Anxiety, Medication, Mental Health, Stress

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

I swear I can’t win.  I started on the Cymbalta almost a week ago.  The good news, it is starting to help with the pain.  The bad news, it killed my appetite.  I’m lucky if I get 1000 calories a day.  I’ve lost 5 pounds since I started.  While that’s a welcome loss, it isn’t healthy nor sustainable.  My anxiety has also gone into overdrive.  My blood sugar is running low because of the not eating thing and that tends to trigger anxiety.  Despite telling the doctor this, she doesn’t want me to go down on the dosage (I told her 30 mg had worked fine for me in the past but she insisted on putting me on 60 mg even though I’m incredibly sensitive to medication).  She also doesn’t want me to take a daytime dosage of Klonopin.  She essentially wants me to ride it out.  I’ve got enough Klonopin to take it twice a day before I see her again, so I might use it as a crisis kind of thing.  Oh and she isn’t worried about the not eating thing either.

I’m debating whether to try a different psychiatrist (see previous entry about the psychosis thing) or see if she works out.  I don’t like doctor hopping and it’s my general rule not to do it unless the person is truly an ass or incompetent.  But she doesn’t seem to really give a damn.

*sigh*

One step forward, two steps back.  That’s the story of my life, or so it seems.

Anxiety, Cats, Emotions, Fatigue, Fibromyalgia, Health, Medication, Pain, Stress

All That Jazz

Or maybe just some of it.  OK, probably none of it.

My brain is utterly fried.  I don’t know what to blame it on…  constant stress, depression, anxiety, fibro.  All of the above, maybe?

I guess if you want to look on the plus side, my PTSD symptoms are pretty much nonexistent aside from anxiety and a wicked startle response.  But I’m bone tired.  Like stay in bed all day bone tired.  And my bones hurt from the cold.  Spring can’t come soon enough for me.

My doc started me on a muscle relaxant at night.  While that’s a good thing (I think since I’m not waking up with spasms in my back and legs) my muscles seem to clamp down even harder during the day.  I could barely straiten my back yesterday.

I’ve applied for my state’s medicaid program.  I’m trying to figure out what the next step with them is.  The website isn’t exactly clear.  I guess I need to go in person.  Luckily for me, there’s an office in the city I live in.  It’s just a depressing place to go.  I’ve already found out that my current PCP doesn’t take medicaid.  Bad because I hate getting established with a new doctor.  Good because, well, to be honest, I didn’t really like my PCP to begin with.  On the other hand, who knows.  The new one could be worse.  And all this is stressing me out too.

I think the only thing keeping me sane is my kitties.  I’m house/cat sitting for someone this week.  Their kitty loves me.  He always wants to be on top of me, kneading me.  And damn it.  It hurts.  I can only put him down so many times before he gets more insistent.  Oh well.  It’s only for a few more days and then I’ll be back with my mostly non cuddly kitties.

Depression, Emotions, Fatigue, Fibromyalgia, Medication, PTSD, Sleep, Stress

I Don’t Know

I just don’t know.  I think I’m going through some PTSD regression stuff.  I’m having shower and bed issues.  I’ve been sleeping on the couch downstairs.  I say it’s because it’s too hot in my room, but really, I don’t want anything to do with my room.

I’m having trouble staying med compliant.  I rarely take my sleep meds.  I still sleep, but with so much REM it’s not refreshing.  Pain meds…  not the best at taking them either.  I feel like I deserve to be in pain.

It’s not easy to sit here and write this.  I can’t put things into words right now.  I can’t concentrate on anything, in fact I’ve lost interest in my Fortran course and learning the ins and outs of XCode (I’m back on a Mac).

I wish I could throw up.  It would make me feel better I think.  My stomach is all churned up again, probably because I’m not taking those meds like I should be.  I’m not sure how long I’m going to last in the states.  It’s been a month and I feel like I’m losing my marbles.

