To sleep, per chance, to dream

I slept like the dead last night. I am hoping for a repeat tonight. While I am not med free I am off antidepressants and anxiolytics. I am on a drug called Prazosin and it is for high blood pressure. Funny thing is that this doc up here in Washington found out in the 70's that it works for PTSD by calming victims just enough to let them sleep without making them dopey or making them drug dependent.

Pretty smart doc. He is my doc kind of (now). I am beginning to believe that once I get back to sleeping regularly I will be somewhat normal. You guys remember what that is? I don't think I've ever been normal but that's a good thing. I just don't like being as weird as I have been.

You know you are getting out there when people who stay in touch suddenly drop off the face of the earth. When family forget your number. For future reference, that's when us nutjobs need you to stay in touch the most.

Granted, most of you didn't sign up to save anyone from insanity but you might find that it is a really good feeling. I know I've been there a few times pulling friends back. I've been the one being pulled back (thanks to the many who have been there, done that, got the t-shirt) and it's been more than once. I must like the view because I've seen it a few times. It's easy to blame on my life but is my life the cause or the effect of my mind games?

I try extremely hard to not let my kids end up like me but I think too often I end up driving them in that direction. In many ways, I am conflicted the most about this. I feel that I am a good father. At the same time, I feel I am the worst influence upon my children. Some of you don't know the pain I have caused and you won't find it here. Needless to say, I have been the source of a great many tears in my home.

I have been disfellowshipped. I was Excommunicated for about ten days until a review pointed out that I shouldn't have been. I cannot tell you the pain I felt from that. I have caused my children to weep and be frightened of their father. Not from violence but from psychological crap. When I was all screwed up on some of these meds I became irate with them and showed them pictures of war dead and told them these are the things stuck in my head and then proceeded to blame them for everything that I perceived to be wrong in my life. I honestly feel like just crawling away.

"And I, Moroni, will not deny the Christ; wherefore, I wander whithersoever I can for the safety of mine own life." (Moroni Ch 1:3)

I am weighed down with huge amounts of guilt because I believe in Christ but it would seem that I don't believe him. You see, repentance applies to everyone but me. Others feel this way too but follow along as I explain. I truly believe in Christ but I have to get that through my onion to where I know that I can let all of this guilt go. That it will be ok to FEEL. I relate so well with the woman taken in adultery, caught in the very act (which begs the question where was the man and why did they not drag him to Christ as well?). Christ seemingly ignored them and when their frustration levels were at their highest, he merely replied "let he that is without sin cast the first stone. Being convicted of their conscience, they left one by one from the eldest to the youngest." With just the two of them left, Christ and this woman, he looked up asking "Woman, where are thine accusers? Hath no man condemned thee? She answered, No man, Lord. whereupon he answer neither do I condemn thee. Go, and sin no more" (John 8)

Oh the relief that must have washed over her until she felt joy. I am sure that she sobbed in gratitude. I would. I know I have been forgiven of the worst of my sins but I still have yet to let them go. The haunt me still. Oh that reminds me of a dream. I will write about tomorrow.

My fingers are tired and I have some praying to do. Maybe even for you.

p.s. If you make a comment it goes to my email first where I have to approve it for publishing. Soooo, if you would like to comment but don't want it published just include that in your comment.


Butch

New Med Monday

After getting out of the Psych ward I was off meds (WOOHOO) but after a few weeks of feeling great I had a bad day and they put me on a different class of meds. That lasted until the next week and I got a new class of drug along with an anti-psychotic. I mentioned before what a boost to my self-esteem this was (NOT) but fortunately it only lasted for three days before I was taken off due to some harsh side effects. I was still on the Wellbutrin though. This was started the same Monday as the Abilify that only lasted three days. So, the following monday (today) I got taken off that and out on a hypertension medication (Prazosin) that should let me sleep. Not to be shoved aside, the psychiatrist also started Concerta for AD/HD but told to wait a week before starting it. This is to ensure that we know which med causes what effect.

My goal hasn't changed. Get sleep. Get focused again. Get off meds if possible. If you've been following this odysee you probably think I've completely lost it by now anyway. The truth is I am still fully in touch with reality and in the wisdom of a good friend from way back when; Reality Sucks.

The truth is that all these changes in medications and the ups and downs of my life have made me a truly difficult case to work. As you read through my posts it may be hard to believe that I am not insane. That is actually why the Army is now studying me.

