a xanax. no way was i going to walk into the shrink's office with wide terror-filled eyes and a tear stained face, he woulda jumped at all sorts of ridiculous diagnoses.

i managed to make the walk to his office but not without jumping at every loud sound along the way. talking to him, i told him that i had recently been struggling with withdrawals (in retrospect the signs were there for a long time before this, but then i thought it was just me being a 'worrier' - no wonder i had a fight with him (new boyfriend) on saturday!) he suggested that i take more of the anti-depressant that i am on - which i will then also have to wean myself off of! ARGH! - and he prescribed a different drug to take if things were really bad, something to replace the xanax with. i felt better, maybe things aren't so bad ...

i didn't sleep very well last night, but at least i didn't wake up with any jolts of terror. this morning things, thoughts, worries about the past and the future were running around inside my head until my body was trembling and i was crying and hyperventilating. refusing to take a xanax, wanting to just get through this on my own i tried to do stuff this morning. ah ha! i thought, i finally have myself under control. i am not feeling good, but at least i'm not crying and panicking hysterically. but it started again. the feeling of unreality, terror, which then leads to depression. i was on the floor bawling and realised that if i didn't relent and take another xanax i might truly lose my mind - i honestly felt like i was going to have a complete melt down.

needless to say, i feel better now, after the xanax. i went for a walk and am feeling calmer. i still cant face going out tonight, or anytime this weekend probably, but at least i can function without getting so tense that i wanna throw up. and tomorrow i will be taking more of that anti-depressant because i am not superwoman and i cant do this by myself. i shouldn't have to suffer anymore. fuck, i hope it works. if it doesn't i don't know what i'll do.

but now, it looks like i will have to tell him (new boyf) something. he knows i had brain surgery etc, but i didn't bother to tell him in detail about my meds cos i really thought that i was on top of the clonazepam (fucking benzodiazepines! fucking doctor who gave me the bloody drug! it has given me a host of mental and emotional issues that i never had before! i hate it!). now i have to tell him that i am losing my mind right now and don't know when i will be better. i feel so bad for coming into his life and dropping all this shit onto his lap and knowing him he will be wonderfully understanding and wanna come and look after me. that just makes it worse. we have been together for 2 months - i refuse to involve him in all my medical and psychological dramas. so, what will i say? i dunno, the truth. i can handle spending time with him i'm sure. but i'm not up to going out with big groups of people and partying. unfortunately that is what he enjoys. he is not in town at the moment so i will wait until he comes back. or until he calls me, whichever comes first.

goddamn! so much for being normal and happy. HA! how could i think it was gonna last? moron!