I dunno about you, I'd take the cats over some humans! The bond is what's important, not who/what it's with.

80 hours a week? Are you trying to run out the new ETA movements? Slow down man! Get an beer, share the sunset, walk on the beach with your partner, cattos, sniff the roses, enjoy the mushroo....aaaah zip!

Jokes aside, like most of us, we have a fair idea what's hurting us. You know what you need to do.

 

It's stupid how we just want to be regular functioning human beings but are denied the resources to be so. I hate 'blaming'/explaining/justifying myself based on a condition(s) that are manageable. They say mental issues are invisible, I respectfully disagree, because when things go sideways after all the warning sides are ignored then it becomes a brouhaha.

After reading about a hilarious incident with Ambien in another thread, I was very uncomfortably reminded about my short stint with olanzapine. Criminal? Junkie? try Joker. *imitating Trump with hand gestures* Not Noice.

Get the new Seiko SKX GMT, 3 watches in 1, so your quota for 2 months should be met. That should help!

 

If you don’t mind me asking further have you noticed significant difference psyclosobin (shoot sorry I’m spelling that wrong) my family member I got in the study is beyond the point of being able to explain in depth how it is making her feel, she also has Alzheimer’s and I got her on some experimental meds for that but those seem to be more geared to help others in the future as there is little, well actually no treatment for advanced Alzheimer’s. She just told me before she got worse she wanted to be open for any experimental treatment that may help others in the future.
It’s sad there are few treatments and I just read an article about an infectious component to Alzheimer’s, not Alzheimer’s per se but some of the inflammatory illnesses that may contribute to Alzheimer’s. In the article they pointed out there is still debate amongst some of what actually causes Alzheimer’s as they find “plaque” in brains that were thought to be the cause in healthy people. But that’s me trying to make sense of medical journals which are over my head so don’t read to much into that.

I know others here are dealing with loved ones who are slipping away to Alzheimer’s it’s a very sad thing to see.

Damn that’s a bummer sorry. As far as hallucinogenics treating mental illness I’ve talked to people who both prescribe it at various clinics in the US and talked to people who tried it they are saying they got months of relief after a handful of treatments. Since it’s used off label insurance doesn’t cover it but I guess the fact it’s made available (sorry I’m talking ketamine) is a positive move. I’d like to see more be available and affordable for those who don’t respond to traditional treatments.

 

As it's still illegal here, I'm going to phrase this carefully. Everything I did was based purely based on anecdotal information, various fora, and members i interacted with at Group who shared with me their experiences. I can speak more openly about marijuana as not only is it legal here, but it's honestly a part of my culture; I'm from a hilly part of India bordering Nepal, grows abundantly there and use it for a bunch of stuff, including making tea-time fritters! Cannabis indica, hello peeps!

Self-medication is slippery slope, I stupidly used booze when I was younger. One must be careful to avoid these becoming a crutch. I vape flower/bud/weed when I can't sleep and I know it will clear out of my system and head within 6 hours once I become familiar with a strain.

I used mushrooms when things got really, really bad. Learning how booze and other substances affected me in the medium (now long) term drove me to find alternative, safer ways of MANAGING the MOMENT (people often forget, all this is transitory. Please folks, don't forget this, everything passes). My experience with mushrooms starts off like cannabis edibles: it starts slow, and builds. My mind feels like how one's body floats to the surface from the bottom of a very, very deep pool: slow at first and then then quicker but never scary, the light getting brighter till you see your reflection on the bottom surface of the water, and then you break through. Where cannabis subdue one's psyche and can make you feel like being bundled like a burrito in a heated and weighted blanket, 'shrooms feels like laying on a grassy field during a not-too-warm summer. It dissolves the noise. It brings about a different kind of peace. A stillness, a silence that doesn't terrify. Sometimes with the presence of long-missed imaginary friend. I feel safe, unencumbered, free of the daily devils that dwell in my head and heart. I don't feel irresponsible, careless, or feel like I'm invincible. Those concepts don't arise, I just end up carefree and placid in the most agreeable manner. It's not a placidity like a lobotomy, but more like wide-eyed, well-mannered, calm and composed 5 year old full of wonder staring up at the Milky Way and just soaking it all in, in quiet gratitude. It's wonderful and wonderous. The clarity the next morning is akin the ECT, minus the squeaky voice and body ache.

