Post by donsimon on Dec 16, 2015 11:41:56 GMT
**Warning: likely to be euphemistically frank about my habits**
After lots of backwards and forwards and doubts and delays and frustrations, I took my first Concerta XL 18mg on Sunday.
I'm going to be on this does for at last two weeks and will go back to the psych next Thursday for the next stage.
I don't know. I don't know what's going on or what to expect. My diagnosis has come fairly swiftly from my own research having suffered on and off with anxiety and depression, episodically, for over 12 years. This year was awful, but I refused antidepressants again as I just felt I was getting nowhere. CBT wasn't helping. But the symptoms lists and accounts of ADHD in high achievers just seemed to chime. I showed it to my GP, we discussed it and she made a referral, but the 18 month waiting list seemed ridiculous. I paid, perhaps impulsively, to go private.
Sunday
Sunday was a great day. I took Concerta at 9am. At 10, I felt more alert that I had felt for weeks - my days are usually various shades of sluggish - and I felt a sense of contentment and sharpness - not a high, but the sense that I was in control of my thoughts and could make decisions if I had to. My husband was planning to visit his parents. My usual way of operating Sundays when he's not around is to think about all the things I could and should be doing but then go back to bed and waste hours and hours pointlessly on social media or 'naughty' sites and spend the evening in self-recrimination. This time I resolved to go out to get lunch and do uni work and he was pleased when we left the house together.
This didn't go entirely to plan. Husband mentioned that we needed to get Christmas Cards. I walked up and down my local high street and got frustrated at how crap they all are, so I got on a bus into the City Centre about 1pm and immediately regretted it. Walking around the City I felt claustrophobic - I noticed butterflies and anxiety, but whilst these are normally linked to intrusive thoughts, they seemed to be detached. I didn't freak out, or go into my bad mood spiral though. I found my 'out' by arranging to go carol-singing with a few members of the choir I am a poorly-attending member of. This was great and put me in a lovely mood for the evening.
I got no uni work done. But I explained to my husband that I didn't feel like I had missed a priority or that I couldn't have done it, other things just got in the way. We watched Star Wars and I had a witty exchange with my best friend (who lives in Yorkshire) via messenger.
About 7pm, I felt rather restless. Focus was slipping and I couldn't decide what I wanted to do (a very familiar feeling). I paced, wasted time on social media, absented myself to go upstairs for some 'relief' (a popular anxiety-relief). Came down again, faffed around, felt anxious - "What if this isn't working?" "What if I haven't got the right diagnosis?" (this will recur) "What if he takes the medication away and I'm left with no answers?".
My husband made copious cups of tea and we attempted to watch another programme on TV, but I couldn't sit still. At about 9pm I went to the kitchen and procrastinated with my uni books in front of me. At about 10:15pm I attempted to write something - actually, this very diary but in a lot more "thought detail" - but tailed off and decided to go to bed.
I then had one of the most awful night's sleep I'd had in months. Right in time for work on...
Monday
Well, getting up was a struggle. But I managed to shamble into the shower, had breakfast and took Concerta at 7:50am. By the time I dropped my husband off at work at 8:20am I was raring to go. Again, felt calm, controlled.
By about 11am I was yawning, but the lack of sleep didn't seem to be affecting me a great deal. I felt tired but not unalert. It was a day of what I'd probably call "almost focus". I bunked off what I should be doing to concentrate on creating a Star Wars Quiz. I did this all afternoon.
Again, throughout, I had a few butterflies and 'micro-anxieties' but these passed. Generally my mood was much better than it has been of late.
Until I was going home, about 5:15pm, when my dickhead of a father decided to ring me and ask for money, dredging up a whole sludgy mess of dormant family issues. Suddenly seized with fear of financial future and the fact that, through mechanisms that are probably best left out of this, I have allowed myself to become a pawn in a 30 year power-struggle between my estranged parents, and nothing that I can possibly do will end well. Everyone around me firmly on one side or another, feel like I'm stuck in the middle. Mood spiral, tears, anxious shutdown.
I managed to recover in the evening to watch The Empire Strikes Back with my husband and make some quips on Social Media. After the film finished, I again went to the kitchen with uni books, but just procrastinated, paced, meandering in and out of focus as husband watched TV and I refreshed my phone.
Monday night's sleep was ok. I woke up a few times and had a couple of nightmares, but managed a solid few uninterrupted hours.
Tuesday
Up first for a change, and took Concerta at 7:50am. Pattern the same, though felt chatty and awake when driving husband in. We had a few jokes about things on the radio and I dropped him off.
Pattern of the day changed around 10am, when I started recalling the conversation with my father the day before and revisited all of the horrible feelings. Felt sick and anxious, and this cyclical feeling became the pattern of the day, in between bouts of feeling ok. Focus was likewise cyclical, and never very high, but still, I did feel more in control at these points than I have done for as long as I can remember.
Cycles of anxiety peaked around 5pm, when I picked my husband up and burst into tears about how awful everything was. When we got home I told him that I was fed up of trying to make everyone happy at the expense of my own - and moreover, his and told him that he ought to think of himself and that if I was making him miserable then he should leave me. Again, though, this seemed to wear off quickly: I didn't mood spiral, but did have another cycle about 8pm where I began to question my diagnosis again - "What if the doctor is wrong and this medication makes it worse?" "What about if this is more serious and I have bipolar disorder/Borderline Personality Disorder?" - Anxious symptom checking followed. Restlessness ensued, but then, again, it settled by the time I went to bed.
