Switzerblog

Okay, so we all have our own brand of crazy.  Some people obsess, some people count (I count stairs – factoid), some people have body dysmorphic disorder, some people are schizophrenic.  But we all have some level of crazy.  For some folks, they can put that crazy to good use – I mean, OCD can actually be a useful business skill if you channel it correctly!  For others, it’s a nuisance, and for some, it impacts their ability to function in society.  And for some of us, it impacts our ability to manage relationships.

For most of my life, my crazy has been more of a nuisance.  I have OCD, so as I said above, I count stairs, make parallel lines, and I have things that can’t be touched (newspapers/magazines, pens).  Yeah, if I buy a newspaper and you grab the business section from me, I might just walk away and buy another paper.  But I can totally function if these things have to go by the wayside – either for expediency or to keep up appearances.  It just makes me feel a bit hinky; it isn’t like I think Garth Brooks will die if I don’t touch the light switch three times.  (thank God I don’t have the touching-things type of OCD! What a nightmare)  I also have a touch of depression, which for most of my life just meant I would get moody from time to time, which was easily enough chalked up to my male time-o-the-month. 

Unfortunately, in the last few years of my marriage, depression became a larger part of my life, and in late 2008 became fully debilitating, although I wasn’t aware of it until it had contributed to the ending of my marriage and I had become almost non-functional.  A relatively minor slight caused my self-image to plummet and sent me spiraling out of control.  Of course, divorce is traumatic for anyone, but hits pretty hard for someone who’s already depressed, so a bad situation became worse.

So, after a lifetime of proudly handling my down times on my own, in January of 2009 I began taking anti-anxiety medication.  By this point, it had reached a point of disordered thinking that resulted in bad decisions I still can’t explain, lost time (I don’t remember large chunks of 2009), and suicidal thinking.  (Something else I plan to write about, btw)  After about a year of tinkering, we found a drug and dosage that seem to keep me level-headed; I have normal moods and emotions, but I don’t have the massive valleys that had developed.  WHEW!

So why am I telling you guys this stuff?  Well, I had a weird experience this weekend.  I forgot to take my meds on Friday and Saturday.  By Friday night, I was agitated and tweeting while angry, and decided to go drinking with some friends. At a fairly rough bar, I found myself looking around for someone to pick a fight with…I can’t even explain to people who don’t know me how far outside my personality that is.  Luckily, I recognized that as a *bad* sign, stopped drinking and stuck close to my friends.  On Saturday, I got gloomier, tweeted some unpleasantness, and had deeply disturbing dreams.  And my plans to off myself resurfaced, yay!  By Sunday, I realized I had no memory of what I’d done Saturday, and realized what had happened.  Once I got straightened out, happy Switzer returned and I had my equilibrium back.  Scary stuff, and if I’d gone a few more days, it would have been worse!  After taking my meds on Sunday and getting back to normal, I thought about this and realized that this has become a barrier to normal relationships.  And that’s really why I’m writing this.  Although let’s be honest – it also spooked me and this is my way of venting.

See, I used to be like everyone else.  Bad moods would come and go, but they were like storms.  Some more intense than others, but basically they’d blow in and blow out pretty quickly.   But over the last few years, it’s as though a persistent low pressure pocket formed in my head.  These things blow in, but basically just keep building.  And when I get off meds like I did this weekend…wow.  Hurricane Switzer.  It becomes a feeding frenzy for negative thoughts.  Someone doesn’t return a call, that means they don’t like me.  Pretty soon, that means they never did.  Before long, no one does.  And since these things are obviously facts, there’s no point examining them; I just accept it.  So what’s the point in trying anymore?  It isn’t like a sadness or even hopelessness.  It’s more…not caring.  I stop caring what people think, since it doesn’t matter.  And I become angry about the people who give me advice – take care of yourself, go to the gym, make eye contact, blah blah blah.  Why are they wasting my time with advice that doesn’t matter?  Are they amusing themselves at my expense? 

What a joy, right?  Well, guess how this expresses itself externally!  Saturday night, I went out for an ill-advised (in hindsight) drink.  A bartender I’ve been trying to make friends with – not romantically; too young, not my type, not interested in me at all – suddenly greeted me by name.  First time ever!  Normally, this is a time for playing it cool, noting that you’ve made some progress and making some friendly chit-chat.  Sadly, I think I was downright unpleasant to this poor girl.  Wouldn’t look at her, obviously I was angry so I’m sure she could see that, mumbled my orders.  Just a mess.  And not normal – I’d bet it’s a creepy sight when I’m like that; my best friend has referred to my ‘crazy eyes’ when I’m off meds.

So as a single guy, this is a big deal.  I have no interest in dating this girl, but she is friends with people I might want to meet.  Hands up, who thinks she’s interested in introducing any of her friends, for any reason, to the creepy angry dude?  Right.  And good lord, think of the damage I’ve done with women I am interested in dating when I’m like this!  And let’s just look at basic friendships, disregarding dating.  How many friends want no part of that mess? 

I’m a cheerful guy.  Not really outgoing, I’m pretty shy, but I can be engaging and entertaining and funny.  I’m gentle – I’m slow to anger, and I abhor fighting.  Overall, I’m pretty happy!  And I’m an easy laugh; who doesn’t love someone who always laughs at their jokes, right?  But all of those good things are undone when this badness happens.  And even when I’m all medicated up, I’m still struggling with doubts and hurt from the divorce and things that have happened over the past year, so there are times when I get pretty deep inside my own head. 

So what’s the point of all this public introspection?  A couple things.  I think it’s time for therapy, alas.  I’ve always depended on my own self-awareness (pretty deep), understanding of psychology, and intelligence to deal with things like this.  My Dad taught me to always find my weaknesses and make them a strength, and I’ve always done that from a mental health perspective, very successfully.  But I think this is more than I can handle.  I need a nice person to talk to, and for the love of God I need to be careful about my meds!  So a new chapter will begin for Switzer: therapy. 

And the other point?  I know I’m not alone.  Others struggle with this.  And as much as I know I hurt myself when I go down the rabbit-hole (I call it getting lost in my head), I know I hurt others.  I was unkind to my bartender friend.  I was unkind to my ex-wife before we split up.  I’ve taken advantage of people at the worst of times, but even now that it’s under control, I sometimes let them down.  And I just can’t live with that, and no one else who struggles with this should have to live with it either.  So if anything I’ve written sounds like you?  You’re not alone.  Go talk to somebody.  Send me an email.  Accept help.  It’s okay, and you’re not broken, just scratched.  This is totally fixable, so make yourself well and start some positive feedback loops instead of negative.  That’s what I’m doing, starting tomorrow. 

1 Comment. Join the Conversation

• Tiffany posted on June 7, 2010
  Ray? I think you started today. Good for you. Your friends are here for you.