Posted on June 26, 2023
It’s been a long time since I did a Week In My Life post but I thought they’d be fun to revisit. I don’t really have typical weeks anymore – every single one looks different with all of the different things I’m doing and experiencing – but I thought that might add to what makes them interesting; the format remains the same but the contents will always be completely different. This was a super busy week because, on the Monday morning after it ended, I was flying out to Germany so I had to get a lot of stuff done; there could be no putting it off and my ADHD brain did not like that. So it was stressful and busy and chaotic but there were also some really cool, fun, joyful moments too. So it was an interesting one to record.
The week in this post started on Monday 22nd May and ended on Sunday 28th May.
MONDAY
I was up at eight thirty and pretty much straight out to the hairdressers to have my hair coloured in preparation for going to Germany (I’d had it cut the week before). I find it takes several days to settle, for the sharp lines to soften and the colours to blend together nicely. I get so used to seeing it faded (because it’s expensive to get redone – I often top it up out of a box but needed it to look particularly nice on this occasion so didn’t) that seeing it fresh and bold is shocking, in the best way. I love it; it looks amazing every time and I can’t believe that I ever considered doing something different with it (apart from wanting blue hair because who doesn’t). It makes me feel so much more confident; it makes me feel like me.
Back home, I got stuck into some admin work. It took a lot of effort because my brain really didn’t want to do it but I got the necessary emails sent, submitted my Amanda Tapping story for her livestream (which I wrote about in my last post in case you missed it), did some diary catch up, and worked on several upcoming blog posts. I feel like there is never any time to breathe anymore, like I’m always only just keeping up so there isn’t even a moment to stop and think before moving onto the next thing. It’s really stressing me out.
When I had a brief look at social media, Twitter specifically, because of it being Mental Health Awareness Week, all I saw were the usual vague platitudes, corporate statements that didn’t mean anything, and pictures of the royals going to various events. The whole thing infuriated me and I started ranting, tweet after tweet until the thread was barely coherent and I nearly posted it but then I stopped and thought about what I was doing. The thoughts were rushed and frustrated, it’s so easy be taken out of context when you have so few characters, and Twitter can be a pretty toxic place. So I saved the tweets and resolved to elaborate on the thoughts in a better medium, like this blog (which I did and it turned into this post.)
I spent the evening packing since I was going to London the next day and then went to bed relatively early for me, around midnight. But unfortunately, I couldn’t sleep, despite doing everything that usually helps (a routine I have long since refined); I couldn’t seem to relax, my whole body shaking. I was still awake at four, practically vibrating with tension even as I tried to relax enough to sleep. I’ve had sleep paralysis before and it wasn’t that so I don’t know what was going on; I just kept finding my jaw clenched, my hands in fists, and even my toes curled. It was hideous and exhausting.
TUESDAY
I struggled up at nine thirty, got myself showered and dressed, and settled on the sofa with my laptop. I had some more admin work to do, more emails to send, and so I worked through that list before taking a break and scrolling through social media for a little bit. Then I spent several hours working on blog posts and an academic paper about Taylor Swift’s songwriting that I had to submit before I left for Germany; the paper itself was already written but I had a list of edits to work on plus two re-recordings and a new album to integrate into the existing relevant parts of the paper. I don’t mean to be so cryptic but I don’t want to talk too much about the specifics of it until there’s more certainty surrounding the project; it still feels very up in the air, to me at least. But maybe that’s just because it’s the first time I’ve done anything like this.
Mid-afternoon, I had therapy. I don’t want to get too deeply into what we talked about; that is very personal after all. But we did talk about all of the things I had to do before leaving for Germany, as well as how I was going to handle the trip to Germany itself. Sometimes my therapist brings a friend’s dog with her, which is always a bonus. I love her and she loves me and we have some great cuddles, which are very good for balancing out some of the hard stuff we talk about. But no such luck that day (it’s fine though – it’s not like I go for the dog). We finished on time and I managed to get to the station in time to catch my train. It isn’t a long journey but I filled the time, working on blog stuff. I had to make every minute count with so much to do before the week ended and I headed off to Germany.
