Dozy

Dear lovely readers, I am having the best time! I’m well, I’m happy, I’m productive, I’m energetic, not needing as much sleep or naps, I’m doing stuff, back on my bike, I’m out taking photos of birds, socialising, I’m having house guests, getting organised, spring cleaning of all things!! It’s remarkable and it’s thanks to my psychiatrist, thanks to the extra purple pill per day that I’m taking and thanks to my brain for accepting the intervention gracefully and allowing these happy days. I owe thanks to every lovely person who checks in on me when I’m unwell, so thank you so much; I’m glad I can write good news!

[Written a couple of weeks ago on One Of Those Days! I’ve been too busy living a happy life to write this week! YAY!]

Today I didn’t wake up, not altogether. I’m feeling a bit dazed, and a lot like there is a thick fog well settled well over my brain, and down over my neck, my shoulders and half way down my chest!

I’m struggling to open my eyes, and to keep them open, more to the point. They certainly aren’t fully opening. They just have an irresistible almost magnetic draw to close, and the sleep in the corners of my eyes clagging them together is adding to the problem. You know those moments, when people say they need matchsticks to prop open their eyelids? Except that’s usually at the end of the day, not the start of it. Bleary eyed, irritated and itchy, my eyes just aren’t ready for a new day. I realise this isn’t a first in the history of humans. Other people wake up like this too, it’s not just me. But this is after a full night’s sleep, a good rest. I should be rearing to go.

My whole body feels like its wrapped in a deliciously warm lovely blanket from which it would have to put up a great and tiring fight to escape. Well, I guess that’s not so metaphorical; I am still in bed, and I roll around enough in the night that it’s quite likely I’m twisted tight in the sheets by morning. My body is heavy and weighty and it just seems too hard to move it at all. And why would I want to put in that level of effort when I’m in such a nice situation? Oh yeah, to be the adult that I apparently am. But I can’t really think straight enough even to start planning what shape the day is going to take. What time do I need to get up again? And do I really need to get up, or can I cancel whatever I had planned? Assuming I can actually get this hefty body up out of bed. It’s like I’ve lost all muscle tone and I have to use my mind like a lifting machine to lift each dead weight limb, one at a time and they won’t cooperate! You know, one of those caterpillar diggers with the lifting clamp? Or one of the machines that nurses use, whichever environment is easier for you to visualize.

Drowsy, thick in the head, awful eyes, impossible body, can’t see where to start. And it’s my fault, my husband would remind me! Love you, baby; you really know how to phrase these statements. I am of course joking, he only says it nicely and when I know its the truth anyway.

But it’s true, it is my fault, in a manner of speaking. I took my tablets too late last night, and now I’m hung over. Basically.

I take my tablets by alarm, sort of. When you are prescribed a medicine that has to be taken twice a day, you should ideally take the 2 doses 12 hours apart. Says Miss Pharmacist, but what does Mrs Patient do? So, when will you take it?

It actually takes a bit of working out. Will you take your tablets at 7am and 7pm? 8am and 8pm? Really anything 12 hours apart works. Except there’s a complication because one of the tablets that you take at night with the second dose makes you drowsy and then comatose! It kicks in anywhere between 15 and 30 minutes usually. Sometimes it doesn’t really kick in for ages and I can stay up for an hour longer or more, but sometimes it kicks in fast and that’s it for the day. When I feel it starting to make my eyelids heavy and my insides warm and fuzzy, I head upstairs before I can’t stand straight anymore from dizziness and lack of balance! Please never try to see me at this time of night: the whole whites of my eyes go reddish and I scare myself looking in the mirror! It’s all gone by morning thankfully. In the past I’ve tried to push through the sedating effects but they won’t be argued with! I’ve crashed my way around my bedroom, lurching from wall to wall unbalanced and unable to see straight, and unfortunately having to go to the bathroom! There I sit, having done with the toilet, unsure if I can stand up and get back to my bed next door, feeling weak and heavy as a dead weight. Ask my husband, I think he’s had some interesting amusements in the early days of me using this drug! I’m talking about quetiapine, a mood stabiliser very well known for the drowsiness that it causes, among other things.

