Prescription for mental confusion and anxiety? _{Page 6 of 8}

Hi, I'm still here, I'm just waiting for the smoke to clear. No worries, I'm feeling fine, and know you guys have some stuff to work out. Hope you're able to resolve it - I can see that it's painful/frustrating/crazy-making for all involved.

Here's my update:

Emotionally, I'm feeling fine. Physically, I've got a ton of back pain which wanders all over my back, lower and upper. Got so stiff I could barely move, but loosened it up with extremely hot bath and epsom salts.

I'm going to see a naturopath, and an allopathic doctor, about possible ADD diagnosis. Maybe I can't cure ADD with homeopathy... ?

I do have some questions:

If the Lachesis was causing the irritability, have we reached a conclusion about whether it was a proving or an aggravation?

I feel better now, has it worn off? Or... how do I interpret that?

If I were to try Lyssin, and it were to cause me problems, would I be able to antidote it?

Much love to you David and Nawaz. I hope you both are feeling better.

David, I feel better as in back to normal and not irritable or snappish with anyone. I still feel ADD type symptoms, including:

- difficulty or inability to turn the awareness that I have a million things to do into a plan of ACTION
- trouble activating and directing attention when faced with boring tasks that require mental effort (like packing, organizing a chaotic room, reading a dense, scholarly text). Instead I wander around in circles, unfocussed, not knowing where to start, wasting time, not making progress or making it only very slowly and inefficiently, and then giving up or running out of time.
- failure to stick to systems, like regular use of a day planner, calendar, a to-do list, an organized contact list, a filing system and thus spending inordinate amounts of time searching for keys, purse, an important phone number or document, or an outfit that I'm ok with wearing.
- experiencing time in a way that is not in tune with reality (always late or very last minute - no matter how much time I think I gave myself, arriving unprepared, hungry, or having forgotten some important item)
- focussing best under pressure and stress, feeling spacey and scattered when 'stakes are low'
- hyper-focussing when highly motivated or interested (i.e. forgetting to eat, sleep or rest because I'm creating some masterpiece)
- inability to tell a linear story (always laced with tangents, excerpts, asides, and often ending with...'how did I get on this? or 'what was my point?') - ((btw. I know I express myself clearly in writing. I've had tons of practice via hundreds of years in school. )
- inattention to details (meaning I've always missed some deadline, or failed to adhere to some policy, or forgone some small but crucial requirement detail)
- inability to imagine future events and scenarios (so, even though I've been packing to go visit my dad's farm for the last 20 years, I never have all the basics I need when I get there ... like toothpaste/socks/headlamp, etc, and always bring the wrong clothes for the weather/occasion and overpack useless items).
- impulsivity (taking huge, stupid risks on a whim because of some immediate emotional need, or addictive behavior)

All this is combined with a horrible cowardice that has come as a response (I think?) to always having been a disappointment/failure/joke to my father, a sense of learned helplessness that came from the excruciating outcome of my first love, and a general lack of resiliency and self-esteem, AND the availability of my mother's house in which to hide and avoid the world.

Naturally, this causes great anxiety as, day after day, I try to get my life together with ineffectual efforts. Sometimes I try hard and the ADD stuff gets in the way. Sometimes I gather great energy to form a tremendous push forward, and experience some great successes but then sabotage it because of some impulsive action. And sometimes I'm just lazy, uninspired and depressed, and I admit, don't even try. And sometimes, I just get carried away on some project (like taking apart and fixing my sewing machine) and don't even think about the fact that I've got far more pressing tasks at hand.

I'm not moving forward. I haven't moved forward in a hundred years. My hair has grayed, and here I am. I think I have an amazing inspiration to move to South America (that will change my life!) ... and then I'm horrified to find some passage scrawled in some half-filled notebook indicating that I dreamed this dream fifteen years ago.... but never acted. I'm paralyzed. I'm treading water. Am I really even here? Why am I so disconnected to my will? I go days, sometimes weeks without leaving the house. I'm a loser. People say, 'what do you do?' and I can't say anything at all.... what do I do? Nothing. A bunch of things, but nothing, really, and sometimes just nothing at all. The shame of it.

I love being in school, where I can expand internally (if not externally) and my mind is kept so busy, so stimulated, fascinated by all the things in the world: history, language, anthropology, psychology, philosophy, art, science, theater... I love it all. School is structured for me, all I have to do is show up and be myself. I'm a great student - totally engaged, synthesizing, creative, and I go the extra mile - a hundred extra miles!!! I'm a perfectionist, but I really truly want to know all that they can teach me. I stay up all night studying, I eat and breath my subject, I set the bar higher for the whole class, but I'm also unable to have a social life at the same time, unable to maintain healthy physical habits. And, when the class is over I go into a little post-partum depression. And, I never move forward. I stay in one place, collecting education like other people collect possessions. I avoid entering the world. Is this ADD stuff? Or is this my particular neurosis? Or is it just a tragic character flaw?

