I’ve been avoiding the Internet — Twitter, Facebook except for my Mafia Wars account, my blog, your blogs, even e-mail when possible. It’s a sign of depression for me. But this time I’m determined to continue blogging, no matter how difficult it is. I’m at least getting out of bed, though I haven’t been showering every day, if at all. My hygiene is at a minimum. I mean, by the time I’m done using the bathroom, I’m pooped. Haha. Seriously, I am drained.

This last bout of depression was beginning to improve, especially because I was also finished PMSing. Then an incident occurred on Saturday morning. We were supposed to take Basil to the vet for a tech appointment (not a full exam) at 10:30. I hadn’t gone to the bathroom yet, and by the time I did, we were running late. I can’t remember exactly what happened, but Brian and I began yelling each other, I began feeling extremely anxious — while on the frickin’ toilet — and scratched up my left arm. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until it was all red and the top blood vessels had burst like they do when I scratch a hive or mosquito bite more than I ought to. It wasn’t my intention to harm myself; it was very much like wringing my hands or working a piece of fabric (like from my shirt hem) between my thumb and forefinger when I’m anxious.

I had already had bad IBS experiences the few days before, and my self-disgust was — is — at an all-time high. I realize this isn’t my fault, that it’s the IBS, but I’m still not convinced because going to the bathroom is something we learn to control at an early age. This incident on Saturday plunged me into yet another depression. I had already seen our family doctor earlier that week, who prescribed something that’s like a preemptive Immodium. I can’t remember what it’s called. I took it for the first time that morning, 15 minutes before eating, as directed. The only real difference was that when I had to go, it wasn’t as incredibly urgent as usual — just that I didn’t have to go early enough to give me time to get ready to leave the apartment.

Anyway, I haven’t even wanted to talk to my therapist on the phone, but I have. I have a follow-up appointment with the doctor in about a month. In the meantime I’m supposed to get an MRI for my ankle and some sort of nerve test that will hopefully explain why my left hand suddenly goes numb sometimes. Not numb like I can’t feel it; more like pins and needles, even though I haven’t been sitting on it.

I’m trying not to stress eat, and it’s been tough. But seriously, the last thing I need is to gain even more weight.

I saw the pdoc yesterday. He brought up ECT. This morning I thought fine, let’s do this. I’m sick of feeling the way I do. I don’t want to try yet another med that I’ve already tried only for it to work for a month or so and then stop working. But I’ve been through the list of SSRIs and everything else but the tricyclics and oral MAOIs.

When I went to the bathroom this morning it was with every intention of getting in the shower afterwards but when it came time, I just couldn’t. I’m not even sure I didn’t have the energy so much as I just didn’t have the will. The motivation. And motivation is a HUGE red flag, which is why I was all about ECT this morning.

Brian took me to see my therapist this afternoon, and I changed my mind about the ECT, at least for now. We worked out that the kernel of my day-to-day depression right now and for a while, has been the IBS. So the plan is to see my family doctor and find out if I need to see a gastroenterologist or another colorectal surgeon. My current IBS doc is a CRS in the suburbs. He isn’t in the far suburbs, but I want someone closer to home.

Meanwhile, after the pdoc mentioned ECT yesterday and went through my chart and realized I’d been on all these different types of antidepressants, he suggested EMSAM, which is a patch. I reminded him that I’d tried that already, but I couldn’t remember why it didn’t work. I was ambivalent about it, so he wrote a separate prescription for it (he writes the Rx for all 3 of my meds on 1 sheet of his Rx pad). Like the Abilify, which I was on when it first came out, I was put on EMSAM when it first came out, so like the Abilify last spring, I will probably try EMSAM again.

Although EMSAM is an MAOI, it doesn’t have the dietary restrictions (no chocolate, cheese, wine unless you want to die, for real) that traditional MAOIs do, although according to their medication guide, at a 9mg patch, you can’t eat those foods. I’m starting on 6mg. There’s also a contraindication with using Tegretol, but Tegretol is also contraindicated for birth control pills and that’s never been a problem. So I’m waiting to hear back from him about whether or not I should use it because I will not take any other mood stabilizer other than Tegretol.