I got off the train at Victoria station to a very strange sight. I’d paused several feet beyond the barrier to rearrange some of the stuff in my hands and pockets and saw a man standing with a wheelchair and a dog. As I stood there, he encouraged the dog into the wheelchair and it jumped up, turning around and sitting down like it knew exactly what to do. And then, out of his pocket, this man pulled a lizard – a bearded dragon, maybe – and placed it on the dog’s back. Again, it was like both of these animals had done this a hundred times and knew exactly what they were supposed to do. And off they all went, the man pushing the two of them in the wheelchair. It was so surreal to witness. I got the rest of my stuff rearranged and headed for the tube station, fascinated that nobody else seemed to have found this a strange moment to be present for. But then it is London, I guess; everyone is very ‘stay in your lane.’ The whole situation was just so bizarre and I was very aware that I was probably watching something that I’d never see again.
Usually I stay with one of my parents when I do an overnight in London but she already had someone staying so there wasn’t room for me. I ended up staying with family friends – as did my Mum actually since she was was working in a school in London, starting early the next morning – which was really nice because I hadn’t seen them for ages. So it was really nice to catch up. We were all tired and had early starts so we didn’t last long (and had to create a schedule to get everyone in and out of the bathroom in order for everyone to leave on time, which I don’t think I’ve had to do since I was a teenager in secondary school). It took me a while to decompress and go to sleep but it was still quite early by my standards, thank goodness.
WEDNESDAY
I had to get up at half six to get ready, which is most definitely the earliest I’ve had to get up in years. I had a shower, got ready, had some breakfast, and headed for the underground. An organisation I’m a part of, The F List, which supports female and gender minority researchers in music research, particularly research that supports gender equality in music and music research was holding an event, The F List Gender in Music 2nd Annual Research Hub Conference, at my university and I was keen to learn as much as possible – my brain finds learning new things positively addictive, something that I don’t think is uncommon for people with ADHD – even if I was a bit nervous about how long I could stay focussed for. But fortunately that wasn’t too bad and they’d made accommodations for anyone who needed them, although they were very neurodivergent sounding accommodations (as it turned out, there were so many neurodivergent people there that I was starting to wonder if we were all members of the club). As they said on their website: “The F-List Research Hub aims to expand and better introduce the existing feminist and interdisciplinary collective of researchers, dedicated to evidence-led activism which aims to create an environment in which women and gender expansive people in the music industries will be able to more successfully start and sustain their music careers for longer.” And the theme was ‘identity’: “Identity is a central theme in feminist research, which sees ‘who we are’ intimately entangled with ‘what we research.’ The definition above is deliberately broad and (we hope) inclusive to all who seek to research gender issues in music.“
They ended up asking me to write the blog post for the event, which was really exciting. I would be taking notes all day anyway so I just added some extra notes about how the event worked, how everyone socialised, how things felt, in order to sum up the day accurately. We came up with a plan for what the blog would focus on and how long it would be and I played around with it in my head as I listened to the speeches and presentations.
Professor Sophie Daniels, one of the directors of The F List, the head of the songwriting program at ICMP, and my tutor for years, gave the keynote speech, which was really cool. This is what I wrote for the F-List blog because I’m not sure I could say it better: “After a bit of mingling, the day began with the Keynote speech from Professor Sophie Daniels, where she discussed, amongst other things, her career in the music industry, her founding of the songwriting program at ICMP, her artist project, Liberty’s Mother, and it’s associated advocacy work, as well as her research into why we write songs. I first met Sophie in 2014 and she was my teacher on and off for seven years while I studied at ICMP; so while I knew much of what she was sharing, it was really insightful to hear it presented this way, through the lens of feminism, particularly in the music industry and music education. Sophie has always inspired and supported me – as a songwriter, an artist, a researcher, a mental health and Autism advocate, and, ultimately, as a person – and so it was very special to watch her give the Keynote speech.” And it was: it was really special. I will never get tired of hearing ‘I Can Love You From Here.’ It makes my heart ache now just as it did when I first heard it eight years ago.