The phone hardly rings at my house. I don't reach out to people. I'm getting more shy and uncomfortable with people from lack of practice. I'm stagnant. The more I think, but fail to act, the less faith I have in myself. I can't face people for the shame of what has happened to my life. Terror seizes me and I am frozen in a silent scream. My boyfriend goes out every day, and I've learned to let him go, but I envy his easy friendships, his way of just getting things done and not thinking them to death, his fearlessness to get out and interact with the world.

He's a big part of my survival, like all my boyfriends have been (except that one bad one). They take care of me. They know where my car keys are, or at least can find them in a fraction of the time it will take me. They straighten up our living space, remind me of important dates, get me out of the house on time by rushing me and doing half of it for me, they have supported me financially, they push me when otherwise I'd just space off and marinate in my own swirling delusions.

I know I could contribute great things to the world...if only.... what??? I have so much love and creativity and energy to offer!!! But I'm so scared, so full of doubts, so ineffective. I sabotage things. I'm always late. I have no good excuse for all the holes on my resume. I can't organize to save my life. I don't get up early, I don't get to sleep at a reasonable time, I perpetuate a chaotic environment and I can't seem to stick to a system. I don't form routines. I'm impulsive and don't have enough respect for rules and authority to just stay out of trouble. And I'm afraid that I'm incompetent.

Whew... another vomiting of admissions. Thank you for listening.

Oh, I forgot to say the teeth grinding seems to be getting worse. Every day I wake up with a headache and a sore jaw. SOmetimes my teeth feel kind of loose and sore too. It's scary because I feel like they're all going to fall out.

lycopodium, thanks for dropping me a line, and for the encouragement. I know I'm not bipolar, if that's what you're wondering? I did have a manic episode once, it was when I was finally coming out of the acute stage of the hell I was in after that person left me. I had been prescribed Paxil, which was helping. For a period of maybe a month (maybe longer?) I was classically manic: racing thoughts, racing/tumbling/agitated/incessant speech, giddy laughing fits, no need for sleep, elated emotions - like a cocaine high.

This isn't that. That, I think, was my brain trying to regain homeostasis and overshooting its mark at first. This feels really, really different.

Thank you for your concern and input!

Nawaz, thank you for your good wishes. I'm happy to know you're feeling well. May the universe continue to support you and give you whatever you need.

you mean the manic state? no, i don't think i'd ever been manic like that before! Sure, I'd been hyper, over the moon about something, giddy, etc - but this was different, especially in contrast to my depression which was like being insane with grief, and then sort of being like, almost catatonic with exhaustion - mental, physical, spiritual exhaustion. And I stayed manic like that for too long a time, rather than it being a momentary elation.

I'm confused about what you're asking.

After the acute depression and angst I went into a mania before it regulated out to be a more normal depression and then eventually, normal highs and lows like everyone has. I really think it was a normal, adaptive process of my brain trying to regain homeostasis.

They were not entirely new feelings - of course, I'd been giddy, excited, outgoing, elated before when occasions warranted.... but never to this extreme degree, and never held it for so long. That's what made it 'mania' and not just a passing mood. Does that answer what you're asking?

Thank you so much David! I really appreciate your considerable efforts and time put toward helping me!!!

Thank you for that!

I'm really having an acute problem with the bruxism - my jaw hurts all day, and I'm very unrested - my sleep is very disturbed by the teeth grinding. Is there anything I can do for that right away?

remedy grid says belladonna

Ok here are a few more questions to clarify your meaning.

How do you experience time?

I guess I underestimate it. I always think I have plenty of time, and a firm grip on it, but then it slips out of my hands, like a wriggling eel, it gets away from me so easily. I'm left with a jolt of adrenaline and a feeling that 'SH*T! now I've done it...AGAIN!' when I look at the clock and realize what seemed like a lot of time a minute ago, now is clearly not enough. I get so angry, since I do the same d*** thing every d*** time, and I should know better - but for some reason, before it's too late it always seems like there's plenty and after it's too late I puzzle over how it could have changed in the span of a moment.

What is the experience of 'a tremendous push forward'?