Aside from that, there’s the whole logistics of the thing. He said to put it on early in the morning so I’d be able to sleep at night, but wasn’t sure if it’s OK to take it off like, while working out or showering. There was nothing on the web site mentioning it, either. So I’m having obsessive thoughts/anxiety about how to use it: is it OK to take it off for a little while? What if I take it off for more than 2 hours? What if it doesn’t stick back on? Etc.

On the other hand, though I’m using everything in my willpower that I have to write this post, I honestly don’t know if I’ll have it to drive myself to my fitness class tomorrow. Perhaps I need to readjust my goals as far as that goes.

Brian took a long lunch to drive me to the first session of my fitness class last week. Several times during the lecture portion I nearly burst into tears and started hyperventilating, manifestations of panic attacks for me. Luckily, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths prevented them. It was tough, though.

I had a feeling I’d be the youngest one in the class and I was. I also had a feeling I’d be the healthiest and I probably am, since some of the other members are there on doctors’ orders. By no means am I healthy, though. For almost a year all I’ve really done is move from the bed to my desk to the couch sometimes back to bed and almost always back to my desk. This past summer I did pretty well getting out of the house, but that was the exception rather than the norm.

Maybe because it was the first day of class, but it was more lecture than workout. Last week’s topic was balance and how your abs are basically key to having good balance, which I don’t have, really. I know, it’s weird considering I play hockey, but as the instructor said, lots of things can change your gait, like injuries. Goaltending has caused me to have trouble aligning my hips in yoga because even though I used to be able to do the splits on ice, my hips weren’t straight — they faced whatever direction the puck was in.

Anyway, the “workout” portion consisted of the instructor’s aide demonstrating floor/mat abs exercises; then we split into groups and were shown 3 different abs machines and how to use them. That was pretty helpful because any abs work I’ve done in the past was mat work.

So I thought this thing was only once a week. I was wrong. I had no idea we’d have homework, or “labs” as they like to call it. This week, it consists of taking at least one of a list of classes that help build core strength and working out on 3 of the abs machines. There are exercises you can do at home for extra credit, too. Here’s my problem: Brian drove me to that first class last week, and I should be able to drive myself to the gym once a week. But now it turns out I have to be there more often.

Aside from my whole driving issue, there’s the IBS issue because the classes are at times when I haven’t used the bathroom yet, or when I’m not even sure if I’ll need to go that day. Granted, you don’t have to complete the labs the week it’s assigned, but as the instructor said, if you wait until the last week, you’ll have a lot of catching up to do.

If you complete the class, which I assume means attending each session and doing the homework, you get a coupon book of perks and who knows what else. Brian reminded me that I’m not there for discounts nor is this for class credit. I’m trying to lower the unrealistically high expectations I have of myself, but going more than once a week to do the labs isn’t an expectation I’ve set for myself — it’s part of the class. There’s a part of me that wants to take this casually, but there’s also that competitive part of me that wants to complete everything — not even exceed the expectations, just meet them.

Taking this class was supposed to be a good thing, but right now I just feel inadequate. And I hate that the IBS is not something I can control.

Yesterday I wrote a post that included a picture that said, “Do one thing a day that scares you.” And although I agree with Heather that this probably isn’t possible for people who have really bad anxiety, it may not be practical for anybody, either. For example, the scary thing I did yesterday was finally getting my ass into the shower. No, the act didn’t terrify me, but just the thought of doing it — or not doing it, for that matter — increased my anxiety. So, that “scary thing” is different for everyone on different days and should be something realistic.

Brian and I made plans to go to my “new” gym to try a Group Kick class at 12:30pm. After thinking it through this morning, I realized that it probably wasn’t realistic and there’s no way I could make it an entire hour kicking and boxing and whatever else they do. So I suggested we take the Group Step class at 9:30am instead. How hard could that be? You just step up and down on this step thing. Besides, I’d already used the bathroom so any anxiety about having frantic scary urges because of the IBS was out of the way. Neither of us has taken any aerobics classes before and Brian never would other than for moral support.

