May 3, 2020 § Leave a comment
The scary heartbeat skipping that I’d mentioned a few days back is much much less today. By trial and error I figured out the culprit was Clonazepam, or rather my attempt at tapering it off and the skipped heartbeats were a withdrawal symptom. The day before yesterday, I went back to the dosage my GP had prescribed and today things are much better.
The doctor had said to me once that what I’m taking is a baby dose, but given that I’ve been taking it for close to two years now, I’ve become dependent on it. At least I don’t feel the craving to up the dosage. Running and meditation and breathing helps.
The running isn’t intense. It’s pretty modest for now and in the lockdown, it’s often restricted to jogging back and forth in my living room. But even so, I still do it. Certainly enough to work up a good sweat, so it isn’t a waste.
A friend introduced me to a pranayama instructor and today I had my first session. Hopefully, I’ll get to a point where the combination of meditation and pranayama, and running, will really make a difference and I can take another shot at tapering off the meds.
#anxiety #depression #anxietyanddepression #clonazepam
April 28, 2020 § Leave a comment
The lockdown continues in India. Expected to end on May 3, but there are reports it may be extended, as cases are still rising.
My heart’s been skipping beats every minute for the last three days. I’m scared, but don’t know what to do during the lockdown. It started after we ordered chinese food three days back and one of the sauces was loaded with MSG I think. That must have triggered the skipped beats, but because I have severe anxiety, it’s not stopping now.
Over two years ago, after my first massive anxiety attack, I had my heart checked out and doctors had given me a clean bill of health — heart in good shape, no blocks etc. I’m still able to keep up my running, so that’s another affirmative factor. For some time I tried to run in our living room, but today I went back to the basement of our apartment building. The basement at least gives me a clear stretch of 35 metres one way.
The skipped beats have lasted almost every waking hour during the last three days. And my anxiety medications are running out and the lockdown means getting more isn’t easy. It will get worse if the lockdown is extended. Still I must be grateful to be in the socioeconomic strata in which people have luxuries like getting Chinese takeaway delivered and blogging on WordPress.
We even had mangoes delivered today. And we fought.
Our 11-year old son told me I couldn’t touch his phone charger without asking him, and that whether he was using it at a given moment wasn’t relevant. I said stuff back and went to the basement to run. Came back to have my wife tell me how wrong I was. It even led to her recalling what a coward I was once when my sister’s son almost strangled our son and I never said anything to my sister about it. My sister hasn’t ever apologised for what happened either. Yes the lockdown is great for bitter fights. And the terror of skipped heartbeats.
#lockdown #coronavirus #anxiety #depression
November 30, 2019 § Leave a comment
‘I don’t need your help. Those are your issues, you deal with them.’ she said. She has a dinner to go to at an out-of-the-way place from where later on in the night she won’t get a cab or an autorickshaw back. That is my fear anyway and that’s what the reference to ‘your issues’ is about. That I want to control the situation by organising a cab from someone we know and whose cab service we trust and use regularly. That I want to control the situation because of my anxieties and fears and not really out of any caring for her.
Probably sounded like a movie dialogue when I told her she didn’t have to do it for me but for our son — ensuring her own safety I mean — but ‘don’t give me that son business, what were you doing last year’ was the response. Last year I was in a deep funk, depressed, fueled by a terrible health anxiety and lots of other old demons.
On the way back from Frozen 2, we’d stopped at a bakery where she’d wanted to pick up some cake. I was trying to turn the car around and the right side rear wheel went into a ditch I’d missed. I told her I’ll have to figure out how to get it out, and she disappeared into the next shop to check out some make up.
She’d assumed I wouldn’t want her standing there and watching me sweat it. I’d been thinking she would stay and try to help or at least stay as moral support. Somewhere along the way the cake, in a box, and a packet of cutlets had landed in my hands and I angrily chucked em on to the back seats. The cake got crushed. We had a fight.
The wheel got extricated easily enough, but now she’ll go on her own and I’ll worry until she’s back safe. She drank the tea I made, though. Didn’t mean anything.
April 23, 2019 § Leave a comment
Harmony doesn’t last, an illusion it is
Chaos feels real and inevitable
Civilisation, a fight to suppress our natures
But for the human condition called hope
A chimera distracting us from the reality of painful futures
I overslept that morning, and that’s all it took. She’d waited for me to order breakfast, but I’d slept on and then it was too late. It was election day and others had had the same idea and therefore delivery would have taken close to an hour. And she was already famished, having woken up at 5 a.m.
It was 8:45 a.m. and there was our boy’s theatre class starting at 10 a.m. An egg was hastily scrambled by her for him. A dosa was poured out by me for her real fast. The previous day’s curry would have to stretch, be just enough. But she would have none of me, so I ate the dosa and she was still empty stomached.
I felt like an egregious fool, caught up in my own anxities and depression. My OCD about my two bananas and two cups of coffee — one before, and one after what I call my run.
We got him to theatre class on time. Then she refused the car ride and took an auto to a canteen nearby, I don’t know what she ate. She came back anger gone and we were back to being wife and husband of almost two decades.
#anxiety #depression #anotherday