Emotions, Fibromyalgia, Medication, Pain, Stress, Venting

Bugger

I’m leaving my job after my contract ends.  Ordinarily I’d stay.  But my boss has cut our winter break from 5 to 3 days.  You don’t know how much I need those five days.  The franchise fed her some cock and bull story that hogwons don’t give five days in the summer and the winter.  That’s crap.  I’ve worked at two other and talked to other people.  You get 5/5.  I can’t believe my boss bought it.  AND she broke my contract.  If I were a vindictive bitch, I’d take her to the labor board.  I’m not.  I saw next year’s schedule.  I have even fewer hours.  I’m not working for half of what she put in my contract.  I should have insisted she put the original amount.  I let her put what I’m getting now.  So I’m going to try to get a job at the same school as some friends.  I like the franchise books, but once you’re out of their ESL course, they frankly suck.  They have some sort of online things for teachers.  There are twelve units in the book.  I’ve yet figured out how to get past unit 8 on the web site.  I managed to find the answer key for one of the workbooks and printed the chapter I needed.  There was like 90% overlap between the two.  Book used word A, key used synonym B.  There are more than the average number of mistakes in the books.  I can’t spell.  God knows I be up shits creek without a spell checker.  But one of the authors on the series is a native English speaker.  How you do miss dong for doing, two pages in a row.

Yes, I’m venting.  Before this shit hit the fan, I had to deal with doctor turf wars.  The rheumy gave in and took out the Prozac (which I was going to ask him to do anyway) and the sleep med he prescribed.  I had two blissful weeks of sleep.  Now I’m back to sleeping but not sleeping.  Psych has me on amitriptyline, probably enough to put a normal horse to sleep.  It’s not helping me sleep.  He has me on tiny amounts of Valium and Klonopin at night.  He said that whatever sleep med the rheumy prescribed had the highest abuse potential of any sleep aide.  Have I ever shown him addictive potential in nearly two years?  No.  And the man hands out Valium like it’s candy. I’m going to give it the weekend.  I’ve already spent the days sleeping because I don’t want to deal with the pain (and I wad tired as hell).  Yes, I have pain killers, but I’m afraid of tolerance (different than addiction, thank you very much).  I need to ask a doc about that.  It’s Tramadol + acetaminophen.  I don’t like the acetaminophen one bit.  But apparently it’s supposed to give the Tramadol a boost.

OK, I think that’s enough for one day.

Anger, Stress, Venting, Work

Do You Have a Brain?

Sorry, work rant again.

These new books.  I have one that I need two days to teach one unit.  I have one day a week with the class.  My boss is the co-teacher.  I initially asked for help, especially the reading comprehension section because it was difficult.  No problem she says.  We aren’t doing any comprehension now.

Today she comes by and says, you didn’t do the comprehension questions with them.  Me: speechless.  Uh, you were supposed to do those.  But they’re more conversation based and I think you should do them.  Me: speechless.  I only have one day and I need to do the vocabulary, speaking and grammar parts.  She says it’s better if the Korean teacher does the grammar.  Me: speechless.  The last unit of grammar?  “there is” and “there are”.  I can teach a blind, deaf, mute monkey how to use there is and there are.  So now the students have to translate the reading (hahahahaha, like that’s going to happen).  This still leaves me with trying to do 2 days of work in 1.  And my boss wonders why I get stressed out.  I have no idea.

Why the change?  She can’t keep up with the material she has to teach.  She put the class in the wrong level.  Not my problem.

Now I’m going to see what might be on TV but probably will watch a movie.  “Instinct” is queued up in VLC.

And someday I promise I’ll get back to the real reason I started this blog.  But in a way, it’s all relevant.  Stress makes the fibro makes the PTSD worse.  On and on like an oh so wonderful merry-go-round.

Health, Stress, Work

Much better

I do so much better mood/fibro wise when the sun is out.  Today ’twas so.  And it looks like it for the next 2 days (at least).

I can’t wait to get the madness of test week over.  Oh, but then comes the fun of Halloween.  I’m all for stickin’ the kids in a room and letting them watch “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!”.  Lucky me gets to be in the craft room.  At least it won’t be a free for all this year.  They’re planning on having the classes move through in groups.
And at least my craft is making door knob hangers.  Worst thing that can happen is someone puts out an eye.  I jest.  I jest.  But I’ve got to laminate all the bloody things.

So much for tonight.  My last lesson ran over time.  And I think I still have that test to write….  *checks dropbox* … HOT DOG!  I did do it this afternoon before work. *pats self on back*

Cats, Mental Health, Stress

Stress? Huh?