I packed my gym bag so I could shower there to make sure I was totally OK with the facilities and besides, I’d be less likely to shower at home later no matter how stinky I was. By the time we got into the car, I didn’t think we’d make it in time. Besides, Brian didn’t have a free pass — he’d have to sign up for a guest pass and who knew how long that would take? I wanted to make sure we had a spot in the way back of the room.

There was no parking. I changed my mind and told Brian to head home, even though that wasn’t what I wanted to do. So we drove around until we found street parking. We were late. One of the employees walked me up to where the class was taking place and I could clearly see through the plate glass into the studio that the class was well on its way. Luckily, there was a chair just outside the door. I collapsed into it and burst into tears. Right there. At the gym. In front of the gym employee, and where I was convinced the people nearby and in the class could see me blubbering like an idiot about how there was no way I could do that class, I was too uncoordinated, and so on. I couldn’t even tell which one was the instructor! And Brian hadn’t even come up from the men’s locker room yet.

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I’ve never written about this but I have food issues. I use food as a reward system for myself when I’m making steps towards my recovery. I use other things, too, like shopping, but food is the big one. I tend to choose foods that are bad for me like ice cream, which exacerbates my IBS. But then I can’t stop. I keep eating more and more ice cream (most recently a Good Humor King Cone) each day, sometimes twice a day, knowing the effects it’ll have on me.

Other times I use food (again, something bad for me that exacerbates the IBS) to make myself feel better. Oh, I’m depressed because [insert reason here, i.e., I have bipolar; I have IBS; I’m on disability; I’m PMSing; just because]. I should get to have half a pint of Edy’s Nestlé Drumstick Sundae Cone ice cream because that’ll make me feel better, never mind the consequences. Hmm…I still feel depressed. I’ll just eat the rest of that pint…. Now I feel depressed because I ate ice cream when I know very well that tomorrow I’m going to end up with the runs. But it tastes go good! So I’ll have some more. I know Brian stashed an extra pint in the freezer somewhere.

And yet other times, I use food to reward myself for having not eaten it! Well, I haven’t had ice cream in a whole week, so I should get to have some. I’ll just have a quarter of a pint. But that usually ends up being the whole pint. It’s like this excerpt from Carrie Fisher’s Postcards from the Edge:

That’s it, I’ve quit. This time I’ve really quit. I’m not doing cocaine anymore. If someone came up and offered me cocaine I wouldn’t do it….

My first party without drugs. Interesting…. I wonder if anyone here even has any cocaine. That guy Steve looks like he might, he usually has some. I loathe that guy, but he always has great cocaine….

No, I promised myself I would not do any cocaine, because that last time was such a nightmare and…But it was fun in the beginning….

But this is the new me. I’m totally on a health kick. I have not taken cocaine in four days. I don’t even like it anymore. I never really did like it, I just did it ’cause it was around. And I don’t think I was really heavy into it, not like Steve over there….

“Hi, Steve, how ya doin’? Yeah, yeah. I’m fine…. You seem very up. No, I’m…I’m not doing any right now. I’ve quit…. No, I’m serious…. I’m absolutely committed to this.

“No, I don’t think I had a problem. It’s just that my nose started…I don’t know. I’ll probably end up still doing a little bit every so often, you know. Not right now. Maybe…well, like, maybe…. All right, maybe like a hit, but that’s [...] it, though.”

And of course the guy ends up in rehab after ODing on coke and a bunch of other drugs. He even has a secret stash at home, like I do with my ice cream, candy bars, etc. Ice cream is not even in the same ball park as cocaine, but once upon a time, for me, it was alcohol and cocaine and other drugs instead of ice cream. Once upon a time it was hangovers not the runs. The problem with ice cream is that not only is it legal, it’s food. For me, it almost doesn’t matter what it is. It’s the patterns of thinking that I need to change. *sigh* This is going to be a long road.

See more progress on: lose 25 lbs.