Today has been a bad day. It started off well. I woke up early enough, made coffee, had a quick shower, and headed to the office. Although it was dull and murky, it wasn't raining on my rickshaw ride to work. I had the usual roadside idli breakfast and reached work just before my reporting time. The first hour went really well, when I thought I did well to finish the work on an assignment. Then it all started to go wrong.
First it was the constant barrage of interruptions. Junior editors asking me doubts, the project managers constantly shuffling and changing work, people randomly coming up and stopping by, work-related e-mail and instant messages on your computers. I know multitasking is not efficient, but how the hell do you ask people to stop interrupting you? One could argue that being interrupted is a given in a work environment similar to mine, but I don't think that still doesn't explain why people don't think of ways to establish guidelines to streamline all of this.
And then the personal life interruptions started to mount. Messages and e-mails from my sister and Jay. I simply cannot seem to ask them to stop interrupting me. They probably are having an easy day--well, at least I know that sister was taking a day off to recover from an upper respiratory infection--and they want to share it with. Or so it seems like. I don't want to be rude, but it still does make me stressed and anxious. Usually, my afternoon catnap does wonders. It did today too. But after that, the constant stream of interruptions kept me on edge all evening. How I wish I could just block everything and just do my work.
Then the day became worse. Unnecessary wait for the rickshaw, heavy rain on the way with me getting partially wet, crazy traffic--all of this when I was trying to reach my apartment in time to receive my guitar amplifier from someone that my friend was sending it with. In the middle of all this, there was a playful, teasing Jay, at the other end of a Whatsapp chat. Eventually, I let him know that I would appreciate if he would be a little more understanding and less teasing when things are not working out for me. I don't think he completely understood but there was a temporary relief from the frantic texting.
Then I walked into my building to screaming kids, as usual. I walked into my apartment to find that the maid hasn't come in an done the cleaning. Eventually, I learned that my friend was not going to be able to send the amplifier after all! I was so edgy by this time, that I felt that I need to have dinner and go to bed early. So I dial the restaurant downstairs to only find out that there telephone line is engaged for almost half an hour! In between all this, some more texting with Jay. Eventually I got through to the restaurant and got some dinner.
I tried to read a book for a bit but the most annoying ads in between overs on the cricket broadcast and the screaming kids on the corridor did not let me concentrate. Then I had dinner and I felt slightly better. Jay tried some philosophy on the fucked-up-ness of the world on text. That's probably not what I wanted. Eventually, he asked me if I would like to have a phone conversation. A usual, I refused because I felt that we would have a very edgy conversation. It was hard to make him understand why I must go to bed early.
I watched the last few overs of the test match while sorting out my medications for the next few weeks, putting the cocktail of pills in my monthly pill box. I realized that I was relatively short of one of the six I was on. That means that I have to go get another prescription from the shrink and go to the pharmacy and beg for them to give the drugs to me! Aarrgh! The only other things that I can imagine that could have made this day worse are losing my wallet, getting dumped, and have multiple limbs amputated in a road traffic accident.
I want this day to end. Please.
Showing posts with label shrink. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shrink. Show all posts
Merry Christmas
I can't believe that it's been over 6 months since I last posted a note on this blog. I sincerely apologize. Just so you know, I had my last major bout of depression in early April 2012. Life has almost come around a whole circle in the succeeding 8 months or so. I'm at a very happy place in my life at the moment. Knock on wood!
So what happened in that period? The lack of motivation to share thoughts, which comes bundled with the package of depression in the brains of people like me, was the reason in the first three months. I cheated. I mean I lied, or, maybe I should say, I didn't come clean with the truth, in the last few posts. This was when I was really struggling to comprehend what was happening to me.
Supposedly, I was happy. I was in a promising relationship, had ongoing projects with three bands, one one of which looked like it would fulfill my dream of cutting an album, and my work-life was going smoothly. From out of nowhere, it hit me. I fell flat on my face and the people closest to me chose to give up on me. Within no time, I was dumped my my lover, rejected by one band, kicked out of another, and stranded by the third.