I was reading a printout on suicide prevention while waiting for my shrink today. It has all these risk factors and lists stressful situations that lead to depression and suicide. It has several different categories and I have several from each. No wonder they categorize me as being depressed. They look at these charts and say "you're depressed. Now open up and say ahhh. Take these pills and you'll feel much better."

After a year and a half of following that, all I have to show for it is a downward spiral of performance at work and strained relationships at home and with my friends/co-workers. If you give someone who is not depressed anti-depressants what do you get? I'm betting you get depressed! Throw in some benzodiazepines and you have an opportunity to really go round the bend. Yes, I know, that's where I went.

Thank you for not giving up on me as my emotional roller coaster undulates and twists and turns. Hopefully you laugh with me to find solace in this but also learn that it's a process. I am glad to finally have a team of professionals that I am comfortable working with and that will stay with me until I am back to normal (whatever that is) or completely nuts.

Onions

Shrek: Ogres are like onions.
Donkey: They stink?
Shrek: Yes. No.
Donkey: Oh, they make you cry.
Shrek: No.
Donkey: Oh, you leave em out in the sun, they get all brown, start sproutin' little white hairs.
Shrek: NO. Layers. Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. Onions have layers. You get it? We both have layers.
[sighs]
Donkey: Oh, you both have layers. Oh. You know, not everybody likes onions.

Much like Shrek, I have layers it seems. The trick now is to peel off the layers I have spent a lifetime wrapping my self in to guard against anyone seeing my true emotions. I'm a rock, at least that's what I'd like you to believe.

As a kid many things terrified me but nothing more than someone seeing how scared I was. I would do almost anything to hide how truly frightened I was. Not much has changed since then. I stuff my emotions down deep. No time to deal with them because there is too much going on. Crying does nothing to fix the problem. That is part of my problem. I get so fixated on the issue before me that I don't deal with things emotionally. At least, I think that's what the shrinks will tell you.

So now after 40 years of not processing things emotionally I am a bit apprehensive about peeling back the layers. I took a band-aid off Zach's cut today. I grabbed one corner and ripped it off in one fell swoop. Zach was shocked and in pain. I asked him if he would have rather had me pull it off slowly and prolong the agony. He thought about it while I pulled the steri-strips off, yep you guessed it, rip, rip rip. That's how I look towards peeling the layers back.

It's gonna hurt now matter how we do it. If I didn't want to deal with it then, what makes anyone think I am going to want to deal with it now? That's what music is for. Expressing from the soul what words fail to.

Now you know why I love so many different types of music. I am emoting through music and lyrics. My psychologist asked about my blogging and asked if this wasn't for those who read it. That I am writing this for you, the reader. I answered that I thought not. It seems to me that this is for me so I don't have to watch as people see what I am saying. It distances me from my emotions so I don't have to deal directly with them. Or you for that matter. I am great at helping others with their emotions but don't even think about mine! I will crack a joke when I feel emotions coming on. That's 'how we do.'

Yes, it a defensive mechanism developed over my lifetime and it will take some serious work to overcome it. But do I really want to? I mean it isn't healthy but it's gotten me through all this stuff that others tell me they wouldn't be able to deal with. Maybe they would just be like me. That's a scary thought. More like me in the world? I know they are out there. I am raising a batch of them now. My kids look to me in crisis to know how to act. That is my major motivation in this. I don't want my kids to be like me. I want them to learn from me and avoid the pitfalls I have climbed in and out of. Of course, they will make their own mistakes but hopefully it will be at a different level and not the same old ones I keep making.

Good luck kids!

I guess I've babbled long enough. Caitlin is calling me too.

I hope this soothes those who were wondering if I was ok when I didn't add anything after saying I was going off meds. I am fine. Feeling better but I have one more med to drop. I promised I wouldn't make changes without discussing it with the docs.

Good night.

Stop the bus. I'm getting off.

Tonight will be short. These meds are making me sick so I am not taking them any longer. The cure is worse than the illness. I have an excrutiating headache, nausea, vomiting, and I just plain feel yucky.

Getting off meds was my goal. Still is so I called the doc and told him what was going on. I will focus on addressing my issues without medication.

Now I have to go puke.

Goodnight and have a pleasant tomorrow...

Jimi Hendrix Had it Right.

Jimi Hendrix had it right.