It was a lot of information but the presentations were short, about fifteen minutes each, which was the perfect length for my ADHD brain and each one was really interesting; I don’t know if it’s the neurodivergent brain but learning new things is always fun for me. The topics ranged from Trans and Non-binary inclusion in the music industry to support for those with ADHD in the music industry to exploring black feminism in the music industry to investigating the interwar generation of women composers at the Royal College of Music, as well as a conversation with the CEO of the Independent Society of Musicians. At one point, she talked about how badly the arts are treated and how they’re so important because they give life meaning: “They lie at the heart of what it means to be a human being.”
Oh, and I greatly enjoyed being introduced to this song…
I found all of it interesting – I really did – (although I did need some time in the quiet space because it was a lot of information and a lot of noise) but I think I was most engaged by the presentations on support for neurodivergent individuals in the music industry, by the one on the emerging trends in the careers of women in the music industry, and the one investigating the interwar generation of women composers at the Royal College of Music. I did wonder whether my Granny would actually be part of that group but when I worked it out, I realised that she wouldn’t have enrolled until after the end of the period of study. It would’ve been so bizarre if her name had appeared in that research.
When the presentations finished, we congregated in the attached cafe to socialise and network, which turned into a commemoration Tina Turner dance party, which was a fun if bizarre way to end the day. It was hard to leave: it was such a nice group of people plus I was dreading the long journey home. But it was a good day; I learned a lot, I fell into some really cool opportunities, and spent time with friends, old and new.
I did eventually make my way to the station and catch a train home. My Mum very kindly picked me up – I was beyond exhausted from so much standing and socialising and focussing all day – and when I got home, I went straight to bed. I had a look at social media for a while, decompressing from the outside world, before going to sleep around one, which isn’t bad for me at the moment.
One of the opportunities that came out of the day was the chance to do the write up – a blog post – of the day. You can find that here.
THURSDAY
I spent most of Thursday at my laptop, working on my Taylor Swift paper. I was really on a roll; I felt like the Kermit the Frog at a typewriter meme. I had already been writing and making progress with it but I hadn’t really managed to get on a roll until that morning and having finally hit my stride, I was having a blast. I was expanding on ideas already present in the paper and building in new ones; the only problem was that I was just increasing the word count and the task of cutting it down was looming. But I was enjoying the fun parts while they lasted and I vaguely resented being interrupted when I had to go out.
It’s been a really long time since I had my last appointment with my psychiatrist, although we’ve stayed in touch. He was in a new office – with a gorgeous view of both the Downs and the sea – and it was much nicer than the last one, which had felt incredibly medical and sterile. I like this one a lot more. And, in the waiting room, there was a painting that I instantly fell in love with: a seascape by a local artist called Sara Hill. I would love to own something like this, to get to look at it everyday. It was completely gorgeous and I found it very soothing to look at, which I suppose is fitting for a psychiatric office.

The appointment went well. My psychiatrist and I talked through my experience with the Phenelzine and what has improved and what’s still a struggle. I’d wanted to discuss increasing the dosage, which we did. It had been too much last time – I felt very overstimulated all of the time – but I thought that, given that I’ve been trying to climb out of a deeper, darker place, a higher dose might be what I needed to make it that extra distance. We talked through that idea – and how much I want to write more again, which I just haven’t been able to – and he agreed. And, proving how well he knows me after all of this time, he suggested we judge the effectiveness by how much I’m writing. Sounds good to me.
Back home, I tried to re-harness my previous focus on my paper and while it wasn’t quite as effective, I did manage to get another good chunk of work done. I even had some time to do a bit of blog writing since I doubted I’d have much time to write while in Germany, I needed to have something prepared for the Saturday at the end of the trip. By the time I went to bed, I was completely exhausted and my brain felt vaguely like I’d put it in the microwave for too long.
FRIDAY
Despite going to bed so late, I was able to drag myself up early for a very important Zoom call. I don’t want to talk about who it was with and what it was about yet, not until things are more certain. But it was a very exciting call and, all being well, some awesome life things will come out of it. That’s all I’ll say for now.
I didn’t have long until my next Zoom call so I spent about ninety minutes or so working on blog stuff. I just needed some decompression time and I find blog post writing very soothing for some reason; I think it just allows my brain to turn over an idea, over and over and over until it makes sense, and getting the words into a satisfying rhythm.
