8th September, 2016

Yesterday I struggled to sleep. I kept turning and changing sides, I had taken 0.125 of clonazepam half my normal intake. I would have fallen asleep but the thought that I had taken half the pill kept me awake and restless. I got up and took the pill and was quickly asleep. Nani was sleeping by my side, I worried for her.

When I left home I really had no idea if I would return, I wanted to kiss Nani a last wish but I didn't want to raise any doubts on Archana so left home without kissing her. What hopes or wishes have fulfilled that I should expect this wish to be fulfilled as well. I was lightheaded, not very suicidal still contemplating it. Despite not being suicidal I wondered what is the point in living. Yet strangely it was not as bad as yesterday and at one point in time I was telling myself, its life the most difficult days last a maximum of 15 days and I have to get used to it. Whatever I tell myself the fact is living is becoming more and more painful. I was not tearful, I was empty, the kind of emptiness that sucks the breath out of you, the kind of emptiness that scares you more than the face of death.

There is not much to do at work, just some testing and I don't like that. Empty at heart and empty of work, that is such a lethal combination and yet I survived this day.

When I had to go to my colleagues desk for something I used to feel a chill run down my whole body, I just wanted to leave everything and fall in ground and crumble into pieces.

At work the song on which nani had performed kept playing in my mind. Her happy, cheerful face kept taunting me throughout the day. How ephemeral is happiness, how listless the life is?

I worked till 4:00PM and hurried home. As I got into the lift I thought I will reach home late and it will worry Archana as she is aware of my thought-process and my mental state. I sent her a text saying I will be little late this evening.

I was momentarily calm almost close to happy when I reached home, then again the dark spell took me over. I hid myself in my room. Archana and nani were giggling and playing in other room. Archana usually sits by my side when I am at home and she has nothing to do, I didn't know why she chose the other room. I walked silently into the other room watched them play. They didn't notice me, I stood there watching them. This was their fate, one for each other. There won't be a loving husband and there won't be a caring father, my daughter will have to live like this, my wife will have to live like this. They have to seek happiness with each other because that is all they will be left with. I returned back to my room, more worried. I didn't have evil ideas spoiling my brain, yet I knew things won't be right and the fact remained I was as depressed as I had been.

7th September, 2016

I fell asleep on 0.125mg of clonazepam but woke up earlier than usual. Same day again, same routine and same sadness, temptation to end it for good, never ending worries etc. I thought I would come home earlier as Neil won't be in but then there is no point, it is better to remain at office as far as possible.
Neil had sent me a text message saying something needed immediate attention, I thought it shouldn't be very complex fix and in-fact it wasn't.
I was thinking about carrying my pass as I entered the office but forgot when I went to the toilet so I was locked out. I stayed outside waiting someone to come early and I could get in. I waited there impatiently, this is the third time I had locked out myself. Then I thought Nick might be at the cafe in the ground floor so I went downstairs. Luckily he was there, I borrowed his pass and entered into the office. The first thing I did was checked the email and fixed the issue.
There was no work to be done so it was going to be a troublesome day, tiring day. I was feeling very empty and sad, sadness has become a part of my personality. I was not very suicidal today yet kept contemplating on the prospect of living like the way I am living. It is not feasible, it is not possible. I do not ask god to make me free of depression I just beg him to enable me to live with it.
The universe that is almost 14 billion years old went through so many natural experiments living being came into existence some 4 billion years ago and human being came into existence mere 200,000 years ago. I just wonder if whatever that has made life possible in earth was a mere coincidence or it was a divine intervention by god. If God had created everything, does he keep track of every organism, does he know I exist among billions of lives in earth and probably in other galaxies. Would he care if I commit suicide or I lived, whether I was able to hold job or I continue as a loser. Would he care that there is one of the most beautiful girl he created through me? Or am I just a result of experiment that went wrong. Out of billions of possibility in DNA permutation and combination I could have happened to be a wrong combination. Nature selects its survivor and probably I am not the survivor that is supposed to continue. What impact will my life have in the world? Yes it does impact seven people directly: Archana, nani (my daughter), my parents, my brother and Archana's parents. Why would god care?
But what happens when we die. I am a Hindu and our scriptures suggest millions of births and rebirths until one cleanses oneself to be united with the divine. Suicide or unnatural death leads to bad karma and one remains in world which has only suffering and pain, there is no salvation. I used to hold myself from taking my life earlier though I am not a very religious person, now all I think is I don't care. I feel there can be nothing worse than what I am enduring.
Still the fact is life is precious, I want to live but with what is happening it doesn't seem possible.

