Well, in another installment of “I wish they’d told me that a long time ago”, it turns out that SSRI’s can contribute to hyponatremia, a potentially dangerous condition in which your body doesn’t have enough sodium to regulate the water in your cells.

It is believed that SSRI’s might contribute to at least mild hyponatremia in [...]]]>

Well, in another installment of “I wish they’d told me that a long time ago”, it turns out that SSRI’s can contribute to hyponatremia, a potentially dangerous condition in which your body doesn’t have enough sodium to regulate the water in your cells.

It is believed that SSRI’s might contribute to at least mild hyponatremia in up to 30% of patients taking these medications.   Symptoms of hyponatremia are nausea and vomiting, headache, confusion, lethargy, fatigue, appetite loss, restlessness and irritability, muscle weakness, spasms or cramps, seizures, and decreased consciousness or coma.  SSRI-related hyponatremia is more common in women and the elderly than in the general population.

Now I’m not unconscious or throwing up, but I have been having some unusual issues with my muscles lately.  I’ve been incredibly tight, and no amount of stretching seems to help.  In fact, I pulled my hamstring last weekend while gently easing into a yoga pose that is usually pretty easy for me.  Coincidentally, just last week, my doctor doubled the dosage on the SSRIs that I take.

To make a long story short, other than serious organic illness, my “lifestyle” embodies many potential causes of hyponatremia:

• I take SSRI’s, which in addition to being potentially diuretic, also make me thirsty, so I drink a lot of water.
• I’m on ADHD meds, which also cause dehydration.
• I’ve been taking a lot of asthma and decongestant medication to deal with a bad allergy season
• My diet low in sodium, because I’m a vegetarian who eats no processed foods.
• Since I’m thirsty, I consume a lot of water while exercising.
• I drink alcohol.

As for that last one, you’re supposed to be careful with booze when you’re on the meds I’m on.  I know that.  I’ve known it for years.  I’ve been naughty.  But it’s been a rough summer, and I’ve been self-medicating.  I clearly need to stop doing that.

Since hyponatremia (if that is what I have) can indicate a serious organic illness, I’m going to the doctor on Monday to make sure it all checks out.  In the meantime, I’ve spent the last couple hours drinking miso soup and coconut juice to try and restore my electrolytes.  I already feel better.  And if you’re on SSRI’s, be aware that hyponatremia is a possibility, and discuss any symptoms with your doctor.

She’s a post-doc in neuroscience, and she has posted in the past about various psychoactive medications and how they work.    She writes about the two major classes of ADHD drugs, [...]]]> I’ve been reading blogging by Scicurious (formerly of Neurotopia at Science Blogs, now at a blog called either “Neurotic Psychology” or “Scicurious”, I’m not sure which.

She’s a post-doc in neuroscience, and she has posted in the past about various psychoactive medications and how they work.    She writes about the two major classes of ADHD drugs, Amphetamine, and Methylphenidate, as well as SSRI’s.  If you’re on any of these meds you should check out her posts.

My problem has been that my [...]]]> The single suckiest thing about all my LD’s has been its impact on my work life.  I’ve spent my entire working life underemployed at retail gigs and poorly-paid part-time teaching jobs.  I have never had a job that pays decent money, let alone one that uses my skills or intelligence.

My problem has been that my learning disabilities — dyscalculia, dysgraphia, and ADHD — make it nearly impossible to qualify for entry-level admin work.  You know, those jobs where you’re supposed to keep track of who called whom, write phone numbers correctly, create the office schedule, keep the records, do the filing, and maybe even simple book-keeping … .  Those are all things I need an assistant for.  They’re all things that I would have an assistant for, if I could ever get past the entry-level jobs where I’m supposed to be the assistant.

Except that I can’t even get hired for those jobs in the first place.  Even temp agencies take a look at me and say, “don’t call us, we’ll call you”.

And now I’ve learned that even my former retail employer doesn’t want me back.

Great.