I had a really nice Zoom call with one of my best friends and we ended up talking for about two hours. We can talk about anything, from movies to the really big stuff in our lives, and we can talk for days without needing a break; we can just go off on these tangents that go on for hours and then we eventually backtrack to our original conversation topic, only to go off on another tangent. We have a lot in common and we have so much fun together. At one point, we tried to figure out how we became friends – having met on the MA – but we couldn’t: it seems that we both thought we were already friends and just skipped the whole ‘becoming friends’ part of the friendship, which is actually pretty on brand for us now that we are really good friends. I have no idea if that makes any sense but that’s how it is.
We hung up so that I could get ready and go to therapy. Again, I don’t really want to talk in detail about what we discussed but, in general, we talked about going to Germany, the things I was anxious about, and how I might manage them. I wasn’t feeling too stressed (which turned out to be ridiculous because I found the whole trip incredibly stressful) so it wasn’t too bad.
When I came out of therapy and checked my phone, I saw that Taylor Swift had made an announcement, the release of Midnights (The Late Night Edition) and the new song, ‘You’re Losing Me.’ Someone had already shared it online. Had the song been released somewhere where I could listen to it legally where Taylor would get paid for my purchase or stream, I absolutely would’ve done so – I’ve always felt very passionate about that – but since it’s only available on a CD one can buy at tour dates, I don’t feel bad listening to it online. And what a song it is; it immediately joined my 2023 in Songs post because I love it so much, especially the lyrics. I’ve talked about it more there (I’ll add the link when that post goes up in December) but the ongoing medical imagery is heartbreaking, the way the bridge just keeps building is one of my favourite Taylor techniques, and the imagery in the lyrics all had me absolutely hooked (I particularly love “Remember lookin’ at this room, we loved it ’cause of the light / Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time,” “And I wouldn’t marry me either / A pathological people pleaser / Who only wanted you to see her,” and “Do something, babe, say something / Lose something, babe, risk something / Choose something, babe, I got nothing / To believe / Unless you’re choosin’ me / You’re losin’ me”). It’s a gorgeous, gorgeous song and weeks later, I’m still listening to it over and over. So that was a moment to have missed because of therapy.
Back home, I went back to working on my paper. One of my parents stopped in for dinner and we had a good catch up before I got back to work. Then I had some decompression time, writing more of my Mental Health Awareness Week blog post before going to bed.
SATURDAY
I spent the morning working on my paper before catching a train to London. I used the trip to keep writing and then navigated the tube system to get to the Thin Air exhibition at The Beams near London City Airport. And it was absolutely stunning…
The exhibition was made up of several different rooms, designed by different artists or artistic collaborations. I didn’t like all of them but of the ones I liked, I absolutely loved:
It was really cool and I’m really glad we got to see it before it closed (while we were in Germany). I would’ve stayed longer if I could’ve but I still had so much to do and they do encourage you to keep moving through the rooms.
Then it was back on the train home and even though I was exhausted, I continued working on the paper and on the upcoming blog posts. I also managed to reply to some of the messages I’d been unintentionally procrastinating over, accidentally pushing them back in favour of getting more work done. So that felt like an achievement too. I was pretty much getting things done out of sheer willpower – something that absolutely does not always work but did this time for some reason – which I was very relieved by. Of course, so pleased to be on a successful streak and unwilling to break it, I ended up going to bed much too late.
SUNDAY
It was a very goal focussed day. I managed to get my blog post of the week – So That Was #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek… – done and published relatively early in the day and then I moved on to the piece about The F List conference. I had all of my notes from the actual day and I’d been making notes since then: thoughts that felt important to include, anecdotes that would make it more personal, and so on. I got that done mid afternoon, I think, and sent it off (they really liked it and it was published and shared a few days later).
Afternoon and evening, I packed for Germany. I was going to be there for a week but I am a terrible packer – I just find it really hard. I wonder if that’s an ADHD thing, given that it’s an organisation and planning based skill. Interesting; I’d never thought of that. I don’t know but possibly. I’ll have to do some research. Anyway, as I said, I’m a really bad packer (I once packed for five weeks in Australia two hours before I left for the airport – the dread and procrastination were so bad) so I struggled through that as a task. Eventually I got that done, with probably much more than I’d need.
