Vulnerability is Strength

As much as I love writing potential scenes between my and another character in my friends’ Exalted (tabletop role-playing / collective storytelling) game, I feel like I’ve been getting too far ahead of what has actually happened in the game. It’s been a difficult temptation to resist, so I tried to compromise by initiating a conversation with the player of the other character – in which I intended for us to discuss how the bond between our characters might develop. I figured if I’m gonna keep getting ahead of things, it’s better to do so with the other player’s input instead of allowing myself to become overly attached to an alternative / inaccurate version of his character.

Instead we ended up having an awesome, rather long conversation that included the friend who pulled him into the game and mostly had nothing to do with Exalted. We geeked out, laughed at ridiculous YouTube videos, and were otherwise very silly together – which was just what I needed, honestly; it was so much fun! At one point the conversation took a surprisingly personal turn, considering it was like maybe my fourth time talking to this individual and the first time that wasn’t primarily focused on gaming. We touched briefly on some of the trauma / loss we’ve each experienced, were honest and supportive of each other, and agreed that it’s important to be vulnerable. I shared that that’s something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember: whether it was needing to suppress my grief in order to function in school, trying to “be strong” for my mom because (I thought) she couldn’t handle my emotions, or otherwise just wanting to ignore my depression and have a “normal” life, I have fairly consistently fallen into the trap of what my friends called stoicism and I’ve seen referred to online as toxic masculinity.

Vulnerability is a theme that’s gaining prominence in the scenes I’ve been writing between the two characters. My ‘healer’ character initially wants to ‘fix’ the ‘wounded’ character; they avoid touching this individual because doing so evokes overwhelming emotions that make them feel vulnerable, and that terrifies them. But even in the earliest scenes I wrote they tell their story and literally show their wounds (scars), revealing that in a way the two characters aren’t that different. In one scene they instinctively reach for the ‘wounded’ character’s hand as the latter leads them through the Underworld; the ‘wounded’ character responds by squeezing the ‘healer’ character’s hand reassuringly (and it works). In another scene my ‘healer’ character braves their fear of touch and vulnerability to hug the ‘wounded’ character, with the intention of supporting them through a particularly difficult and absolutely essential milestone. Both characters end up holding / supporting each other while crying on each other’s shoulders; in that moment the two characters are both simultaneously ‘wounded’ and ‘healer.’ It becomes a milestone in both characters’ growth, as well as the development of the relationship / bond.

In the most recent scene I’ve written, the ‘healer’ character is severely wounded in battle and ends up unconscious. The ‘wounded’ character holds them until they awake because that is the only way to keep them safe, warm, and relaxed enough to get the rest they need to heal. Upon waking, the ‘healer’ character is able not only to accept but to enjoy the touch, and is finally honest regarding their ambivalence toward intimacy / vulnerability with the ‘wounded’ character. While explaining this they begin to consciously acknowledge that they trust in the ‘wounded’ character as a result of that character’s actions, which are more important than the character’s status as a Deathknight instead of a Solar. The two are finally able to enjoy being close without the ambivalence / awkwardness that has defined their relationship up to this point. (Of course the scene is getting way, way ahead of the game and relies on my – not necessarily the other player’s – interpretation of how the ‘wounded’ character may develop.)

For so long my whole inner Committee has perceived the Wounded One as needing protection, incapable of fending for themself or really doing anything. We – especially the Healer – haven’t considered the Wounded One’s agency or strengths, to the point that they may not even be aware of them. But the Wounded One was the first out of all of us; they created many if not all of us. Maybe we need to trust them more.

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Loving Shadow – Part 3

This is Part 3 of a rather long journal entry I wrote recently and decided to break into 3 parts. Part 1 provides some background information that may be helpful for understanding this and the previous part. Part 2 introduces 2 characters who seem to represent aspects of my psyche that need to learn to work together: the Healer and the Wounded One. In this post I describe how I would like to see their relationship progress, particularly in terms of my character’s (the healer’s) role and development.

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20 years

I’m too young for it to be 20 years since my dad died.

I’m sad.

I’m angry. At the cancer. At tobacco companies. At the hospital. At Dad.

I’m angry about how the new chair of my state Green Party is treating me, and I’m about ready to be done with it all together, but I care too much about the people in my local and resigning feels like abandoning them. And I don’t know whether my feelings like I’m not a very good chair and they’d be better off with someone else are a realistic assessment of the situation, or the depression, because it’s been really bad lately.

I’m not sure to what degree the two are related, but they’re happening at the same time, and it’s frustrating the hell outta me.

20 years and I’m still trying to squash my emotions and continue with business as usual, and when that fails I’m playing video games until my eyes bleed. And when I do want to focus on this ridiculous mess of emotions, I can’t help thinking about what certain people in the state party leadership have said to me, how they’re slandering Ron & me, how they’re disrespecting me and my local.