When I went on leave, my supervisor told me that I had been a great employee and I would be welcome back at any time.  I was counting on this job as a safety.  I was hoping I could at least help put food on the table as I looked for something with more earning potential.  Now I’ve had a blow to my confidence, as well as added stress, and both of those are things that mess with my ability to pay attention and follow up on all the job crap I need to deal with.  But instead, I’m just sitting here, staring at jobs postings, knowing there’s something I’m supposed to do with them if only I could get my brain to stop vibrating.

On Thursday, I have an exam for a job with the city.  The pay is good, the benefits are great, my experience is relevant.  It’s a job I know I can do.  Unfortunately the exam tests my ability to do basic arithmetic.

$#%^$&*#@!

I say this in spite of having suffered from depressive and anxiety disorders for years.  These disorders are bona fide mental illnesses, and between that and a traumatic childhood, I spent several years in therapy sorting myself out.  I have always been and always will be triggered [...]]]> I don’t consider myself to be a neurotic person.

I say this in spite of having suffered from depressive and anxiety disorders for years.  These disorders are bona fide mental illnesses, and between that and a traumatic childhood, I spent several years in therapy sorting myself out.  I have always been and always will be triggered by things that other people aren’t.  I go through periods where I am absolutely unable to watch the news, because I know it will put me in an emotional hole I won’t be able to climb out of.  I have to avoid certain situations, like shopping malls, because the crowds and the various competing stimuli induce panic.  Casinos, I once discovered on a trip to Reno, are even worse.
I don’t feel that those things make me “neurotic”.  I know that because of my brain chemistry and my background, I react to certain situations in certain ways that other people don’t.  I know emotions are simply not subject to conscious control. I have learned to control my exposure to things that I know will trigger me, and I’m much happier and healthier as a result.  I feel pretty good about that.

Last night, though, I felt neurotic.  I say “neurotic” because it was a feeling that went beyond anxiety to a weird sort of unease, and one in which I my mind was telling me things that were clearly irrational, and that I knew were irrational, but that I was unable to banish.

For various reasons, it was 3 am by the time I went to bed last night.  I was already feeling vaguely uneasy for no good reason, and the minute I went upstairs the storm that’s been buffeting California all week intensified.  The rain pounded the roof and the wind picked up.  I could hear the gutters overflowing, and I swear I heard the wind wuthering. Since my bedroom is in a loft right under the roof, this was all pretty loud, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the storm was consciously trying to get into the house. I felt as if I was the only human being in the world, and the storm resented this, and was trying to destroy my house out of vengeance and hatred for all things warm-blooded.

I got into bed, but I didn’t want to turn out the light; I got out of bed and wandered around for awhile; I went back upstairs; I got out of bed again; I felt lonely; I desperately wished my partner were home just to have another human being around.  I felt a sense of dread that I just couldn’t shake.  It was like I was channeling Edgar Allen Poe, and all his characters with their morbid imaginations and “morbidly acute” senses.  It wasn’t the anxiety that had me telling myself that I was being neurotic, it was the paranoia, the attribution of malevolent, conscious intent to something that I know is just about warm and cold air masses.

This isn’t usually like me.  I haven’t been afraid of the dark since I was a small child.  My husband travels a lot, and while I miss him, I’m never afraid to be alone. Like Mrs Whatsit in Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle In Time, “wild nights are my glory”; I usually love storms, blizzards, and all sorts of severe weather, and I’m puzzled by people who are afraid of thunder.  I grew up in the Midwest, where thunderstorms are frequent, and kids are told from the time they’re born that “thunder is just noise, it can’t hurt you”.  Likewise, you’re safe in the basement during severe weather.  You’re safe in a blizzard if you stay inside.  Unless you live in a flood zone or a trailer park, weather won’t hurt you if you take precautions and use common sense.  Weather is something I can usually handle.

I don’t know what it was about last night that had me so worked up.  Ultimately, I was extremely grateful for my cat Piglet, a sweet and compliant Maine Coon mix who’s always willing to take care of me.  I went down stairs and picked her up, carried her upstairs, and got into bed.  She stayed where I put her, purring, half on my chest and half on my arm.  When my arm fell asleep (she’s a 16.5 lb cat, after all) she shifted obligingly, staying close and purring.  My other cat, CC, came up soon afterward and settled onto my legs.  I already felt easier.  But I didn’t fall asleep until I heard a fire struck lumber past, assuring me that there was at least one other person out there, awake like me, and ready to come to my defense if the storm tried to get me.

