Hello, everyone.
This is my first post here. I am living through what is quite possibly the roughest patch of my life.
I am a 30 y/o female who has had some experience with generalized anxiety (or pending doom). I was diagnosed with it several years ago and took Effexor for a couple of years. The Effexor made me feel a little sluggish so I decided to stop taking it.
6 months after I stopped taking my medicine, my stepfather killed himself. My mother had recently left him (something I practically pleaded with her not to do) and after the divorce was finalized, he was left in pieces.
(**My stepfather is one of seven children. He was the fourth to take his own life).
At the time of his death, I was living in Japan. My husband and I had to wait 30 hours before we could even get on a flight from Tokyo to DC. After the funeral week, we had to go back to Japan. From there, I went to Poland for a scholar program and a friend's wedding. I was there for a month. Once I returned home to Japan, I felt sort of "out-of-it". Like I wasn't myself. I was acting a bit more foolish, doing irresponsible things, drinking a lot, even entertaining the idea that our best friend had feelings for me. I even went so far as telling this friend that I had feelings for him, too. As you can imagine, this severely hurt my marriage. How could it not? (I told my husband of the incident within a week of it happening). I kept thinking to myself, "this is not me. What am I doing?! How could I do something like this?".
The next month (Jan. 2014), we moved back to the U.S., which was something that I did not want to do. My husband's job took us to a small, boring town in Oklahoma. A few weeks later, my mother attempted suicide. She sent a message to a friend who then called 911 about a possible suicide and the ambulance found her and made her throw up whatever pills she may have taken. To this day, I'm not sure whether my mother ever had the intention of killing herself or if she did it just for attention/as a cry for help.
After our move and my mother's incident, I was having mood swings periodically. Every two weeks or so, I was having a break down. A lot of times, it was hard for me to get out of bed. I would lay there and cry. I just didn't feel like life was worth it anymore. Not only because of the suicide circumstances, but because I didn't have a job and some people in my life were berating me for that -- not understanding that I lived in such a small town and that I would be "stuck" here for the next 18 months or so. I was sad, extremely lonely and I had no friends or a job to keep myself preoccupied. I held onto my new puppy (which my husband bought me for Christmas in 2013) for comfort. In many ways, I felt like she was saving my life.
I saw a doctor and told him of my mood problems. He said I sounded bipolar and that I should take some medication. I refused the medication because my stepfather was never depressed UNTIL he started meds (doctor gave him meds because my stepfather went in asking about depression after his 3rd sibling killed herself -- even though he wasn't depressed!). My doctor also gave me a referral to a psychiatrist. I never used it because I didn't want to have a "problem" and the idea of seeing a psychiatrist freaked me out.
A couple months later, I went back in. Nothing.
A couple months more, I went back in and they told me I probably had ADHD. But I refused medication.
Fast forward to this past January. I have been having anxiety attacks. Horrible anxiety. I have been dealing with a lot of stress at work and with grad school, but nothing out of the ordinary. It just seems like I can't handle the stress of it all -- something a normal person would have no problem with.
Then, being a suspenseful movie lover, I rented "Gone Girl" and my husband and I watched it one night. If you haven't seen it, it is extremely psychotic, more so than the previews lead on. After the movie, I was left sickened. Could I be like that woman? I have emotional problems right now, which are interfering with my marriage, what if I lose my husband because of my emotional nonsense? Would I become that psychotic?! The idea of it TERRIFIED ME. Since then, I have had HORRIBLE anxiety/panic attacks that have led to this:
Right now, I am so lost and confused about what is going on in my mind right now. I keep dwelling on my stepfather's suicide and my mother's attempt. I keep thinking about all the past mental issues my mother has had and has subjected me to since I was a small child. I feel that I have a mental issue and that I am predisposed of becoming suicidal. I don't want to kill myself. I don't want to die. But why then did I have a thought one day (while eating lunch at home alone), "just kill yourself now. No one else is home. And you're going to do it one day anyway". The thought petrified me. I began panicking. I called my Dad who immediately took off from work, booked the next flight to Oklahoma and stayed the weekend with my husband and I. These thoughts are still creeping in my head and it's so difficult to get them to go away. I have a good life. I have a truly wonderful and loving husband (who has put up with so much from me), the best dog a girl could ask for, a good job now, a future that looks bright, a Dad who would give me the moon and stars if I asked for them... Why do I feel so lost and hopeless? Why is this anxiety and this fear of myself committing suicide eating at me so much? My mind keeps telling me that my emotional problems now will never end and that nothing will help to treat them and I'll eventually get to the point where I can't take them anymore.
I started seeing a counselor a few weeks ago and my husband and I are collectively seeing another one. Both of the counselors have mentioned "PTSD" possibly from childhood and almost certainly from my stepfather's suicide/mother's attempt. I have an appointment with a psychiatrist this Tuesday.
I know I have anxiety and I guess I believe that I could have PTSD. I'm scared of treatment. Medicine freaks me out. I'm scared that my psychiatrist will improperly diagnose me. I'm scared that nothing will ever make me feel like myself again. I want to be normal. I want to live a healthy, happy, full-functioning life. I want to give my husband a child someday. Am I ever going to get better?
