Posted on June 11, 2022
TW: Mentions of suicidal thoughts.
After a couple of months of Moclobemide, it became increasingly clear that it wasn’t really working. It was better than nothing but it wasn’t good enough; I was having less bad days than I’d been having previously but I wasn’t having many good days. I don’t expect constant happiness – I know that that’s not a realistic dream – but I have to believe it’s better than this. But, in order to try something new, I had to get off the Moclobemide first.
I was taking 300mg twice daily before I began to reduce the Moclobemide and I came off it fast. As always, this was a process I discussed with my psychiatrist and we made all of the decisions together, dependent on my medical history and our joint understanding of my reactions to these kinds of medications. This is just my experience. Please don’t start, change, or stop taking any medications without the advice and support of a medical professional.
150mg Twice Daily (+ 20mg Propranolol Twice Daily)
The first phase of the reduction was a little over a week and I didn’t feel particularly different. I was still feeling depressed and hopeless and miserable; I was so incredibly anxious. I didn’t want to be around people: I just felt so overwhelmed and oversensitive. I was feeling pretty unmoored and lost but on the worst days I felt pathetic and unaccomplished and useless. It was awful. Plus, it was a pretty hard week: although I had one really good hangout with a friend, I also had two quite upsetting medical appointments and a migraine that lasted several days.
Sleep-wise, it was still a struggle – as it has been for months. Getting to sleep was frustrating; sometimes it took hours, even on the few occasions that I took sleeping pills (I haven’t found them helpful since I tried ADHD medications back in November last year, which have thoroughly screwed up my sleep). The longer my difficulty with sleeping goes on, the more anxiety I have around it, which definitely isn’t helping. When I finally did sleep, I slept badly with the vivid, stressful dreams that I’ve come to associate with the changing of medications. I’d sleep late – into the afternoon – but even then, when I had managed to get up, I was still tired and sleepy, actually falling asleep on the sofa during the day several times.
I was craving food – particularly salty foods – but nothing satisfied the craving, which was incredibly frustrating.
It’s probably worth noting that I was in the middle of a pain flare up, with the pain mainly in my arms around the elbow. It was pretty bad, worse than the chronic pain has been for a while. It was especially bad in the mornings and was part of why I struggled to get up once I finally managed to wake up. It was so bad one day that I had to cancel my hydrotherapy session because just the thought of washing my hair in the shower had me near tears. Fortunately, it did start to get better by the end of the first phase, much to my relief.
150mg Once Daily (+ 20mg Propranolol Twice Daily)
The second phase of reducing the Moclobemide lasted ten days. It was a hard week: I was very depressed (and the suicidal thoughts were back) and I was easily overwhelmed and upset. It felt like my brain just wouldn’t shut up and kept magnifying all of the most distressing or anxiety-provoking thoughts I had; I was doing my best to keep myself distracted by mundane stuff as much as possible but I wasn’t always successful. As I said, it was a really hard week.
It was still taking me hours to get to sleep, even on the nights I was falling asleep on the sofa. Most nights, I slept badly and I had more of the same vivid, stressful dreams (and nightmares) before struggling to wake up, no earlier than eleven. I was sleepy within an hour of waking and Red Bull didn’t seem to help. I was so tired and so sleepy during the day; I fell asleep on the sofa in the day several times during those ten days. I was so tired all the time that I struggled to get anything done.
I was still craving the sensation of eating – especially salty foods, as I said – but again, food just wasn’t satisfying or filling in any way. I’ve got it under control for the most part – I’m getting better at resisting the urges and eating according to what I should be eating and not what I randomly want to eat which I then get no pleasure out of anyway – but it’s very frustrating. I’m also talking to a nutritionist about the specific salt craving and she’s sent off for blood tests to determine whether I have a vitamin or mineral deficiency that needs attending to.
The chronic pain got bad again after it’s momentary dip. It was so bad that it was repeatedly waking me up in the night and washing and drying my hair was an exhausting experience. I had several really bad pain days that made it a struggle to concentrate, to do anything. I also had a several horrible migraines that took me out of commission for a couple of days each, which was very unpleasant. They have been worse though so I’m grateful for that.
Washout (+ 20mg Propranolol Twice Daily)
The one day washout period was awful. I was deeply depressed with suicidal thoughts; I was barely functional. Fortunately, it was just one day without medication rather than the usual two weeks. That’s always the worst part of changing medications for me so I’m grateful that it was so short this time.