So, theoretically I could take my morning tablets at whatever time, then most of my evening tablets 12 hours later, then the sedating medication when I’m ready to go to bed…but that means having life interrupted 3 times a day instead of 2. It sounds trivial when I’m taking so many meds crucial to my health, but when I’m well I’d rather not spend all day taking tablets. So I want my meds in two convenient slots, but what times? If I’m working, this is especially critical. I want to take my meds before work, say 8am. But I don’t want to take my sedating tablets at 8pm and go to bed with the children. Plus its so early in the evening that I’m be sure to be awake bright and early at 4am or something inconvenient! So I tend to push out the night dose to 9pm, 10pm or later. If I’m busy, I just wait til I’m finished doing whatever I’m doing and I’m ready to go to bed and THEN I take them. I intend to get to the point where I’m NEARLY ready for bed, take my tablets and get a little sleepy while finishing off whatever, and go to bed nice and drowsy read to go off to a deep sleep. But I often forget and finish what I’m doing completely before taking my meds. The later I take them, the more likely it is that their effect will hang over into the morning. By much trial and error over 2 years, we’ve figured out that 9 to 9.30pm is the ideal time to take my meds at night, giving me possibly up to 10pm to do whatever in the evening and allowing me to wake up fresher. But unfortunately last night I took my sedating tablets at 11.30pm! Which messes up my system, although it is a fairly flexible system to be honest! When my night tablet alarm goes off I’m just as likely to snooze or ignore as I am my morning alarm. Some little rebellion in me about having to take meds. It never works out well for me. And so, here we are. Sedated, drowsy, heavy, tired; finding it hard to get going.

It’ll get better but slowly, across the course of the day, and it’s probably just going to be one of those days where I shouldn’t drive, need to find something riveting to do to keep me awake, or just succumb and stay in/go back to bed! I guess this is one of those days where not having a job works out for me. I might manage to get up and go to work on a day like this, but it’s questionable what quality of work I would produce, and it’s probably in most people’s best interest that I don’t go at all. So if I’m working, I need to be a lot stricter with myself in taking my meds on time. There’s a fascinating concept called presenteeism which I recently became aware of. You know, like absenteeism where you’re absent from work? Except this is when you are unwell, under stress or otherwise compromised in some way, but you turn up anyway and consequently put in a worse day of work than you might usually. A workplace was looking at how much presenteeism cost them as opposed to absenteeism, and whether it is really better sometimes for staff to just stay home. Doing so would theoretically reduce errors, complications, injuries that may arise from incomplete focus. I don’t know how they’ll measure any of it, but I’m watching on with great interest.

So yes I supposed you could say that being hung over and non functional is my fault. I get tempted to have late nights, to be like everyone else, carefree and not worrying about things like tablets. I know it’ll catch up with me the next day, but in the evening when it’s all going down it doesn’t seem as bad as it will be in the morning. So I push out the time a bit here and a bit there, a lot here, too much there! I do have to be careful that I don’t get myself into a different time zone, taking my tabs at 11pm and 11am or worse and really messing up my hours. While I’m off work I can be a rebel and mess up my sleep pattern and sleep in til lunchtime. Who cares, basically! But work is something that I want and need, and when it comes it’s back to taking tablets by the alarm. Like a good girl. For the best.

Advertisements

Tales of a missed dose

[Written 16th June 2015]

This is a story of what happens when I miss a dose of medication.

What happens depends whether I miss a morning dose or an evening dose. As I write this I’m suffering from missing an evening dose so let’s go with that.

At night I take several tablets: quetiapine, lithium, valproate, rosuvastatin, pantoprazole. Mood stabiliser, mood stabiliser, mood stabiliser, anti-cholesterol, antacid. Yes, it takes that many stabilisers to keep me going!

In the morning I take thyroxine, venlafaxine, Levlen, valproate, lithium. Thyroid hormone replacement, antidepressant, contraceptive, mood stabiliser, mood stabiliser.

