This is Why There are Warnings on Meds, Kids

Today, tonight, rather, is Friday - and on Saturday past, I had a seizure.
The first seizure that I know of having. I say that because, as an ex-addict, it's more than likely that I've had at least one seizure before. Especially given which drug I was addicted to.
This was the first time I was at all aware of having had the seizure, though. I went to bed last Friday night feeling very... off. I don't know how else to put it. I woke up feeling just as strange, if not worse.I woke up Saturday and as the day wore on, quickly might I add, I started feeling notably not good. I was having a hard time staying awake sat on my couch, I felt nauseous, my head felt unbelievably cloudly... I just wasn't right. Eventually, I completely blacked out - which my boyfriend tells me was the seizure. Apparently, my eyes rolled back into my head, I was foaming at the mouth, I was convulsing, and I started off incredibly warm and by the end was shivering. When I came out of it, I couldn't find words and was speaking gibberish, and was incredibly nauseous. I actually puked twice, the last time being late Saturday night, closer to Sunday morning.
The next day, my boyfriend had me call my therapist, and when I ran into her on Tuesday, she told me to see my family doctor. So I did that, which resulted in another repeat of what happened followed by my being taken off of the Wellbutrin I'd come to love, having blood taken, and having to pee in a cup.
Yesterday - Thursday - I saw my psychiatrist, and he offered me two options: A) Stay off the Wellbutrin and just... see how things go, or B) get on something new right away.
Well, I wasn't happy about being off the only antidepressant to ever do much of anything for me, so I chose the latter option. My psychiatrist put me on Prozac, promising the possibility of weight gain was slim. I picked it up today, and I start it tomorrow morning.
I know there are going to be side effects, probably nausea. I just hope I'm able to go to temple - class and ritual - tomorrow, I missed last week because of the seizure, and it's something I look forward to every week.
I still don't know why I had a seizure. I haven't been purging - I think the last time would've been January at the earliest; and June marked my sixth year clean.
I'm still feeling residually tired and worn out.
Hopefully Prozac works out well for me.