So coming off the Moclobemide wasn’t fun but it wasn’t as terrible as it could have been either. I’ve definitely had worse. I’m just glad it’s over and now I’m onto the next medication, which will hopefully be better. It’s hard to stay hopeful when I just seem to be finding medications that don’t work but even when I do feel hopeless, I honestly don’t know what else to do. So I just keep going.
[I just thought I’d add that, a few days after this, the chronic pain faded and I started to feel a lot better. So that was very good news.]
Category: chronic fatigue, chronic pain, depression, food, heds, medication, mental health, sleep, treatment Tagged: antidepressants, appetite, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, depressed, depression, drowsiness, eds, ehlers danlos syndrome, food, heds, hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome, maoi, maois, migraine, moclobemide, side effects, sleep, withdrawal symptoms
Posted on May 21, 2022
After I was diagnosed with Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, my Mum and I did quite a bit of research. There were a lot of things that suddenly made sense and one thing that caught our attention was mention of autonomic issues, like dizziness, fatigue, chronic pain, brain fog, problems with heart rate and blood pressure… These were all problems I’ve either struggled with or had investigated in the past so, with the hEDS diagnosis and the help of my GP, we started following that path to see if it yielded any answers.
As you can see, this post has been a long time in the writing. I didn’t want to post anything until I had something to say really, beyond descriptions of the tests, but then it all just went on and on and on. Everything moves so slowly and it’s very draining. I have to hope that things are better for knowing what I’ve learned from all of this but it’s also been a very trying, sometimes traumatic experience.
It began with a phone call appointment with a neurologist, a specialist from a neurology unit in London (which I talked about in this post). It wasn’t a fun experience. The call came two hours late, it wasn’t the person it was supposed to be, and then he spent twenty five minutes of the half hour call telling me that there were tests that they could do but that they’d probably be a waste of time. It just left me feeling really confused and upset. He had eventually said he’d write to my GP about doing some tests but after the way he’d been talking, I didn’t feel very hopeful about it all. After he hung up, I didn’t quite have a meltdown – it was like I didn’t have the energy that a full on meltdown requires to happen, like a rocket needing a certain amount of fuel or whatever to launch – but it was close.
Despite his apparent reluctance, the neurologist did in fact write to my GP and the blood pressure monitoring was arranged. It took forever – I think because of a shortage of the monitors – but the day did eventually arrive (I wrote more about it in this post). I went to the hospital to have the monitor fitted and to get all of my instructions; the whole thing was relatively chill (not my general experience when it comes to the medical field) and the two women who went through it all with me were really great.
It wasn’t too bad. The cuff got very tight so it was hard to forget it was there and just do the day as normal but it was fine. I did find it hard to get to sleep but the squeezing didn’t wake me up, which I was grateful for. My arm did hurt like hell in the morning, like I’d been punched repeatedly; I was convinced my arm would be bruised afterwards but it wasn’t. I couldn’t get the monitor wet so I couldn’t have a shower until after I returned it but since that’s usually when the blood pressure related symptoms present, we faked a shower: I stood for the same amount of time in the bathroom with the shower on (so that the hot, steamy environment was the same as if I were having a shower) and let the monitor take its readings. I felt shaky and dizzy and lightheaded so it should have read as if I really had had a shower.
I got through the rest of the twenty-four hour period and then took it off, to my great, great relief. My arm was sore from the squeezing and the cuff was pinching in various places. I also had that Autism thing where the constant pressure for so long was causing me anxiety, like wearing my retainer for too long. The anxiety had been growing for most of the second day so I was very relieved to be free.
The second round of monitoring involved a little stick-on patch with sensors over my heart, which had a little monitor that could be attached (and then detached for a shower) to measure my heart rate. I was supposed to wear it for a week and while it wasn’t exactly comfortable and sleeping with it attached wasn’t great, the first few days went smoothly for the most part.
But, after several showers, the patch started to peel off. The sensation of it constantly brushing my skin and the itchiness of the glue (or whatever it is) as it disintegrated was quickly overwhelming and I was regularly finding myself in meltdown territory. It was creating so much anxiety that we got in contact with the people who’d sent it and they said that after roughly four days of readings, it would be fine to take it off, that they would have enough data. Removing it actually really hurt and I think me and my super sensitive skin had some kind of reaction to the adhesive because it kind of looked like I’d been burned where the patch had been for a couple of days after.