I was dazed and confused but I managed to not crack down under adversity, thanks to some excellent friends, who stood by me and saw me through, and of course, to my new shrink. Thank you, Billiards, for spending so much time with me on Skype virtually every night for many months. Thank you, Sujit, for helping me find a new shrink, which made me turn the corner. Thank you, my work colleagues, for providing me with the wonderful environment where I spend most of my awake hours. Finally, thank you Mr. Psychiatrist, without whom, wouldn't have known what it is like to be really happy.
The new shrink, almost magically, brought in a radical transition by switching me to a new medication and guiding me to cognitive therapy. He suggested that I should be weaned off of the previous psychoactive cocktail (low-dose combination therapy with escitalopram, clonazepam, and haloperidol) and started me on bupropion. Along with that, he guided me to http://depressioncenter.net, which gave me the insight about cognitive therapy - I meticulously maintained a mood diary for about a month, which enabled me to find out what were the real triggers, and thereby find the root cause of my negative thought cycles.
Sometime in late July or early August, I started enjoying life like I have never before. I guess I had more time for myself with most of my responsibilities as a musician, apart from my that as a solo performer, having vacated my life, and I started watching, following, and reading stuff that interested me and I started looking forward to spending time by myself. I restarted socializing - dating, drinking out, going for movies, etc. I also was able to get rid of my guilt to spend money for myself for entertainment and leisure. By September, I was dead sure - the period comprising the last three months or so was the happiest that I had ever been.
Then, in October, out of nowhere, I met three interesting men - all three attractive, single (well, technically, at least), and interested in me. All three are so different and yet seemed to offer me something that I had never experienced in Mumbai - dating. Although I'm good friends with all of them, I have spent most of the last two months with one of them - Jay - and it has just been a wonderful experience.
Thus, on the eve of Christmas, I sit by myself, content and happy, albeit missing Jay, hoping to spend the New Year's eve with him.
Merry Christmas.
Stay calm and hug a bear. Trust me, that works.
So what happened in that period? The lack of motivation to share thoughts, which comes bundled with the package of depression in the brains of people like me, was the reason in the first three months. I cheated. I mean I lied, or, maybe I should say, I didn't come clean with the truth, in the last few posts. This was when I was really struggling to comprehend what was happening to me.
Supposedly, I was happy. I was in a promising relationship, had ongoing projects with three bands, one one of which looked like it would fulfill my dream of cutting an album, and my work-life was going smoothly. From out of nowhere, it hit me. I fell flat on my face and the people closest to me chose to give up on me. Within no time, I was dumped my my lover, rejected by one band, kicked out of another, and stranded by the third.
I was dazed and confused but I managed to not crack down under adversity, thanks to some excellent friends, who stood by me and saw me through, and of course, to my new shrink. Thank you, Billiards, for spending so much time with me on Skype virtually every night for many months. Thank you, Sujit, for helping me find a new shrink, which made me turn the corner. Thank you, my work colleagues, for providing me with the wonderful environment where I spend most of my awake hours. Finally, thank you Mr. Psychiatrist, without whom, wouldn't have known what it is like to be really happy.
The new shrink, almost magically, brought in a radical transition by switching me to a new medication and guiding me to cognitive therapy. He suggested that I should be weaned off of the previous psychoactive cocktail (low-dose combination therapy with escitalopram, clonazepam, and haloperidol) and started me on bupropion. Along with that, he guided me to http://depressioncenter.net, which gave me the insight about cognitive therapy - I meticulously maintained a mood diary for about a month, which enabled me to find out what were the real triggers, and thereby find the root cause of my negative thought cycles.
Sometime in late July or early August, I started enjoying life like I have never before. I guess I had more time for myself with most of my responsibilities as a musician, apart from my that as a solo performer, having vacated my life, and I started watching, following, and reading stuff that interested me and I started looking forward to spending time by myself. I restarted socializing - dating, drinking out, going for movies, etc. I also was able to get rid of my guilt to spend money for myself for entertainment and leisure. By September, I was dead sure - the period comprising the last three months or so was the happiest that I had ever been.
