No magic pill

It's been awhile since I last posted and there are several reasons why, mostly because I've taken up permanent residency in my head and spend my days crying, in bed or plotting out when would be a good time to die. Sometimes I'm doing all three at once.

To others, my current condition is rather disturbing and is made all the more worse when you factor in my having spent all of last week in the hospital. My daughter and therapist finally persuaded me to go in on November 23rd and I persuaded my doctor to let me go home on the 29th. Still not sure why I agreed to go in, I knew it would be a waste of time. No one can help me find the will to continue on living. There's no magic pill for that.

I had my pdoc put me back on the MAOI I was on in 2006. Back then it made me feel the best I have in the last 10 years and I was hoping for a repeat performance, even though the results only lasted for a couple of months the first time. Unfortunately the feel good effect hasn't happened this time, probably because my depression isn't being fueled by any chemical imbalance, it's being driven by complete hopelessness. I was upfront about the hopelessness with the nurse that was doing my discharge paperwork, and while she did question whether I was really ready to go home, I simply explained that hope wasn't something I'd ever find no matter how long they kept me locked up.

Being on an MAOI right now probably isn't a good thing. I find myself crossing the line in hopes of "accidentally" inducing a fatal increase in blood pressure, a dangerous side effect when an MAOI is mixed with a whole host of foods and medications. I disregarded the warning on the Sudafed box and took it several times, but just my luck, no reaction. My pdoc kept me on Buspar despite it being on the list of forbidden meds and I've had no reaction to that either. Wonder what it'll take. I realize I'm playing Russian Roulette, but I honestly don't care any more.

My therapist finally comprehends just how thin the thread I'm hanging by is. Someone else finally understands just how beyond hopeless I feel. I guess she talked to her supervisor about my treatment plan and explained to him that I'm in no position mentally to be setting goals that require change. That there's no point in focusing on change when the basic will to live isn't even there. She managed to par my treatment down to just helping me get from one day to the next.

I honestly don't think I'm going to survive much longer and I really want to let my daughter know how terminal my condition really is, but everyone keeps advising against that. I'm trying to understand their objections, so I haven't said anything yet. I know the news would be extremely shocking for her to hear, but it would offer a chance for her prepare, to get some closure, instead of just coming home one day and suddenly being slammed with the news that her mom is dead.

I don't know. I feel as if I've finally reached the end and there's nothing left.