Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Fear

"Everyone has characteristic patterns of perceiving and relating to other people and events (personality traits). That is, people tend to cope with stresses in an individual but consistent way."

From the Merck Manual's Personality Disorders page

I haven't stopped taking medication, yet. In fact, night before last I took a Klonopin (my last), a Rozerem, and a Seroquel. Last night I simply took 2 Seroquel. Thing is, to get to the point where I'm able to get myself to sleep and handle my life without a sleeping pill, I'm going to have to make a couple of life-style adjustments that I haven't made yet. And it would probably help to go into it having gotten caught up on my sleep, instead of being behind on it. But I'm looking forward to the day I stop taking Seroquel (or anything, for that matter). I'm looking forward to it almost as much as I'm dreading it...

Because, in fact, there are behaviors that I've never changed. Medication has helped me get through my days and nights without any huge bumps in the road - I'm relatively demotivated on medication and so I tend to let a lot of things slide that I wouldn't otherwise. In part because of this there are important lifestyle changes I haven't attended to. Not to mention emotional baggage I've yet to sort through, despite years and years of supportive therapy.

In fact, I would probably just stay on my drugs except for one thing: my health. My cholesterol. My weight. My prolactin level. My breasts. My blood sugar. My belly fat. All directly attributable to the medication I take to keep myself demotivated so that I do not, in fact, have to learn how to live with the bigger emotions (want, impatience, irritation, anger - even happiness).

And here's my biggest fear: what if I am unable to learn how to handle my bigger emotions (which I don't feel much on medication) through therapy? What kind of damage might occur while I'm trying to learn how to cope? And how much have I learned about coping since I started taking medication - am I smarter than I used to be?

And what if my perception is so skewed - skewed in some kind of biological way that I can't detect on my own - that I absolutely must take medication to maintain myself? What kind of medication will I be able to take that won't cause these other health problems?

In thinking about all of this I recalled a psychological assessment I had done in 2002. The assessment was extreme in every respect and, to be honest, nobody who read it (including my psychiatrist) agreed with it. It hurt my feelings, and I tried not to dwell on it. Me, narcissistic? Me, masochistic? Me, unable to see the difference between my own creative and disturbed imaginings and reality? Me, distrustful of everyone?

And yet... and yet something about it struck home, too.

Somewhere along the way I lost track of my copy of the assessment. I'm heading over to pick up another copy of it from the doctor who performed it in about 30 minutes. From there I will head to one of my favorite watering holes to drink a beer in the sunshine and review the results of a test that was taken a little over 5 years ago. What hits home now? What are the most potentially dangerous aspects of the assessment?

What should I work on first, and who should I trust to work on it with me?

What next?

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