Death

Death.  The end of life.  Or a new beginning?

I’ve been obsessing over the topic once again, especially as summer passes into autumn and soon winter.  Also, the anniversary of my father’s death is getting nearer.  I’ve never been very good at grieving.

My gut feeling tells me that at death consciousness ends permanently.  Fortunately for me, my gut feelings have been wrong on several occassions, so I say the verdict is still out.

I sometimes think I don’t fear death as much as the act of dying.  Will it be painful?  Will it be sudden?  Most importantly, will it be soon?

As my therapist would tell me, focus on the present, or remember Eckhart Tolle’s teachings of “The Now.”  After all, that’s all we have.

If this post reads a bit funny, it’s because I’m writing it out completely through stream-of-consciousness.  I usually plan out my posts in advance, but I slept through most of Saturday with a headache, and I have an overwhelming desire to post something.  So why not “death?”

Personally, I like the idea of The Grim Reaper.  The personification of death seems to make it less frightening.  If he does exist, I just hope he has a good sense of humor.

Talk to me.  What are your thoughts on the subject?  Or do you prefer not to dwell on it?

I will be back tomorrow with something more coherent.

In the meantime, stay safe.

Whew! I did over a week’s worth of postings in one day.

I need a break.

If you are still reading this, why not check out my review of The B-52s’ “Funplex” CD?

Best wishes!
Shannon 🙂

Xanax: More Dangerous Than It Appears

I hadn’t plan to do another posting on Xanax, but I see a trend in the search engines for people searching out the medication. I feel that I need to explain my stance on drugs in general and on Xanax specifically.

Personally, I feel all drugs should be decriminalized. I do not see a Constitutional article to prevent us from putting foreign chemicals into our own bodies. For the sake of argument, if a woman can have an abortion because it’s her body, then a woman or a man should be able to place whatever substance into his or her own body as well.

The only caveat is that the person taking the drug must be held accountable for any and all actions taken while under the drug’s influence. No driving, operating heavy machinery, or watching after children should be allowed.

While I refuse to be a Liberal or a Conservative politically, I do have a liberal policy when it comes to drugs.

That said, there are still risks in taking any illegal or improperly taken prescription drugs. After all, people do die on them every day. Either out of apathy or carelessness, a high can become a fatality.

With that in mind, I want to talk a bit more about Xanax. They are seemingly innocently looking drugs: peach or blue ovals or white bars. And when taken as recommended as needed, they do have a therapeutic value to them.

However, in combination with other drugs, especially Methadone or heroin, they can be lethal. They can cause respiratory failure which leads to death.

Even when not mixed with opiates, a steady diet of Xanax (or its generic alprazolam) can lead to deadly withdrawals. Convulsions, seizures, and heart arrhythmia are not unheard of.

I’m not ignorant. I know Xanax is sold on the streets for recreational highs. And I doubt my post will put a stop to it. But be informed, not just about Xanax, but any chemical you decide to ingest. Learn more at Erowid.org before you decide to take a drug, illegal or prescribed.

Please, don’t become another statistic.

Older Woman / Younger Man Relationships: Questions and Answers

Wow! When I wrote the article about May-December relationships between a younger man and an older woman, I didn’t expect to get nearly the feedback I got, either through e-mail or from search engine results. The only other topics that did better were Xanax and cult life. I hope there is no connection amongst these subjects!

I am not a relationship expert, nor do I have all the answers to many of the questions that were poised towards me. But I might be able to help sort out a few more facts about such intergenerational relationships.

Let’s begin:

Q. What is an appropriate age difference between a man and a woman?

A. That answer completely depends on the individuals involved. For some people, ten years is far too much. Other couples struggle with only a three year age difference. I personally have had significant age differences and did just fine. (Other non-age related factors ended my partnerships.) So there is no right or wrong answer to fit everyone – You have to determine what is a comfortable zone for you.

Q. Will he leave me for a younger woman?

A. Once again, it depends on the personality of the man. Let’s face it: typical, “normal” relationships haven’t done so well lately. With a divorce rate close to 50%, there are no guarantees for success. I do believe you, the woman, should bring up the subject if it concerns you. There is no way to read minds, I’m afraid, and talking it out is the best one can do.

Q. He is too immature. Why won’t he grow up?

A. Men, in general, have been accused of being too immature compared to women, so this argument may have a larger basis to it. But in the context of older women / younger men relationships, there is a good possibility that the man is indeed too immature for a relationship with an older woman. Remember, you cannot change anyone – You can only change the way in how you deal with him. Sadly, in some cases, ending the pairing might be the best solution. If nothing else, maybe it will give him time to grow up some.

Q. Where can I find hot, experienced women?

A. On street corners, in cheap bars, or on pornographic sound stages.

No self-respecting woman would fall for such a shallow attempt at sex by a man of any age.