6th September, 2016

Yesterday I struggled to sleep. I kept turning and changing sides, I had taken 0.125 of clonazepam half my normal intake. I would have fallen asleep but the thought that I had taken half the pill kept me awake and restless. I got up and took the pill and was quickly asleep. Nani was sleeping by my side, I worried for her.

When I left home I really had no idea if I would return, I wanted to kiss Nani a last wish but I didn't want to raise any doubts on Archana so left home without kissing her. What hopes or wishes have fulfilled that I should expect this wish to be fulfilled as well. I was lightheaded, not very suicidal still contemplating it. Despite not being suicidal I wondered what is the point in living. Yet strangely it was not as bad as yesterday and at one point in time I was telling myself, its life the most difficult days last a maximum of 15 days and I have to get used to it. Whatever I tell myself the fact is living is becoming more and more painful. I was not tearful, I was empty, the kind of emptiness that sucks the breath out of you, the kind of emptiness that scares you more than the face of death.

There is not much to do at work, just some testing and I don't like that. Empty at heart and empty of work, that is such a lethal combination and yet I survived this day.

When I had to go to my colleagues desk for something I used to feel a chill run down my whole body, I just wanted to leave everything and fall in ground and crumble into pieces.

At work the song on which nani had performed kept playing in my mind. Her happy, cheerful face kept taunting me throughout the day. How ephemeral is happiness, how listless the life is?

I worked till 4:00PM and hurried home. As I got into the lift I thought I will reach home late and it will worry Archana as she is aware of my thought-process and my mental state. I sent her a text saying I will be little late this evening.

I was momentarily calm almost close to happy when I reached home, then again the dark spell took me over. I hid myself in my room. Archana and nani were giggling and playing in other room. Archana usually sits by my side when I am at home and she has nothing to do, I didn't know why she chose the other room. I walked silently into the other room watched them play. They didn't notice me, I stood there watching them. This was their fate, one for each other. There won't be a loving husband and there won't be a caring father, my daughter will have to live like this, my wife will have to live like this. They have to seek happiness with each other because that is all they will be left with. I returned back to my room, more worried. I didn't have evil ideas spoiling my brain, yet I knew things won't be right and the fact remained I was as depressed as I had been.

Every drop of life has oozed out of me

It was on Saturday, I wrote how this time I was depressed but not suicidal, that didn't happen to be true today. I was heavily suicidal and at two points I just wanted to do it, the suffering was too much to take, it was really hard to calm myself down. Then again as usual the face of my angel, my daughter appeared before me, I was again all tearful. I feel like a soldier who is between life and death, the bullets have made holes everywhere in the body but there is a life and worse of all he can feel the pain, terrible pain. The suicidal thought subsided after the lunch but it was not fully gone.
I went to see a different GP, I cried before him. I felt so helpless. It was an expensive visit but I had thought I would spend atleast a month's salary for my health. He asked me if I felt suicidal, I said yes. He asked if I had any plans or if I had bought any instrument. I said no, I didn't want to be sent to suicide prevention centre. Plan!!! I think I will jump before a train. I wonder what he meant by instruments.
On the way back home I had closed my eyes the same instrumental music playing on my mobile phone. I wondered why music sounded like a cacophony, where had happiness gone, where was the person who was always happy just a decade back, where was the loving husband, where was the caring father. I am not who I am. A strong smell of facial cream dragged my troubled mind, it reminded me of my mother, it reminded me of an old photograph where me and my brother stood by the side of a young woman, that young woman was my mother. I thought how different she looked on Skype this Saturday, time has eroded the glow of youth and her son has added more to her worries. I remembered the smile of my father, one of the upper teeth missing, he will be turning 70 in 3 years and only pain I have given him.
My palms are burning, my head is light and dizzy. Every drop of life has oozed out of me. I have returned home today, I am not sure about tomorrow.

