Day 60: Counting Again

I'm back to this. It's been a long hiatus. I had lost the challenge to post something 100 straight days. But I'm still challenging myself to reach the goal of 100 posts. Who knows. Maybe with this post I'm restarting a 100 straight day goal. Will see. Anyways, this is a day 60 post.

I'm dealing with something I've dealt with all of my life. But this time there's a definite different component to it. It's intense. It's intense in the way that I have lost any defense against it. I don't want to dignify it and call it depression. It's beyond that. It's despair. A living despair.

This past summer this drastic change took hold. For quite awhile I didn't know what had happened. Was it allergies? I have had those kick in the past years regularly. When I finally whet to a walk-in clinic, which was only about 5 or 6 weeks ago, the diagnosis was sinusitis. A bad case of it. I got the standard steroidal "cocktail shot" plus prescriptions for an antibiotic and something else I can't recall. There was some relief. But the ever-present and overbearing pressure and heaviness in my head was still there. It has taken control of my everyday movement and thinking and my ability to maintain my daily rites of living.

It has been a battle.

I am urged to return to a doctor. I resist. Because I know my bloodwork is perfect. It was checked at that last visit. And if I describe what is going on to a doctor they will instantly diagnose me as bipolar. Which I am. Or they can diagnose me with schizoaffective disorder. Which I have had. Or they can diagnose me with dysthymia. Which would be true. Major depressive disorder. Check.

And then the trial and error meds start. Which will not work. There has been only one med in my life that has made me feel a normal that I was totally unfamiliar with. And that would be an MAOI. Nardil. Or Parnate. Those worked. But the side affects about killed me. The withdrawal destroyed my ability to concentrate. It left me with severe tinnitus. I cannot read more than a few sentences. I cannot be at peace.

I know this is personal. And once again I will debate about posting this. More than likely I will. Not because it might help someone. Not even because it might help me. It's mainly because what harm is it going to do.

You might be urging me to seek professional help. I understand that completely. But I have a deep distrust of the medical profession because of my past experiences involved as a patient/client within that industry. Some very horrible experiences. I am scared of surrender. And for me that's what it would be. A surrender of my last source of strength, which is my determination to withstand whatever the gods that be have cursed me with. I truly want to believe that I can do this on my own. No matter when the world would say I can't.


That's off my chest.

It's good to type out a few paragraphs.

How about some miscellaneous, and hopefully lighter fare?

I still miss a writer who was using standard notes/listed. She was so honest. And it bugs me to death not knowing the name of her blog or journal. But I am forgetting, or not able to recall, a lot of things now. Oops. I promised lighter. lol

Okay. Here ya go...Oh my god. Another thing to keep my butt flat...

Well hell. I can't be lighter. I'm too tired. And that has nothing to do with being too crazy. So I'll call it right here.

Still, it's good to be back.

And as always...

More later. There's always more later.

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