All done! Hopefully...I'll still count the tablets out every morning and night to double triple check

In terms of missing a dose, lithium and valproate aren’t the worst to miss as a patient because I’ll be taking some again soon. This is not an official pharmacist, GP or psychiatrist recommendation! Lithium and valproate should ALWAYS be taken twice a day, as close as possible to 12 hours apart for the best effect! And I repeat! This is because for lithium a healthy person’s kidneys clear it out of you in that time frame so to keep a steady level you should take it consistently. And for valproate it’s your liver. That’s why you should respect these two organs very highly! They are very important. But what I’m meaning is its not the worst in terms of the adverse effect of missing a dose. If I miss taking lithium at bedtime, I take it first thing the next morning which gets it back in my system before I physically notice that it even left. My overall level will be a bit lower for a few days which isn’t ideal, but it will work back up to speed soon enough. And I do have a level at least.

Whereas for medications that I take once a day, I’ll miss the effect for 24 hours. Which sucks. Plainly and simply!

boxes, bottles, tablets, capsules

Quetiapine is one of the once a day tablets. It is prescribed to me to prevent mood swings, reduce my anxiety and has the handy effect of giving me a good night’s sleep. It was doing this a bit too well for some months there and I was doped out all of the time, but my awesome psychiatrist recommended a change in the times I take it and we’re back up to speed. Yes!

So, do I get a mood swing if I miss one dose? No. Really not. The chemistry isn’t that reactive. In the same way that it takes weeks of first taking the medication to get the benefit, it takes longer than one day to mess up the whole thing. But I do have a rough day afterward, and a rough night too! It’s a bit like I’m sitting in my car going along nicely and I know where I am and where I’m going and how I am and suddenly another car rear ends me, or bumps into the side of my car at a right angle. Slowly of course, not fast. So my mood just takes a hit, a bump and suddenly I’ve jumped along or across and I find myself somewhere other than where I just was, a bit disorientated about how I got there and sort of catching up with what just happened and where am I now and how I am and are we still okay? That following day I may be in quite a different mood from the one before, either peppy and edgy and anxious and manic, or slow, and silent, and flat and a bit away with the fairies. But that doesn’t qualify as a mood swing, just a sudden small change that affects my day.

After missing a dose here and there I have now gotten the side effects of missing my nightly dose of quetiapine down in a pretty clear timeline. Yes, there are side effects from NOT taking your tablets, as much as taking them. Something to consider.

So here’s the quetiapine absence timeline.

strips, tablets, capsules

10 to 11pm: I can’t get to sleep.

This is a terrible thing. I need my sleep. Always have, and always will I guess, but especially since I’ve been sick. So does everyone, I realise. If I don’t get a good night’s sleep the next day is a struggle, emotionally. So I toss, and I turn, and I turn, and I toss. After an hour of this, if I’m alert enough, I’ll think to myself, self, why can’t I get to sleep? I usually go straight to sleep! Then I’ll look in my pill box, see my tablets, mentally or physically hit myself in the head, take them and all is good in the world. Just like that. If I’m not thinking too clearly, I might think to take a Valium and at least get some sleep. If I’m dull-witted, which is at least half of the time, I’ll eventually wrestle myself to sleep. It sounds funny to say, but I’ve become very good at putting myself to sleep. I nap most days from necessity, and there is a skill involved in going from activity to sleep in a short space of time. I guess shift workers eventually excel at this sort of thing. So I’m quite adept at getting myself in a comfortable position, getting the temperature right (cannot sleep well unless it is right!), darkening the room, doing a conscious relaxation of as many muscles as I can, and stilling my mind into sleep.

Say I managed that. Next time check?

