Category: Dark thoughts

When the dream catcher fails to catch all your dreams

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So I went all the way to London. I am from Egypt you see, I had to pay good money for a visa, and lots more for accommodation and living expenses. One hefty sterling pound costs 23 Egyptian pounds. You get the picture.

Any-who. We travelled, out of pocket. We did everything by the book. We stayed in the nicer areas. By we I mean my husband and I, and later my sweet father. We ate out, he took me shopping. He transferred money to me weekly even though he was already paying for most of the stuff.

He isn’t a millionaire. He isn’t a business man. He is just a loving father.

Twenty five days we stayed in London. Day in day out. My husband visited every single second he had. He took me out even to the west end.

I cried in their arms and laughed some more.

I was not prepared however for what the doctor told me one fine morning.

He told me Nour you have to go home. I didn’t comprehend. What home? Like the place we are renting out here in London? No? Home as in Cairo? As in the Middle East, pyramids and all? Why!! I am following your words by the book. Doctor Zamar your words are my command like literally.

Why summon me and tell me this?

It figures the bloody Prozac is giving me horrible withdrawal symptoms. He can’t treat me with them taking place. It is nothing personal he said but rTMS won’t be efficient. Nothing would work.

His plan was to fly me home and give me back Prozac and instead of weaning me off cold turkey; to tapper it off gradually.

Trivia: do you know that they don’t sell Prozac in smaller doses than 20 mg in many countries?

Guys, people of the pharmaceutical world stop lobbying against recreational drugs and kindly start putting your **it together with psychotropics.

An Arabic word comes to mind to describe the situation “Haram”; it roughly translates to “god forbidden”.

God forbids this bullshit companies are selling to us the millions of us this shit as pain relief…

God forbids you to prescribe us shit that will literally make us want to end our lives

God forbids you from making zillions hurting us and also making us dependent on you with every cell of our body.

We don’t need strong will to quit the poison you are selling us, we need a miracle.

I was willing to undergo Electric Chock Therapy ECT- which would basically erase what is left of my poor memory- just to get rid of the effect of the antidepressant in my body. That my friend is like asking me to deep fry my hand to get rid of a mole. It is that illogical. But I was willing to; cross my heart. Doctor bless him said it would be useless.

So now after quitting dear Prozac – the sweet antidepressant that is almost given over the counter – and I swear to god given to “normal” people who just want to lose weight; I am back to square one. I am taking it again. And will reduce the dose every 10 days.

I can’t give you more feedback about my new treatment as it came to a halt.

But for the love of god, for the love of Jesus, of Moses, Mohamed, and Buddha; NEVER take antidepressants if you might be suffering from a mood spectrum disorder.

TBC

I just checked myself in a few hours ago and now I want to run through the iron gates and never come back.

I cannot deal with my thinking, my needs, my wants, my moods.

Is this a magic spell?

Get me in here

Get me out of here

My patience is nonexistent and my insight is blurred with my tears.

End this torment for I am at the end of my rope

This song is on a loop and it won’t stop

TBC

You must know

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Know that I love you since before I was born

Know that I loved you since before you were born

Know that you are my every reason for being

Know that I want to leave to set you free

I try and I fail and I try again and I fail and fall harder

Maybe this time it will work

In the world of rapid cycling

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Hello everyone. Bla bla bla yes I haven’t written for a while, miss you, etc.

You know it is not me who is inconsiderate or rude: am rapid cycling.

Say what? Say one day am high as a kite (a small kite since am bipolar 2), and the next am digging a tunnel to the the after life (does that even make any sense?)

You get the picture. Am a yo-yo, I am a roller coaster, a bullet train with bad breaks.

I enjoy my ups and do accomplish a lot; especially if you count shopping as an accomplishment. I spend hours without eating (big high five since I tend to feed like a newborn every 2 hours). I even live on 5 hours of sleep and I am Eeyore on any other day.

Woke up at 6 am today (weekend here on my side of the world) and hoped into my trainers and on to the kettle and to my smokes.

Am sociable, am pretty, am smart and talkative. I love it.

I wrote this down to me Nour. Yes to me, for in a few hours I will feel like dirt is better than me. I will feel empty and useless and I will become a burden. I will get back to staring at the ceiling and doing nothing but dealing with suicidal ideation.

Today however I will kiss my kids, a lot and lots more. I will go for a long walk like the book says. I will have lunch with my beautiful loving family and I will dress to impress. I will put on my make up and my new earrings. I will take a selfie or two and hashtag them to mentalhealthawareness.

Meanwhile my rapid cycling friend; I freakin feel you. You are my hero.

Remember, for every down there is an up coming and heck yes we shall ride the wave and rise to the moon.

