Journaling Day 6; lots of swearing

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I’ve been so unstable on the drugs, and my body so in revolt, that I’m pacing myself off them. Anti-depressants don’t work and there is a subset that the mood stabilizers don’t work for either.  The panic attacks are relentless right now – and I’m not getting any meds for that – I might get addicted they say. Fuck. I took Xanax for years just fine. Stopped them just fine. Now quit messing with the stuff that makes me a zombie and give me back my Xanax. I could cope. This stuff. I can’t even stay awake so that’s how I cope.

I’m so tired of doctors telling me that it’s my fault I don’t get stable – like I purposely mess with my meds so I don’t. Chaos and pain may be my comfort zone, but I can’t even begin to move beyond it til something either steadies me out or I go clean and deal with it that way. Why feel like shit with a bunch of drugs fucking up  when no drugs makes you feel not much worse.

I just deleted several paragraphs because I’m not ready to be that publically honest yet – if this is going to work, I’m going to have to do this privately. I don’t know if anyone would be interested in getting passwords to my private journal – I’m not sure I could even give them out. Guess there has to be two journals – the surface one and the deeper, darker one. I’ll let some of the dark stuff up sometimes, maybe.

Pain is rising – got to stop typing – makes my jaw worse. My moist heat treatment heating pad came today so I can start doing my home exercises while I wait to see if the new health insurance will allow physical therapy on my head and neck muscular structures. The pain is really wearing me down into the depression abyss.

 

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