The struggle continues

Today I went to see a counsellor. I didn't want to take my daughter with me as she had to walk longer. She is already suffering because of her father's illness, I rush her at stations take her to distant places where she gets bored. Those places are obviously not for her, but there is no one to look after her, I took her with me with a heavy heart and yes she had to walk long. I failed the driving test once again, 5 times in a row. I get too nervous to the extent that I just do see things coming and decide at whim. I failed immediately after I started driving. Spent $250 for nothing. I am tired of these things, too tired. Day before yesterday my daughter's school had organised an event. When returning we were the only one who had to come on public transport, I wished I would get the licence the next day but as always my wishes and hopes shattered. I have another test on 28th of September and I am not so sure about it. I thought this time I will get the licence but things just get out of hand and causes more stress and more anxiety.
I had an appointment with my GP today, I reluctantly went to her, hoping she will write prescription for clonazepam but she didn't. She has asked me to come out of clonazepam as quickly as possible and has prescribed diazepam to taper off clonazepam. She has also doubled my effexor dosage, now I will be taking 150mg of effexor.
But still I don't think I will be able to come off clonazepam very easily, so I have no option other than returning to my previous psychiatrist and in the mean time try to taper it off. I will have my parents bring some when they are here, so that I do not have to see the psychiatrist again. I think I will continue counselling though.
My counsellor has suggested me to see another GP which she says has a good reputation from her client. But that again means lot of travelling and again lot of stress. I had my GP write a referral to another psychiatrist who practiced closer to my office. I don't know if I would see him.
I was very sad today. I talked with my parents and my brother. My parents as usual tried to boost my morale and not to loose hope, my brother suggested I should not let my confidence go down. I do not have confidence left, it is worries, pain and hopelessness that I carry.
I talked with Archana at length last evening, I told her about Andrew Soloman's talk in TED talk and how every word he said seemed so relevant to me. I told her how he said he had managed to live with depression with the help of his psychiatrist and therapist. I told her if I could get a good psychiatrist and probably a good therapist, I might learn to live with it as well.
I have told myself that I have to live with depression for the rest of my life and requested myself (and sometimes determined when I am in slightly better mood) to accept this fact and carry on. Most of the time I feel very bad and still feel suicidal. However this time the thoughts of suicide has not been as overwhelming as earlier and probably that's good. Its only not overwhelming but it is still there, I have to convince myself really hard that the life is worth living if not for myself then for my daughter and my wife, my parents and my brother.
The physical symptoms of depression and anxiety are becoming little too difficult to handle. My palms burns and it is often unbearable that I have to wash my hand with cold water or place ice in it. Lately my foot has also started to burn, the psychiatrist I saw Wednesday said it was anxiety, my counsellor today said there might be some other reason and I should see a specialist as she doubted it might be related to the nervous system. That added more to my worries. I am already living with pancreatitis, depression and now nerve related issues. I think that can be dealt with Yoga.
On our way to home, I wanted to close my eyes and try to take a nap in train but my little daughter kept asking me her innocent question like "why we have middle-of-the-night", who sees them, what happens in the middle of the night etc. She was leaning against me despite there was enough space for her to be on her own, she seeks support. When walking she keeps holding my hand, I keep telling her she is a grown up girl and she need not hold my hand yet she does not listen.
I have been off work for 5 consecutive days and I am worried about Monday.
I slept till 8:00AM in the morning. I had slept almost 12 hours. I tried to do some meditation and strangely I managed to get some peace today though it was very short lived.
Tomorrow Nepalese women keep a fast for the longitivtiy of their husband's life and today they feast. Their parents, brothers and husband are supposed to manage for the feast. I didn't want Archana to keep that fast as it looks mundane to me and I feel why should she go through hunger for a loser like me but she is adamant. While most of the women will enjoy, dance, music and delicious cuisine my Archana had nothing to rejoice. So I went to an Indian's store bought some sweets and paneer (fresh cheese). I will be cooking the paneer for her. I watched a video on youtube and have made everything ready. I will cook it just before she is back home. That is the least this poor, depressed husband can do for a caring and loving wife.