Tuesday night I slept straight through for the first time in at least three weeks.
After lots of backwards and forwards and doubts and delays and frustrations, I took my first Concerta XL 18mg on Sunday.
I'm going to be on this does for at last two weeks and will go back to the psych next Thursday for the next stage.
I don't know. I don't know what's going on or what to expect. My diagnosis has come fairly swiftly from my own research having suffered on and off with anxiety and depression, episodically, for over 12 years. This year was awful, but I refused antidepressants again as I just felt I was getting nowhere. CBT wasn't helping. But the symptoms lists and accounts of ADHD in high achievers just seemed to chime. I showed it to my GP, we discussed it and she made a referral, but the 18 month waiting list seemed ridiculous. I paid, perhaps impulsively, to go private.
Sunday
Sunday was a great day. I took Concerta at 9am. At 10, I felt more alert that I had felt for weeks - my days are usually various shades of sluggish - and I felt a sense of contentment and sharpness - not a high, but the sense that I was in control of my thoughts and could make decisions if I had to. My husband was planning to visit his parents. My usual way of operating Sundays when he's not around is to think about all the things I could and should be doing but then go back to bed and waste hours and hours pointlessly on social media or 'naughty' sites and spend the evening in self-recrimination. This time I resolved to go out to get lunch and do uni work and he was pleased when we left the house together.
This didn't go entirely to plan. Husband mentioned that we needed to get Christmas Cards. I walked up and down my local high street and got frustrated at how crap they all are, so I got on a bus into the City Centre about 1pm and immediately regretted it. Walking around the City I felt claustrophobic - I noticed butterflies and anxiety, but whilst these are normally linked to intrusive thoughts, they seemed to be detached. I didn't freak out, or go into my bad mood spiral though. I found my 'out' by arranging to go carol-singing with a few members of the choir I am a poorly-attending member of. This was great and put me in a lovely mood for the evening.
I got no uni work done. But I explained to my husband that I didn't feel like I had missed a priority or that I couldn't have done it, other things just got in the way. We watched Star Wars and I had a witty exchange with my best friend (who lives in Yorkshire) via messenger.
About 7pm, I felt rather restless. Focus was slipping and I couldn't decide what I wanted to do (a very familiar feeling). I paced, wasted time on social media, absented myself to go upstairs for some 'relief' (a popular anxiety-relief). Came down again, faffed around, felt anxious - "What if this isn't working?" "What if I haven't got the right diagnosis?" (this will recur) "What if he takes the medication away and I'm left with no answers?".
My husband made copious cups of tea and we attempted to watch another programme on TV, but I couldn't sit still. At about 9pm I went to the kitchen and procrastinated with my uni books in front of me. At about 10:15pm I attempted to write something - actually, this very diary but in a lot more "thought detail" - but tailed off and decided to go to bed.
I then had one of the most awful night's sleep I'd had in months. Right in time for work on...
Monday
Well, getting up was a struggle. But I managed to shamble into the shower, had breakfast and took Concerta at 7:50am. By the time I dropped my husband off at work at 8:20am I was raring to go. Again, felt calm, controlled.
By about 11am I was yawning, but the lack of sleep didn't seem to be affecting me a great deal. I felt tired but not unalert. It was a day of what I'd probably call "almost focus". I bunked off what I should be doing to concentrate on creating a Star Wars Quiz. I did this all afternoon.
Again, throughout, I had a few butterflies and 'micro-anxieties' but these passed. Generally my mood was much better than it has been of late.
Until I was going home, about 5:15pm, when my dickhead of a father decided to ring me and ask for money, dredging up a whole sludgy mess of dormant family issues. Suddenly seized with fear of financial future and the fact that, through mechanisms that are probably best left out of this, I have allowed myself to become a pawn in a 30 year power-struggle between my estranged parents, and nothing that I can possibly do will end well. Everyone around me firmly on one side or another, feel like I'm stuck in the middle. Mood spiral, tears, anxious shutdown.
I managed to recover in the evening to watch The Empire Strikes Back with my husband and make some quips on Social Media. After the film finished, I again went to the kitchen with uni books, but just procrastinated, paced, meandering in and out of focus as husband watched TV and I refreshed my phone.
Monday night's sleep was ok. I woke up a few times and had a couple of nightmares, but managed a solid few uninterrupted hours.
Tuesday
Up first for a change, and took Concerta at 7:50am. Pattern the same, though felt chatty and awake when driving husband in. We had a few jokes about things on the radio and I dropped him off.
Pattern of the day changed around 10am, when I started recalling the conversation with my father the day before and revisited all of the horrible feelings. Felt sick and anxious, and this cyclical feeling became the pattern of the day, in between bouts of feeling ok. Focus was likewise cyclical, and never very high, but still, I did feel more in control at these points than I have done for as long as I can remember.
Cycles of anxiety peaked around 5pm, when I picked my husband up and burst into tears about how awful everything was. When we got home I told him that I was fed up of trying to make everyone happy at the expense of my own - and moreover, his and told him that he ought to think of himself and that if I was making him miserable then he should leave me. Again, though, this seemed to wear off quickly: I didn't mood spiral, but did have another cycle about 8pm where I began to question my diagnosis again - "What if the doctor is wrong and this medication makes it worse?" "What about if this is more serious and I have bipolar disorder/Borderline Personality Disorder?" - Anxious symptom checking followed. Restlessness ensued, but then, again, it settled by the time I went to bed.
Tuesday night I slept straight through for the first time in at least three weeks.