This is my first post here. I am living through what is quite possibly the roughest patch of my life.
I am a 30 y/o female who has had some experience with generalized anxiety (or pending doom). I was diagnosed with it several years ago and took Effexor for a couple of years. The Effexor made me feel a little sluggish so I decided to stop taking it.
6 months after I stopped taking my medicine, my stepfather killed himself. My mother had recently left him (something I practically pleaded with her not to do) and after the divorce was finalized, he was left in pieces.
(**My stepfather is one of seven children. He was the fourth to take his own life).
At the time of his death, I was living in Japan. My husband and I had to wait 30 hours before we could even get on a flight from Tokyo to DC. After the funeral week, we had to go back to Japan. From there, I went to Poland for a scholar program and a friend's wedding. I was there for a month. Once I returned home to Japan, I felt sort of "out-of-it". Like I wasn't myself. I was acting a bit more foolish, doing irresponsible things, drinking a lot, even entertaining the idea that our best friend had feelings for me. I even went so far as telling this friend that I had feelings for him, too. As you can imagine, this severely hurt my marriage. How could it not? (I told my husband of the incident within a week of it happening). I kept thinking to myself, "this is not me. What am I doing?! How could I do something like this?".
The next month (Jan. 2014), we moved back to the U.S., which was something that I did not want to do. My husband's job took us to a small, boring town in Oklahoma. A few weeks later, my mother attempted suicide. She sent a message to a friend who then called 911 about a possible suicide and the ambulance found her and made her throw up whatever pills she may have taken. To this day, I'm not sure whether my mother ever had the intention of killing herself or if she did it just for attention/as a cry for help.
After our move and my mother's incident, I was having mood swings periodically. Every two weeks or so, I was having a break down. A lot of times, it was hard for me to get out of bed. I would lay there and cry. I just didn't feel like life was worth it anymore. Not only because of the suicide circumstances, but because I didn't have a job and some people in my life were berating me for that -- not understanding that I lived in such a small town and that I would be "stuck" here for the next 18 months or so. I was sad, extremely lonely and I had no friends or a job to keep myself preoccupied. I held onto my new puppy (which my husband bought me for Christmas in 2013) for comfort. In many ways, I felt like she was saving my life.
I saw a doctor and told him of my mood problems. He said I sounded bipolar and that I should take some medication. I refused the medication because my stepfather was never depressed UNTIL he started meds (doctor gave him meds because my stepfather went in asking about depression after his 3rd sibling killed herself -- even though he wasn't depressed!). My doctor also gave me a referral to a psychiatrist. I never used it because I didn't want to have a "problem" and the idea of seeing a psychiatrist freaked me out.
A couple months later, I went back in. Nothing.
A couple months more, I went back in and they told me I probably had ADHD. But I refused medication.
Fast forward to this past January. I have been having anxiety attacks. Horrible anxiety. I have been dealing with a lot of stress at work and with grad school, but nothing out of the ordinary. It just seems like I can't handle the stress of it all -- something a normal person would have no problem with.
Then, being a suspenseful movie lover, I rented "Gone Girl" and my husband and I watched it one night. If you haven't seen it, it is extremely psychotic, more so than the previews lead on. After the movie, I was left sickened. Could I be like that woman? I have emotional problems right now, which are interfering with my marriage, what if I lose my husband because of my emotional nonsense? Would I become that psychotic?! The idea of it TERRIFIED ME. Since then, I have had HORRIBLE anxiety/panic attacks that have led to this:
Right now, I am so lost and confused about what is going on in my mind right now. I keep dwelling on my stepfather's suicide and my mother's attempt. I keep thinking about all the past mental issues my mother has had and has subjected me to since I was a small child. I feel that I have a mental issue and that I am predisposed of becoming suicidal. I don't want to kill myself. I don't want to die. But why then did I have a thought one day (while eating lunch at home alone), "just kill yourself now. No one else is home. And you're going to do it one day anyway". The thought petrified me. I began panicking. I called my Dad who immediately took off from work, booked the next flight to Oklahoma and stayed the weekend with my husband and I. These thoughts are still creeping in my head and it's so difficult to get them to go away. I have a good life. I have a truly wonderful and loving husband (who has put up with so much from me), the best dog a girl could ask for, a good job now, a future that looks bright, a Dad who would give me the moon and stars if I asked for them... Why do I feel so lost and hopeless? Why is this anxiety and this fear of myself committing suicide eating at me so much? My mind keeps telling me that my emotional problems now will never end and that nothing will help to treat them and I'll eventually get to the point where I can't take them anymore.
I started seeing a counselor a few weeks ago and my husband and I are collectively seeing another one. Both of the counselors have mentioned "PTSD" possibly from childhood and almost certainly from my stepfather's suicide/mother's attempt. I have an appointment with a psychiatrist this Tuesday.
I know I have anxiety and I guess I believe that I could have PTSD. I'm scared of treatment. Medicine freaks me out. I'm scared that my psychiatrist will improperly diagnose me. I'm scared that nothing will ever make me feel like myself again. I want to be normal. I want to live a healthy, happy, full-functioning life. I want to give my husband a child someday. Am I ever going to get better?