Bless

TBC

If I were

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If I were at the hospital

I would wear my pyjamas all day

I would say good morning to everyone

I would wake up on time

I would have breakfast at the communal table

I would go for a smoke when the nurses say so

I would wear a nicotine patch To get me through the day, and I would be allergic to it

I would use the communal shower and dry up with a bed sheet; I would find hair everywhere and stay with my slippers on

I would wait for the doctor to pass by and say the daily bla-bla-bla;

I would play Sudoku- pen and paper sir not online

I would stare at my family’s portrait hung on the window and imagine them touching my face

I would move my chair around to be in the sun, seeking emotions and failing to find none

I would be disconnected; off the grid and not feel guilty about it

I would pretend it is doing me good to be here

I would take my blood pressure and temperature every day

I would talk to others about side effects of this or that

I would fancy getting better

I would know it is good for me, it has to be; it better be

I would feel guilty about the kids, my husband, my father; my kids, my husband, my husband, my husband, my father, my father, my father, my father….but my kids…

I would wait for 2pm when visits start, no no tears this time

I would wait for 7pm when I can call the kids and ask them to sing me a song, sometimes they would

I would give them imaginary baths and diners

I would blow imaginary kisses and I would make belief that I am tucking them to bed

I would kiss my husband good night and say a silent prayer, god let tomorrow be normal – one more day

I would beg for the drugs to black me out at 8pm

Dinner would be sprouts and more sprouts. Some borrowed olive oil here and some salt

The other day I took the kids bowling and felt so self accomplished just as if I landed on the freakin moon

I am sitting by the louvre sipping my Bloody Mary with tears

People are standing up here and there trying to get a perfect picture

They bend and jump into strange angles to look like the pyramid is on the palm of their hand

It is all make belief, looking for the perfect moment

A tour guide has an umbrella up for everyone to follow her

Where else would they go I wonder? Isn’t this the perfect moment? To follow someone without thinking? Tick this box and that one. Been there, done that…

We talk and talk and talk and talk

We shut up and up and up and up

We should know better

I am writing compulsively, but you don’t have to read me

It is building up

I know myself, I wish I didn’t

Solve it; for you god brought me here in the first place

No shame; maybe some

No regrets; just a few

Oblivion where are you?

TBC

Recharging

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I was reluctant to fly back home. I was worried about meeting family and friends.

I didn’t want to have to deal with pity. I didn’t want to answer questions. I didn’t want to remember who I was before I got sick, or know who I am now.

It was not easy in the beginning. I broke down because I was so ashamed of what had become. It was a feeling beyond me. I felt my failure and forgot all the progress I had made.

I was so tempted to end it all. I held on to the thought of how I would disappoint my loved ones if I do.

I shrank into a ball in bed, fighting my demons. My family and friends would come in one at a time to try and talk to me. I didn’t have words to say. I wanted to shut off the world. I hid behind my blankets to avoid seeing them- seeing me like this.

I asked for medication, I couldn’t do without. I got some tranquilizers, a benzodiazepine. I popped a few – nothing dangerous. I had to numb the pain. I wanted to get out on the other side – the good side.

I asked for an antidepressant. I am away from my doctor and didn’t want to call her. No energy to explain anything to anyone. I decided to take Prozac 20 mg as a preventive dose for further attacks. Just the thought of another one was enough to kill me.

As these things take time, not surprisingly I got another attack a week or so after. A few days before, I had started to feel the ups of hypomania; rapid thoughts, loss of sleep, increased self confidence. It was mild and honestly I enjoyed it. What a nice break from depression… but I worried about the crash after. The higher you go, the lower you will get.

One day shortly after I felt paralyzed when sitting on a small cliff by the beach a few meters away from my family.

I was trying to relax. It hit me as I was looking at the waves and the horizon. I was in harmony with the scenery and little by little I had to lie down. I could not sit anymore. So I did, and thought I should relax some more. A horrible fear of falling hit me. I couldn’t stand up, I couldn’t move a muscle, I couldn’t talk. I waited for it to pass, I do not know for how long.

My daughter saw me as she was swimming and I managed to wave to her. I asked her when she came up to tell my husband to come to me. He shielded me as I crawled away from the cliff when everything was swirling around me. I don’t know why this happened. I just hope it will be my last attack.

I will check in with my doctor once I am back about the drugs am taking.

Yet, despite all this, I am proud of this trip. I am proud I was able to break this wall of fear and to accept love and empathy.

I am proud of being loved and cared for. I am proud of receiving all these hugs and all this care. I still feel vulnerable and worry of breaking- of course there is no magic cure. But somehow I know the worst is over.

There are residues for sure. Yet for those who might have similar stories, reach out, find those who care for you. You might not want to, you might fear what they will say, you might worry about how they will see you… Don’t.

As much as mental illness is mysterious, as much as love is.

Love has a healing power, especially when it is unconditional. Don’t worry about facing the world. I was swept off my feet with care – literally. I had forgotten the power of living “in” a society versus the isolation I face when in Paris.

As much as I didn’t want to go on holidays because when depressed you couldn’t care less, as much as I knew I had to. I wanted to do that for my husband and for my children. They got so worn out that past year with so much pressure- mostly from me.

