Part 2. (If you haven't read the previous entry, you might want to start there)
So, after this frightening episode with the antibiotic, I firmly believed everything would be fine. I had no idea my life would take such a drastic turn in the months to come. After I got over the walking pneumonia, I returned to everything as normal; school, my two jobs, and my social life. Something had changed, though. I had changed. My thought process was changing and, being that I was a veteran on the anxiety front, for someone my age anyway, I knew what was happening, but wanted to pretend like it wasn't. I began feeling twinges of anxiety during day to day activities that I had, just weeks ago, found mundane and simple. It started out with things like being stuck behind the cash register ringing up someones purchase at my retail job, or being nervous about meeting with my teachers for school. It then escalated to being afraid of sitting at stop lights when driving because I felt "stuck." Things kept getting worse and worse, while I tried to ignore them. I didn't tell my parents or anybody about what I was feeling because deep down I felt that if I said it out loud and discussed it, then it made it all real. I seemed to be keeping up the facade for a while but then came the day my family and I would never forget.
I suppose I remember that day so well because I've relived it over and over in my mind so many times, trying to figure out what exactly broke the camel's back that day. It was December 8, 2008. I had about two weeks left in the semester for school, and was dealing with the usual holiday rush at both my retail job and hostessing job at the restaurant, but nothing I didn't think I could handle. That day, I got up and got ready as usual. I had to meet with my English teacher that day (whom I was the most comfortable with out of all my teachers) and had some work to get done at the school. I noticed that I was feeling a bit more anxious than usual while waiting to see my teacher, but I brushed it off, knowing that in those past couple of weeks that had been fairly normal. It was particularly cold and gloomy that day so, I tried to make myself believe that this extra anxiousness was a product of the uncomfortable and somber weather. Thinking it may help, I decided to stop into Starbucks before I had to be at work (retail) and get a hot chocolate (definitely didn't need coffee). I remember sitting there thinking how off the whole day had felt. Again, I shrugged it off and headed to the mall early (the store I work at is in there) and figured I'd just walk into a few stores to kill time. I went into a few shops and ended up in a christian bookstore. It was in there, that I began to have a full blown, couldn't see straight, in tears, panic attack. After speaking with my mom on the phone and pacing back and forth, I ended up skipping out of the mall, and called work and lied that I had a flat tire and couldn't come in tonight. I felt like I was in my junior yr. of high school all over again, only worse. If that wasn't bad enough, I could barely drive home. I was suddenly more terrified than ever at being stuck at those stop lights and was in such panic that I would literally contemplate whether or not just to pull out into traffic just to get me out of there. Finally, I got home, but the panic didn't end there. Luckily, I was wise enough to take a Lorazepam the second I walked in the door, because I was in a state of non-stop panic until that pill kicked in. And that was it, the day when fear became a permanent fixture in my life.
Back to the drawing board, aka: the doctor. Being that I was already on Effexor and had Lorazepam on hand, I wasn't exactly sure what he could do for me, but I guess my parents thought maybe the meds needed "tweaking." The doctor decided to up my dose of Effexor. Strike one. This caused rapid heartbeat that was debilitating. Went back to the doctor and he says "Let's try Pristiq, it's the new and improved version of Effexor. I think it will work great for you." HAHAHA! That was funny! This was worse than any of them. This is what is now affectionately known in my house has the "hell pill." I had never felt in a darker place than I did when I was on that stuff. While taking it, I asked my parents if I was dying, and openly talked about wanting to hurt myself. It was a scary one. Strike two. Oh, and my doctor decided I should be taking Lorazepam once in the morning and once at night so my body would get used to them and I would stop feeling so fatigued and numb from taking them. Wrong. I was more numb, sleeping more than ever, and still had panic. Plus, my doctor failed to mention that taking that much of that stuff when you weigh about 110 lbs can quickly cause an addiction type situation. What a wonderful situation I was now in. Strike three.
I think by the next post I'll make it up to present day. Sadly the worst is still to come....
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