Well, it’s been two weeks since I stopped the abilify, and I’m feeling great. All the side effects are gone, and I feel so normal for the first time in a long, long time. Also found out I’ve lost 35lbs since July, so that’s awesome too.
I feel a lot better today. I am still not certain if I should trust my perception, but it’s the first day in months that time has moved with anything like normalcy, and the suicidal thoughts have been minimal. I believe I was correct that the abilify is what is causing my problems, and now that it is leaving my system I am starting to feel better. We’ll have to see what the future holds, but today I have hope.
A bit more than a year ago my nurse practitioner put me on wellbutrin. I was doing well enough, but after a time she also suggested abilify as well, and I said yes. I wish I hadn’t. I can’t guarantee the hell I’m currently experiencing is because of the abilify, but I have a solid suspicion that I’m correct, especially after talking to friends who have taken it, too.
I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin most of the time, time drags, I’m constantly restless and I’ve got suicidal thoughts I haven’t had in many, many years, since I was at the deepest of my depression in my late teens and early 20s. I have an appointment with my nurse practitioner coming up soon, but I’ve discontinued the abilify cold turkey, because I need to make a change, I need to. So far it’s going well enough, the side effects haven’t gotten any worse and they seem to possibly be slightly better, but I don’t know how much I can trust my perceptions. It doesn’t help that I injured my shoulder somehow and it’s taking weeks to get better.
Anyway, I’m a mess at the moment, but I’m taking everything day by day and I refuse to give up and let the depression or the drugs win.
Well, I’ve decided to bail on my DBT group.
At one point in my life, I qualified for a diagnosis of borderline personality disorder, but I no longer do. This isn’t just my opinion, I have it from a psychiatrist. So, I went into the group thinking maybe I’d get something out of it, but I’m just not. I don’t have the problems they’re addressing, and I’m just wasting my time and theirs.
I shouldn’t have said yes in the first place, but I’m bad on the spot, and my anxiety kicks in, and I say yes to get it over with. Anxiety is something I do still have a problem with, but I’m hoping to find a good group for that, since one-on-one therapy is apparently not an option.
Well, it’s five days after the procedure and I’m still recovering. The pain isn’t really worse than a period, but I’m used to cramping for two days, not five. Right now I’ve got a headache and depression, but I can’t tell if either of those are related, since I’ve got depression anyway. Called out sick from my DBT group – I feel bad, it’s only my second session, but I’m just not up for it today. Looking forward to this all being over.
So, today was the big day. Found out I was pregnant on July 13th and it’s taken me this long to be able to get the abortion. Two ultrasounds, blood work, pee tests, all that great stuff. Learned that only one doctor in my city performs abortions, and only at the hospital in the next city over, so Canada’s laws might be some of the most favorable in the world when it comes to accessing abortion, but that doesn’t always make it easy to access.
Woke up at 6:30, had to be at the hospital for 8:45 for a 10:45 surgery. Had a brief moment in the cab on the way there where I thought I would burst into tears (not because of what was about to happen, but because of the realization that the last three times I’d been to that specific hospital my grandfather had died, my mother had died, and I’d had a miscarriage), but I got myself together and avoided the embarrassment. Got checked in, the wait was long and boring, but not as long and boring as waiting a month and a half since the day I found out, heh. On the plus side, I learned I’ve lost 12lbs since my last weighing. As usual, the nurse had trouble with the IV, and after what felt like a beating and five minutes of pumping my fist, she finally got the IV in. I think I’ve lost track of the amount of times I’ve been told by a medical professional that I have “bad veins”.
They wheeled me to the OR around 10:45 and did the usual surgery checks. I got a general anesthetic, for which I was grateful, as I didn’t really want to be awake for the procedure. With my anxiety, I expected I’d fight the anesthetic, but I only remember three deep breaths before waking up 30 minutes later in OR recovery. 15 minutes later they took me to recover on the ward where I was rejoined by my husband. Got some pills for the pain and some pills to prevent infection, and was discharged just after 12:30.
So I’m home now, and reflecting on everything. I feel lighter now, the invisible weight I was carrying on my shoulders is gone. Looking back, I’ve only cried once during this entire ordeal, and that briefly, and I don’t really expect to cry now. I can’t say there isn’t part of me that’s sad, and wishes things could have been different. A third child probably would have been nice, but we’re not prepared financially, we’re not prepared mentally, and this is the reason I had a tubal ligation in the first place. Mostly I just feel relieved, because it’s over and I can move on. A lot of people helped me through this time and I thank them all and give them my love.
I’ve always been pro-choice, and I am so, so glad that this procedure is legal and safe, and that it was an option for me. But I hope I never have to go through it again.
I am an extremely private person, and I debated whether or not I should even post this. My mind is made up; it was made up long before this, when it was only a hypothetical, something I never thought would actually happen. Who expects their tubal ligation to fail? I knew the stats, I knew the risks, but I still never thought it would happen to me. Heh. I never thought I’d have to say those words: “I never thought it would happen to me”. Other people say that.
I can’t keep this baby. My husband and I discussed it dozens of times over the years. We don’t have the money. We don’t have the patience. We just don’t have enough of anything. Our family is perfect the way it is. We’d be irresponsible to have a third child, and it’s true, we would be. For us, it’s just the wrong choice.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to think about this. I’m not sure what I feel about this. Mostly I feel numb, just busying myself with anything I can to keep my mind off of it until I can get to the doctor. Sometimes I laugh, because it’s just so bizarre. I’m pregnant? I keep checking the test as if it will change this time. Sometimes I’m sad, because this is harder than I thought it would be when it was just a hypothetical. Part of me wishes things could be different. I don’t have any ethical qualms about my decision, that isn’t bothering me, and I don’t expect it to once the procedure is done. I just wish… what do I wish? I don’t know. I just wish, just a little bit, that things could be different, even though I had a tubal ligation in the first place because I know I’m done with having kids. I know. So why is this harder, now that it’s real?
Friends told me it’s ok to grieve. I’m not there yet, it’s real but it’s still not real. It’ll be real when I see the doctor, maybe. When I schedule the appointment, maybe it’ll all be real then. Right now I’m still numb, there’s no laughter, there are no tears, there’s just me sitting here in front of my keyboard trying to distract myself. It’s not working.
I haven’t written anything new in a long, long time. It isn’t writer’s block, I could overcome that. It’s depression. It’s no motivation and my brain fogging up any time I sit down in front of a word processor, or attempting to do anything of consequence, frankly. It’s anything I think of seeming dead and lifeless and wholly uninteresting. Fuck depression, man. Just, seriously.