A couple of days ago I had a post called “Exercise is my antidepressant.” I realized today that more importantly exercise is my anti-anxiety medication. Anxiety is harder for me than depression to control or rise above. Anxiety makes me do really stupid knee jerk things.
My current anxiety is causing me to fight the urge to write to my stepdaughters and passive aggressively let them know how their dad has ruined my life. I believe I probably will not succumb to that, but I think about it.
I think about driving to my husband’s apartment (that is still filled with my personal belongings) and spying to see who this woman is and what she has that I don’t. But I have resisted that for months now because I keep telling myself that it doesn’t matter. His horrible treatment of me is all I need to know about the man. Why would I want him back when he can treat me this way? Why would I want to hurt myself more by knowing about her?
I am angry at myself for feeling love and compassion for him in spite of everything because he obviously feels nothing for me. In all my years of relationships and breakups, I’ve never had a man turn so utterly cold and unfeeling towards me. It has shaken me badly and seriously makes me doubt he ever loved me. I am pretty sure he did love me, but he needs to justify his behavior now, so he has made me out to be a monster.
Back to exercise being my medication, outside of seeing my counselor once a week for an hour there is nothing else I can do to comfort myself. Nothing at all. If I weren’t so anxious, I could try the belly breathing my counselor recommends or take up meditation, but those things don’t really fit my personality. I do, however, stop and take slow deep breaths when I’m beginning to panic. But swimming is the only thing that truly changes me for hours and hours. Endorphins, yay.
I feel that for me, psychiatric medication ruined my life. I was on every conceivable one at every conceivable dose and all I did for years and years and only got worse to the point that my doctor recommended electro convulsive therapy and I shudder to think that I actually did it twice. Not long after that my husband (the kind and decent one) threw up the white flag and said to me, “I can’t take another 20 years of this.” And in that one statement, I lost him.
Who would want to take another 20 years of that? I wouldn’t. I don’t blame him a bit for wanting to move on with his life and I am glad that he found happiness with someone else because he deserves it. He did not turn his back on my daughter, who was 13 when I married him. He and his current spouse are taking her to Italy this summer. That’s what a remarkable man he is. I hope he has forgiven me because I have tremendous guilt over what I put him through.
Sometimes I feel what I’m going through now is karma for ruining my last marriage.
If only I had come to the realization then, that I have had in the last four months, I’d still be with him. He was my best friend. Psychiatrists can give me labels and titles and I may fit the description, but I have to learn to behave differently in spite of what’s wrong with me because no one will want to be with me if I don’t. In behaving differently, I am teaching myself to BE different. To be the person I know I am inside, and the person I know I can be.
Do I want my future to be living in a tiny apartment on an unbelievably small income for the rest of my life? With all my friends also poor women who have found themselves in a similar situation? No. I refuse to be that person. That’s no life at all.
In the coming months, while it doesn’t feel like it at all right now, I will get up on my feet and resume my life. My life is not over or ruined. My life has just taken a very sharp turn.
I watch commercials for psychiatric medication and I shudder. Antidepressants which have the possible side effect of making you suicidal? Why would the FDA approve that? Of course we all know why. All of the side effects of most of these drugs make them not worth taking. Just the sexual side effects and weight gain alone would be enough to depress a normal person. “Take this drug and you’ll get fat and be unable to orgasm, but yay!”
I’m no expert, obviously, but I feel from my own experience, that people like me, with anxiety, depression, even a personality disorder, are better off learning how to react and respond to the stresses of our lives, through cognitive behavior therapy, exercise, and other tools, but not with anti anxiety or anti depression drugs.
That said, I am taking Welbutrin for depression right now and I have no idea if it’s helping, but I know it does not cause weight gain and I can’t actually think of any side effects it might have. I plan to go off it in six months or a year and see how I do.
For the first time in years the only thing I take at night are two small melt in your mouth tabs of Melatonin. Because the old antidepressants used to make my mouth so dry, I drank water constantly, which meant I was up twice in the night to use the bathroom. I sleep through the night now, usually. And even though I’m only getting between 5 and 7 hours a night, it’s natural sleep, and I’m grateful for it.
If I think about how I wasted almost 20 years of my life by being weak, sick, and a pawn of the pharmaceutical manufacturing industry, not to mention a pawn of my psychiatrist, I am overwhelmed. I hope I never have to see another psychiatrist or a psych ward for the rest of my life.
My development has been stunted and I have so much catching up to do. And what if I’m delusional? What if no one could ever love me again after what I’ve done to mess up my life?
My god, just stop.
I have to remember: I am not a drug addict. I am not an alcoholic. I have never stolen anything or been in a jail. I am not, however I feel right now, THE WORST PERSON IN THE WORLD. I have made some pretty big mistakes and caused mostly myself a lot of heartache but I am fairly certain there is hope for me yet.
I have so much I want to do and see and learn. I have so much love to give. I am 56 years old and I do not have any more time for the kinds of antics I put myself and others through in the past. That is behind me now and will not be my future.
I wish I could speak with more confidence on this matter. I can only say, I’m pretty sure it will end up ok and that I am deserving of another chance at a happy life, no matter how much my husband might disagree.
This is not the life I envisioned for myself as a young woman but it is my reality. I am intelligent, compassionate, generous, and pretty enough to hope that I will be able to share my life with a man who appreciates who I am and feels that I enrich his life. I hope I’m right.
My husband said he’d get back to me tomorrow about whether he’ll work on my website or not. Fair enough. But I pray he will because I really enjoyed focussing on that and without it I feel so lost and have definitely noticed I am struggling more. Work is the best distraction.
I’m envious of him. He has his girlfriend. He has his many friends. He’s on the phone constantly with his mother, father, or daughters. And here I sit, bored and lonely.
I’m trying so hard to not feel like a loser.
I’m so sorry. I’m trying as hard as I can to be optimistic and not write myself and my future off, but I’m losing the battle. I simply can’t seem to cope with the humiliation and rejection of it all.
I watched A Streetcar Named Desire last night, my favorite film, but I knew I should not have. Blanche and I have too much in common and I relate to her more than you can imagine.
All she was asking for was one more chance to find happiness but Stanley made sure that would never happen. I hope she went off to the insane asylum and stayed in her imaginary world because the reality of her situation would have been too horrible to process.
I will swim today, after breakfast, but for the first time I don’t think it will have an impact on me. I have failed at this life. The rain won’t stop. I have no one. I don’t think I can go on.