That means I gather all my strength and force myself to do all the things that I find really hard: I stockpile my optimism and use it to leverage enough courage to push through a round of interviews, being scrutinized, accepted or rejected, etc.. marathoning several consecutive days of insomnia - sometimes a week - raw nerves, sweaty palms, high hopes, pushing through the stress, get the job, or admission to the program, or whatever. I am an imposter and can't believe that I've managed to convince them to give me a chance, but determined to do everything in my power to keep it, to rise to the occasion, no matter if the stress is frazzling my nerves and my mouth tastes like metal and I'm making it up as I go along. It means I'm doing everything 'right' as I possibly can, even though it's like fighting against every fiber in my being - especially keeping the hours: for the first spell I'll be wired on adrenaline, sleepless, pulse racing in my ears... then the big crash, sleep like a trainwreck, and then every morning after that hateful wretched alarm dragging me out of the womb too early, prematurely, a shock I think I've recovered from, until midday, and then it's nearly impossible to keep my head up, the adrenaline of the rude awakening wears off. I guiltily make up for it on the other end - working late into the night, trying to catch up. Pushing, pushing, pushing, and never really getting to a point where I can sail, or ride a momentum. Reminds me of how my poor dog used to try and dog paddle across the pond while we children floated behind her for the ride, holding on to her tail. We'd all by drown her.

What is the experience of 'not moving forward'? What prevents you?

Blankness. Looking forward as if into a thick, pale grey fog. Not moving because I can see no logical next step. The future is 'over there' some where, always out of reach, and I can't find the path to burst myself into color, into movement. I think of a cat or dog looking for the most comfortable way to recline that has gotten stuck turning turning turning and never just plopping down.

What is the experience of 'paralyzed'? Give more words for this word/sensation.

Like my brain has gone totally blank, but is bursting with the pressure of urgency. I have no idea what to do or how to move, just a objectless feelings of great need for movement and change. Desperation, and the desire to scream on the top of my lungs, but the simultaneous realization that it wont do anything but just hurt my own throat and ears. Impotence. Resigned to a gaping mouth, silent scream that screeches shrilly in the formlessness in my head. Great self hatred, because I am failing myself. Sometimes, a desire to slap myself out of sheer desperation, but an equal awareness of the disagreeability of being slapped. Sitting and trying to push an answer out of my head, like it's constipated. Not even tears will come and relieve me. I spin while sitting totally still.

Describe more on 'expand internally'.

Being in school is like a fire being lit inside. Movement happens internally as my mind goes on a great journey. I love the cool smell of fall and the bike ride to school. I'm alone a lot, but not lonely, since the whole world is keeping me company in my thoughts. Sometimes I'm stumped on something I'm struggling to understand, but I persevere, and work and work and concentrate and seek with everything I have - and then BAM - rays of light, I understand something new, I see miraculous and wonderful sights, and my psyche feels so expansive and free, like a powerful bird. I write and write and time ceases to exist and nothing bothers me in my bubble. I don't care that my back is hurting, and I don't feel hungry or need to sleep. I'm excited and aglow with all the movement inside. I love to learn - it is the times when I feel such joy and power and competency! I'm proud of myself and my work. I grow tall inside. I contribute and I'm valuable to my classmates. My arms could reach around the world and hold it.

What is the experience of 'staying in one place never moving, collecting things'?

Like a dried up old leaf that has blown into some dry dusty corner under a concrete house, where it wont even get to be part of the natural cycle of decomposition that allows one thing to become the next. Other leaves will be born bright and gleaming green and promising, and blow it's course and see things and be a leaf, and eventually die and make the soil rich like chocolate, and be born again as the next incarnation... and the old dried up leaf will just lie there, colorless, preserved, stuck, watching, an outsider, isolated, taxidermy'd, becoming more brittle, more useless, until it turns to dust.

Describe more words for 'stagnant'.

Like murky water that never moves and becomes foul.

What is the experience of having 'terror seize me'?

I push it to the back of my consciousness. I bury it under little meaningless things to do. I flit around pretending to have a plan, to be on a path, so those around me don't get angry. But at times when the house is still and there's nothing to keep it stuffed back there, peeking at me from under the covers, it wells up so suddenly, grips me by the throat, stares me in the face with a stern humorless glare and repeats the aweful truth, clawing at my heart, that I'll NEVER escape this prison unless I just throw myself away because there's something nameless WRONG with me, something I'm powerless to shed a light on, to respond to, like this malignant tumor that can't be detected but grows larger and more unmanageable every day and then I'm cowering at the enormity of it, the coldness of it, the echoing aloneness of being no one's problem but my own.

I used to have a nightmare when I was a child. I am very very small, floating in the huge, dark night-time ocean. I suddenly look up and the dark hull of an enormous ship looms and towers over me, bearing down on me, crushing my tinyness with its massive, iron presence. I'm dragged under, suffocated and demolished by a massive iron propeller - a gigantic piece of machinery that dominates me entirely and without mercy. The most frightening part is something about how the I observe the ship's hull comes to such a small and delicate point at it's base, like me, but then grows at an alarming (sickening) rate as the eye travels upward to become this inconceivably massive impenetrable crushing object. I feel this fear in the pit of my stomach, and as tight bands squeezing my heart. That's still what this terror feels like. There's no escape.