[Nissala]

Let me start at the beginning. I guess I’ve been dealing with depression and social anxiety since my late 20’s, although I didn’t realize the social anxiety part until recently. Thinking back, I have tried to avoid large social gatherings since that time or being the center of attention. I just thought I was weird that way. I have been off and on anti-depressants since my late 20’s and since 2006 and the suicide of my youngest son, I’ve been on them regularly. That is until April 2015. Here’s what happened:

In November 2014 I lost my job of almost 20 years due to a mistake I made. I was on unemployment and had to draw out what little money I had in retirement funds to survive while I looked for another job. I live in Alabama and my brother in Florida, so looked for jobs between the two. In April 2015, I attended a job fair with my brother and landed a job. I felt lucky at the time because I needed work as what little money I had was almost gone. I had also ran out of my anti-depressants, and with no insurance couldn’t get any or go to a doctor because of money. I was also on medication for ADHD, which hadn’t ran out yet.

I managed to make it through the interview process and the weeks’ worth of training for my new job. Although my nerves were a little shaky I thought it just being the job change and after going to the floor to shadow the person currently in the position, I really got nervous. When I saw where I would actually be working it was a sea of people! There were trails between the desk set ups for walking but there had to be three to four hundred people per floor!
I still pushed to finish training and keep the job, I needed the money.

The first two weeks were rough on the floor, but I kept telling myself I would get used to it. The third week, I ran out of ADHD medication and the bottom fell out! I started having an intense fear of going to work, of seeing all those people. I was living with my brother and sister-in-law so felt I had to go, it’s what they expected, so I pushed harder. The next day, a Wednesday, I found myself in the ER for one of the worse panic attacks I ever experienced. I called my sister-in-law on the way and asked her to meet me there, I was terrified as this had never happened before.

They gave me some kind of shot to calm me down and sent me home.
My sister-in-law did some research while I was sleeping and later told me that I was going through withdrawals from the antidepressants and that we could handle this naturally by using supplements. So we started me on several supplements. I was unable to go to work the rest of the week, would have severe anxiety just thinking about it. I slept pretty much the first three or four days, getting up to smoke, go to the restroom and eat when they told me to. I felt like a child at 52 years old.
The following Monday I returned to work, anxiety ridden and fearful. The first few days back I could only manage a few hours and had to leave due to crying episodes and feelings of hopelessness. I wanted to go back to Alabama, I wanted to be with my children, grandchildren and dogs. Even though my children are grown, I felt that is where I needed to be.

I still continued to push myself to go to work with the other four thousand and something employees for months. Enduring the panic attacks, taking off several times a day to ride down the road and cry my eyes out, then return to work and try to finish the day. I would wear my ear buds and listen to music with no words to drown out the chatter of people and focus on work. Music with lyrics would trigger memories which triggered crying my eyes out.

On September 11th, I found an Ativan in my purse the doctor had prescribed me when I went to the ER. I hadn’t been taking them because my sister-in-law said it would mess me up again because she wanted to “cure me naturally”. When I told her I took a fourth of one and made it through the afternoon she fussed at me about it. Saying “do you know what that’s going to do to your body? What’s going to happen when you run out? I’ve been busting my *** researching ways you can beat this without the meds!”

I was crying and told her that when you’re driving to work and want to swerve into the semi that your passing hoping you will die in the accident because you want to escape the pain, it’s time to do something. She said that she didn’t know what else to do, that she didn’t want to “Baker Act” me (which in Florida is where you can have a person committed to a facility for psychiatric evaluation for up to 72 hours). That scared the hell out of me, I told her I loved her, appreciated all they had done, but I needed to go home. So packed my stuff that night and left the next morning.

I came home on Saturday, September 12th. My nerves were jangled driving out of Florida and I was crying wondering if I had made the right decision, but once I saw the Alabama state line I calmed. That day was a good day, I felt like my old self, but it was short lived. Sunday I managed to do some cleaning and dealing with the dogs, visiting my daughter (who lives across the street) and playing with the grand babies. Monday, panic set in. I had no job, less than a hundred dollars to my name and I had bills to pay. I spent the day putting in job applications.
Tuesday, I was a basket case, couldn’t stop crying, worrying and shaking, so went to the ER. They gave me a prescription for Celexa and sent me home. I tried to be normal, but was crying all the time, so stayed in my room and slept. By Saturday, September 19th, the panic attacks were so bad I went back to the ER for another evaluation. This time they gave me hydroxyzine for my nerves, which made me tired and very groggy when I did wake up.

For the next few weeks I have barely came out of my room. Only long enough to let the dogs out and feed them, maybe play with the grand kids for 20 minutes or so and then back to bed. I only went across the street to see my daughter a couple of times, as I just feel panicky when I try to go outside. So I stayed in my room, in the dark, in the bed and occasionally pull the covers over my head to try and block out the light and noise.
I found a clinic through my daughter-in-law that helps low income families. I have been twice, the first time they put me on Zoloft. After three weeks of severe side effects I called the doctor back yesterday and informed her what I was going through, and she called in a script for Prozac. I took it last night and didn’t sleep well, and today has been a blur, my mind is so cloudy.
I can remember a time when I always saw the positive, the silver lining, the good side to everyone and every situation…even through two abusive marriages… but I can’t see them anymore. All I see is negative. People say “its just a matter of focusing on the positive” and “Think Positive” and you’ll be okay. For some its an easy task, for me..every positive thought gets shot down by a negative one…I wrote in my journal one day that depression, or at least mine, is like being at the bottom of a dark, wet well seeing a trickle of light above and clawing desperately at the wet, slimy sides trying to climb out, only to have the light move a mile away for every inch you climb…

[Skeezyks]

Hello Nissala: I'm sorry to read of your struggles. It's difficult enough to be struggling with depression & anxiety. But then to have the economic problems you have piled on as well, just makes everything all that much worse. And also, being 52, you're now entering those years when, at least from my perspective, it begins to get even more difficult to just keep going. Age adds it's own whole set of hurdles. (I'm in the latter half of my 60's.)

I was glad to read that you were able to find a clinic that serves low income people. Hopefully, over time, they will be able to get you onto a medication, or medications, that will help. Unfortunately, as I'm sure you know, this can take some time. I've taken a variety of different antidepressants over the years. The only one I ever found to be genuinely helpful was Cymbalta & it's generic equivalent.

I hope that you will be able to keep climbing, even though that light at the top of the well seems to keep receding. I send warm thoughts your way with the hope that it might be so...

[shatteredexistence]

Sending hugs your way. I wish it was as easy as "thinking positive". I'd have been cured years ago.

Hi Nissala,

Such awful things you're going through... depression, anxiety and money troubles on the top of that. But still you keep on fighting, and that shows one thing: you are braver and stronger than you think, even you may not feel it right now, in the middle of this turmoil.

I really wish I could do something for you, but I'm not in a very good place either, so I can only send you a hug:

Take heart. Things are not going to be this bad forever.