I'm Still Alive

It's been a tumultuous couple of weeks.
My depression - that usually spans October/November - February - is continuing into April with a vengeance. It's gotten bad.
Last week, on Thursday, I wanted to kill myself. I wanted to do it. I was going to do it. I could barely stop to catch a thought, my mind was racing. I was hysterical, crying and incoherent. It was when I got home from my CBT group, and it was about 4PM, so my boyfriend was at work. I called him, because I didn't know what to do, and he's the first person I turn to in every situation. In retrospect, I feel incredibly guilty for putting him in that position. He couldn't leave work, and I made him worry he'd come home to me passed out, or a corpse.
So I called a local youth crisis hotline. I'd never called before. I'd always had my boyfriend call and speak for me, because I would get too anxious and I would be crying so hard I couldn't speak properly. Well, that was still the case this time. I don't know how I managed to make the call, but I'm kind of glad that I did. It was a woman who answered, and she was really helpful. We talked for about a half hour, and I felt much more calm, and a little in control by the end of it.
I was going to call a local shelter - more of a safe environment really - to see if I could just go there for a few hours until I felt safe, but I felt like I was okay enough to try to stay safe on my own.
I took a hot shower, used my favorite body wash - strong smells can be grounding - , put on comfortable clothes, made a tea, put a movie - Twilight - on, and got my 3DS and the stuffed Hello Kitty that my boyfriend gave me. I curled up in a blanket writing in my journal, and I tried to be okay. I made it through the night... obviously.
I've been more in control every day since, but every day I still have strong thoughts and urges to hurt and kill myself.
I don't know how to cope. I've been drinking more than I should but I don't care. I woke up for school this morning and went back to sleep for an hour and a half before I finally got up and half-assedly went to school.
I've been trying to write more, because I can turn my blood into ink. I've been listening to music.. a lot. I've been amping up my studies in Wicca, and just today I picked up some more incense for the coming full moon and invoking Hecate, and to dispel the negativity in my life; also picked up a leather bag just the right size for my raw clear quartz point on a string. I burned frankincense earlier today, and cleansed the crystal, and took the opportunity to attune with the Goddess. I'm finding things that.. not work, but help. Improve the moment.
I've been seeing my new therapist - in the DBT program - weekly, and I feel really positive about that. I feel like she can help me. When I saw her on Friday, we talked about Thursday night, and we talked about why I feel like CBT isn't helping me. She made a good point in asking me if exposures are really going to help me get better if I don't have trauma treatment. That my lack of improvement and progress in my attempted exposures is valid, because I have this impediment that the rest of the women in my CBT group don't have.
I get to start group DBT on the fourteenth, and I'm excited about that. It's going to be hard... really hard, but I need to do it. I can't live like this forever. I mean, I would, I absolutely would... but I want to be the kind of girl my boyfriend can love without stress, keep forever, not have to worry about. I know recovery should come from within, but I'm not quite there. I feel like I'm a little closer to being 'there' now than I was a year ago, so that's something. I don't care if I get better, to be honest. However, I care about my boyfriend - I love him more than I hate myself, most of the time - and I want to be better, healthy, recovering and eventually recovered for him. If nothing else, I want a life with him. I also have my goal of becoming a published poet.. so I have little motivators.
I get to - finally - see the psychiatrist on the ninth, which is a great thing, because my medications are in need of some serious tweaking. I know I need my Valium upped. I want to up my Wellbutrin, because now that my purging is almost completely under control I'm much less at risk for seizures, and my depression is at a point where I feel like I need .. more. I love Wellbutrin. I haven't gained at all on it, and I had virtually no side effects, and it just.. works. I just need a little more. .... And I feel like something needs to be done about my psychosis. I'm on Lithium and Saphris - antipsychotics - and I feel like something could be done with that. .... And now that I think of it, I'd like to up my Clonidine - sleep medication - too, because I'm on a very minimal dose, and it doesn't do as much as it could in terms of keeping trauma nightmares at bay.
I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I'm robotic, just going through the motions and every day is the same, occasionally needing to re-charge and being completely useless for a time.
So I'm still here. Alive. Safe.
I'm not okay, but I'm doing my best.

Post-Birthday Update

My birthday came and passed, and I'm still alive. I'm not sure exactly how I feel about that, but I'm trying to see things in a less (completely) negative light.
My boyfriend bought me this really nice metal travel mug that I know was expensive as hell, and he's giving me a bunch of money to see Andrew Jackson Jihad on the 24th, which is too nice of him.. so it's a good present(s).
I had plans to go out with my mother to get coffee and get our nails done. I really thought about cancelling because I hadn't voluntarily seen her in probably a year or more, but I ended up going. It was... awkward, initially, but we started talking, just casual light catch-up stuff. She gave me a book for my birthday - 9-11 by Noam Chomsky - which was really sweet, because I`m pretty sure I`ve only ever mentioned liking his stuff once or twice, and that was while I was still living with her.
We got our nails done, which was nice. We got to talk but nothing of real weight because, well, very public. Afterward we went to go get another coffee, and ended up talking until around 9:30pm. We caught up on years. It was really good. I feel like it`s safe to have her in my life again. She`s doing really well, and knowing what she`s gone through - and having gone through it myself - I feel rather proud of her. I`m just really glad I can be in regular contact with her again. I really did miss her.. I just didn`t realise the extent until we talked.
I`m alive. I didn`t feel the need to drink heavily, or feel the urge to attempt any more than I usually do. Less so, even.
I`m not sure if being off school for a week will be helpful in terms of mental rest, but at least I have the ability to take time to rest. I have, however, been doing some schoolwork. I got more work for the break, in case I finish the book I`m on and want to do more work.
My dad told me that he and my step-mom are probably coming down to visit next weekend - they were going to come for my birthday, but my dad planned it so last minute that they couldn`t make it. They live about five or six hours north of me. When I do see them, though, it will probably include some sort of family gathering - I don`t have a big family, just grandparents and two sets of aunts and uncles and cousins. It`ll be nice, though, because my dad will probably have my birthday present. He ordered it online and it didn`t come in time. Plus, seeing extended family so soon after my birthday almost guarantees birthday money. That would be infinitely helpful in getting started with Wicca.
This week is going to be okay. I`m going to make it okay. I have CBT group on Thursday, and I have my one-on-one with my new DBT therapist on Friday. I`m going to read a lot, rest my mind, and just try to live.