3am. Yep, wide awake, fresh as a daisy, ready to go at 3am. I toss, and turn, and can’t get comfortable, and I’m restless and my poor husband is rocking and rolling every time I turn and I’m messing with his sheets, and he has to go to work tomorrow even if I don’t, so I try to lay still and physically can’t! Why am I awake, I’m usually asleep, what is happening, oh….ahhhh! Tablets! I forgot them! Duhh! I hate that moment! I try to do my utmost to prevent it, but it still happens and it does feel like a failure every time I somehow mess it up! So, should I take them now? The dilemma! It’s 7 out of 12 or 24 hours through the medication time period. So I can’t take all of them. Maybe just some of them. Can’t take quetiapine, I’ve missed the boat on that one otherwise I’ll sleep all day. And I’ll be taking lithium and valproate soon anyway, and can’t double dose. What about the rest? Which are nothing really, in the scheme of me being wide awake at 3am! Cholesterol and stomach medication. Sure I can take them, they should be taken regularly but it’s too late for my sleep. The next dilemma then: try to force myself to sleep again, or just get up, take my laptop to the spare room and do something else? Who knows? Depends what I’ve got on the next day really. I can never decide!

medication list

8am: I’ve finally given up the ghost on sleep so I’m up and peppy and full of life and only just partially anxious and ever so slightly manic and energetic and going to run the world! If I haven’t already taken one to sleep, now is the time for a Valium to wind back the jets on being super woman and achieving all my life goals in one sweet day! And talking my husband’s ear off and planning one hundred chores like a complete going through of the entire kitchen plus 3 loads of washing on a rainy day and lunch with girlfriends and all kinds of magical things. ‘Woah, says my husband, that’s too many things for today. No do that another day, you’ve got enough things for today. How about you sit down for a minute, what about some mindfulness? I think you should do some mindfulness…how about you go and do that now?’ At around about this point I have now blown my nose for literally the THIRTIETH time since waking for the final time. THIRTY. You just can’t blow you nose till it feels empty; there’s always residual. And it’s pretty much like a tap. The medical term is rhinorrhea, like diarrhea but your nose is melting and there is a constant liquid dripping, dripping, dripping!! Quetiapine dries you out like anything so you get dry mouth (and want to drink Coke all the time!), dry nose which leads to sores and blood noses, some degree of constipation which no one wants to know about and some urine retention. The last one isn’t noticeable on any other day, until the missed dose day and then I realise that yes I really have been holding back! TMI I know, but you wanted the whole story right?

But the nose thing really gets me! If I notice nothing else in the middle of the night, I do notice my nose dripping incessantly! It’s an instant giveaway! It’s different to regular waking up in the morning and blowing your nose. It’s more like hay fever without the sneezing but the medication to stop it cannot be taken til nighttime!!! Cue fierce under breath bursts of ‘idiot’!

And then it’s just getting through the day like usual, but bearing well in mind that you’re a bit high today, a bit edgy, a bit fiddly, a bit anxious, a bit overstrung so remembering to breath, relax, calm, easy, gently does it. And I should mention that the other things ease off too, just not in such an obvious diagnostic way. I have the right amount of saliva in my mouth (who knew that was a thing!) and going to the toilet is a breeze, like really easy, like maybe a bit too much and too many times! So happy thoughts!

medication box, tablets

Now the morning lot and venlafaxine. Anyone who is involved in the prescribing, dispensing, and before too long taking venlafaxine knows about the withdrawals. It’s described in the textbooks and it happens like the textbooks. Exactly like. I used to think this was pretty cool. I still do theoretically, but in practice I either love or hate that they’re so reliable and unavoidable. I love them if I notice it before I’ve left the house for a work day because I immediately fix the shortcoming. I hate them if I notice once I’m already on the way to the bus stop and I don’t have time to turn back, or I’m on the bus, on the train, on the tram, in the building. Then it sucks because I know what’s coming and I can’t do a thing about it! Unless I can get to my doctor for an emergency script but that means paying full price, and after all it’s nothing life threatening. Not bad enough to pay three times the normal price! And believe it or not borrowing stock from the shelves is not strongly encouraged by my employers nor is it in any way legal!

What the symptoms/adverse effects of missing venlafaxine are: electric shocks/tingling in your fingers, light headedness/feeling like my head is spinning/wondering if I’ll faint, nausea. Nothing fun. Nothing dangerous. They don’t make for a good day, and I have to wait til the next morning to fix it! More banging of palm to forehead and severe muttering to oneself!