Manic Depression's a frustrating mess. As I read over my posts I watch myself swinging wildly up and down with no rhyme or reason as to why most days. Chemical imbalances can really skew your vision. And medicine changes on a regular basis make me feel like a pharmaceutical junkie.

I spent today feeling both exhausted and restless at the same time. Jittery of sorts but just plain tweakin'. Did I mention all the while trying to work?

I read the news today (oh boy) about the Soldier who snapped and killed five other servicemembers. I wonder how many different meds he's been on? I wonder how many around him saw the warning signs but dismissed them because 'he was just trying to get out of Iraq.' How many added to the problem instead of working on a solution.

I'm no where near this so don't freak about me blogging about it. 17 years of watching leaders at work, and Soldiers manipulating the system, leaves me wondering how do we fix this. I have a personal stake in it as I work around these people.

I care about these people. When I read the stories of Soldiers deaths, woundings, and issues such as this, I am reminded that 'but for the grace of God go I.'

This is someones son. His victims had families. They are just as dead as those killed by insurgents bombs and sniper fire. This will have lasting effects on those who witnessed his assault.

This is an example of what the true signature wound of this war will be; psychological trauma.

Side Effects May Vary

As promised, Monday brought me back to the psychiatrist and he stopped my Effexor XR and started me on Welbutrin and Abilify. The Welbutrin is an anti-depressant but the Abilify is an antipsychotic. Talk about improving my self-esteem. Now, I'm not only depressed, I'm psychotic!

Abilify is a psychotropic drug used to treat schizophrenia and certain symptoms of bipolar disorder. It is also used along with other medicines to treat depression...

That's what the paper says but I think he just thinks I'm crazy!

Today was spent pretty much in appointments related to my recent hospitalization. I am sick of appointments. I guess it beats working for a living!

40 years of insanity takes a while to sort out so it's a team effort. I guess I need to have a talk with my siblings who had me listening to everything from Alice Cooper, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Frank Zappa, and then for a twist we always had Abba, The Carpenters, Captain and Tenille and all the other 70's love stuff.

Oh, and then there was Barry Manilow. He writes the songs you know...at the Copa Cabana even.

Yeah, I think that definitely has something to do with my mental health. That reminds me, I also grew up listening to Hair Bands...Quiet Riot Metal Health anyone? And we thought we looked cool like that.

All in all, even though it was Monday, it wasn't bad. Even got in a group therapy session that let me know that my situation is far better than some others have it. I guess that makes me feel better knowing that some poor guy is sucking worse. Not quite sure why though. I guess just because it makes us realize that life is good so stop feeling sorry for ourselves.

You Talk Too Much

I know it's Mother's Day but I have too many instances of this topic in a 24 hour period. Maybe if I address it here, it will have some therapeutic value.

I talk too much. No, I'm not a 'great conversationalist" or an eloquent public speaker. I just plain can't shut my mouth once it opens.

Sometimes I am very quiet and you might not know this side of me. Be glad, be very glad if this is you.

Once I get to yappin', jaws a flappin', I become boorish. Much like my blog but it's harder to navigate away from me in person. I even recognize that I am talking too much but it's like my jaw is possessed and is running on autopilot.

This gets me into trouble at times too. You know, don't know when to shut up. TMI (Too Much Information) or foot in mouth syndrome. My wife calls me on it and then I know I'm in trouble. I've never had a problem sharing my opinion or vast knowledge of trivial facts with anyone whether they cared to hear them or not. We all have character defects and this is one of a suitcase full of mine.

Last night we had a great Mother's day eve dinner. The restaurant is called Marzano (I'll be writing about it separately) and is in Parkland. Outstanding food!

As we are leaving I had to comment on the conversation I was eavesdropping on at the next table. It was two older couples and working their second bottle of wine so hearing wasn't too much of an issue for us.

This simple comment turned into a conversation of over 45 minutes. When you get a couple of democrats pretty well lubed on vino and a very conservative military blabber-mouth, it's a recipe for conversational disaster.

If only I could shut my mouth. If only I could keep my opinions to myself. If only I knew more about what I was talking about BEFORE I started sharing my knowledge!


I think George Thoroughgood was singing about someone like me (You Talk Too Much). I am just like the talking heads I despise. At least they get paid to yammer.

I don't see it changing anytime soon so just try to avoid me.



I too am brimming with crap.