I spent the rest of the evening trying to finish my Taylor paper. This edit was essentially finished – apart from one section, which I couldn’t work on until I got some of the literature they’d promised to send me (and now have sent me) – but it was way over the word limit and, as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get it down without cutting out significant parts of whatever point I was making or the evidence for it. But I kept trying and trying and trying, as well as tidying the whole thing up. In the end, around two in the morning, I decided that I would send it as it was and ask the organisers – all of them accomplished academics – for their advice on the word count. I’ve never done this before but they have; hopefully they can help me get it down to the required length without compromising the content on the next edit. So I stopped at two and went to bed, my laptop on the bedside table so that I could send it first thing in the morning.
It was a very anxious week: there was the pressure of trying to get everything done, the unknowns of the conference, and the anxieties around going to Germany. It was hard. But it’s also really nice to be productive again, to be working and producing, even if my mental health and neurodivergence do make that a struggle sometimes; over the last couple of years, I’ve been so paralysed by my mental health problems – by my depression and anxiety specifically – that I’ve barely been able to do anything. So just to do things at all, let alone the amount of things I’ve been doing, is kind of amazing to me.
Category: adhd, anxiety, autism, body image, book, depression, emotions, family, medication, mental health, music, research, sleep, special interests, therapy, treatment, university, writing Tagged: a week in my life, academia, academic, academic research, adhd, amanda tapping, art, art exhibition, art installation, asd, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, blog, blog writing, body image, conference, dosage, dose increase, exhibition, friend, friends, friendship, gender in music, germany, hair, hair colour, hair dye, hairdressers, immersive art, insomnia, installation, liberty's mother, light art, light installation, livestream, london, medication, medication increase, mental health, mental health awareness, mental health awareness campaign, mental health awareness week, mental health awareness week 2023, mhaw, mhaw 2023, midnights, midnights 3am version, midnights album, midnights album late night album, neurodivergence, neurodivergent, neurodiverse, neurodiversity, packing, pain, phenelzine, psychiatrist, psychiatry, rerecording, rerecordings, research, research conference, research paper, sleep, social media, songwriting, sophie alagna, sophie daniels, sound art, taylor swift, tension, the beams, the f list, therapy, thin air, travel, travelling, week in my life, wiml, writing, you're losing me, zoom
Posted on May 14, 2023
TW: Discussions of depression, suicidal thoughts, self harm, dermatillomania, trichotillomania, negative thoughts about food, and mention of a school shooting.
So, after months and months of resisting, I’ve started taking Phenelzine again. I was deeply reluctant for a number of reasons; after all, just deciding to take it again (and it didn’t really feel like my choice but one imposed on me by external forces) was an excruciating process and took a lot of therapy, a lot of talking, and a lot of misery.
I really didn’t want to take it. I knew that I would objectively feel better but I also felt like it would change a lot of really important things about how I felt about the world and about myself and that scared me. There were also things that I knew it wouldn’t change so there seemed little point in trying to feel better. So my feelings about it were a mess and sorting through them felt like an impossible task. But I wanted to go to Nashville and Phenelzine felt like the only way that that was going to be even remotely possible (which I still believe to be true, having now done that trip to Nashville). Ultimately it felt like a choice between two miserable outcomes and a choice I didn’t know how to make. And even though I did take it – and am feeling objectively better – I still feel angry about it, about feeling like I had to take it.
For the sake of clarity, I started taking Phenelzine on 10th March 2023 and this post covers the first two months approximately, documenting the side effects and the benefits. I thought about cutting it in half, given how long it became, but ultimately, I think it’s more useful to keep all of this information in the same place. And, as always when talking about medication, this is just my experience. Please don’t start, change, or stop taking any medications without the advice and support of a medical professional.
WEEK 1 (15mg once a day)
Nothing changed in that first week. I was desperately depressed (most days I was too depressed to get out of bed) and consistently, deeply suicidal; I just felt completely hopeless. I self harmed that first week, driven largely by my complicated feeling about taking Phenelzine again.