At least, it hasn’t worked for me…

Seriously, first try having a serious friendship, then a relationship with a woman before sex enters the picture. Yes, there are women out there who will have sex on the first date, but you have to ask yourself: If she’s is so promiscuous with you, who else has she been with? Women, the same goes with you regarding men. Sex should never be the first step in any relationship. And with AIDS other STDs still prevalent, it’s really a risky chance to take, even with condoms.

Not exactly a question, but something worth considering… I feel it is safe to say most older women prefer older men for a number of reasons: security, commonality, maturity, more physically appealing (Surprise, younger men – Women have a tendency to prefer an older man’s appearance), just to name a few.

But with only one exception, I have always been the first younger man an older woman has been with. The only answer I can give is that I’ve grown up around older women and feel more comfortable with them. And they feel more comfortable with in turn.

Now, I’m not saying I’ve been with dozens upon dozens of women – I haven’t, and I prefer it that way. But the very few I have dated romantically chose me probably did so because I didn’t pressure her into going to bed with me. Time, patience, and a willingness not to care about sexual matters seemed to have been factors for a romance to bloom.

A rather long answer to the above question, but hopefully an insightful one. Don’t rush things!

Q. Can an older woman / younger man relationship last?

A. I guess it depends on how long “lasting” means. The longest relationship I had was over 14 years, and it only ended when her children (which were older than me) started to suspect. Circumstances ended it, not because we wanted to. But maybe my example is the exception to the rule – I don’t know.

Q. How about older men and young women?

Sorry, that is out of my field. Maybe someone else can take up the slack on that one.

I hope this article gives further information on intergenerational relationships. If you have any questions that haven’t been answered here, just drop me a line and I will try my best to answer it.

Regardless of your relationship status, take care and best wishes!
Shannon

Suriving Mental Illness – Table of Contents

This series of post are about my personal battle with bipolar disorder and abuse.  I am hoping that sharing this information with others could possibly help those who feel alone.

Since I posted an overwhelming amount of posts on the subject of mental illness, I thought a table of contents would be useful:

Surviving Mental Illness

1. Introduction
2. Family History and Early Childhood
3. Late Childhood
4. Middle School
5. High School
6. College
7. 1993: The Crescendo
8. 1993: The Crash
9. 1993: Madness
10. Bad Medicine
11. Pushed to the Edge
12. Winning the War?
13. Today

Surviving Mental Illness – Today

Today

I’ve written this series of postings about my mental health well over a year ago. At the time, I felt like Depakote was the answer to my prayers. Sadly, it wasn’t. Neither was Lithium.

I’m taking Lexapro, Abilify, and a cocktail of medications to help combat anxiety.  They help, but I still have a long way to go.

I have tried to find employment with no success. My natural state of mind is a depressive one, and I frequently lack energy to do the things I enjoy, much less activities and chores that must be done.  Writing seems to be my only outlet and seems therapeutic.

Out of desperation, I am looking into SSI (disability) to see if I qualify for assistance. I haven’t made any money on the soundtrack I’ve written, and so far my freelance writing has been a washout.

But… I will still manage to survive.

Postscript

As much as I have written, there was still much left out. One person I need to thank is my former ladyfriend, who stood by me and helped me through some terrible periods. For the sake of her privacy – as well as mine – I cannot discuss more about her. But she is an angel nonetheless.

Also I thank my family who has had their share of personal struggles. They never gave up on me either.

And finally, I thank everyone who took the time to read through my struggles with mental illness. I do appreciate your time.

If you have any questions or comments, always feel free to contact me.  I will do my best to answer them.

Surviving Mental Illness – Winning the War?

Winning the War?

Cutting Myself

I don’t really remember how it began, but I took a razor and started slashing at my wrists. My intention wasn’t suicide, but if I had hit an artery, I wouldn’t have minded. My therapist referred to this action as a “dance with death.” He said it was a first step towards suicide.

There are two components that I have noticed when self-cutting. For one, there is a rush of endorphins that surge after a physical painful experience. And two, my mental depression now has a physical manifestation. I could put on a fake smile and use a cheerful sounding voice, but the cuts on my wrists tell the true story.

One night I cut myself so badly I had to go to the ER for a major laceration of the thumb. The blade had slipped and went right through the thumbnail. I hid my other cuts from the emergency personnel, but I’m sure they knew what I was up to. But I put on a fake smile and a cheerful sounding voice, and they didn’t ask any more questions. Perhaps they really didn’t want to know? Who can say?

Medicinal Change

After this, I immediately let my psychiatrist and therapist know what had happened. They immediately put me back on Lexapro and then a mood stabilizer called Ambilify. Within days after being taken off of Cymbalta, the urge to harm myself quickly disappeared, and I haven’t intentionally hurt myself since.