I never went beyond 5gms. I've had more hallucinatory issues with SNRIs than I've had with mushrooms, but I've encountered slight synaesthesia at that dose. The people I know who continue to use it have mastered the art of micro-dosing, they tell me tea works best. If I were to use it today, I would do as a kind of maintenance affair (as one develops a tolerance to it rather quickly at larger doses), once every couple of months over a long weekend having pre-ordered a couple of deep-dish Chicago styled pizzas, and plenty of fluids.

Please bear in mind that at last few uses I was completely off any and all forms of psychiatric medication and so can not speak to interactions with those compounds. I have been warned that, like LSD, one needs to be in a good headspace prior to consumption. Once I figured this out, I would make a weekend of it. Lock the door, inform your loved ones and then turn off the ringer, take a bath (yes, 'stew in your filth' as Mum would say), shave, get the room temperature just right, draw the blinds, rub one out, put on soothing music of choice, a lil cannabis vape to kick-start the session and then ingest your desired dose. Sometimes I would lucid dream, fall asleep, and let the 'magic' do its thing; sometimes I'd pick up Bertrand Russell and scribble my notes (mainly Kant is an idiot), most times I'd just lay there and meditate. (Carefully avoiding the temptation of watch shopping or silly threads on OF under the influence about love-making or GMT rants ). I have also asked a trusted friend to stay sober during my evening and record my activities and voiced-out thoughts and guide be back if I was spiralling off. And i would do the same for her; Virgil and Dante as it were.

I've never had a bad 'trip' because I've come to realise that whilst we have our conditions, managing our environment is crucial to managing said conditions, which is why I'm explaining all this. Moving back west, I see a disturbing pill-popping attitude; the expectation of quick results and relief. I've found a more holistic approach more effective.

I'm not a New Age sort of fellow, you won't find me watching 'Ancient Aliens', donning rainbow beads, crystals, incense, homeopathy, and the like. I go with what works. My only clause is that so long as my actions or inactions are not detrimental to anyone else to a reasonable degree, I'll avail of it and do what I have to do. Kudos to you for helping her out, I hope this has been of help. A couple of years ago there was this show called Hamilton's Pharmacopeia, may be worth a watch!

 

Don’t know if this will be helpful to anyone, but here goes…

Therapy. Mmm yeah, my parents realized I was fucked up when I was in my early teens, although none of us realized just how bad I really was and would continue to be. CBT, DBT, EMDR, psychodynamic therapy, group therapy, holistic therapy, grief counseling…still trying.

Medication. SSRI, SNRI, antipsychotics, atypical antipsychotics, tricyclic, tetracyclic, aminoketone class (Wellbutrin), benzodiazepines, on label, off-label, I’m sure I’ve missed a few. More often than not the side effects were worse that the illness itself. Nothing has helped the depression. Xanax is great for the anxiety, but one needs to tread very lightly there. It's been hard enough trying to move from one failed med to the next over the years, still trying to get off Cymbalta.

Hmm, what’s next? TMS, Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation, nothing, no help, depression didn’t budge. Found a great psychiatrist though.

IOP. Three months in an intensive outpatient program at a psychiatric hospital, nothing, no help, depression didn’t budge.

Ketamine. Seven infusions, nothing, no help, depression didn’t budge. Expensive out of pocket cost not sustainable anyway, great trip though. Actually made me feel more depressed because it was just one more failed attempt at finding some relief. Discussed Spravato (nasal ketamine) with my psychiatrist, but since the infusions did nothing, seemed to be no point to pursuing it even though I may have had a chance of having the ridiculous cost covered.

Micro-dosing psilocybin. Nothing, no help, depression/anxiety didn’t budge.

They don’t call it Treatment Resistant Depression for nothing!

ECT. The big scary one, electroconvulsive therapy. I resisted this for years until it got so bad the end of last year that I thought I might actually hurt myself. This is the first and thus far the only thing to bring even a modicum of relief from the depression. It’s not much but it’s something and has probably kept me from offing myself, especially considering the other horrible shit going in my life right now. However, it's had and continues to have the pretty ugly side effect of memory loss issues, although I’m not entirely sure I want to remember most of this anyway. We’ve settled on every three weeks as a fairly workable tradeoff between the memory issues and the depression getting unbearable. Monday will be my thirtieth round since March.

Still here…

 

Be careful with this, the memory loss is a double-edged sword. People I've opened up to about this ask me if it's like the 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind', and in some ways it can be; you know this now I'm sure.