So that the what. The why is a whole other adventure and I don’t have time today, but hang in there and soon we’ll have another chat and look at the other part of the problem. Chat soon!

Last night I had a dream…

Anxiety, depression, antidepressants.

Condition, condition, treatment.

Cause of dreams, cause of nightmares, cause of crazy, surreal, nonsensical, weird-as concoctions of ideas and sequence.

Either way, not a great night’s sleep!! And a poor night’s sleep leads to waking up tired and already sick of the day, and that’s no way to feel better about life!

In December last year I got started on a second and more sedating antidepressant to help with my anxiety, and depression. I was initially scared of being on two antidepressants simultaneously. The pharmacist in me was screaming “serotonin sydrome, serotonin syndrome!” [see author’s note]. But then I took it, as directed, at 9pm at night. Within in half an hour a warm fuzzy feeling was spreading all over me and I was feeling sleepy. So I went to bed. I fell asleep straight away, no tossing and turning and trying to force myself to sleep. No fretting, anxiety, stress, fears for tomorrow. Just pure sleep. Bliss!

I fell asleep, and stayed asleep. All night! In fact I couldn’t get up the next day! The doctor had warned me about this so I had started the medication on Christmas Day. I dragged myself out of bed about 9.30am, tried to keep my eyes open over breakfast and finally gave up after a shower and went back to bed about 11am. I slept solidly for two hours and woke up feeling a bit better, but still sleepy – luckily it was a small family lunch for Christmas so it didn’t matter too much. The next day was better, the next even better and within four or five days I could wake up bright and early as soon as my alarm went off and head off to work. And I was getting a full night’s sleep every night!! I was no longer waking up feeling like someone had “punched me in the face” as my doctor describes it, pretty accurately!

Oh mirtazepine! I still have a soft place in my heart for this wonder drug that put me to sleep, kept me asleep and then allowed me to wake up and get on with my life.

I’ve changed medications a lot since then. I had to get rid of mirtazepine because the doctors wanted to start quetiapine instead, an antipsychotic/mood stabiliser to stop me swinging from one end of  the spectrum to the other. It is also sedating. It does a pretty good job with my sleep: it certainly puts to sleep, and keeps me asleep, but I’m having this annoying phenomenon of waking up every morning at 4am or 5am bright as a button!

And to all the helpful people who say “just get up” – thank you for your advice but I respectfully decline!! What kind of time to get up is 4am?? What am I meant to do at that hour of the day? How am I meant to occupy myself all day? It’s hard enough as it is! So I go to the toilet and get back in bed and start the fight with myself to get back to sleep. Unfortunately by the time I succeed it is time for my hubby to get up and a much more reasonable hour of the day to be awake, and I’m conked out! Completely out to it! So my actual getting up time is more like 8am, 8.30am, 9am, 9.30am. Which doesn’t work well with a plan to go back to work eventually on a 8am to 5pm shift…but hey, I really shouldn’t be getting ahead of myself!

I asked my psychiatrist about this early waking thing. At first I thought it was just going to be a temporary thing, but it’s going on and on. He doesn’t want to increase the quetiapine dose anymore; I’m already fat and have cholesterol problems which are in part due to this medication and neither of us want to worsen that! Besides I’ve been started on lithium since which he hopes will be my main medication and the idea is to eventually reduce and possibly cut out altogether my antidepressant and mood stabiliser. His opinion on the matter is that depression is the cause. Early waking can be a typical sign of depression in his view. Bummer!! I was hoping it was something medication-induced that was more easily fixed than depression! Ah well, at least I got most of a good night’s sleep. Mostly.

There’s still the odd crazy antidepressant dream. I’ve heard about other people on antidepressants having strange out of context or deranged dreams, so I guess it’s something that can be part and parcel of treatment. I’ve had a lot more in the past but since being on a mood stabiliser they’ve been a lot rarer.

However I had one last night that got me thinking about this again.