Then, in October, out of nowhere, I met three interesting men - all three attractive, single (well, technically, at least), and interested in me. All three are so different and yet seemed to offer me something that I had never experienced in Mumbai - dating. Although I'm good friends with all of them, I have spent most of the last two months with one of them - Jay - and it has just been a wonderful experience.
Thus, on the eve of Christmas, I sit by myself, content and happy, albeit missing Jay, hoping to spend the New Year's eve with him.
Merry Christmas.
Stay calm and hug a bear. Trust me, that works.
The new shrink
I finally managed to come out of my depression closet and write something on my blog a few days back. Now, I took it another step forward. I met a new shrink.
The first sitting was rather remarkable. He must have asked me maybe eight or ten questions. I would just go on and about my past. The most that I talked about was my relationship with Vinokur and how it came to an end.
It felt telling a stranger about everything that affected me negatively from the past – from parental physical abuse, incestual sexual abuse, being looked down by my family almost throughout my childhood and adolescence, the hospital changing my perspective of life, why I came to Mumbai, to how I fell in and out of love and was broken into pieces – everything.
My shrink listened to me carefully. At the end of of our session, he offered me a comprehensive plan. New antidepressant (bupropion), slow tapering off of the cocktail, introduction to cognitive therapy, and regular physical exercise.
Although, I have been feeling much better in the last few days and I was even more content with myself that I finally took a measure toward getting out of the rut. Let’s see where this leads me.
Battling depression
The past few months, I have been relatively quiet – everywhere, not just on the blog. The depression is at it again. Forcing me to feel bad about myself and incompetent, and making me think of suicide. It makes me want to avoid meeting and talking to people or engage in group activities. The only thing that I have been wanting to do is to go home when I’m at work and to go to work when I’m at home.
Work keeps me engaged and the wonderful family of colleagues that I work with keep me relatively upbeat for most of the working day. Occasionally, one of them would send me an instant message asking me what’s wrong and remind me to start smiling and laughing again. At home, I spent most of the time consuming entertainment – movies, television series, sports, entertainment, social networking, etc. Nothing productive ever happens.
For the few gigs that I had during these months, I managed to work enough to just rehearse enough both by myself and with the bands. The only time I really enjoyed myself is when I was playing live in front of a receptive audience. Some of my friends in my musical circles seem to understand. But I can feel that my band mates are very frustrated with me. I avoid contact with them as much as possible and, on occasions, have postponed/canceled rehearsal sessions at the last minute.
For those who don’t know, I have broken up with Joe. Crazy stuff happened and I was depressed enough to let it happen and not take any measures to prevent the catastrophe. My nadir coincidentally coincided with the breakup.
The last time when I was such a low, Vinokur helped me out. He got in touch with my psychiatry resident friend here and asked her to prescribe something for me. She did. She put me on a cocktail. Escitalopram + Clonazepam + Haloperidol. I have been religiously adhering to the prescription for the best part of the last 3 years.
But now, I think I need a change. Maybe a new shrink. Someone who doesn’t know me. Someone who can arrive at a diagnosis and start treatment afresh.
The curious case of self-flagellation
As I'm resocializing and resocia-gayzing rampantly these days, I am posed one question quite frequently - a little too frequently for my comfort.
'I haven't heard from/seen you in ages! How/where have you been Kris?'
My answer always has been in either of two forms. The rather bland and gentle one goes like this — 'I've been up and down a lot, more down than up. But I'm up now!' The more edgy answer intended to hurtle a jaw or two over a cliff goes like this — 'I have been suffering from clinical depression with suicidal tendencies. Thankfully, my friends (boyfriend in particular) and dear therapist (friend) managed to help me out of it. I'm on medications now — anti-depressants, anti-psychotics, and anti-anxiety drugs. I'm much better now. Thanks! Have you ever considered suicide?'