I spent 4 years in Pune doing my undergrad. Found a decent set of friends and we started our own little marketing and public relations gig, met someone and got engaged, did well at Uni, and as things were coming along swimmingly; my issues began to recede to a point where it was manageable with minimal meds and effort.

Then the riots happened and I lost a roommate to a molotov cocktail, another to a bike accident, fiance cheated with my best friend so lost them both, got into a serious bike accident myself, the business started to fail due to the global recession(s) from '08-'12, a business partner and close friend committed suicide. I found him and was subsequently jailed for a bit as the Indian cops attributed it to the failing business and that fact that I was owed money. There's more..ugh.

I'm telling you this because the ECT helped 'fade' most of these into the background. Whatever I could recall felt like magazine snippets, in that they were fact with no emotion, just information in my head. Coupled with therapies and a general desire to 'look ahead' I was able to trudge on, but the trauma lay buried deep beneath the surface. Years later, my spiritually-minded mother developed sarcoidosis and despite our differences and my better judgement, I moved back to Dubai (where she was working at the time) to care for her so that my sister could focus at Uni back in England. Mum wanted to visit a temple in Shirdi and I had to accompany her, we had to fly into Pune to do so before driving over. 'Piece of piss' I thought, 'I'm better and well-equipped now,' I thought.

I was wrong.

People are scared of ghosts and poltergeists and what have you. Walking down those streets, smelling familiar smells, similar sights brought most of it back. Vividly. Those are the real ghosts that haunt. Have you ever belly-flopped into a pool from a 5m diving board? It felt like that: wind knocked out of you in an instant, mind paralyzed, body both frozen numb but electric with pain. Almost 20 years of practice developing a facade, cracked. In a moment, most of the progress I made went right out the window because I regressed right back to 2009, in the bathroom under running water in a foetal position.

Atleast that's how it was for me. I tell you this so you make the most of the ECT. Be mindful that those neurons can re-form/re-connect. You've been through a lot and there is no magic potion cure, I hope to alert you of this pitfall. Be mindful of what triggers you, and manage it. If you're like me, thoughts run faster than lightening and once my mind starts down a path... One can't hope to escape the demons if one is in Hell, gotta move out! As mentioned earlier, managing the environs is a large part of it.

Fiance 2 happened in Dubai, and met with a similar betrayal coupled with some physical abuse from her end. This time though, no ECT but walking down old neighbourhoods there, dining in my fav spots etc brought back her ghost. This time, like Mithridates, I embraced the poison slowly hoping to develop an immunity because I can't keep running everytime something bad happens, can I? It was largely successful, but only because I learned from past experience.

A wise man not only learns from the mistakes he makes, but those of others as well.

Looking back ECT had helped at that time, today I've developed a bit of a tool-kit. I do need help from time to time, but I'm wiser now that I'm aware of their limitations. Sure ECT may have its limitations, try and play to its strengths. Oh, if you're a creative person, continue practicing your art whatever it is, don't let that fade away. Whatever brings you joy, do it, re-invent or discover something new, distil it.

We will see you Tuesday (or whenever you're comfortable), fellow WIS. For everyone else, don't sell your favourite watch to fund an engagement ring; I miss my SpeedyPro Moonphase more than I do her!

 

No worries, I guess you don’t know me well enough to know when I’m being facetious, thanks for the concern though.

 

Hopefully you are speaking of one in the same? That is usually very effective as far as talk therapy if one can swing the cost.

 

I don't understand or follow much of the medical but I do know that, Norman, you are an important piece of the world (my world) that we need to secure and express how valuable you are to us.
I can't speak medical, just heart.

 

Wow, thank you for sharing this. I didn't read through the entire thread, but read enough to know this is an issue that deserves to be front and center. Living in this day and age certainly exacerbates these conditions.
My mother has suffered depression for many years but has refused and continues to refuse treatment. I often wonder if I do as well but not to a degree that I feel I need outside help.

However, my 14-year-old daughter started having a mental crisis a couple of years ago that stemmed from bullying at school. We had her undergo a therapy treatment with a mental health professional and it was the best thing we could have done. She is a completely different person now and has developed into a self-confident, assertive young lady.

At the time, the therapist told us we took her in just in the nick of time, because as she continued to develop, some symptoms could have become irreversible. The saddest thing is that for part of her diagnosis and therapy, the psychologist sent a questionnaire to all of her school teachers. Out of the half-dozen of them, only one replied to the questionnaire, despite my repeated requests for their input. Then the school systems wonder why behavioral problems are rampant in schools.

