Socks and The Statue Of Liberty

I'm doing head stands in the living room.  How did I get here?  Was it all the music of the evening; music that included The Day the Music Died and Cats In the Cradle?  Was it the amazing family dinner (stew) that I made, from scratch, all by myself?  Was it the short work day and the lack of unnecessary housework I did not do?  Whatever it is or was, it's fun.

Two days ago, my socks didn't match.  Ben said, "Nice socks."  I responded with something generic saying he just liked them because they were cute.  "You're disorganized, and that's cute."  So many reasons why I love my Ben.  Later that morning he asked how much money I had.  Um, not a lot.  He handed me thirty bucks and said my hair was "fluffy".  Okay, got it.  The following morning when I woke up, he said I looked like the Statue of Liberty.  Point well taken, I got my haircut finally.  I also did a bit of laundry.  My socks match now, as "un-cute" and organized as it is.

My family pointed out something to me a couple days ago, and as I listened to music tonight, I had to keep myself from crying.  See, the boys go to school Monday through Friday, and I work on the weekends. It was an intervention that pointed out to me that we never stay home and just "relax."  We always leave the house, most days before seven thirty in the morning, and do our lives.  It took an intervention and Cats In The Cradle to help me realize that we have been living lives of doing, rather than living.  We live at home.  We're never here.  I have taught my children the art of not relaxing, and that isn't fair.  It was also addressed that we never have a "whole" day together.  We never are together morning, noon, night... all in the same day.

For obtaining so much control, I really have none.  My family should come first, right?  I have control now over my socks, my hair, my house, my blog (?), and... my time?

I guess I have to learn to let the socks be socks, matching or not, my head of hair challenge the Statue of Liberty's beauty, the ants run the bathroom counter, and headstands rule the living room.  I think it's getting us far.

I have only a few Trazodone pills left.  I have been taking 25 milligrams per evening, down from 100 to 150 per evening.  I think it's time to taper off, face the withdrawl beast again.  Afterall, one medication down and life is looking up.  Just one more, and I'll be free....
to do headstands, play the music loud, and leave the dishes in the sink, right?

GO BACK TO MEDICATION!!!

I know you think medication is going to "save me" and help my family.  That seems to be a valid idea, judging by the circumstances.  However, there's something you should know.

I did not stop taking medication against my psychiatrist's treatment plan.  I have to get that out there.  The only thing I did differently is that I stopped completely and did it cold turkey.  The withdrawl was unbearable, but necessary.  The reason it had to happen so quickly is because I moved back to Oregon, and my psychiatrist was unable to renew my prescription for me.  I had two choices.  I either needed to expedite my end date for taking medication, or I needed to find some county doctor to re-evaluate and medicate me.

Doctors love to change people's medications.  They love making whatever cocktail they can to appease the drug companies who produce them.  I don't want to be their guinnie pig.  No way.  I wasn't about to switch doctors and have them try to give me Seroquel (an  atypical antipsychotic) again.  No way.  

Many people think I have "episodes" and problems coping because I have stopped taking my SSRI.  However, the episodes were more frequent and more severe while on medication.  Stopping the medication has put me in a place where I can control my emotions much better, just as therapy has helped me understand my emotions.  You (you know if I mean you) are only noticing the episode now because you read about it and how painful it is for the first time.  You associated it with medication because you are uninformed.  Here's the information.  Read it, research it, then judge if you must.

First of all, there is no medication to treat OCPD.  There are other mental problems that arise with OCPD such as depression and anxiety, caused by the strife the OCPD person feels each day.  There are medications to treat both anxiety and depression, and they should be used where needed.  However, what do you do if you only have OCPD with transitional anxiety?  I was never depressed.  I should never have been given an SSRI.  There are other illness where medication is required, and when stopping the medication leads to horror stories (such as mood disorders ,Schizoaffective disorder, and others).  Keep in mind as well, that you'll never feel as good as you do after your first hit of SSRI, according to some.

However, America and big business drug companies want to sell their products.  I was given my first cocktail four years ago, without a diagnosis or a way out.  I was given an SSRI for keeping my house too clean.  Strange, isn't it?

My prescription of celexa in the morning and trazodone in the evening left me fuzzy, to say the least.  It's difficult to explain, but I see it like having a bag over my head.  I was unable to see the details because of fuzziness; I could not get excited.  I was not sad and angry.  Very rarely was I motivated to do anything besides the day to day mundaneness of life.  It is a sad reality, really.  However, I tend to take my situation and my surroundings and make the best of it.  So, when I wanted to feel something, I'd get drunk.  Makes sense, right?  Drunk is a feeling.  Right.  When I say I drank a lot, I mean, A LOT.  If you want the amount just ask.

When I spoke with my psychiatrist (a real psychiatrist) for the first time, he was shocked and dismayed that I had been on medication for so long, let alone on meds at all.  His first priority was to get me off medication and into psychotherapy.  He said the medication was hindering, not helping me.  I needed to be in control of my feelings to be able to live with myself and learn about myself.  I thrived with control in my world.  He asked what made me think I could be successful if I couldn't control the one most important human trait: feelings.  That was four months before we moved home to Oregon.

When I was faced with the option of continuing my "drug" addiction to Celexa, or just facing the withdrawl (the scariest part) of stopping, and getting it over with.  That is what my previous blog was referring to.  

I am going to include a page on my blog for you to view which will include various articles and sources regarding medication use for OCPD.  Please research and form your own opinion; after all, I'm just a girl with an illness.