When I say 'up and down', I mean it. I'm suffering from type 2 bipolar disorder bordering on unipolar depression. If it is indeed unipolar, the times when I surface from the depths of depression (to near normalcy) represent the manic phases of bipolarity. Either way, my phrenus is fluctuant. A status message on my office private messenger summed it up nicely — 'Kris is up and down like a BMC-repaired road'.
This weekend was an uncharacteristically typical up and down one for me. Here’s a recap.
Friday night: It was a mad night at a music awards ceremony where I hung out with friends (read superstars and rock icons), got drunk, hit on a my-type-of-hunk singing legend and gave him my number, then got dared to take off my shirt for a Bollywood/rock diva in exchange for her taking her shirt off (this incident got covered in Bombay Times today), and finally retching and throwing up on my way back in the cab and in my apartment, before crashing.
Saturday morning: Woke up with a hangover and bilious gastritis — it was as if my liver was saying 'Get a life, jerk!' Then, for the first time in a year, I welcomed one of my dear office colleagues to my apartment. She was there to give me company during the shooting of a documentary film about openly gay people — the film title 'Engayging Lives' is derived from Here’s Truly. It was supposed to be shot a month ago and I was one of the main characters in the film; well, until my depression destroyed any possibility of me being a part of it. After starting therapy and somewhat stabilizing on it, I had gotten in touch with the charming girls from Sophiya college and they gave me another chance to be a visual part of the film — I'm doing the background score for the film anyway.
Saturday evening: After that, I had a fantastic gig with Shoonyas when we performed as an opening act for Agnee at VJTI college in Matunga. We did a quite remarkable set that was a crazy mix of rock and Bollywood. Three of my dear colleagues from my workplace were there to make the evening special. I can’t believe the support I get from my office - thanks so much! That, however, was the end of the high.
Then, I was set up for a traumatic and humiliating dinner invitation that I would not like to dwell on — apart from a salad that I tossed together, and a few moments clicking two lovers making out, I felt really horrible. My pills were there in the background but the self-flagellation was severe. This must have triggered my insecurities which led to me having an intense argument with Vinokur, which pushed me to the limits of masochistic depression. I could feel myself conjuring up plots and subplots in my mind, each and every step meant to hurt me a little deeper.
Luckily, thanks to just Vinokur, I was rescued once again and we somehow managed to get me to sleep without more mutual trauma! Sleep seems to be one potent douser of my flames.
Sunday morning: I woke up feeling much better and had a nice, long Skype conversation with Vinokur. Intense multi-tasking ensued and I started feeling like my old self — capable and confident. Moreover, I agreed for a date with a rather mysterious person, which I've been procrastinating for months if not years. A walk down the Juhu beach with him and his dog, and a relaxing conversation over tea later laid the background for an interesting prospect.
Sunday evening: After the date, I went to my first GB meet in months — mainly to meet up with the dear aunt of a friend. During the entire meet, I was keying things on my PDA, not speaking unless being specifically asked to. Later, I invited my favorite aunt to be my date for Valentine's Day! On my way back, a series of incidents including self-deprecatory humor, inability to remember the name of the book that I had read (Ellie Wiesel's 'Night'), and a couple of inflammatory FB threads bared everything in me in under half an hour. I knew I was going down to self-created whiplashes from my delusional world, but couldn't stop myself.
Ironically, an FB chat with one of my erstwhile co-residents from the hospital, during which my friend proved how narrow-minded, conservative and rude Indian society could still be vis-รก-vis homosexuality and a coming out situation. However, I defended valiantly without losing my calm despite my pride being at stake. This chat made me realize that I'm good after all, and that my return to practicing surgery in the myopic and treacherous environment of the hospital would be difficult if not impossible.
It's amazing how masochistic depression can almost whip you down to nothingness. For those who are suffering from the same, or those who know of people who do, please help yourself and others to overcome this!
'I haven't heard from/seen you in ages! How/where have you been Kris?'