By now, people at work knew I was still an emotional wreck. My boss wanted me to stay, but Human Resources were looking for a way to get me out of there. They managed to fire another woman who also had suicidal tendencies – they used her attendance as an excuse.

And my attendance was shoddy too. With the Ambilify and Lexapro, I knew I was moving in the right direction, but something was still missing.

By the fall of 2006, my psychiatrist left and a new one took her place. He studied my records carefully and asked if I ever tried Depakote – a medication designed for bipolar disorder. I hadn’t, so he put me on it.

Could This Be the Answer?

I am still too amateur of a writer to come close to describing the difference it made me feel. I felt like I finally have woken up from a very long, dismal, and horribly bleak nightmare. My thoughts were neither sluggish nor rapid. The thought of suicide now seemed foreign to me.

Still, I lost my job due to absenteeism. But instead of planning my death, I began looking for a new one. I felt a sense of hope but one that is realistic. I could now organize my thoughts.

I felt “normal.”

But only for a while. The symptoms crept back into my life, and the emotional downward spiral came once again.

I felt defeated once again.

Next Entry: Today

Surviving Mental Illness – Pushed to the Edge

Pushed to the Edge

With the exception of the terrorist attacks of 9/11/01, the years of 2000 and 2001 were basically status quo concerning my mental health. Even though father was ill, no one could tell it. He still looked 20 years younger than his age and seemed to be in excellent form.

Work became more stressful due several circumstances not worth mentioning. But I held on as best as I could.

In 2002, a great friend and fellow co-worker lost his father and his wife within two months of each other. I felt tremendous sympathy for him, and later empathy when I would lose my own father in 2005.

Due to a lack of Xanax and major upheavals at work, I began drinking in 2003. I was never an alcoholic. I didn’t drink every day, didn’t hide the fact that I was drinking. But alcohol is like a roll of the dice for me: it can really cheer me up or it can make me even more depressed. It was always a gamble. But it helped me to ration my Xanax. (Do NOT try this yourself!)

Change of Routine

In 2004, my sister came to live with us after her divorce. Due to several personal issues on her part, I will not go into details about this period of time, for the sake of her privacy. By October, she moved out.

Throughout 2004, we could all see father’s health declining. He went from looking 20 years younger than his age to looking like an elderly man within a few short months.

Making a Fool of Myself

My drinking and Xanax intake was also increasing, and I had a terribly embarrassing episode come from it. The college nurse knew I was having problems and would talk with me often.

One night, I came close to overdosing on Xanax and vodka and emailed her to let her know that if I should die tonight she was not responsible, and I thanked her for all of her help. The next day, I completely forgot about the email – Xanax-induced amnesia – until she found me. I was sent immediately to a therapist and psychiatrist.

Finding Good Doctors

After having bad experiences with a few psychiatrists and therapists in the 1990s and early 2000s, I thought I would never go back to another one. Fortunately, both of these people were (still are) excellent professionals. From 1993 until late 2004, I never had doctors that were as caring and as intelligent as these two people.

By the middle of December, I really cleaned up my act. I quit drinking and decreased my Xanax intake significantly. But the real reason for this was I knew I had to stay functional in case my father needed immediate help.

Death in the Family

My father died on January 4th, 2005 – Three days after my birthday.

Somehow, in some way, I felt more stable than I had in years. My therapist said it was because I had an actual, external reason to feel depressed, instead of the irrational depression I normally had.

I stayed strong for my mother, brother, and sister. I was the perfect model of mental health. No alcohol, very little Xanax. The psychiatrist put me on Lexapro, which I’m still taking to this day. So far, it has been one of the best medications for me. But it still wasn’t perfect.

Unable to Cope

By the middle of 2005, I collapsed emotionally. The stability was gone. I used the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA) to take a month off from work. The psychiatrist was concerned that the Lexapro wasn’t working well enough, so she put me on Cymbalta. A major mistake!!

I never understood before why some people would cut themselves (self-mutilation). Now I did.

Next Entry: Winning the War?

Surviving Mental Illness – Bad Medicine

Bad Medicine

For the sake of brevity, I am only going to highlight certain aspects of my life from 1993 to 1999. Also, I’ve been on so many medications, I don’t remember them all or the complete order in which I tried them.

I went to both my family doctor and a state clinic for the mentally ill. Their initial diagnosis was that I suffered from severe clinical depression with an anxiety component, plus had signs of obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD).

Everyone’s Body Chemistry Is Different

Before I start to mention the various medications I’ve tried, I need to stress one important fact. Everyone’s body chemistry is different. What worked for someone else may not work for me and vice versa. With some of these medications, I had severe bad reactions. But I do not want to scare anyone away from a particular medication, because it might be the right choice for him/her.