Maybe a Kind of Therapy my Therapist Would Disapprove of

So I've been interested in Wicca - rather, learning about it - for probably over six months. A few months ago, I picked up a couple introductory books of sorts (Scott Cunningham's Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner and Soraya's The Witch's Companion)
I've just barely made progress reading the former - as in, I started reading it today - and already I feel like it just.. makes sense. Speaking religiously, from what I'm reading, Wicca is the closest thing to my core religious/spiritual beliefs. As a child, I believed in the power of nature, the likelihood of reincarnation and multiple deities.
I love the idea of rituals, and am very excited to (eventually) perform some. I've been into crystal healing since I was about sixteen, I just didn't associate the powers of the crystals with Wiccan beliefs. (I got clean at sixteen, and wearing an amethyst point made me ... feel strong. I'm not quite sure how else to put that.) I've also been reading my own tarot cards since I was about seventeen, but didn't associate that either.
I've found some great-looking starter sets on Etsy, plus some decently-priced crystal balls and cauldrons because those are the only things the sets don't include. I'm just really hoping for birthday money. My birthday is this Saturday, so there is hope.
To get to the point, I'm feeling like Wicca may well be a very positive thing for me... however, I know that most therapists don't relish the thought of a patient who practices magic and believes in what is typically beyond the normal.. who also has frequent psychosis issues. That's not to say I'm letting that stop me from getting into this, though. I think learning Wicca and becoming a witch could actually help me help myself - I already know that the crystals make me feel stronger. I wear a wire-wrapped rose quartz any time I'm dressed, and I wear stone plugs (in my ears). As of late, I've been wearing tiger's eye. I did have a fantastic malachite pair but they're too small now.
I'm just feeling very positive about this... venture. It feels like a light at the end of what might as well be a literal tunnel, with the way I've been doing lately, and especially given that my birthday is only getting closer.
The Wiccan principle that to hurt your own body is to go against the belief system is actually something I feel like I might be able to convince myself is a good enough reason to try a little more - to stay self-harm free, to work on my eating or at least make eating manageable, and maybe even to try to stay alive.
I don't know. I'm just feeling ... well, not positive, but much less negative.

The Promised 'About Me'

I'm never sure how to go about describing myself, so I'll just.. dive in.

My name is Jess, and this is my recovery blog.
I'm 21, and I'm a student - finishing up high school credits to get into journalism school.
I'm very passionate about social issues and politics. I'm a Marxist feminist, a white cis woman, and I identify as pansexual. I have a cis male partner whom I love dearly, we've been together a few years now. Our age difference is generally a topic of conversation at first - he's 20 years older than me. I'll get it out there right now that my relationship is non-traditional in that it's a BDSM relationship. I'm a submissive, and that feels like a big part of 'who I am' most of the time. (However, that isn't the focus of this blog, though I'm sure it'll pop up from time to time. I just didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable.)
I love literature, and I do write - mostly poetry, but I'd like to try my hand at a novella. I love music, and am currently focusing on guitar. My first instrument was trombone, and I was in my school's orchestra. I was first chair. My first and likely strongest love is horses. I've been in the saddle since I was about two years old, and I grew up lucky enough to have family with horses. I had a pony to ride through childhood, and now, the mare that I ride is a roughly 15hh Appaloosa. My second great love is travel. I love roadtrips, hopping a plane, train, or greyhound in the spur of the moment. It works wonders for my creative process.
I spend an inordinate amount of time on Tumblr. It's embarrassing, actually.
And, as you may well know, I have a handful of mental illnesses, and I'm also a recovered drug addict (five years!). I don't hide those things about myself, but I'm not one to share, either.
That's about all I've got at the moment, but feel free to ask away (though I'm not sure if Blogger has an inbox in the way that Tumblr does..)