Alongside the blood pressure and heart rate monitoring, there were a series of other tests but it was a while before I got the letter to tell me that they’d been scheduled. The first of the two appointments was in August and was a bit of a mixed bag as an experience. Despite the letter from my GP that said I’m autistic and have an anxiety and therefore need to have someone with me for hospital appointments, the receptionist almost didn’t let my Mum come in with me. I was somewhere between walking right back out and having a panic attack (said receptionist actually asked me if I was okay, which I thought was a bit rich) but fortunately it was all sorted out and after a little bit of time to collect myself, the testing went ahead. The doctor for this particular appointment (I don’t think I’ve seen a single doctor more than once through this entire process) was nice and didn’t rush me at all after the somewhat upsetting start.
The testing was fairly straightforward. They wrapped me up in monitors (I’m not going to lie – I kind of loved all of the hand ones for taking my pulse and stuff because it kind of felt like I was having superpowers measured or something, which was much more fun to think about) and then ran me through a series of tests: standing for certain periods of time, breathing exercises (which reminded me a lot of the warm up exercises I used to do during singing lessons), squeezing an inflated pressure cuff (my hypermobile fingers made this one pretty difficult), and so on. There was still the tilt table test to go but I had to come back on a separate day for that one.
Just like with the day of blood pressure monitoring, they didn’t tell me anything about the test results. Once they had all of the data from all of the tests, they’d call me in to discuss it all. I could understand that but it was frustrating when the whole thing was taking so long.
Late September, I was back at the hospital for the tilt table test. I was all wrapped up in the monitors again and they strapped me (not uncomfortably) to the exam table so that when it moved from horizontal to almost vertical, I wouldn’t slide or fall. Everything was fine while I was lying down and they got all of their readings and then they adjusted the table so that I was almost upright.
It took about twenty five minutes before I started to feel noticeably bad. Like, more than just not great. My hands felt numb and tingly, my legs were shaky, my chest started to hurt and I got very breathless; they let me take my mask off (everyone else was still masked and I’d tested negative before going to the hospital) but I was still breathing too fast, on the way to hyperventilating. While they had an approximate end time for the test, they decided to stop there; presumably they had the information they needed and I was honestly relieved to lie back down for a few minutes. I was breathless for a long time, my head hurt, and I was pretty nauseous. I had to sit for about ten minutes before I felt solid enough to get up and back to the car.
A week later, we were called in by the cardiologist to go over the results. It was a frustrating appointment: my information wasn’t there and we had to wait while the doctor called around and tried to get a hold of it all and then, when he got it, he waffled a lot without really saying anything so getting a clear explanation wasn’t easy. As far as I can tell, my heart rate goes a little haywire when I stand for a long time or exercise too vigorously. The cardiologist diagnosed me with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome and prescribed me Propranolol to help with the symptoms. I’m not sure we’ve managed to get the dosage quite right yet but it is now in the right range and has been helping a bit: I’m less dizzy and breathless although that hasn’t gone away entirely (yet, hopefully).
We had been offered more thorough testing at UCLH in London and we figured that it couldn’t hurt to have more information, especially from an institution that apparently has more knowledge and understanding, better resources, and so on. I was in and out of there for two days (ish), doing tests and helping them gather data on whatever weird thing is going on with my autonomic system. It was a lot but I was cautiously optimistic that what we learned would make managing the symptoms easier.
DAY ONE – We had to be there super early, which was a real struggle because the ADHD meds were seriously messing with my sleep, but I did somehow make it on time. Despite my doctor’s letter, the people at the desk and then the nurse didn’t want to let my Mum in with me. I was ready to walk out – I’ve been traumatised enough times by medical personnel that I wasn’t keen to add another tally mark to that particular chart – but Mum managed to talk to them and get them to understand. I was fitted with a blood pressure monitor, like the one from my first test, and gave me a diary to keep for the next twenty-four hours. It was similar to that first test but it required a lot more detail in the recording: I had to do certain activities at certain times, which were recorded by the monitor. It was quite a stressful and exhausting day, with the monitor bleeping continuously. I was incredibly tired (I fell asleep on the sofa more than once) and I struggled to keep up with the activities they wanted me to do – it feels like the ADHD meds have fried my brain somewhat. And then, because my sleep was so messed up, I didn’t get to sleep until after three.
