~ Anxious anticipation ~

Anxiety Disorders Association of America

Anxiety Disorders Association of America (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So today was the day, the day I had my phone appointment to apply for ssi and Ssdi both. They are two differant types of disability benefits. So we will see what happens next. I applied on my own in September 2011 and I was denied, since then I have gotten worse. So this time I have an advocate from the dhs office assigned to me, she will be with me through every step until I receive benefits. So that’s pretty cool. In fact she was the one who set up the phone appointment for me, and said that she can come to me for future appointments. That is such a huge stress reliever, god how I dred appointments or meetings. It didn’t matter what I do or say I have a panic attack every time. It doesn’t happen the same way every time, but it never fails to happen. Sometimes it happens in the car on my way there, sometimes it happens in the waiting room once I arrive, sometimes it happens furring the appointment. I don’t understand why it happens to me. It’s so frustrating. It hasn’t always been this bad. I can remember having anxiety in high school when I was in a new group setting or alone someplace with people I didn’t know. For example: a new class or going to the cafeteria by myself. I remember having severe anxiety whenever I was expected to speak I front of the class. I know a lot of people get nervous before a presentation but what happened to me was so much more than the usual nervousness. Days before my turn to present I would start feeling nauseous and dizzy. When I imagined my self doing the presentation I would start shaking, get short of breath , my heart would beat erratically. I felt flushed and like I was going to pass out. I knew I would pass out, if not have a heart attack if I actually did the presentation so I wouldn’t go to class the days I had to present something.
I know every Job I have ever had the “meetings” whatever they were about or how ever big they were it didn’t make a difference. I panic in them. It’s pretty bad too I start shaking my voice gets quiet and sounds crackly. I have a difficult time getting the right words to come out if my mouth, I will say things all twisted up. Like if I tried saying ” there you go” it might come out as ” you there go” . Plus I start shaking, at times pretty hard too, I remember one time trying to write my name on the sign in sheet, when i finished i looked down at it and it was barely recognizable as a name if any kind. All my shaking caused it to look like a bunch of squiggly lines, not letters. I am convinced everyone thinks something is wrong with me, like I’m retarded, I actually hear people laugh and whisper. I know that it’s about me. I usually get paranoid that my breath stinks so I avoid talking and h
Chew a lot of gum.
Over the years it has gotten worse for me. Now I have been told I have agoraphobia. So my anxiety of social situations has progressed to the point where I am now having an extremely difficult time leaving the house at all. I avoid leaving in fear of having a panic attack.
Anxiously anticipating when I will have a counselor that will be coming to my home, so I can’t panic my way out of the appointments, and can finally start working through some of my issues.

~Suicide Attempt~

I tried killing myself once. I was using meth off and on, and I love being high. Its kinda like being really manic plus some paranoia, but being paranoid doesn’t bother you so much because everything else is soooo great.
I was fighting with my husband he told me we are done doing drugs which pisses me off why does it always get to be his choice? He acts like he knows whats best, like there is ever a good time for using? Well I was capable of making my own choices and told him if he wanted to quit he could but I wasn’t done yet. I took my pipe and went in the bathroom he broke the door came in there and wrestled me to the floor and taking it. I was so pissed I told him “fine I cant get high I want to die” I grabbed a bottle of Depekote and swallowed as many as I could as fast as I could. He pushed me outside yelling “your not dying in my house” and locked the door. Then he called my sister and told her what I did. My sister rushes over to take me to the hospital, so of course I get in her car and go because I wasn’t mad at her. Once I got to the hospital, they took me back and had me put on a gown, hooked up an IV,  then told me I needed to drink that charcoal stuff. They handed me the drink then left the room. I jumped up put my pants on under the gown detatched the IV from the bag and ran out of the hospital. My drug dealer lived a few blocks away so I was going to go over there get high and hopefully die. I had no idea where I was I got lost, then there was 3 nurses from the hospital trying to convince me to come back. They said at least let us take out your IV so I ripped it out and threw it at them. Then they said we will have to call the cops, suicide is a crime. I said call them and how is anyone going to press charges when I’m dead?? They called the cops. I got arrested. The officer took me to a different hospital (the one my mom died in) and I was given that charcoal stuff again and told I cant talk to my sister who was waiting in the lobby until I finished it. I was so pissed I was kicking the door and screaming I couldn’t die with her being out there all by herself. It was the same hospital mom died at. I dont think she could have handled that. So I drank that nasty stuff, puked, and they let her come back and see me. I had to talk to an on call psychiatrist and was able to convince her I was ok. so she sent me to the cardiac unit over night for obsevation. Then I was released.

~Second time~

My sister seems to come to my rescue quite often. Kinda funny considering Im older. She has always been the more responsible one. So when I need to be “mothered” she’s right there mothering. I will blog more about this later lol.
This was no exception I had lost my mind and she was frantically driving me towards a Portland hospital so I don’t kill myself. I don’t think I was really suicidal but If I could have wished myself dead I would have. I was too emotionally battered to have a “plan” or put any real effort into killing myself.
But due to past attempts I think it’s always in people’s minds.
The first hospital sign we came to was about 20 min before Portland. She took that exit and walked me into the Er. I willingly checked in and was being honest with the staff about what was going on and I was ok with everything until I asked if I could have a cigarette and they told me no. My whole attitude changed I was pissed and wanted to leave. But surprise it’s too late you have been put on a 72hr psych hold. You can’t leave. You can’t smoke. You are being transferred to another hospital, in Portland, with an open bed. That is set up for psych patients.
I remember the nurse bringing me a nicotine patch, I ripped it off and threw it. I wanted to shut my door and she said it needed to stay open. I remember slamming it shut every time she opened it. I remember her bringing in a hospital gown and telling me I needed to change. I told her no. She said you have to, we can do it the easy way or the hard way (calling the cops to hold you down as we do it for you) I said fuck that I will change. I yanked the gown from her and she just stood there. I told her “u can leave I said I would change” she said actually I can’t. I said ” you have got to be joking, you have to fucking watch me?” I couldn’t imagine it being anymore humiliating.
Since this hospital was not equipped for psych patients they put you in a room that is all windows directly in front of the nurses station. So they can watch you.
She offered me Ativan. I took it. I was aloud to have it every hour while I was waiting for transport to the other hospital. So I made a scene for it every hour on the hour. How else was I going to survive this?
After what felt like a life time, transport arrived. I was so happy to leave that hospital, and that nurse who I think enjoyed tormenting me. I really didn’t know what to expect next.
  I remember being scared and wanting to go home, and at this time  I still wasn’t sure where home was, and that scared me even more. I arrived at the hospital at.bed time………..more to come

~Hospitalized aka Hell~

Imagine. You came for help. You have no rights. You are locked in. You have no privacy. You have no identity. You have no belongings. You know who you are and why you came here. For help right??? Is it really helping?? All the therapists with their oh so familiar dialog. Groups? Time to participate. Time to take your pills. Here is a new pill lets see how it works for you.You try to escape in your mind pretending to be any where but here because any where would be better than being with the people hired to help you. Remember you cant leave until they deem you “safe” so time to start pulling it together. All the smells and sounds everything you see will be forever embedded in your memory you will never escape it. 

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