I need space for me but I’m struggling to create that space.

I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m angry.

I’m grateful for my mom stepping up as a single parent to raise me. She’s been there through thick and thin. She’s still supporting me and Fox. And she’s been working hard, learning a lot, coming to respect me more as a person and an adult. Whatever my relationship with my dad (and my mom) could have been, I kinda mourn it but it also doesn’t really matter (and I get the impression it would be worse).

My relationship with Mom, now, is what’s important. It’s something we’ve struggled with, something we’ve fought through, something we’ve cried and argued over, something I’ve dragged kicking and screaming out of the mud, something we’ve both worked our asses off for … and we’ve come out the better, closer, for it. And there’s still a lot of work and growth and that’ll probably be a lifetime effort … but it’s there and it’s REAL and it’s OURS.

Each year I’ve been counting how long it’s been, and I think it was last year that I realized I wasn’t really mourning missing wishing I still had him in my life … I’ve been celebrating. 20 years of survival. 20 years of LIFE. 20 years of me and my mom not killing each other, lol. 20 years of us CREATING our own relationship and our own lives.

In my last music therapy session Wakana got me to sing about all this. I sang/said that I had pulled myself together from the ashes, and when they say ‘rise from the ashes’ they don’t say how hard it is to pull each individual ash in and make something new from it. But it’s what I do, it’s my nature, even though it hurts and even though I’m tired. Whatever happens, I rise. I rise. I rise. I rise.

And it’s not just her it’s my wonderful family and friends. Fox & Banji were both here for me big time yesterday. My uncle & aunt (Mom’s brother & sister-in-law) came to visit while Mom was away; they took me to dinner and lunch the next day and we had some wonderful conversation. And over the holidays it was so wonderful to spend time with my family and friends.

I felt alive in a way I hadn’t since getting caught up in all this political bullshit.

I felt whole again.

5 Years!!!

a day with depression turned 5 years old on Tuesday!

Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com! You registered on WordPress.com 5 years ago. Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging.

I’ll admit I haven’t gone back to look through my 5 years of blogging, and I’ve been posting a lot less regularly as of late, but this blog has been a real help for me. I’m glad I have a space to share experiences that people don’t always talk about (though it’s getting better), that can be rather isolating. I’m grateful for the community I found on WordPress, particularly other mental health bloggers. I miss Blog for Mental Health, maybe we can pick that up again.

In the time since starting this blog I have …

  • had the pleasure of “parenting” 3 pairs of rats
  • learned a great deal about intersectional feminism
  • socially transitioned from the gender I was assigned at birth to nonbinary / enby
  • gotten married
  • become a zillion times more confident and assertive
  • healed a great deal
  • come to accept that mental health “recovery” is a never-ending, nonlinear process
  • made some absolutely amazing friends
  • become engaged in activism and politics
  • learned so much
  • learned that I have so much more to learn
  • figured out what meds work for me – including that I don’t need the clonazepam
  • developed kickass coping skills for anxiety and depression

There’s been a lot of drama in the Green Party as of late, throughout the US and unfortunately also in my state. It breaks my heart, really, because we have much much more important things to focus on. I’ve been feeling incredibly overwhelmed and not focusing on what I need to do to live a fulfilling life.

(Ironically – or perhaps not – the latest drama in my state party is uncannily similar to what happened to someone else back in March:

it has to do with people he loved betraying him, and feeling powerless to change what’s going on in an organization he’s supposed to be a leader of. An organization he led very well, and changed for the better, but that’s not what some of its most powerful leaders – his former and my current friends – are focusing on.

(These same people – my “friends” – are now verbally wrecking the latest person they’ve forced to leave: Ron.)

So, I’ve decided to end my involvement in my state party. I will probably continue to help organize locally, and engage in nonpartisan activism, but I need to take a step back from this stuff and pick up the life I’ve put on hold for a year and a half. I’m grateful for the actual friendships I’ve made, my relationship with Ron, the experiences I’ve had, everything I’ve learned, the skills I’ve developed, all of it.

Now it’s time to start a new chapter.

Just Lamotrigine

… yeah. I didn’t take the trazodone Wednesday night, nor Thursday, nor last night. And I’m doing better. I feel like I’ve woken up from a bad dream. And speaking of dreams, I’m back to my usual anxiety dreams – which I KNOW are dreams once I wake up. So much better.

My anxiety is kinda overwhelming tho. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel like this. I have a thing I need to be not only present at but act in a professional capacity. I think I can deal with it, but I’d wanted to go to a cultural event at my local library – no pressure there, just show up have fun and leave. But I was kinda freaking out about it – especially the leaving and getting to my later commitment on time part – so I guess I’m not gonna go. It’s just easier that way. There will be other opportunities … right?