It’s Monday.  That was the first problem.  I was sick all weekend and this morning I couldn’t drag my butt out of bed.  Thus, no meds until tomorrow.  This morning I stepped in cat puke on the way to the bathroom.  Great.  I think I got a bad bag of food because neither Gidgette or Ivory will eat it.  I came home and there was poor Gidgette dry heaving and finally bringing up a bit of water.  Put dinner in fridge.  Put cat in carrier.  Put shoes back on.  And turn right around (the vet is in the same building I work in).  Three sticks to get enough blood while I’m trying to hold up an 11 pound cat up.  My arms were shaking, I was upset.  Blah blah blah.  Some abnormalities mainly due to not eating.  So I have to wait 3 hours before I can give her her medicine which means I’ll be up late.

Now I’m in no mood for diner.  I’m cold and I’m tired and I hurt like hell.  All this started happening when I changed their food (my vet doesn’t carry the kind they ate before).

*le sigh*

Hopefully I’ll get some sleep tonight.

Child Abuse, Health, PTSD, Randomness, Stress

Pink Pajamas

Again, yes.  I’m finding it hard to wait for whatever my mind has in store for me to come.   I feel like, come brain, tell me.  Kick me some more while I’m down.  I haven’t felt this tired or in over my head since grad school when I did the bulk of my therapy.  I know there is something just below the surface.  I keep sketching the same thing over again.  I don’t care what it looks like, but it’s a picture of pink pajamas.  I can’t even put a head on it.  I don’t know when this happened so I don’t want to put on the hair.  Yes, it sounds crazy, but I am crazy.

Sorry for the sarcasm.  Another piece of fun news is I have (fairly large) lipoma on my right leg.  The fall in December probably triggered it.  My ortho happened to be looking at my legs and noticed it.  He ended up doing an ultrasound (20 bucks boys and girls, which is why I stay in Korea).  Essentially its an overgrowth of fatty tissue.  BUT (here’s the best part) being overweight has no bearing on the development of these.  Something else these doctors can’t blame on me being fat.  I can probably easily have it removed, but I think it’ll be considered cosmetic so not covered under insurance.  I’ll leave it alone unless it starts having babies.

Speaking of Dr. K, he wanted to do the injections in my hips.  I lied and said they didn’t hurt too bad.  Right now it’s hard enough lying on the PT table with the TENS cups on neck and shoulders and hips.  I just couldn’t deal with a man over me with my pants down, even a  little.

OK, I’m about falling asleep here, so we’ll call it a night.  PT and then the doctor with the evil sucking machine tomorrow.

Anxiety, Dreams, My story, PTSD, Questions, Stress

Pink Pajamas

Yes, again.  It’s in my dreams.  It’s in the back of my mind during the day.  I can feel what is being done, but I can see who.  It’s like I have blinders on.  I don’t think I literally had a blindfold on, that wasn’t any of my abusers’ MO.  I don’t know why I have this thing about knowing who it was.

It’s like hovering over my body, but I can’t see the surroundings.  I have no sense of scale.  I can’t tell how old I am.

This is eating at me.  I’ve tried the old trick of putting it in a box, but that’s never worked for me.

My panic levels are going up.  I’m going to take my  night meds and read some Patricia Cornwell.  Nothing like a good murder mystery to help you relax.

Emotions, Fatigue, Fibromyalgia, Sleep, Stress, Work

Okay, So It Is In My Head

No, I’m not saying fibro isn’t real.  It’s as real as cancer and diabetes.  But gosh darn if stress doesn’t make it worse.  All these changes at work.  Vacation coming up (I don’t do vacation well) where I’ll probably get up, go to PT, come home and sleep all day.

I don’t know what to do about the work situation.  It’s not like I’m working more hours than my previous job, but there’s a bit difference in 25 and 55 minute classes.  Five 55 minute classes in a row (essentially a full day for me) is exhausting.  Right now I have one.  When my schedule changes I’ll have four.  There’s nothing I can do about it either.  This is how it’s going to be.

Today I decided to sleep in and skip PT.  Bad idea.  Tomorrow is injection day so I have to get up.  It’s not even 8PM and I’m so tired I could drop.  In fact, I think I’ll feed the kitties, scoop the litter box and hit the hay,.