Depression Support Group
Depression is a real and debilitating condition that is often misunderstood by family and friends. Its meaning can range from a prolonged period of sadness to an actual mental illness with specific symptoms. Find and share experiences with others who are going through the same struggles.
I didn't get any sleep last night. At all. I was working on a paper all night and I ended up taking Provigil (Modafinil), a drug that a previous psychiatrist provided for ADD, to help me focus. FYI, Modafinil's intended purpose is to combat narcolepsy. So I'm plugging away at this paper and the effects of the provigil seem to begin to wear off.
This is where I make my mistake...
I take more. Later, even more. Until I've accidentally OD'd on Modafinil. Now, before you stand up and shout it WAS accidental...no Freudian purpose to my pill-taking, only wanting to pass my class. Early that morning, I finally get the paper done.
And I notice that my heart is drumming against my ribcage like a baseball bat. Really. Really. Quickly.
I had spend the night with my parents, so I approached my mother (a former medical technician) and asked her to feel my pulse. Guess what, folks...140 bpm. Resting.
So it's off to the urgent care clinic we go...me, feeling woozy, EXTREMELY strung-out and active (I literally cannot sit still...I'm walking all over the place and talking like an auctioneer), full in the throes of a stimulant overdose.
You know that feeling you get when you drink too much coffee and you're tired, but the stimulant keeps you awake?
It was just like that...on crack.
So I'm feeling wired out and nervous, and I flit into the doctor's office like a coiled spring. I swear to God, I've never written nor moved so fast...I felt like a coke addict.
I go back into the doctor's office and they confirm it...141bpm. Tachycardia. Yee haw. Blood pressure slightly elevated, but not much.
At this point I'm flexing and unflexing every muscle in my body repeatedly just to give them as much movement as possible. I feel like a hummingbird. Or a flea.
I can barely say a full sentence, again speaking at breakneck pace, before another thought flies through my head and I let it out before the first one's finished. This leads to me fumbling around with words...and of course getting so frustrated with myself when I do, because time's a-wastin'!
The doctor takes me into the back room and gives me Atenolol (I think), a medicine that reduces blood pressure (and has a slight effect to counter anxiety...at this point I'm wound up like a jack-in-the-box). My mom is in the waiting room trying to call the prescribing psychiatrist to explain what happened. I was too strung-out to care....I was flitting about the room. My pulse was sky-high, my energy level was fueled by a slew of Modafinil...I wasn't wasting time, ladies and gents.
So finally the Atenolol begins to take effect. The energy, the "wound-up" feeling still exists, but the beating in my chest has slowed and softened. They take my blood pressure again...pulse, 104. Blood pressure: low. I'm feeling very slightly woozy from lack of O2 and very wound-up from the Modafinil. Sound fun? I didn't think so...
Finally we get to leave...the doctor tells me that the most significant portion is over and we can go home. My mom (who helped me all throughout the day...THANKS MOM!) took me back home and I walked in circles for a while, listening to an audiobook on my iPod.
Then, the psychiatrist calls. I really, really don't want to speak to him. At this point, I feel like a grade-A moron (even worse, a grade-A moron who's strung out on anti-narcolepsy pills). My mom speaks to him while I continue my circular path and hangs up.
Guess what?
The psych doesn't believe me :(.
He thinks that I had caffeine or something.
We don't even HAVE caffeine in our house. My parents are not Nazis, don't worry...we just didn't happen to have any caffeine-containing products in our house.
And ladies and gents, I don't use illegal drugs.
Perhaps the psychiatrist failed to realize the fact that I was chock-full of anti-narcoleptic (and therefore anti-sleep) drugs....and on 0 hours of snoozing time?
(NOTE--THE FOLLOWING MEDICAL SUPPOSITIONS ARE MADE BY A PERSON WHO GRADUATED FROM THE MEDICAL SCHOOL OF WIKIPEDIA. MY OPINIONS ARE, IN ALL PROBABILITY, WRONG.)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sinus_tachycardia
"Sinus tachycardia is usually a response to normal physiological situations, such as exercise and an increased sympathetic tone with increased catecholamine releasestress, fright, flight, anger. Other causes include:"
Sinus tachycardia...it results in an increased pulse when the body is put under stress.
So, I'm a college student, I'm depressed, I think I have a real case of social anxiety, I'm starting to volunteer with a presidential campaign, I'm beginning a new job, finals are coming up, I've been up all night, AND I'm filled to the brim with anti-sleep medicine keeping me awake while my lack of sleep is pulling me down...stressful enough for ya?
If anybody who actually has a clue about what they're talking about
wants to weigh in, I'd welcome it. Otherwise just be glad your day was better than mine.
This is too long to let go to waste...I'll post it in my journal too :-)
This is where I make my mistake...
I take more. Later, even more. Until I've accidentally OD'd on Modafinil. Now, before you stand up and shout it WAS accidental...no Freudian purpose to my pill-taking, only wanting to pass my class. Early that morning, I finally get the paper done.
And I notice that my heart is drumming against my ribcage like a baseball bat. Really. Really. Quickly.
I had spend the night with my parents, so I approached my mother (a former medical technician) and asked her to feel my pulse. Guess what, folks...140 bpm. Resting.
So it's off to the urgent care clinic we go...me, feeling woozy, EXTREMELY strung-out and active (I literally cannot sit still...I'm walking all over the place and talking like an auctioneer), full in the throes of a stimulant overdose.
You know that feeling you get when you drink too much coffee and you're tired, but the stimulant keeps you awake?
It was just like that...on crack.
So I'm feeling wired out and nervous, and I flit into the doctor's office like a coiled spring. I swear to God, I've never written nor moved so fast...I felt like a coke addict.