I put one foot in front of the other and did it. I was challenged to sit by the beach! Imagine that… I was challenged to see my children have ice cream! It was difficult to let go and enjoy islands and beaches and hotels and swimming pools… yes believe me when down no one cares about all that.

Yet magically the change of scenery worked. One at a time like a flower opening its petals, the family started to relax. It was probably contagious. I started to enjoy things instead of being lethargic. It took time, but it happened.

I cannot stress enough the importance of holidays. Needless to say it can be as simple as going to the park and enjoying the view, no need to travel miles to do that. I will personally try and keep this concept of having a break in our family routine. I urge you to do the same.

I will check in more frequently, and I will try to talk about this journey of mine, which I hope will end in recovery.

TBC

Bless

Dark thoughts

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They sneak in they crawl under my skin

Never invited they come in

I wish I knew when to expect them

They twist and divide themselves into thousand particles

They make me think of the worst possible outcome

I close my eyes and push them back

As I do they get stronger and louder

I keep this fight till my voice is gone

Do something they command to end it

I am voiceless, paralyzed with nothing but fear

I am invaded, occupied by the worst enemy

Oh dark thoughts why do you come back, didn’t we agree I can’t?

I wish to obey but strength I have not

I wish to disobey but fear I cannot

Leave me alone I silently scream

Too late they laugh you are not you anymore

My only consolation is maybe then I would be left alone

Maybe then no more tears will be shed

Perhaps everything will settle into place

No more screaming no more guilt no more pain

It would be the gift of life to everyone

On shame

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Raw

That is how you feel after one of them attacks

Raw

Like the flesh of your wounds that you cannot hide from yourself

Raw

As shame invades your soul trying to find even seeds of regret

Raw

Emotion and thought entangled in a web like a knot I cannot undo

Raw

I wish I can curl up and wait till the storm is over

Raw

I know that this is a dream for I am the storm

Shutting off

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On good days I try. I try hard…

Sometimes my system shuts down. I cannot help it. I shut off completely. It starts with pain and ends with pain. Everything hurts to the extend that I cannot imagine surviving.

My head throbs just like an earthquake. My back curls like I am being sliced with a knife. My stomach is invaded with nausea that I cannot describe. I cannot breath. I cry and I cannot breath. My chest is contracted and I cannot find air. I force myself to breathe, yet each breath revives the pain in my body.

It goes on and on and on. I drift into sleep and lose count of the hours. I wake up and the minute I open my eyes, I feel the pain as fresh as it was before I fell asleep. I shut down.

When this happens no one can save me. I cannot take medication, I cannot ask for help. It hurts beyond my humanity.

I think I should die then and there, but I cannot do it. I am too weak or too strong I don’t know. I cannot do it for my family. Yet I cannot imagine going through this one more second.

I am a failure, nothing can convince me otherwise. I have no pride, no achievements, no future. I have immense pain shattering my body into pieces. It is worse than anything I experienced before. As if my body says it cannot live one more second, yet it remains in this pain crippled by its own doing. What is this misery ?

TBC

The day before my hospitalization

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As I smoke the day’s first cigarette, I wonder…

It has been decided yesterday that I will be hospitalized tomorrow.

Dread is all what comes to mind. A new place it is, specialized in mood disorders.

The ward I will be occupying will have 6 patients. Six individual rooms isolated from the outside of the hospital; from the outside world.

I worry about small details; will the room be warm enough? Will the charger reach my bed? Will they let me out to smoke?

I also worry about visitation rights. It is no prison I know, but there will be strict rules to follow.

How long will this stay be? When will I graduate to the open ward, where I will have access to the courtyard and the cafeteria? Will I get permissions to go out? When will I see my children again?

Soon enough all these mundane questions will be answered, and other ones will surface.

I will write as much as I can….

TBC

On waiting

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I want to be readmitted to the hospital, but there is no place for me today. Maybe there will not be either till Monday. That means I have to keep my will to go for hospitalization alive till then. That means I have to give my family and specifically my babies the cold shoulder. Otherwise, I will change my mind again.

I know no one else understands the cyclical problem I am facing. Today is the last day before the weekend. This means today is the last day before total meltdown. I want to be safe before it. For others all days are the same. The dread of the weekend is creeping up on me like a thousand ants…

Will I have the will to go after the weekend? What will happen? I keep my drugs with my father. I will not go out alone. I do not even want to go out. I have to wait and waiting is what I hate the most about this whole process. If I could manage to sleep it through…

We have to wait for doctors’ appointments, for drugs to kick in, for drugs to taper off, for places in hospitals, for visits at the clinic, for permissions to go out, for the right moment to leave the kids when on perm, for the nurse to give you the pills, for the lunch tray, then dinner tray, for healing to occur, for convalescence to endure….

We have to wait to kiss our children goodbye, we have to wait to greet our children… We have to wait to explain over and over again what is wrong with us.

To hell with this waiting, yet we even have to wait for hell..

TBC