My answer always has been in either of two forms. The rather bland and gentle one goes like this — 'I've been up and down a lot, more down than up. But I'm up now!' The more edgy answer intended to hurtle a jaw or two over a cliff goes like this — 'I have been suffering from clinical depression with suicidal tendencies. Thankfully, my friends (boyfriend in particular) and dear therapist (friend) managed to help me out of it. I'm on medications now — anti-depressants, anti-psychotics, and anti-anxiety drugs. I'm much better now. Thanks! Have you ever considered suicide?'
When I say 'up and down', I mean it. I'm suffering from type 2 bipolar disorder bordering on unipolar depression. If it is indeed unipolar, the times when I surface from the depths of depression (to near normalcy) represent the manic phases of bipolarity. Either way, my phrenus is fluctuant. A status message on my office private messenger summed it up nicely — 'Kris is up and down like a BMC-repaired road'.
This weekend was an uncharacteristically typical up and down one for me. Here’s a recap.
Friday night: It was a mad night at a music awards ceremony where I hung out with friends (read superstars and rock icons), got drunk, hit on a my-type-of-hunk singing legend and gave him my number, then got dared to take off my shirt for a Bollywood/rock diva in exchange for her taking her shirt off (this incident got covered in Bombay Times today), and finally retching and throwing up on my way back in the cab and in my apartment, before crashing.
Saturday morning: Woke up with a hangover and bilious gastritis — it was as if my liver was saying 'Get a life, jerk!' Then, for the first time in a year, I welcomed one of my dear office colleagues to my apartment. She was there to give me company during the shooting of a documentary film about openly gay people — the film title 'Engayging Lives' is derived from Here’s Truly. It was supposed to be shot a month ago and I was one of the main characters in the film; well, until my depression destroyed any possibility of me being a part of it. After starting therapy and somewhat stabilizing on it, I had gotten in touch with the charming girls from Sophiya college and they gave me another chance to be a visual part of the film — I'm doing the background score for the film anyway.
Saturday evening: After that, I had a fantastic gig with Shoonyas when we performed as an opening act for Agnee at VJTI college in Matunga. We did a quite remarkable set that was a crazy mix of rock and Bollywood. Three of my dear colleagues from my workplace were there to make the evening special. I can’t believe the support I get from my office - thanks so much! That, however, was the end of the high.
Then, I was set up for a traumatic and humiliating dinner invitation that I would not like to dwell on — apart from a salad that I tossed together, and a few moments clicking two lovers making out, I felt really horrible. My pills were there in the background but the self-flagellation was severe. This must have triggered my insecurities which led to me having an intense argument with Vinokur, which pushed me to the limits of masochistic depression. I could feel myself conjuring up plots and subplots in my mind, each and every step meant to hurt me a little deeper.
Luckily, thanks to just Vinokur, I was rescued once again and we somehow managed to get me to sleep without more mutual trauma! Sleep seems to be one potent douser of my flames.
Sunday morning: I woke up feeling much better and had a nice, long Skype conversation with Vinokur. Intense multi-tasking ensued and I started feeling like my old self — capable and confident. Moreover, I agreed for a date with a rather mysterious person, which I've been procrastinating for months if not years. A walk down the Juhu beach with him and his dog, and a relaxing conversation over tea later laid the background for an interesting prospect.
Sunday evening: After the date, I went to my first GB meet in months — mainly to meet up with the dear aunt of a friend. During the entire meet, I was keying things on my PDA, not speaking unless being specifically asked to. Later, I invited my favorite aunt to be my date for Valentine's Day! On my way back, a series of incidents including self-deprecatory humor, inability to remember the name of the book that I had read (Ellie Wiesel's 'Night'), and a couple of inflammatory FB threads bared everything in me in under half an hour. I knew I was going down to self-created whiplashes from my delusional world, but couldn't stop myself.
Ironically, an FB chat with one of my erstwhile co-residents from the hospital, during which my friend proved how narrow-minded, conservative and rude Indian society could still be vis-รก-vis homosexuality and a coming out situation. However, I defended valiantly without losing my calm despite my pride being at stake. This chat made me realize that I'm good after all, and that my return to practicing surgery in the myopic and treacherous environment of the hospital would be difficult if not impossible.
