The Addison’s Chronicles – Part 7…

Depression and Hydrocortisone.

Hydro is, without a doubt, the major current cause of my depression – depression so shatteringly severe it feels positively dangerous.

I’m not normally depressed, but I am prone to

Christmas is cancelled…

I’ve thought long and hard about publishing this, as some people will inevitably take it the wrong way.

But, sod it, that’s their problem…

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It seems that, this year, people who are depressed, dismayed, or financially overwhelmed by the prospect of Christmas – often all three and, it appears,  unsurprisingly, more so than in previous years – are venting their feelings online. So I thought I’d add my contribution – avoid Christmas if you can.

I do realise that if you have a family that’s well nigh impossible, but for many of us who, like me, have no family, and live alone, it can work very well. It can also be, as in my case and doubtless that of many other people, essential for

On depression, food, and how the end of the world is NOT coming!

On Twitter, @ME_forME, who describes herself as “Just a girl raising awareness for the neuro-immune disease Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME)”, posed the question “ME patients…wondering what your plans are for Christmas. Will you be able to join in and if not how does that make you feel?”.

To which I responded, as I’ve said here, that I’d cancelled Christmas some years ago, and as a result remain stress-free. That, for the most part, is perfectly true, but the human organism is nothing if not perverse, and the depression that has laid waste to far too many Christmases in the past 20-odd years – leading to its cancellation – seems to have decided to sneak up and bite me in the arse again this year. Doubtless because

Follow-up to My life is FUBAR – a small, but vital, improvement…

I wrote about how grim things had become yesterday, and that I was in the grip of seriously worrying depression. Well, I’m happy to report that things have improved somewhat.

Oh, I’m still depressed, but the pull of my suicide kit, from its hiding place, has weakened a hell of a lot.

I have a suicide kit because, the way my health is going, there will come a point, maybe sooner rather than later, when I will become a burden to myself and/or to others. At that point I’m stepping out. I’ve already written about that before, at length, and I’m not going to do so now – just setting the scene, as it were.

I’ve managed to come to terms – to a

My life is FUBAR…

And I have no real idea why.

There is, though, something very weird going on in my life right now, way beyond even the normal vagaries of the usual suspects (ME/CFS, COPD, OA, aortic valve calcification and heart failure are the biggies). At the risk of being accused of melodrama, even waking up in the mornings has come as a surprise the past few days –I am, quite seriously, not expecting to. Not that I’d know if I didn’t, of course!

Last Monday I was extremely ill, and profoundly, almost suicidally, depressed – no, that’s not hyperbole. So bad that I was forced to cancel a cardiology appointment I’d waited 8 months for (still waiting for a new appointment, which they’ve promised to send ASAP, after I pointed out I might not have another 8 months).

Yet, on the Tuesday, I felt

No sleep, meds over-dose, life sucks…

Over 10 days now almost totally without sleep – nothing before 04.00, awake again at 06.00 to take my first meds of the day, maybe doze fitfully til 08.00 or  09.00 if the pillocks upstairs are quiet. That’s it.

And I’m starting to come unravelled, physically and mentally – I’m apathetic, lethargic, it’s hard to think (it’s taken me all day to type this), and I’m getting profoundly depressed. Something has to change, and soon.

Last night, I planned to do what I’ve been avoiding – drink myself into a decent night’s sleep. A good idea, though not a long-term solution, until I screwed up.

I take my late-night meds around 23.15. Last night, around midnight, I realised

Where is my respite – from me?

It occurred to me, talking to someone on Twitter, that carers can get respite breaks, so that they can get away from their charges for a while. Fair enough, no doubt many of them thoroughly deserve – and need – a break, but what of the rest of us? Where is our respite from ourselves?

Like very many disabled people, I have to look after myself, take care of

#BeFrank campaign – my contribution.

So OK, then, I’m depressed.Depression is not just feeling fed up, or unhappy with your lot – it can be life-threatening.

I suffer from frequent, almost suicidal depression, and the drugs don’t work. SSRI’s*** make me cough so uncontrollably my lungs bleed, and tricyclics shut my brain down – can’t be doing with that.

**SSRIs do actually work, and kick in very quickly, but the side-effects are too severe to tolerate. Ditto tricyclics. Received wisdom is that both these drugs can take three weeks or so to kick in – in my experience it’s more like days.

Depression – serious to the point of suicide depression – is

Touching base, plumbing the depths…

There I was, minding my own business an hour or so ago, and Neil Young’s Four Strong Winds came on the radio. It just broke me up.

OK, I know why, and it’s bugger all to do with the song – that was just the trigger – but I can’t go round bursting into tears at the slightest thing, FFS!

I’ve been here before, in the weeks after my divorce, and I’m heading for

Depression in COPD…

Depression, in chronic illness like COPD is understandable. However, what a lot of people don’t know is that it can be caused by their medication. (But – whatever you do – don’t stop taking it!)

Theophylline, and its derivatives, like Aminophylline (Phyllocontin Continus), can cause vitamin B6 deficiency.

B6 helps moderate the function of