This has been quite a learning experience for me and I now know how to identify certain cues so I can talk to my daughter right away to curb depressive ideations asap. And the things she shares with me about what goes on with kids these days has certainly left me flabbergasted.

 

Thanks for sharing this. Our daughter, who is a healthy young woman about to graduate from college, also benefited from therapy in High School. She was becoming morose and withdrawn, which she attributed to stress.

Without going into more details, it was difficult as a parent to both recognize that this was more than teenage angst, as well as to acknowledge that she should see a psychiatrist. It was the best thing we could have done. She was able to have candid conversations with the counselor that she couldn't have with us.

It's difficult to give another person control over the well-being and development of your child, particularly when you know they are suffering. For us, it was the right thing to do and fortunately, effective.

Don't immediately discount psychiatric assistance if you are a parent of a child who is having struggles. It might not be needed, but it could help.

 

I completely empathize with you. It's a hard hit to one's ego to digest the fact that our child confides in a stranger more than their parents. Then there's the uncertainty of what kind of "ideas" they might be putting in our child's head. But that's nothing compared to the feeling of helplessness when we realize our child is suffering.

After I got over my own insecurities and self-centeredness, I am now eternally grateful to her psychologist for the life-changing, positive influence she had on her.

 

I started therapy when I was 12, my parents were going through a divorce, I had a strained relationship with my workaholic father (mother was also a workaholic- we were latchkey kids but she felt more available), I was a sensitive kid, I had checked out emotionally and started checking out in school as well. Back then, talk therapy was in its infancy, still heavily rooted in analysis based on Freudian & Jungian therapies- we didn’t have the tools to cope like they have today.

It was helpful giving me some guidance on how to navigate the familial relationships that were strained, it helped me understand that everyone in the house (parents and siblings) despite a shared experience, were each dealing with it differently. The relationship with my younger brother (10 at the time) had become fraught not because he was an asshole, but because he was looking to me for guidance on how to navigate an increasingly complicated life and I wasn’t available to him.

As a child, it was immensely helpful to have a trained thrird party help me walk through what I was feeling and how to navigate it. I was clearly aware that I had someone who was there to listen to me and wouldn’t be distracted or preoccupied with their own shit- they were there for me. Even though they were paid to be, I felt heard and seen which was so important.

 

so sorry that you have to bear this burden for the rest of your life....hopefully, medical research will advance
to the point where you can get a great amount of relief or cure.

 

I thought since I’m bored as hell I’d give you a mini tour of a homeless shelter. It’s a converted church built in the early 1800’s and I am on “guard duty” today responding to OD’s and breaking up fights but tbh since I’m at the desk everyone chill and I’m able to do some sessions off to the side. This is one area the building has been added to over the years. I won’t go into my usual job duties but when I have to fill in and work directly with the guys I don’t mind as although I hear and see lots of sad things many of these guys are resilient and I just helped a guy get his own place for the first time in 50 years. The food is also pretty good we had lasagna, garlic bread, salad and cookies for lunch. Getting people to accept mental health treatment is tricky. A lot of these guys mistrust anyone the view as an authority figure as they have been living off the grid (literally got guys that lived in tents in the woods for years) and are only entering places like this cause their bodies are breaking down. Well anyway I could go on about a bunch of that stuff but next time you pass by or step over a homeless dude just be aware they may have some amazing stories to tell. Not that’s it’s the common but former Doctors, pilots and finance guys fill these beds, it’s not like it can’t happen to me. Well it did years ago but I had a car to live in and fortunately it didn’t last long. Hope you don’t mind I added pics of some of the stained glass windows as to me they are art. Edit had to come down to get coffee so took a pic of where medical care is provided weekly by a nearby hospital very nice of them.

 

Bless you, Walrus, truly God's work there in a homeless shelter.

If you wouldn't mind, can you comment on the kinds of health conditions you run into, and how you deal with them. I don't mean substance abuse(although I'm sure that's quite common) but the real world health issues that may be unique to living on the street. Thanks.

 

Shit wryfox that is one of the hardest things for me. Right now I’m dealing with a guy who has 4th stage renal failure another with cerebral palsy another with melanoma and another with HIV and I have one with this weird digestive blockage which when flailing up completely prevents the person from eating. I actually had to argue with the renal failure guy to walk over to the hospital as I took his BP both the top and bottom numbers were off the chart. We got there the doc asked me how he is still alive.