I go back into the doctor's office and they confirm it...141bpm. Tachycardia. Yee haw. Blood pressure slightly elevated, but not much.
At this point I'm flexing and unflexing every muscle in my body repeatedly just to give them as much movement as possible. I feel like a hummingbird. Or a flea.
I can barely say a full sentence, again speaking at breakneck pace, before another thought flies through my head and I let it out before the first one's finished. This leads to me fumbling around with words...and of course getting so frustrated with myself when I do, because time's a-wastin'!
The doctor takes me into the back room and gives me Atenolol (I think), a medicine that reduces blood pressure (and has a slight effect to counter anxiety...at this point I'm wound up like a jack-in-the-box). My mom is in the waiting room trying to call the prescribing psychiatrist to explain what happened. I was too strung-out to care....I was flitting about the room. My pulse was sky-high, my energy level was fueled by a slew of Modafinil...I wasn't wasting time, ladies and gents.
So finally the Atenolol begins to take effect. The energy, the "wound-up" feeling still exists, but the beating in my chest has slowed and softened. They take my blood pressure again...pulse, 104. Blood pressure: low. I'm feeling very slightly woozy from lack of O2 and very wound-up from the Modafinil. Sound fun? I didn't think so...
Finally we get to leave...the doctor tells me that the most significant portion is over and we can go home. My mom (who helped me all throughout the day...THANKS MOM!) took me back home and I walked in circles for a while, listening to an audiobook on my iPod.
Then, the psychiatrist calls. I really, really don't want to speak to him. At this point, I feel like a grade-A moron (even worse, a grade-A moron who's strung out on anti-narcolepsy pills). My mom speaks to him while I continue my circular path and hangs up.
Guess what?
The psych doesn't believe me :(.
He thinks that I had caffeine or something.
We don't even HAVE caffeine in our house. My parents are not Nazis, don't worry...we just didn't happen to have any caffeine-containing products in our house.
And ladies and gents, I don't use illegal drugs.
Perhaps the psychiatrist failed to realize the fact that I was chock-full of anti-narcoleptic (and therefore anti-sleep) drugs....and on 0 hours of snoozing time?
(NOTE--THE FOLLOWING MEDICAL SUPPOSITIONS ARE MADE BY A PERSON WHO GRADUATED FROM THE MEDICAL SCHOOL OF WIKIPEDIA. MY OPINIONS ARE, IN ALL PROBABILITY, WRONG.)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sinus_tachycardia
"Sinus tachycardia is usually a response to normal physiological situations, such as exercise and an increased sympathetic tone with increased catecholamine releasestress, fright, flight, anger. Other causes include:"
Sinus tachycardia...it results in an increased pulse when the body is put under stress.
So, I'm a college student, I'm depressed, I think I have a real case of social anxiety, I'm starting to volunteer with a presidential campaign, I'm beginning a new job, finals are coming up, I've been up all night, AND I'm filled to the brim with anti-sleep medicine keeping me awake while my lack of sleep is pulling me down...stressful enough for ya?
If anybody who actually has a clue about what they're talking about
wants to weigh in, I'd welcome it. Otherwise just be glad your day was better than mine.
This is too long to let go to waste...I'll post it in my journal too :-)
-
I have been here before, a long long time ago and now I am back.Forgive me for not just saying what I want to say,even under a triple dose of antidepressants it is still raw and seeping and I am hesitant at revealing it as at least under the bandages around my heart I don,t have to look at how raw and wounded.My child was cleaved from my heart by his own actions. my child of ten,turning eleven...
-
theatre and I are there already. I'm having a very berry tea with crackers, cheese and cherry tomatoes and she's having a joint with some beer and we're both on really comfy recliners on thick pile carpet. we need some help with the decor if anyone is around??
>If anybody who actually
>has a clue about what they're
>talking about wants to weigh in, I'd
>welcome it. Otherwise just be glad
>your day was better than mine.
This statement could be misinterpreted to come off a WHOLE lot more aggressive than I intended. I was simply saying that I would welcome posts from people in the medical profession who could confirm/deny/laugh at my theory on what happened. I would of course also welcome any and all other replies, no matter who you are or what you have to say :-). I should proofread...this whole damn ordeal isn't over and I'm still feeling pretty all-around awful, so...I beg forgiveness for my poor usage of words:-)
my doc gave me that med once and it did give me some energy, but just didn't care for it. made me a tad nervous.
i took the recommended dose, if u took that much more, of course it would wire u!!
lesson learned? :)
it isn't in the same class of drugs as other stimulants..speed, coke..etc. so it's safer.
but let's take our meds as prescribed!!! xoxox :)
It makes me nervous too.
The whole day I was fidgeting, shuffling, shifting, and shaking.
not fun.
Yep, I learned my lesson...leave the doctoring to the doctors and the pharmacy to the pharmacists :-).
Glad you're okay! ;)
Another thing - don't procrastinate the paper writing. And this is the kettle calling herself black because there was rarely a time when I did not do that as an undergrad. The more you procrastinate - the more allnighters and last minute stress you have to endure. Sounds good ideally - you just get it over with real fast - but in all actuallity, shit happens and most likely doesn't work out the way you envisioned. And not as quality as it could have been.
Also, writing papers can be a pain in the ass if you're a science or math major. I majored in chemistry, and from my point of view, I was used to instant results. You either know how to solve the problem or you're fucking clueless. Black or white. Papers are different. You can write a paper on anything and be successful - if and only if you're willing to put forth the time and planning on it. Here is where the procrastination and poor planning plays a role.
You see?
Rome wasn't built in a day, though :-(...it's tough stuff.