Still Anxious

The weekend is finally over. I no longer have to socialize, but the anxiety is lingering for some reason. I was okay most of the day, but now I feel on edge, and I don't know why. Nothing has changed since this morning, but the worried tension keeps building like something is going to happen. I hate that feeling. Every night is mostly the same--the closer I get to bed time, the more anxious I feel for some reason.

And I'm almost out of anxiety pills. My doctor never renewed my prescription she gave me when I first started seeing her because I was feeling better. I hadn't been taking them for a couple weeks at that point. But in the last month, the anxiety has come back with force. I took the last of what I had from her a while ago, and now I'm down to the last few pills that expired in 2014.

I know I should email my doctor about the spiraling depression and anxiety, but there's always that voice in the back of my head telling me not to be so annoying and just tough it out until my appointment on October 14. It's so stupid. And every time this happens, I get lectured about not suffering and contacting the doctor when I need help, but I can't do it. I can't be a bother. I've been trained too well to keep my complaints to myself and just suffer silently so I'm not a bother to everyone around me. Ugh.

See how stupid the whole thing is... I can easily reason the situation and see I'm being stupid, but then, I can't get over the anxiety to do anything about it. This depression has been going on for weeks now which is making the anxiety worse (I'm assuming) so I'm definitely going to have to ask for something more. We talked about increasing my dosage, but since I was doing well on the lowest dose of my med (Vraylar), it didn't seem like a good idea. I seem to work my way through the dosages allowed quicky and then have to try something else. I hate switching meds. It's such a pain.

This med was working pretty well with minimal side effects (I tried another like it and had horrible side effects that outweighed the good effect it was having), but after two months, it seems to not be working as well which worries me. It's a newer med so there isn't as much research, and I think there's only two dosing options? I can't remember. It's expensive, too, because it's new.

I'm also thinking about finally talking to a therapist again. I hate therapy. But at this point, I'm so frustrated with my life--nothing ever seems to change no matter what I do--that I need someone to talk to. I don't have friends. Literally. The only people I see or talk to are my husband and kids. Allbeit, three of my children are adults now, but I can't really talk to them about stuff. I don't talk to anyone about anything. This illness journal is the closest I get to talking about my life to people.

I used to overshare on Livejournal back in the day. I had a lot of friends there and felt supported. Or sometimes, I 'd post on Facebook when things were bad, but I got called out too many times about airing my business that should be private. So I stopped. Everything, everywhere. I don't talk about myself to anyone. I have no friends to confide in. I never talk about my worries or dreams (as if I have any) or problems. I keep everything to myself. I don't even talk about that stuff with my husband because he doesn't care and doesn't want to hear about it (not to mention he's the source of about a quarter of my anxiety and stress).

See, even this... My fingers are itching to erase all of that because it's too much info to share. No one needs to know any of that. I'm not allowed to talk about myself because I overshare. Or because no one even wants to hear about it. I see it on my kids' faces any time I start talking about my interests. Their eyes just glaze over, and they can't wait to get away from me so they don't have to hear about it. My husband just ignores me like I'm not even talking so... Of course, I'm expected to listen to them with interest whenever they talk about anything which I do. Or try to. But the other way around... Nope.

Which is also ultimately why therapy failed for me the times I tried it, I think. I don't know how to talk about myself. My instinct is to say everything is fine no matter how I'm feeling. To hide, hide, hide my true feelings.

The last therapist I had told me I needed to speak up when I said I didn't feel like I was being heard in my family. I mean metaphorically and physically heard. So many times I'll be talking then the person I'm talking to will turn away and just start having a conversation with someone else like I'm not there. This is my family doing this. He told me I needed to physically speak up to be heard. So I tried it. All it did was piss off my family. If I interrupted their conversations to assert that I was not done speaking, they'd get mad and ignore me after that. So I just stopped telling the therapist stuff because their solutions didn't work for me--they only made things worse.

But maybe this time, since I'm older and desperate, I'll learn how to deal with my own emotions better. Because I'm not doing well dealing with this spiraling depression and anxiety.

Well, off to take one of the last handful off anxiety meds. Not sure they'll last until my appointment of if I'll even remember to ask about getting more because I always forget. I suppose if my anxiety is still really bad at that point, I'll remember to bring it up. Two more weeks until my appointment to figure it out.