It's amazing how masochistic depression can almost whip you down to nothingness. For those who are suffering from the same, or those who know of people who do, please help yourself and others to overcome this!
My Indo-Pakistan paranoia
This afternoon, I had a chat session with a fellow gay from across the border. Since I believe in baring my heart out here, I thought it was a good idea to post a little bit of the transcript. I also believe that this will make it easier for my sister's shrink (2, 1) to get comfortable with my sexuality.
Kris: You know the thing that I have for Dads. How hot are Paki Dads? Just tell me.
Young Paki Gay: Very ;) They are going to come upto your expectations on EACH of your ideals ;) I did a couple of Paki dads and they were GOOD in bed :)
Kris: FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! Why did we ever get to be independent?
Young Paki Gay: So we can cross international boundaires and feel even BETTER about sex ;)
Kris: Now, I have a reason to get depressed.
Young Paki Gay: No you don't. :) From what I have heard,Pakistanis are just like Dilliwalas and Punjabis. You can visit Delhi and get laid.
Kris: Fuck you! I wanna get laid by a Khan or Sharif or Nazar or something!
Shrink: Part 2
I called the shrink tonight. I was greeted by a very heavy tamil accent in her English which sort of reminded me of my not-so-wonderful times at Chennai. We started with the ‘getting to know Kris’ section where I sort of repeated the conversation with my sister. When the conversation suddenly veered into ‘maybe Kris isn’t gay, he might be confused’, I switched cars; from a docile Maruti 800 to an aggressive Scorpio.
I vehemently, almost violently, made it clear that I indeed am gay. And that I have every right to be proclaiming my gayness. She asked me why I should wear it on my sleeve. I retorted ‘Can’t you and your partner, assuming that you are straight that is, hold hands in a train? Why shouldn't I be able to do that?’
I sort of sensed a sudden ‘taken by surprise’ element in her voice. She said that I could assume that she was straight and proceeded with the conversation. I found myself asking her again if she were actually straight or not. I didn’t get a clear answer because of the faulty Vodafone network.
We finally agreed to cooperate to try and help my sister get comfortable with my sexuality. I asked her if she could help my parents get to that same state. She said that she hardly knew me and she can’t do anything without meeting me. Fair, I thought. Unfair actually, when you think that you would have to travel all the way to Chennai and stay there for a few days to do that.
Come on! I can’t go and stay for a few days in Chennai! Anything more than a few hours in Chennai, is not recommended*,**. So, I directed her to my blog.
Since then, we have been exchanging e-mail regarding my wisdom in selecting an elderly, ailing partner. Needless to say, my vehemence has since then trebled.
(* Based on my personal observation. ** I'm very, very biased.)
I vehemently, almost violently, made it clear that I indeed am gay. And that I have every right to be proclaiming my gayness. She asked me why I should wear it on my sleeve. I retorted ‘Can’t you and your partner, assuming that you are straight that is, hold hands in a train? Why shouldn't I be able to do that?’
I sort of sensed a sudden ‘taken by surprise’ element in her voice. She said that I could assume that she was straight and proceeded with the conversation. I found myself asking her again if she were actually straight or not. I didn’t get a clear answer because of the faulty Vodafone network.
We finally agreed to cooperate to try and help my sister get comfortable with my sexuality. I asked her if she could help my parents get to that same state. She said that she hardly knew me and she can’t do anything without meeting me. Fair, I thought. Unfair actually, when you think that you would have to travel all the way to Chennai and stay there for a few days to do that.
Come on! I can’t go and stay for a few days in Chennai! Anything more than a few hours in Chennai, is not recommended*,**. So, I directed her to my blog.
Since then, we have been exchanging e-mail regarding my wisdom in selecting an elderly, ailing partner. Needless to say, my vehemence has since then trebled.
(* Based on my personal observation. ** I'm very, very biased.)
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