I was shocked to be honest, when I picked up my new meds. I saw a psychiatrist today, and whilst increasing my venlafaxine, she added propranolol. Why was I shocked? I now have boxes of the stuff, over a grams worth. A potentially lethal dose.
I asked her how to stop the zopiclone. Her response; go cold turkey!! She won’t prescribe me more than 5 days worth at 7 mg. Which is really two days worth given my recent consumption. The goal posts have moved. My regular psych was more understanding on this front. My CPN has even said, maybe now is not the time. Do they not share notes?
My current cocktail is;
Venlafaxine 150mg am, 75mg pm. Quietiapine 100mg am, 200 mg pm. Mirtazapine 45mg pm. Propranolol 20 mg am and 20 pm.
I also have a little stash of zopicline, all prescribed, but not yet touched.
It’s too many pills. I wish someone would mind them for me. I’m too impulsive right now.
OH and little man are home. OH is working tomorrow. I have a day of house viewings (potential buyers) and a toddler caught in the grips of the terrible two’s.
I’m supposed to be tapering of zopiclone this week. I’m supposed to stop taking more than 15mg. I’m supposed to get a frigging grip, but I can’t do it.
My arms are a total mess, but no one has asked me directly how I’m doing on that score, so I’ve kept it to myself.
I feel out of control and stupid. I feel unwell, and I know that it’s my own fault. I’ve not been able to hit the gym whilst OH was away, so the guilt took hold ensuring I expelled most meals to some extent, before digestion.
This morning started fairly brightly. I had fun with spotty little man out on his balance bike. He’s getting rather good.
By evening I’d crumbled, burned and binged. Then binged some more..
My CPN will see me wednesday as will a nursery nurse to discuss little man’s delayed speech.
I’m disgusting and stupid, and crap at parenting and there isn’t a pill in the world that can fix that.
“You should think about going down to 50% until September” Those where the words that spilled from my boss’s mouth this morning, during a meeting that I had to request, in order to discuss how I’m doing on my phased return.
They stung! You’re no good to me now Loopy, you can’t handle anything and it’s costing us too much, is what I heard. All I needed was a supportive, “you can do this” but instead the last remaining shred of optimism for my future was ripped away.
I’m a burden, I’m incompetent and I’m very nearly done.
Tonight’s little sleeping pills are the same brand as those I used in August. It’s the first time a pharmacy has dispensed the same kind, in all these months. It’s a coincidence that they arrived today, on a day when I want to consume them all. I don’t have enough though, so I’ll just have to settle for a slightly comatosed sleep.
I have no capacity for stress, no tolerance for the all to familiar stares from other commuters, no cut off valves, when my face decides to spontaneously leak and no hope that this will ever change.
I wish I could see my old CPN. She’d know how to make me feel a little better. God I wish she’d come back…..
I’ve gone back too soon. I’m fragile and teary, and they’re piling too much on me. It’s too fast!
I can’t prep for practicals and lectures, and moderate modules and mark scientific reports
It’s too much to plan, to organise and prioritise. My threshold for stress appears quite low. How do I tell my boss to hit the brakes? How is my career ever going to survive this?
Myself and OH also had a family therapy assessment today before I went to work. I have no optimism in this regard. I can’t be fixed, nor can I speak freely in front of OH. The damage is too ingrained.
There’s too much stuff in my head, too many spinning plates. I’ve phoned and asked for more PRN, until then, I guess I just need to keeping breathing.
I’ve burned and I want to binge. I must not eat, I MUST NOT EAT!!