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The horror

To be honest, which, why the fuck not, I’m not doing well. I’m changing meds, I’m cutting back on my one vice left (pot) and I quit my other one vice left (Facebook).

I’m unemployed, and I’ve been unemployed for the greater part of the past couple years. I will get a job I’m not suited to, work it for a few months and have nonstop panic attacks. My boyfriend and I moved in together, I’m going on his employer’s health insurance and for the first time in years I’m not shitting myself wondering how I’m going to make rent AND pay for my super expensive health insurance that covers mental health issues and eczema treatments among many other health problems. So now instead of desperately alternating between escapism and freaking the fuck out about money and other problems, I am home, staring at my anger and hatred full in the face. It’s not pretty, I am quite alarmed. I guess its good I quieted down my life and brain enough to see what a major fucking problem I have, me, not the world. I was blaming the world for my own nonstop rage, how dare you enrage me and threaten me and seek to destruct my well being. Only, no one is doing that. Okay, maybe a couple people, but hardly anyone.

I have been on Effexor for over 10 years now, and I have always wanted to try going on something less harsh. If I forget Effexor for one day, and I am very forgetful, I have withdrawls, I get super freaked and crazy feeling. I hate being ‘addicted’ to my own anti-anxiety meds, especially when they don’t get me high. No doctor would take me off that med, despite me asking several over the years if we could try it, because I was hanging in there for 10 years. This year I started talking (for the first time ever) about how much I wished I was dead, or never born, and my new doc said we should go ahead and try taking me off Effexor, since clearly something wasn’t working. So I’ve taken a slowly-lesser dose for 2 months now, to go off of Effexor and onto Zoloft instead (you can’t quit Effexor without using another anti-anxiety med to supplement). Now I’m on 1/8 of the Effexor dose I was on 2 months ago, and its notoriously harsh to go off of. I know it’s to be expected I feel like shit during a meds change, but since I already had such a freaked out, fucked up year, I’m starting to feel like a permanent basket case.

I am supposed to be looking for jobs but I feel like a dead cat in the middle of the road. Today I pried myself out of the house, dressed up and put on lipstick and went to a job fair, which was a very depressing job fair indeed, and there were literally no jobs there I was qualified for or willing to do (I will not sell things to the public, I simply cannot, I wither in uncontrollable shame). Now I’m home procrastinating looking by writing this post. But I simply couldn’t stand to go another second without blurting my insides out online. I have been doing it with FB at least since I quit drinking, and keeping it all in is driving me nuts. I am driving me nuts. I hate having to live with myself.


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This entry was posted on January 30, 2014 by in Alcohol Recovery, Anxiety, Career, Discovering Tats, Health.
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