DAY TWO – Waking up and get to the hospital for eight am was excruciating and the fact that I was only about ten minutes late was a miracle. Fortunately, they weren’t completely on time either. The testing that day was all done in the hospital, in one room, with one woman who was, fortunately, really nice. I spent most of the appointment lying on the exam table, hooked up to various monitors and performing different tests. Quite a few were the same as the first tests I did but there were some new ones too, like having my hand wrapped in an ice-pack for what felt like ages (although it wasn’t actually that long but my god, my hand hurt afterwards). She tried to draw blood for additional information but she couldn’t get a vein in either arm (I think that may have been due to the fact that I’d been lying down for a couple of hours at that point and so my blood pressure was weird but I’m not a doctor so what do I know) and that was uncomfortable with nothing to show for it but oh well; it apparently was a bonus if they got it.
The last part was the tilt table test and I wasn’t as affected as I had been the first time I’d gone through it but it still wasn’t pleasant. And after that, I was done. After lying (and then standing) in one position for so long, I was really stiff and my hip and knee joints were so sore that I could barely walk. I was absolutely exhausted. I made it back to where we were staying and fell asleep on the sofa straight away. I woke up for food (I hadn’t been able to eat before the appointment) and then went straight back to sleep. I was utterly drained and it took me a few days to recover fully.
Again, they didn’t have all of the results for me at the end of the appointment: those would go to the team meeting that was within the next two weeks and then they would call me with a plan, another appointment, or whatever. I think it’s safe to say at this point that my expectation of it taking more than two weeks was correct.
UCLH sent a letter with a brief explanation of their findings and a time for a follow up call where they would explain those findings in more detail and discuss next steps. That took a while to schedule because of other commitments so it didn’t happen until May.
It was a short call but the nurse was really nice and so knowledgeable. She ran through the test results and what they showed and confirmed the diagnosis of Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. She explained the effects of the Propranolol in more detail and said that I would be receiving an invitation to their next online meeting about managing the symptoms of POTS, which will hopefully be helpful. And on top of that, she gave me a few tips to try in the meantime. So it was a good appointment and I’m looking forward to seeing if her tips help and to the meeting, which should be within a couple of months or so.
So now I’m waiting to hear about the online meeting. I haven’t had many good experiences with sessions like these but I’m nothing if not chronically optimistic; maybe this one will be better. But just knowing that POTS is the cause of the symptoms is a step forward. And the Propranolol seems to be helping although I’m not sure that we’ve got the dose quite right yet.
I wanted to write and post more about Borderline Personality Disorder during BPD Awareness Month but I’ve been really struggling with my depression and changing medications and it’s all been a bit too much; I’ve found it hard to write anything at all. I’m still trying and hopefully I’ll have something BPD related up next week, plus I have a few other posts that I’ve started that I hope to finish and post in the not too distant future.
Category: chronic fatigue, diagnosis, heds, medication, pots Tagged: adhd medication, autonomic, autonomic testing, blood pressure, blood pressure monitoring, cardiologist, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, dysautonomia, eds, ehlers danlos syndrome, fatigue, heart rate, heart rate monitor, heds, hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome, iclh, medical tests, medication, neurologist, postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, pots, propranolol, tilt table, tilt table test
Posted on December 31, 2021
I’m not really sure how to sum up this year. It has been one of extremes, to say the least: anxiety, joy, stress, excitement, depression… And, at this point, I feel a bit like I’ve run out of capacity. For anything. So this was a hard post to write and it wasn’t helped by the dichotomy between most of the year and the last few months; I’ve found it very hard to look at each part without the other colouring it in some way.
The biggest part of my year was most definitely the final two modules of my Masters, which turned out to be my two favourite modules of the course, The Writer’s Voice and Major Repertoire Project. Having written about these already, I don’t want to repeat myself but I do want to look at them in the context of the year. From January to September, I wrote furiously and with such joy. There was anxiety and depression and stress – they were all in there – but it felt like all of that writing balanced the scales. I wrote so many songs that I love, that I’m so proud of, and that I can’t wait to release. While I did release new music this year – The Honest EP (Sunburst Sessions) – they weren’t new songs and I’m so excited to share new songs. I have lots of plans that I’m really excited about and despite the chaos of the last few months, I have been working on my next project. I’m very excited to share it in the new year.