Here’s the reality as background. My sister is a chemistry and nutrition teacher and mostly we get on well. We had a phone conversation last week that was really nice, we had a good chat about different things and only stopped because we had to go out for a date.

Now here’s the dream. I get invited to go to a private girls school to give a lesson on nutrition but I can choose exactly what I want to give the talk on. I choose to talk about waist circumference and it’s link to heart disease. I go to give the talk but I get lost and I’m running late so I have to call ahead and tell them I’m going to be late; not impressive for a guest lecturer! I finally get to the classroom and there are 5 girls; a bit surprising for a guest lecture but okay. Somewhere in the dream the classroom becomes a car and the number of girls drops to two!! Anyway when we get to the car part my sister (the nutrition teacher) turns up and begins heckling me about my facts, saying that they are not evidence-based, the greatest insult in modern medicine! I respond but suddenly I can’t find the evidence that I had before and can’t fight back against the allegations. It turns into a bit of a shame fest for me as a lecturer and then I start getting criticised for my lecturing style, my notes and my slides and it descends into a big higgle-di-piggle-di and I wake up!! Ridiculous!!

Questions: I have no idea on what authority I’m giving this talk, why me? I don’t really have to guess why waist circumference; it’s clearly because mine is well over the line and I need to do something about it other than eating chocolate! Why am I running late – I don’t actually do that much anymore; I’ve really turned over a new leaf. How did we get into the car and why? Why a private school; I went to public schools and have no idea what private schools are like. Why is my sister even there, she lives in a different state? Why are my facts being questioned, especially by my sister who would absolutely support them in real life?

There is no reasoning why with these dreams, they just have to be brushed off as we go on with life. Sometimes they are harder to brush off but I’m sure that looking for meaning in them isn’t very productive. If you beg to differ, and can find a meaning, I’m listening.

So sleep, dreams, life. All wrapped up together and getting the perfect balance is an art. It’s not perfect now, but it’s a long way better than it used to be so I’d like not to fight it but to be glad for what I’ve got and make the most of it!

[Author’s note on serotonin syndrome: when prescribed a high dose of a medicine that increases serotonin like SSRI and SNRI antidepressants, or when prescribed a combination of two medications that increase serotonin there is potential for a patient to develop serotonin toxicity or serotonin syndrome. I have been prescribed both at different times and have never experienced any problems; that is not to say it doesn’t happen, but it is not common. If you believe you have been prescribed one of these you should discuss serotonin syndrome with your doctor/psychiatrist. I am not an authority on the matter and won’t be giving a list of symptoms to look out for. ]

Suicide *warning: the following material may be very disturbing*

Author’s note: I wrote this piece two weeks ago. Then while re-reading it prior to publishing I had some reservations. My personal editor (aka my husband) also had some reservations about how it would affect other people so we decided to wait a while and see if we really wanted to publish this.

I’ve decided that I do want to write publicly about this issue. I apologise if it is disturbing, or frightening, or confrontational, or triggers emotions that are hard to deal with.

I can write about this issue openly now that I am past these horror days and now that I feel reasonably confident that I won’t experience them again, at least nowhere near the depths that I did sink to before. Thanks to an antidepressant and two mood stabilisers, and a team of psychologist, psychiatrist, very accessible and caring GP, fabulous husband and great friends!!

But I do feel that the population of the world fortunate enough never to plunge to these awful depths should have some understanding of the suffering that is out and about in the world, walking around trying to contain their sorrow and hurt. My favourite saying comes to mind:

“Always be kind. Every person you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”

lease PLEASE remember that however impossible it feels, severe depression can be survived. It doesn’t feel like but just ask for help and let someone in! Tell your partner, your friend, your family, your colleague, a local doctor or go to the local emergency department. Tell someone; don’t suffer alone!! You know the numbers:

Lifeline: 13 11 14

Suicide Callback Service: 1300 659 467

Men’s Line Australia: 1300 789 978

Kids Helpline: 1800 55 1800

Employee Assistance Program (employees of public hospitals): 1300 361 008

beyond blue: 1300 22 4636

Suicide Line (Victoria only): 1300 651 251

Suicide Prevention Foundation: 1300 465 366

So here we go!