Search for psychiatrist

Hopes after hopes are crashing. I was hoping that the new psychiatrist was better one but luck had stored something else for me. This one was not good either. The first thing was he practiced very far away from where I reside and second I didn’t find him competent enough. I was already running out of clonazepam and I thought I would have this new psychiatrist write a prescription for me. I had the only 3 pills left which would last me only 6 days, the GP won’t write the prescription for clonazepam because it is addictive in nature. I requested this new psychiatrist to write me the clonazepam but he said he couldn’t do it. He said the way my GP had written a referral prevented him from prescribing me any medicine. I pleaded to him that if he doesn’t write me a prescription for clonazepam, I will be in big trouble. I told him that I had tried to come out of the clonazepam once but it had severe withdrawal symptoms. In fact he even suggested I should not taper off clonazepam yet he refused to prescribe it to me. He said the only option left for me to go to the GP explain her my situations and ask her to write the prescription. I walked out of the clinic almost devastated with no idea what I will do next. I was in serious trouble. I had to take my daughter with me to see the psychiatrist as there was no one to look after her. I called my GP’s clinic on my way back home to book an appointment as soon as possible. The earliest appointment I could have was on 3^rd of September, three days later and it was unlikely that she would write me a prescription. I was getting more and more restless. I called my previous psychiatrist’s clinic to book for an appointment as he would certainly write me the prescription but nobody picked the call. It was getting really unbearable to live that situation, if I didn’t have my daughter with me, I didn’t know what I would have done. I have not been able to control my nervousness and smallest of incidents make me go crazy. Then I planned that no matter what happens I was going to my previous psychiatrist on Saturday and explain him my situation and get the prescription. I was nervous and shaking as I boarded the train with my daughter. Then I remembered once I had put some clonazepam pills in my office bag so that I could have it if I get extremely fidgety and nervous at work. With a great hope I looked inside the bag and there it was 8 pills which meant I had 16 days plus 6 days a total of twenty two days. It was a relief, though I was worried for the fact that my quest of good psychiatrist was a disappointment and all my hopes were shattering. I tried to tell myself if there is one help that is available then its me myself. I have to learn to live with depression. By the way this new psychiatrist had suggested I had more of anxiety than depression and whatever symptoms I told him indicated towards anxiety rather than depression. He suggested depression was a side-effect of anxiety, something I had doubted earlier.

On the way back home I got a call from work, they already are doubting my situation. Neil wanted to discuss something with me, I told him that I will be at home after half an hour, half an hour later a nervous shaky me was talking with Neil mixing words. Then I was working nervously, then I got a call from my previous psychiatrist’s assistant. I had missed an appointment with him so I said I was at hospital. I requested her to give me the earliest appointment possible. She said the earliest I could have was on 21^st of September. I said it would be too late she must do something to help me, then she said if 14^th was ok with me. I said that would be OK and she booked an appointment for 14^th September at 5:00PM. I was little relieved but at the same time worried that I had to deal with this psychiatrist who would do nothing but count money.

Archana called me a little later, she was as hopeful as I was that the new psychiatrist would be good and he would be able to help me. When I told her the entire thing  she was very disappointed as well, and from her voice I could say she was really worried as well. The prospects of my becoming better looked more and more distant.

I dig down into my fear

Today was OK, not as ok as yesterday yet a day I can live with. After lunch (1:00 PM) I felt that ominous fear. My palms started to burn, I could feel the burning in stomach. I was tearful. On my way back home, I went down the memory lanes of my early childhood to find a clue.
My early childhood was spent with my mom and my brother as my father was transferred to the far eastern district. As a elder son, I was always told that I had to take care of the family, of my parents. My father couldn't walk properly and probably my mom used to feel insecure about it. I could see her struggle with meagre income, two small sons to take care of and the husband away. Life was not easy for my young mother. My father was doing his best so that we could live happier. Then one early morning we woke up to the sound of our wailing mother. Her father had passed away, she was unconsolable. My mom cried and mourned for more days. Loss of parents are really painful and that entered deep into my shaping mind, they must be the most important people in anyone's life.
Later in one of the vacations, we were in Jhapa where my father was posted. While playing with some kids I fell and fractured a bone in my leg. My leg was in cast for one months and all I could do was to lie in bed. Back in those days and specially in third world countries like ours no-one got crutches perhaps that was a luxury people of poor country could not afford. We lived in the service quarters of my father. Often I was lonely in a poorly lit room. I have vague memories. I kept thinking about so many things, I often used to think that one day my parents will die. I used to worry what will I do then, I loved them so much. I used to cry by creating situations in my brain that had no links to reality, or anticipating situations that might not occur. The fear of losing parents, fear of losing loved ones rooted deep down into me. The fear will revisit me in my adulthood. I do not know if this is the reason of my depression but yes I was sadist by nature from the very young age.
When I am depressed, my main worries remain around my daughter. I keep worrying what will she do without a father, perhaps the fear of losing parents from my early childhood has something to do with this.