But to clear the record I am not special or blessed or any other term that may make me sound good I just like working with people and I’m trying to do something positive after being a prick for a long time.

I didn’t talk about it at the time but last year I had two people I worked with pass away within a couple months and it put me in a bad spot. Although I’ve dealt with it in the past it just rocked me. Gave me greater appreciation for nurses and doctors etc as if I dealt with that weekly no way I could do this.

 

Sorry that got to serious I need to hear jerry sing about a homeless guy I don’t want the attention

 

Today would have been my sister's 55th birthday. She was born in 1968.

I can not remember the date she died or even the year. I was in High school at the time. she and my remaining brother were never close with nearly 10 years in between. I think she was about 7 or so and died of leukemia.

I can however remember the day Brother died. May 13, 1967. Yes the same day of the year. Sort of a milestone marker. A mix of the happiest of days along with the worst day.

Westley was only about three. There was a brother between Andy, who also died of cancer. It seemed like these events were months or years apart. They were only weeks apart. I was around 6 years old or so at the time. Westly was a toddler and was hit and crushed by a car at sundown. We were still grieving for Andy who had died before his birthday in March. I was pulled out of the last few weeks of school (For years I blamed my inability to tell time from a clock dial on this.)

Curiously My parents are still alive. My dad just had his 91st birthday. My mother in her late 80s. Both are fairly active, although my dad has had some issues recently several falls and is starting to need constant care. Difficult for an active person. It will be even more difficult when he goes.

What will I do when they are no longer around for me to care for? What if I have another 20 to thirty years of declining health? I have not really worked in 20 years. I moved back in after my dad had a heart attack. Sort of as an insurance policy. At the time he was around the age I am now. This has given me time to do mostly what I want to work with pipe organs. Curiously until this last year I did not do much with watches which was a hobby I had when I did work.

When my brothers died. We took a cross county trip and saw a lot of family. None of these folk are around anymore. I used to spend a lot of time with my Aunt. Who is Dad's older sister. She is now 98. Her daughter died at 58 or so. So my aunt had to go into care homes. My cousin was born on May 14th. I helped out a bit with my aunt after that before she had to go into a home. I was able to work private security. Now it is a 30 to 70 mile drive to do this sort of work.

I suspect I have had bouts of depression over the years. Most of what treatments has been short term. So much of this is statistically based. Which works really well for trauma injuries what happens on the battlefield. Where there are large data sets to pull from. Short term triage may work well -- in the short term. Long term treatments seem to get bogged down into the protestant work ethic. Or the Devil finds mischief for idle hands to do.

Curiously the tragedies of my youth lead to my interests in computers and future tech. We visited the 1967 Montreal exposition. I remember someone telling me that they envied me because I would likely see the next Millennium. I remember the promises of SST transport. Video phones and possible trips to the Moon. Or at least a giant wagon wheel space station. (Not the Rube Goldburg/Heath Robinson tin cans of today.) I suspect my wanting a moon watch in the early 1990s was an effect of this. I did have toy spaceships, and still have my moon (piggybank) I recently got a toy computer like the one I had.

What really made the difference was email, Usenet and BBSes. I suspect that is what I really turned to to find others who shared common interests. It is possible I was one of the first lurkers. I would attend trade shows and SF conferences. Not to mention the Sherlock Holmes societies and costume stuff such as the Art Deco society as well as the ren fairs.

At first these were physical newsletters magazines and mail drops. Some evolved into the early social networks. Where one could learn it was OK to be depressed from time to time. Byte magazine sponsored one called the Byte information exchange or Bix. It had something called the Writers Sleazy bar. Compile with virtual potted ferns. Where the SF writers would hang out. They knew I was reading it because they would refer to me as lurking behind the virtual fern.

Modern social media is not the same. There are too many shouting to the wind.

As for my siblings that died. It is not that they died. It is that they lived. Today IS my sister 55th birthday. Even if there is no one to share it with. (Reminders can be hard for my parents especially when they are confronted with their own mortality.)

 

I was at the gym the other day, and a guy I knew there was looking particularly down. When I asked him what was wrong, he said his brother was very sick, struggling with dementia. Then he said, “ You know, Bob, I really think grief is cumulative.”

Unfortunately, I believe he’s right. It gets tougher to hear these sad stories as we age, because we don’t forget them.

So sorry you had to experience those losses in your life. Brave of you to post that. Thanks.