As a result, I have now spent 45 minutes calling every pharmacy in town, looking for one that carries Vyvanse in 60 mg denominations. So far, nobody has it. And the place where I got it last [...]]]>
Since I was sick this week, I forgot to have my pharmacy order my meds ahead of time.

As a result, I have now spent 45 minutes calling every pharmacy in town, looking for one that carries Vyvanse in 60 mg denominations. So far, nobody has it. And the place where I got it last time?  Well, it’s in the Financial District, so it’s closed on Sundays.

It’s one of those days where I’m fuming about how FUCKING UNFAIR it is to have a high maintenance brain. Especially one that requires medication to remember to order my meds on time. One that gets abnormally bored and frustrated calling pharmacies for an hour trying to find one that carries the medication that helps me deal with being bored and frustrated. One that can’t handle logistics no matter how medicated it is, but needs to do a fancy logistical dance in order to plan the afternoon’s errands in such a way that I can get my goddam meds.

Oh yeah, and one that can’t deal with number sequences regardless of how medicated it is.

Gods this is fun!

“Attention” [...]]]> I’ve blogged before about the seasonal aspects of my ADD.  Unsurprisingly, things have been even worse since the return to Standard Time (ptui!) and the loss of another hour of light in the afternoon.  I’ve been more tried, more hungry, more spacey … and paradoxically, less able to get to sleep at a reasonable hour.

“Attention” is a neurological state that’s heavily dependent on dopamine, the brain’s reward chemical.  Dopamine, in turn, is heavily dependent on a number of factors, including sunlight.  Most people are aware of seasonal and weather impacts on their mood and habits, but for some people, these effects can be extreme.  I obviously fall into the second camp.

My doc and I decided to up my Vyvanse from 50 to 60 mgs.  My hope is that this will improve my concentration, attention, and ability to take initiative.  He also advised me to spend time in my art studio from 4 pm until 7 pm ever day.  If you’ve read my previous post, you’ll know that my art studio is equipped with a full-spectrum daylight bulbs.  My doc says it takes 5 or 6 “average” 150-watt bulbs to produce a therapeutic amount of light.  I already had four, and I knew my two overhead lights would put me into therapeutic territory; this was a major impetus for getting off my ass and hanging the lights.

Finally, he advised me to start taking melatonin before bed.

Today is the first day I’ve managed to be in my studio right at 4 pm.  I’ve got to admit it feels pretty good. I am noticing, however, just how hard it is for me to stay in one place for more than an hour.  My inclination is to jump up and go do something, and come back, and jump up and do something else, and come back … it’s so annoying when you have to fight ADD tendencies in order to treat ADD.

In general I’ve been sleeping better, but it does seem harder to get up in the morning.  Whether this is the melatonin or the increasing dimness of my bedroom I’m not sure.  Tomorrow will be my seventh day on the new regime.  Maybe things will settle in and get better.

I [...]]]>

Rickie Sugars is glad the study proves a link between learning disabilities and poor mental health.

I have no idea when this story ran in the Vancouver Sun, but it’s worth a look.  The Learning Disabilities Association of Canada has released a study on the long-term effects of undiagnosed learning disabilities.  The results?  Lasting psychological harm.

I can certainly attest to this.  My LD went undiagnosed until half way through my junior year of college.  By that point, I was at a top-20 liberal arts college, surrounded by people who were able to do the assignments AND the reading for all of their classes, and my self esteem was not only in the toilet but flushed into the sewers.  Since my disabilities are in areas that are the focus of most entry-level professional jobs (paperwork, scheduling, filing, and occasionally light bookkeeping as well) I essentially have no career to speak of.

As a result of this, I’ve been diagnosed with major depression and dysthymia, anxiety and panic disorder, stress-related asthma, and even a heart condition.  It’s taken my whole adult life to come to terms with this. I have had to rebuild myself from my foundations.  In short, friends, it has sucked, and it has sucked mightily.

Mad props to LDAC for taking this issue seriously, and for getting the word out.