Sending good vibes.

Preface

I'm new to proper blogging - I hail from the land of Tumblr, so I'll do the best I can.

I've had 'issues' for as long as I can recall. My teens were a figurative disaster area, and it's been a rollercoaster of sorts since. To really give the best preface possible, I should explain. I was a teenage drug addict. I lived an incredibly high-risk lifestyle, and I'm lucky I got out okay. I've been clean for five years now, six this coming June.
After I got clean, things got a little easier, but my mental health only improved in the addiction regard. Looking back, the warning signs were clear, in terms of mental illness.
It wasn't until about October of 2013 that my mental health started interfering with my life - rather, my ability to hold a part-time job. I was, however, already on anti-psychotics for a mental illness no doctor could put their finger on. Before that time, though, I was.. functioning. I got by.

It was around that time that my restricting got worse, I started self-harming again, and I made a few unsuccessful suicide attempts.
My memory of my first visit to the emergency psych ward at the hospital is a little fuzzy. I was dazed, and was at my worst point yet. It wasn't until my second time there that the doctor and nurses referred me to treatment. They referred me to a six week DBT program, because they speculated that I might have BPD (borderline personality disorder).
I got into the program quickly after being referred, and after being officially diagnosed with BPD, started both group and one-on-one therapy. It was at this time that my other diagnoses were.. examined. I had already been diagnosed with anorexia - purge subtype, as well as dysthymia. After a.. screening, for lack of better word, I was diagnosed with PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). I was also diagnosed with social anxiety, though meeting the criteria didn't involve quite as many questions.
The psychiatrist assigned to me found a combination of medications that fit together, fit me, and also wouldn't be a trigger (my psychiatrist made sure that every medication she put me on was not what she called "a weight gainer"). The program was time-limited, so at the end of the six weeks I was referred to a much more intensive DBT program, which I was told could be at least a year long depending upon my progress. The waiting list for this program was approximately eighteen months. In the meantime, my therapist referred me to a short CBT program for social anxiety/phobias. I also started attending a self harm support group, and on January 19 of 2014, I stopped self-harming. I can proudly say that I haven't relapsed - though the temptation is always there.

It was a while before I got into the CBT program, and when it did, I didn't find it to be very helpful. Even so, I went every week, did all the homework, and just tried.
After that program ended, my depression was peaking again, so my CBT therapist found me another CBT program, for mood disorders (mostly anxiety and depression). I'm in that program now, and today was session five of twelve.

A little over a week ago, I got the call I'd been waiting for. The head of the DBT program had found me a (female) therapist, which meant that I'll be able to have my first appointment with her (March 13, the day before my birthday) and start one-on-one. From what I'm told, a few weeks into that, I'll be able to start group therapy, and I'll have a psychiatrist to manage my psych medications.

Now, at present, my mental health is on the decline again. I work really hard to eat every day, at least once, and ideally something small while I'm at school. My depression is spiking again, and I do have very self-destructive thoughts. Some of them are suicidal ideations. My psychosis is rearing its ugly head again - for the past three days, I've been in and out of dissociating, and constantly derealized. My anxiety, like my depression, is a constant, something I just.. live with.

All that said, I'm doing the best I can.
I'm trying to do things to feel.. not happy, but at least lessen the bad thoughts for a time. I've picked up playing guitar again, after over a year of not playing out of depression. I play games on my 3DS all the time. I'm writing my poetry again (it's not my best work, but at least I'm producing).
I may not be ready to 'recover' right now, but I'm taking baby steps.
This blog will be primarily about my treatment, but I'm sure some other personal things will slip in somehow.
I'll probably make a (much shorter) post as a kind of 'about me'.

Sending good vibes.