Beginning the Medication Game

The first medication they put me on was Paxil. It completely drugged me out. I gained 30 pounds within a matter of a few weeks, weight I’m still fighting with today. My daily schedule while taking it was to wake up around 4pm, eat a meal while watching The Golden Girls, and go back to bed. I couldn’t function to go back to college or to get a job. I was a zombie.

The latter part of 1993 and most of 1994 are completely lost to me. I slept through the days, each day not being any different than the day before.

So the doctors tried me on Prozac. I had more energy but still was struggling with mood issues. I was able to function enough to join another music band in the latter part of the year of 1994.

At some point I tried Zoloft. I couldn’t tell the difference from Prozac. So they put me on Effexor. It only increased my suicidal thoughts. Then I was put on yet another antidepressant (can’t remember which one now) and it helped more than the others.

By the middle of 1995, I was able to get a job at a computer Help Desk. My attendance was shoddy at times when I had severe episodes of depression.

A doctor put me on Remeron, but after three days of continual sleeping I had to quit it. So I was put back on one of the previous medications.

Bad Turn of Events

I felt like I just existed through much of 1996. I really have few memories of that year, and the few I do have are bad ones. An aunt died in an accident and my brother almost died in an apartment fire.

My suicidal thoughts increased by early-to-middle 1997. I quit/was fired from my job at the Help Desk (this will be its own story someday). Later that summer, I joined up with a benign cult just to have some sort of a social life and to find a distraction from my negative feelings.

Pills, Pills, Pills

By early fall of 1997, I got another job at the place I quit/was fired from. I think I was on Wellbutrin and Luvox by then. I had taken Anafranil at some point – it didn’t help.

Around 1999, I began taken Xanax for my anxiety and panic attacks, which I became physically addicted to (see Little Blue Football posts).

After all these medications, plus Geodon, Risperdal, Buspar, and others that I cannot recall, I still suffered from a severe bought of depression followed by racing thoughts of suicide (known as aggravated depression, a trait common to bipolar disorder).

Some things helped a little but nothing was working very well. I was barely functional at best. When my father was diagnosed with cancer and diabetes in August 1999, things only got worse.

Next Entry: Pushed to the Edge

Surviving Mental Illness – 1993: Madness

1993: Madness

Some Basic Facts

Some facts about mental illnesses in general:

Usually, mental illness will manifest itself in early adulthood (early 20s). There are several theories as to why that is. One belief is that the brain finishes growing during that age range and something doesn’t “connect” properly.

There may or may not be any early warning signs when mental illness strikes. I had warning signs throughout my life but didn’t recognize them.

Also, it isn’t uncommon for the first few weeks of the initial episode of mental illness, regardless of what it is, to mimic the symptoms of schizophrenia. This is probably due to the panic of “losing one’s mind.” After two weeks or so, the illness begins to take shape and diagnosis becomes easier.

That said, it is still easy for a professional to misdiagnose a disorder, since the symptoms of the different illnesses often overlap each other. There is no blood test to determine which mental illness a person has.

I had fit all this criteria. I was 22 years old, and when the illness finally manifested itself, I was sure I was schizophrenic. I’ll explain…

Paranoid Psychosis

When the blizzard came, my family and I were basically trapped within our house. In one way, it was comforting knowing I didn’t have to go back to college for a while. But then I also felt uncomfortable being stuck within the house with my mother and father. By now, they knew something was terribly wrong with me.

My emotions were cycling rapidly in a perfect sequence. I would start crying uncontrollably for no apparent reason, I would then feel “normal” and confused to what was happening, then I would feel a sense of total ecstasy that everything would be great again and that I was in control. Then I went back to feeling normal and confused, and finally I would break down in tears again. My moods were swinging like a perfectly balanced pendulum.

I tried shoveling all the snow in the driveway, hoping that this condition would only be a passing thing. But then I was struck with paranoia and afraid to go back into the house. I “knew” my family didn’t want me anymore. I had to wait for this feeling to pass before I got back out of the cold.

Mother made me a bowl of soup. First I cried because of the loving gesture; then I thought it might have been poisoned.

I would try to block my bedroom door at night, so no one would come in and hurt me while I tried to sleep. But then at other times, I began thinking that I would help my family out if I would just end my life. All of this seemed sensible at the time.

Crashing Down

For approximately two weeks I had these weird delusions and mood swings. Finally, these thoughts settled down, and the only feeling left was severe depression. My moods no longer would swing. I just stayed depressed.

I dropped several of my courses except for three (which later became “F’s”). I would only see a handful of my closest friends but that was it. I was beginning to withdraw from the world.

But unlike many people, I admitted that I was ill, and I did try to seek help. Sadly, despite all of its advances, mental health care is still in the Dark Ages.

Next Entry: Bad Medicine