*sigh*

I’m kinda doubting whether I’ll ever be able to find and maintain gainful employment.

I don’t want to stay on just lamotrigine, and either way I’ve been thinking for a while that it would be good to increase my dose slightly. I’m debating whether I should ask to go back on fluvoxamine or clonazepam. The former was a rocky start, but I got used to it and I think staying on it might’ve been good for me. The latter … I don’t think I ever had any problems with it – I don’t remember any. It helped with my anxiety. It’s not the safest med in the world but you know what, fuck it. I’d rather be functional while I’m alive than live longer.

Something tells me getting my prescriber to agree to this won’t be easy. I’m writing her a letter in hopes that will prevent me from ‘acting irrationally’ at our next appointment.

Quit Playing Games with My Brain

Disclaimer: Anytime I write about medications, I’m sharing my own thoughts and experiences. This is NOT medical advice.

I had a rough time on the fluvoxamine maleate, at least initially. September was a stressful month anyway, though. So, it’s kinda hard to determine whether the problems I faced were a response to stress, a reaction to my meds, or some combination. All I know is I started occasionally mispronouncing words that normally I’d have no problem pronouncing correctly. I had to stop most of my Green Party activity because I was getting too overwhelmed. And I was suicidal.

I visited with Banji the first weekend in October and felt much, much better by the end of it. But I’d already told my prescriber about being unhappy with the fluvoxamine, and she’d already switched me to a new medication. Almost reluctantly, I weaned myself off fluvoxamine this past weekend and started taking trazodone.

The only things I’m happy about on trazodone are that 1) I’ve stopped mispronouncing words, and more importantly 2) I had the good sense to make sure I wouldn’t be driving for 5 hours on a new med!

Since I started taking trazodone Sunday night, I’ve had weird, vivid, disturbing dreams that it’s taken me a while to realize (once awake) were dreams. I’m having a harder time falling asleep, in part because the occasional involuntary muscle movements are becoming more frequent. I feel like I’m having trouble staying asleep, but that could be because my sleep cycle is shifted later than it should be. I feel groggy and tired. I’m anxious and having trouble concentrating and following conversations. On Monday while driving I couldn’t see the sign for the place we were going until we were practically there. When people gave me directions I heard “right” and thought “left” until the last moment. When I speak I’m too aware of my mouth movements and I feel like I’m listening to someone else.

When I told Ron about this stuff, ze said, “If you feel like your brain is broken, the trazodone is doing its job. It’s a hospital med used to shut down the brain of a patient who is psychotic and make them sleep. As an outpatient, if you are not psychotic, you have no business taking those meds.”

Ze urged me to find a new prescriber. I … I can’t. Not like this. And even if I were 100% on top of everything, I’d probably have to make my first appointment at least a couple months in advance. And that’s assuming the places I called even had mental health prescribers available – most are already overwhelmed with too many clients.

IF I remember our conversation correctly, my prescriber said I could try this med for a few days and stop taking it if I didn’t like it. I’m sure I remember her telling me I don’t have to wait a whole month, and I don’t think she said I should call before stopping. But I’ve been thinking for a while that I’d rather take just the lamotrigine if that’s what it takes. Maybe all I need is another slight increase, I’m on a pretty low dose.

Being on clonazepam wasn’t perfect, and I know there can be risks – particularly addiction. I feel like my sleep was more satisfying on the fluvoxamine. But I miss the way my brain worked on clonazepam. I rarely felt anxious – that’s probably the most important thing. I might’ve felt depressed, but I was functional. I knew I could do what I needed or wanted, and when I tried I would usually succeed. Now …

Good Bye Clonazepam

I took my last dose of Clonazepam today. I’d been thinking for a while that it might make more sense to stop taking it than to fill the new prescription and drag out another month of taking these half-doses, which don’t do the job but still run the risk of interactions and side effects. I called my prescriber to make sure that would be okay, and she gave the go-ahead. So starting tomorrow I’ll just be taking Lamotrigine, Fluvoxamine Maleate, and the supplements I’ve found helpful: omega 3, vitamin D, and a vitamin B complex.

So far I haven’t noticed any ill effects from the Fluvaxamine, so I guess that’s a good sign. I don’t really feel like it’s kicked in yet; I hope it does soon because I’ve been … well … I’ve spent the last 3 days inside playing Skyrim all day. Today I kept getting interrupted and feeling too overwhelmed to do anything useful, so more Skyrim. Mostly because of politics, drama, and financial issues that I don’t really feel like getting into right now … though … I dunno, other folks are venting to me, and I don’t know who I can talk to about it so … whatever.