Going Off Drugs and Feeling Like Hacking People Apart: The DT System & Aggression

My shrink just took me off my 150 mg. of Wellbutrin XR about a week ago. The first day was okay. The second day was crappy. By the third day, after taking my other antidepressant, Klonopin, etc., I was a little bit more edgy than I thought I should be, and I was already feeling more depressed.

I had to drive my daughter to an outing and the traffic is horrendous where I live in the summer. This day seemed to be worse than usual with the traffic backed up way further than my wedgie!

At any rate, we made it on time with by starting extra early on our trip and I kissed her goodbye for the day.

I had to venture back toward home, or rather, wanted to, and so being the nifty local that I am, I took back roads. It's good to know most of the back roads when you live on a small man-made island that is a tourist trap and you feel foxed in.

My mind was feeling that old, familiar mind-zapping feel that I usually get when I have to discontinue a medication or start slowly weening from it. This caused me more anxiety as little electrical shocks to the brain became more frequent. This is not an activity that I chose to have done while driving or ever. Not to top it, but the traffic on the back roads was backing up here, ding dongs were driving under the speed limit, failing to yield when they should, and did not understanding that you have to pass bicyclists even on winding roads. My patience was being tested and I already have issues with major depression and anxiety.

This was not a good time to me or anyone around me. Rage was setting in.

Despite the test of strength and stability, I made it to my pharmacy. I had some questions about being taken off of my Wellbutrin!

Before I pulled into the parking lot, I let a couple cars go in and out of the parking lot, but not a soul let me into the lot. That really put a wrench up my ass. I was so freaking nice! After I pulled into my parking space and took a couple deep breaths, I got out of the car and yelled at the top of my lungs, "I HATE PEOPLE, I HATE THIS PLACE, I HATE YOU ALL!!!!" Then I calmly proceeded to walk into the pharmacy.

I spoke with my pharmacist and explained to him how I had just been taken off of my Wellbutrin and was feeling homicidal and had come from a long and anxiety provoking drive that may have produced a "tad  bit" of road rage. He told me to try to get home safely, take another Klonopin, and relax. At first he had thought I said "suicidal," but after he had realized what I had said he didn't seem as concerned. It was then that I knew that feeling homicidal must be a more normal state of mind on this tourist trap than I realized.

So, loving the place I live and hating the traffic, feeling all homicidal, head being zapped with electricity, I drove home like a maniac, and started up the leaf blower after taking 1 mg. of Klonopin. There's nothing like 230 hp worth of air coming out a tube that you can power up quickly that blows sound waves like nothing! I needed that!

Every little pile of weeds and other plant trash I had raked up earlier in the week (even the old wet piles) were being blow into oblivion while maniacal laughter followed. It was a whirling dervish of leaves, wet and soggy things no one wants to touch or smell, pine needles, dog shit most likely, and dry stuff. I was having such a great time with my twisted smile making mini-tornadoes blowing them up into the air and then across the dirt road. It was exactly what the doctor ordered. I was feeling some relief even though the zaps were still very intense.

I kept at it for over an hour.

Then, as I was making hurricanes down the road, I suddenly felt an ominous presence..... there was a car about two feet away from me. It had been sitting there directly behind me. No common sense. I was in the middle of the road with this deafening machine blasting and these people could not have warned me (one has PTSD and should not be sneaked up on) were right behind me!!! Not only that, but they were from out of state! Why didn't they beep down the road? Why didn't they give a warning??? Did they want to scare the last fuck out of me??? What the fuck was their problem? Did they know that I was feeling homicidal, yet I was calming down? How fucking stupid were they????

I looked at them and knew that my rational self disappeared completely. I had evil lurking in me. I put my gun up in the air, turned myself to the side, peered at them with menacing eyes, and let them pass. Right after their little asses got by me, I took my 230 hp worth of wind and blew shit all over their car!!! "AND STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY NEIGHBORHOOD YOU FUCKING HO BAGS... FUCK HOLES, FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING BAGS OF SHIT MUNG FUCKER FUCKS, DON'T COME BACK OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU YOU FUCKING FUCKS I'LL CHOP YOUR HEADS OFF AND BLOW THEM INTO THE WOODS FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!!," etc. Luckily, the leaf blower was on high when I was yelling all of this as they high tailed it out of my quiet (yeah right!) little dirt road neighborhood very quickly.