Suicide. Death by one’s self.

We don’t talk about it enough.

It’s taboo. It’s avoided, ignored, swept out of sight.

There can be sense of shame about it. Some consider it selfish.

In some places and in some era’s it is and has been illegal.

Some insurance companies won’t pay out life insurance policies if a death is determined to be a suicide.

Yet, along the death spectrum a ways, people campaign for euthanasia, the right to kill oneself if life becomes physically unbearable.

What about when life becomes emotionally unbearable? Mentally unbearable? Somehow people never consider the rights of a person suffering in this way.

But this is a dreadful, terrible, awful way to suffer.

Why are we sympathetic to cancer patients with terminal illness suffering physical agony but don’t give the same thought to mentally ill people suffering emotional agony without relief?

And to some people there seems to be or is no end in sight; treatments that don’t work or take too much time to work, emotional turmoil with no relief, desperation. What then?

Personally, I don’t believe suicide is right. Morally, that is. I believe what the Bible says: thou shall not kill, including oneself.

But it was a whole different story when I found myself in the grips of severe depression and assailed with suicidal thoughts.

Suicidal wasn’t about self-harm and ending my life. Initially.

It was about feeling terribly awful in the midst of my perfect life, so awful that I didn’t know if I could survive, if I would ever feel good or well again and I just wanted a break!

It was about dragging myself through the motions every day and wondering if I would ever feel like every physical step wasn’t a tiresome chore. It was about emotionally forcing myself through the duties of the day, pasting a smile on my face and coping when I felt like crawling into bed and never coming out.

I wanted an escape, to step into a time warp that would take me out of my life for as long as it took for the depression to go away. Then I could just step back into my life and take off where I’d left off, minus the awful distress.

I wanted the escape, but didn’t know how to get it. I was on two antidepressants, an unusual combination and a bit risky. But that was what it took to get me feeling better and sleeping. To start with, but then I started having odd thoughts as my mood took a steep dive downwards, the first time I experienced what I would later find out was a mood swing.

What would happen if I just stepped out in front of the bus? If I just took one step out…

Would it hurt? Would I just die or would I be injured and gain nothing but more pain?

I’ve always been against the idea of committing suicide by using another person driving a vehicle. I’ve called it selfish. I’ve called it unfair and sympathised with train, bus, truck and car drivers used in this awful way.

Is this karma? To be wondering whether I would actually take that step? To be thinking not about the awfulness that the driver would experience, but to be wondering if I could be that person? Wondering if it would solve my problems? If it would just take everything away so I didn’t have to try to deal with it day by day by day.

I’ve always been nervous about people standing close to the edge at train stations. I’ve always been half-prepared to see something so awful that it would damage me for life.

But then nothing happened and this mental disease arrived, bit by bit. Maybe it was the anxiety in me the whole time, all these years worrying and thinking about such things.

This was my thought process, back then, before I went to hospital.

I could never jump in front of a train. I’ve read ‘Dear Miffy’ by John Marsden. I know what happens when a jump in front of a train is misjudged! I don’t want to be in a wheelchair or completely dependant on someone else.

I don’t think I would jump in front of a car; too small, more likely to end up alive and well with a couple of broken bones. So that’s out.

So that leaves a bus.

Or an overdose. But I know that the medications that I’m taking are relatively safe in overdose. They won’t kill me. I’ll maybe sleep for a while then wake up back where I started. With the added stigma of having tried to kill myself!

I don’t want that for me, but mostly I don’t want that for my husband. I don’t want to leave him with the bill, so to speak. He doesn’t deserve a life of questioning what went wrong, where could he have done something or done it differently, of blame. He doesn’t deserve any of that. No one deserves that. So I came to this: I can’t do any of those things. I have to keep on going, to keep trying, to keep fighting. Because I can’t do that to him. But it’s so hard!

Another day I got to thinking again: what if I just jumped off these rocks into the crash of waves breaking? Would it hurt? How long would it take? Would someone rescue me? Would it just be easy and instant?