I’m very proud of myself for completing the Masters, especially given that I did most of it during the pandemic, and I’m so proud of my final project; it is the best thing I’ve ever done and I can’t wait to get it out into the world. I poured everything I had into that project so getting such a high grade and then the Outstanding Student Award at Graduation felt really good. I feel weird talking about it but I am really proud of that achievement and the recognition of how hard I worked means a lot to me. Because of an administrative screw up, I’m not sure when my graduation will be official, when I’ll get my certificate – something that caused a lot of distress – but practically, it’s done.
My health, both physical and mental, hasn’t been in great shape this year. The chronic pain was really bad, the fatigue not much better, and the ongoing migraines are pretty miserable. My mental health was fairly stable and actually not too bad for the most part, until the last few months of the year. Then it got really bad. In order to try medication for my ADHD, I had to come off Phenelzine – the only medication that’s ever helped me – and then start Xaggitin. That went extremely badly. My depression all but overwhelmed me; it was the worst my mental health has ever been. I’ve stopped taking the Xaggitin and I’m taking Bupropion now and it’s different but I’m not sure if it’s any better though.
I’ve felt very alone this year, in regards to tackling and managing all of this. I came out of every appointment feeling angry, distressed, dismissed, or invalidated (and often multiple of these in various combinations). I haven’t felt safe with any of them; I didn’t feel like my existence even registered with them. So I’m finding all of that very hard and each new appointment is preceded by extreme anxiety, a kind of anxiety I’ve rarely experienced. It’s a bit like a fight or flight response. I’ve never had a great relationship with the medical profession but I’ve felt particularly let down this year. I have finally managed to get back to therapy (although this was before the newest variant threw a wrench in all of our plans) but it’s been a long time and a lot of stuff has happened; I feel like I’m having to learn how to do it all over again.
It’s also been a hard year, family wise. I haven’t been able to see one of my parents – in real life – since before the pandemic (for medical reasons) and that has been so hard. We talk on FaceTime and stuff and that’s good but I still miss her so much. And then, of course, my Granny died in September, just as I was finishing my Masters. At that point, I think, my brain just couldn’t take anymore; I don’t think I’ve processed any of it, to be honest. To a certain extent, I feel frozen, like I stopped while everything around me kept going. It’s not the first time I’ve felt like this but that doesn’t make it any easier. I’m sure all of those feelings will make their presence felt in the new year. But as hard as all of that is, I’m so grateful for the friends and family around me; I’m not sure where I’d be without them.
“What a surreal year. I don’t even know how to sum it up really. Everything I felt, I felt in extremes: stress, anxiety, depression, joy, excitement. I wrote songs that I’m so proud of, I hugged friends I hadn’t seen in months, I completed a Masters degree that I loved. I struggled with even more health issues, I was almost overwhelmed by the worst depression I’ve ever experienced, and I’m learning to live in a world that doesn’t have my Granny in it. The high points were so high and the low points were so low and I’m honestly exhausted right now. This year has been more than I know how to handle and I’m still kind of drowning but I’m also still here.” (x)
This end of year post isn’t quite the same as what I’ve done in previous years but it’s been a weird year and I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m experiencing some form of burnout. I have a few plans but honestly, I have no idea what the next period of my life looks like and that’s scary. I hate how my life goes on hold whenever I change medications and I feel more than a bit lost right now. All I can do is wait and see and after all these years, there’s very little I hate more.
Category: adhd, anxiety, autism, covid-19 pandemic, death, depression, emotions, family, heds, medication, mental health, music, treatment, university, writing Tagged: 2021, 2021 in review, adhd, adhd medication, antidepressants, anxiety, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, bupropion, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, coronavirus, covid-19, depression, eds, ehlers danlos syndrome, emotions, family, graduation, grief, health, heds, hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome, masters, masters degree, masters degree in songwriting, masters degree year two, medication, mental health, mental illness, migraines, pandemic, pandemic 2020, reflecting, reflection, songwriter, songwriting, stress, xaggitin, xaggitin xl
Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), ADHD (Inattentive Type), and Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS), as well as several mental health issues.
I’m a singer-songwriter (it’s my biggest special interest and I have both a BA and MA in songwriting) so I’ll probably write a bit about that too.
My first single, ‘Invisible,’ is on all platforms, with all proceeds going to Young Minds.
My debut EP, Honest, is available on all platforms, with a limited physical run at Resident Music in Brighton.
I’m currently working on an album about my experiences as an autistic woman.