After this I had to restart my ritual blowing. I needed to calm down again. Those tourons probably needed to start seeing a shrink now. I could give them a business card for mine, but I didn't think I would see them again. They certainly got a blow job that day. I know, bad humor!
Later, after doing all of that work and having the insanity cut through and affect others again, I realized how truly fearful I am. The only thing that seems to make me feel less fearful when I'm going through these brain zaps and withrawal symptoms as well as triggered PTSD rages, is anger and hard work.
This frightens me. It is part of mental illness and I hate it.

My therapist told me to try to remember how the anger "feels" physiologically. Well, I feel pain in my chest and pressure. I have butterflies in my stomach. I feel shaky. My breathing feels more labored and is heavy. My heart feels like it's pounding so hard it might explode and sometimes my legs feel like they'll give out. My head feels like it's pulsating with some kind of weird energy and it changes. I still have the head zaps as I go through the withdrawal that my shrink said I would not go through and I am feeling even more edgy and depressed. I feel stronger physically.... it's got to be the adrenaline and the fight/flight thing. It hurts mentally and physically. Sometimes when I get past the flight feeling... I feel like I am the strongest animal in the world. I hate that.
Today I really didn't feel like being a part of this world. Right now I am coming to the total conclusion of what I already knew. I am NOT insane and I'm still not. I have mental illness and I'm being treated and that is my choice. I want to make my life and my daughter's better. Luckily she hasn't seen me like this and I have had lots of rages. So far the only one who has been hurt has been me.

I guess another huge conclusion that I have come to is that my family is not my support system, but my commity of critics. I get cut down constantly by them for being creative, thinking outside the box, for mothering my daughter creatively, and so on and so on.

My sister is not my best friend. I cannot tell her anything. My Mother is still trying to manipulate my daughter to tell me to do things like paint my car one color. It backfired. I removed the beautiful paintings on my car one day because my daughter finally spit out what my Mother wanted her too after my pressuring. I showed her the car without the paint after she finished a program and she cried and told me that her Mima put her up to it. She begged me to put the paintings back on our car. I have started that process.

My Sister is concerned that I'm drawing too much attention to myself with my car the way it is and that I'm doing strange things raising my daughter. She is afraid that I will have another mental breakdown or that I am crazy. Well, maybe if she lost her husband who had come back from the war and had lost her home, way of life, had to start over, had the IRS after her, was fighting another government agency as well, and trying to raise a young child without a father who had PTSD, etc., she might have a breakdown too.

But, that was awhile ago now. That's over. I'm not sure what she's talking about now. If taking walks with my daughter on the beach, educating her about nature and being responsible, taking her to recreation, signing her up for a week of Audubon, biking with her, playing with her, letting her have and go on playdates and laughing about farts, etc. is too strange, as well as taking her to the doctor's when I think she has an injury is crazy, call the staff at Cape Psyche!!!

The same goes for my Dad.... he's not sure if I'm capable of traveling to Florida with all of my agoraphobia issues, etc. I just heard this from my Sister. I told her I'd take an extra Klonopin. Then she asked me if I thought I could function being on so many drugs. All I could do is laugh and tell her that it would be under control. I let her know taht I would not enjoy being in a big crowded airport one bit, but I would do it to get my little girl to Florida to see her Grandparents. Then she asked me if I would let her down and if I was really sure I could do it. She must have asked me over 3 times! She even asked me if I could get my own car to Boston. I assured her that it would be done. She said that she was afraid that I would disappoint "her neice." I told her taht I wouldn't be doing Disney, but I would get myself and my darling daughter to Fllorida no matter what.

So, I will continue working on my PTSD workbook, keep creating new madalas and other works of art to relax, try to avoid trigger situations, see my shrink for my medicational treatment, and keep my mouth shut around family. I will raise my daughter the best I know how and love her more than anyone or anything in the world as I have since I knew she was in my womb.

So to all those assholes who can't have some tolerance for people with mental illness, disabilities, people who are trying their hardest to fit into a world that is hard and scary, who are trying to make it easier for their children, you can fuck yourselves up the asshole with barbed wire until it comes out your fucking mouths.

To the rest of you, I bid you much love and many blessings. We all walk a road marked with challenges and share many of them, yet alone. I hope that I may be of help with my ramblings or maybe help you as you stumble or cheer you on as you pick yourself back up. That's what I would like from my friends when I find them.

Until then, don't give up, try your best, and try not to be so hard on yourself because the critics are already out there..... Much love & light to you.