What about sharps? One of my horrors is paper cuts to my eyelids, no idea why! But I’m always super careful around knives and I hate blades, which is why I now wax instead of shave; I’ve cut myself enough times as a total accident to give away shaving! And our knife set is new and super sharp, but I don’t think I could ever do that.

I don’t have a gun and I wouldn’t know what to do with it.

What about painkillers? I don’t have any above supermarket strength and I know they don’t work in overdose, it’s just long slow painful illness of liver failure that can take forever and is a terrible idea. Or bleeding, also slow and awful, not at all a solution.

I’m not great with heights, I just know I could never make myself jump.

So, all out of ideas.

And that’s how I came to be in my doctor’s office at midday on a Monday, bawling my eyes out.

The doctor asked me, have you had any suicidal thoughts? Yes, I sobbed.

Do you have a plan to harm yourself? No, because I can’t think of a way that would work! Sobbing harder and harder.

If I let you go, can you promise me that you won’t hurt yourself? I don’t know, I think so but I’m not sure, I feel so terrible! Sobbing, and sobbing, and sobbing!

A terrible, awful point for me in such despair and not even able to come up with a good way out. Still believing that it’s wrong, but needing so badly some relief! Just a few hours off, just a day of rest from the hurt and chaos in my mind!

Which I did get, later. I took a Valium on the way to the hospital, they gave me another one in the emergency department a few hours later. I slept then, for a few hours. That was just what I needed. But then I woke up and they wouldn’t keep me. As desperate and at the end of my rope as I was, they sent me home.

With 2 temazepam, double the usual dose of this sleeping pill. Which gave me another 8 hours of absence until I could come to terms with going on, dealing with a new day, another battle, keeping on keeping on. Until they could send members from the outpatient psychiatry team to visit and help me.

And then they started the long path to bring me back to today.

Starting new medications, changing doses, scrapping that one, starting another one, altering, fiddling, trying and failing and trying again in the long haul to now, a better day.

Today it is 77 days since I was in the emergency department of my local hospital (author’s note: written two weeks ago). Not the hospital I work at, another one near home. I could never have gone in that state to work and shown any of my colleagues the face under my usual coping face.

77 days. None of them spent working. All of them spent here at home. Making tiny steps of progress, going backward, coming forward, a couple steps one way, another few the other way, teetering backward and forward on the scale from deep depression to hypomania and somehow, at long last, feeling like I’ve settled in the middle around a place that I could call home, somewhere around about “normal”.

My husband in fact thinks maybe I’m better than “normal”. He sees now that maybe I’ve never been as good as I am now.

Sure I still get tired, and have the odd afternoon nap. But I’m more productive, I’m more energetic, I’m more engaged, I’m enjoying life, I’m driving a bit, I’m shopping a bit, I’m doing the dishes occasionally, the laundry sometimes, making the bed some days, hosting visitors rarely, doing day trips every now and then, actually living my life 🙂

We know there will still be days that are further toward one end of the scale or the other. The aim of all the treatment is to not go so far toward either end. My personal goal is to never ever in my whole entire life get anywhere near as deeply depressed as I have been. I don’t ever want to see the shape or colour of that place ever again!!

But we’re living life, and enjoying life! That’s something to be deeply grateful for every day. We’re alive, and relatively well, and life is good! Well, better anyway. That’s something.

I want to live life to the fullest. It’s a cliche, but that’s what I want. My aim is to enjoy every day that I can enjoy because depression is not ruling my life with it’s inability to enjoy pleasure, or it’s sadness, and hopelessness, and pointlessness.

Now ruling my life is just…life. Just life. Getting less complicated, more predictable, more fun! Yes, it takes an solid dose of antidepressant and a good going dose of two mood stabilisers/anti-psychotics. It takes weekly visits with my GP and psychologist, and fortnightly visit to my psychiatrist. It takes good doses of friends and hobbies and enjoyable activities. Who cares? What works, works and I have no argument against that!

Link: how to talk about suicide