I’m sure you’ve all noticed that I haven’t been on as much recently.  I haven’t been on Plurk, Twitter (through Brizzly), or Facebook.  Well, I’ve been on Facebook mostly playing Farmville, Mafia Wars, Castle Age, and Mouse Hunt.  I haven’t been posting through Ping.fm or commenting much or even chatting on Trillian Astra.  I haven’t been reading blogs (though if you post of LiveJournal on my friends page I do read that) or posting on my own.  So what happened?  No, I didn’t just lose interest in the people I care about.  I went on a downward spiral and it was not fun.

It started out innocently enough.  I though it was my PMS acting up.  You know, getting me down, etc.  It wasn’t all that bad, though it was noticeable.  The next week I got sick.  I mean really sick.  I left work early on Monday, January 4.  I was definitely sick because going home that day cost me my the holiday pay from New Year’s Day.  Medco has a rule that you have to work 9 hours and 55 minutes the day before and the day after a holiday to get the holiday pay.  (Although if you do have the day scheduled off  ahead of time you do get the holiday.  Same if they offer VTO that day.)  I thought that caused the downess (is that a word?  Spell check says no.  Oh well, I’m using it anyways!) that week.  I saw my psychiatrist that week on Thursday and told her things were pretty much okay although we did raise the Celexa (or citalopram, if you prefer the generic name) for the week before and of my period and we added trazodone since the Celexa was causing me to twitch when I tried to go to sleep and wake up several times in the morning.  However, by the end of the time I saw my therapist on Friday I was not doing so great.  The following Monday I saw my psychiatrist again.  We decided try canceling the trazodone and start Ambien.  I saw Melissa again that Friday.  I still wasn’t doing well.  I was cryey (yes, another made up word!), lacked self confidence and self esteem, and was much more sensitive.  I’m generally a sensitive person, but it gets worse when the depression gets worse.  Then I got my period.  Oh God, the pain.  Nothing seem to help but heat.  I was unable to do taxes Saturday night and spent all day Sunday in bed on the heating pad.  I can’t take ibuprofen so no Advil, Aleve, etc.  *sigh*  I tried etodolac, but it didn’t seem to help.  Luckily the worst part was on Saturday and Sunday, both days on which I do not work.  I’m actually thinking of asking for something stronger for next time.  Vicodin, maybe.  Yeah, it’s that bad.  That was the weekend.

Monday was great.  I was feeling fine (okay, I had some residual pain, but nothing like the weekend) and was feeling better.  I never got the Ambien so I figured it wasn’t the trazodone that was causing the problem.  (I had wondered about that, considering how my symptoms disappeared once I stopped taking certain medications on a regular basis.)  Wednesday I saw Melissa and discussed it and we agreed that it didn’t seem to be the problem.  It was a hectic week.  On Monday they made an announcement that overtime was desperately needed and that if they didn’t reach the 20% mark that they would have to mandate overtime.  So I signed up for 11 hours that week during weekdays and was considering working on the weekend, especially Sunday.  Why Sunday?  They give doubletime on Sundays for any week you work 8 hours of overtime Monday through Saturday on.  When I found out that Tom had decided to work that weekend so he could get more money and 2700 miles (a record, legal high for him) i thought great! Extra money!  It would really work out.  It didn’t.

Thursday started out as an okay day.  I was more stressed than usual since I had worked 4 hours of OT already.  Then we had Wow awards.  A lot of people diss the Wow awards but they do mean something to me.  Two people who don’t like me both got awards for something I do all the time.  One of them I do several times a day, even several times a shift.  I, however, don’t have tons of friends so I don’t really get nominated for a Wow unless I ask for it.  I even do more than that to help the customers get what they want.  It kinda made me angry which of course got suppressed and turned into depression.  By my 8:45 pm break, I was starting to stutter.  I’ve stuttered with my depression before so I knew it was that.  All week (and the week before) I had been escaping from my seat to the bathroom to spend a few minutes reading.  No, not the most diligent, but when you’re trying to keep from falling apart on the floor with people who are mean and don’t like you a few seats down, you do whatever works.  After my last break at 11 pm, I went to the bathroom and texted Tom. I basically asked him (okay, begged him) if it would be okay if I didn’t do OT the next day.  My ability to make decisions that may upset someone goes down to almost nil when I’m depressed.  Okay, that might have been before my last break.  Actually, I think it was.  My memory also suffers when my depression gets worse.  I also tend to have problems finding words, although that hasn’t really shown up this time.  After my last break, I started shaking.  I had been jumping, but it got worse.  I was starting to lose it, so I headed to the private bathroom to call Mom.  We decided that I definitely shouldn’t work on Friday and that I shouldn’t work post shift ot that night.  Mom told me to call her when I got home.  Then I called Tom. I was scared and feeling alone and just wanted reassurance and love.  Big mistake that I won’t make again.  He was sleepy and almost immediately told me to go to the hospital.  *sigh*  I didn’t need a hospital.  I needed support.  I managed to get him off the phone, cried a little bit more, and went out to find a lead or supervisor to cancel my ot.  I felt like such a failure.  A complete failure.  I hate it when I can’t do what I said I’d do, but I couldn’t help it.  I really couldn’t.

I’ve been stuttering on and off all weekend.  Sometimes I can force myself to not stutter, but it takes a lot of work.  I’ve never stuttered this bad before.  I was hoping a weekend of relaxation would cure the stuttering and I would just have to get through another week.  Hasn’t happened.  I’ve done a couple things to make me happier.  I got nails put on with a really cool prismatic purple polish.  I also got a haircut. I want to get contacts, but I chickened out on Friday.  I’ll have to try again next week.  I don’t see either Melissa or Dr. Cutlip next week.  I will be calling Dr. Cutlip.  The downward turn might have been caused be the cessation of the risperidone.  The doc told me it takes about 3 months to get stuff out of your system.  I stopped it in the middle of November.   It’s about 2 and 1/2 months now.  That could definitely be it, but I don’t want to go back on it if I don’t have to.  I lost between 15 and 20 pounds in about a month when I went off of it.  It took all summer to lose the other 15 or so pounds, just as a comparison.  I don’t know what we’ll put me on or I’ll get just an antidepressant or both an antidepressant and an anti-anxiety medication.  I’m scared. I don’t think I’ll talk to anyone at work until I stop stuttering.  Well, if I can help it.  I’m miserable.  I’m lonely.  I’m not very fond of life right now.  I hope this improves. Quickly.