I had no energy and was physically exhausted but somehow still made myself get up and go to both my hydrotherapy and therapy sessions (I think that that, more than anything, was a lack of will to fight what I was being told to do), although they did, of course, make me even more tired. I had no appetite but I didn’t have any interest in food anyway. I would’ve ignored it altogether but my Mum pushed me to eat something everyday; even that was a struggle though.
The plan was always to increase to twice a day after a week or so but given that I wasn’t feeling any change and time was running out (plus the very important factor that I’ve taken this medication multiple times before and so I have a lot of experience with it), when I asked my psychiatrist if I could move to the higher dose slightly earlier than planned, he agreed. So I started taking 15mg twice a day after only five days.
WEEK 2 (15mg twice a day)
Physically, I felt pretty awful. My sleep continued to be erratic and terrible; I had pretty much every form of bad sleep that you can have. I was constantly exhausted during the day and so drowsy that I struggled to do anything; there were days where I managed to get out of bed only to lie on the sofa.
At the beginning of the week, I was still feeling deeply suicidal. I felt overwhelmed and hopeless and was deliberately self sabotaging: I was desperately avoiding food wherever possible (and then constantly feeling like I wasn’t trying hard enough); continuing to isolate myself; pushing myself too hard in hydrotherapy; and so on. Over the course of the week, the nature of the suicidal thoughts and feelings changed a bit. At first, I wasn’t sure if I was still suicidal but then, when I thought about it for more than thirty seconds, I realised that I was: the fears that ultimately drive my suicidal thoughts and feelings were still there and still really, really big, leaving me so completely overwhelmed that living felt unbearable. I was also incredibly anxious (if I had to put a number on it, I’d say I was consistently in the top 5% of my – very wide – spectrum of anxiety). I was practically living on Diazepam (not a good idea, I know, but I was just trying to survive) and even with the help of that, I was suffering from significant physical symptoms, something that isn’t usually part of the anxiety experience for me: I was nauseous; I consistently felt like I couldn’t breathe and deep breaths felt physically impossible, like the air wasn’t going into my lungs but elsewhere somehow; I also had periods where I felt frighteningly short of breath; my throat felt so tight that swallowing felt like it took ten times the usual amount of effort, like I had to concentrate all of my energy just to get food down; I cried a lot, something I hadn’t done much of during what I’ve been describing as ‘my depression coma.’ The looming Nashville trip was a particularly intense source of anxiety; just thinking about it made me want to curl up so tightly that every bone broke or scream until I disappeared from existence. These sound like poetic ways of saying I was anxious but they are literal descriptions for the deeply visceral emotions I was trying to cope with.
I could most definitely feel the Phenelzine starting to work though: I managed to write some bits of songs on a few occasions, which was more than I’d been able to do for a long time up to that point; I started engaging with social media again, although it was in a limited capacity and I really struggled with it; I went back to bullet journalling and to do lists, having abandoned those months earlier; and so on. Having said that, all of those things also increased my anxiety about life and about bad things happening, making my suicidal thoughts even worse. Alongside those literal examples, I also felt like my brain was moving faster, having felt so sluggish for so long, but that didn’t necessarily mean that that activity was… desirable. My thoughts weren’t more organised, weren’t making me more productive. Everything was moving so fast that it often made me feel sick; my thoughts were chaotic, making them hard to keep track of and making it even harder to concentrate than it already was. It was exhausting. But I felt like the lights were slowly starting to come back on. It wasn’t bad exactly but it was more than a bit unsettling because I hadn’t really realised that the lights had gone off – figuratively speaking – despite how bad things were.
I wasn’t sure if I was experiencing any physical side effects, especially since I was already struggling with exhaustion, drowsiness, depression, and anxiety. But there were a few things that could’ve been side effects: a few moments of nausea so overwhelming that I had to lie down until they passed; I also kept finding that my mouth was really dry, that I was drinking a lot more than usual, but it wasn’t consistent enough to be sure it was a side effect. The first time I took Phenelzine, I struggled with something akin to manic episodes and although I didn’t experience that this time, there were definitely moments where some of those recognisable feelings and behaviours arose; one of those was talking compulsively, unable to shut up as hard as I tried. It was frustrating but it was at least familiar and so I knew it would pass; I just had to wait it out.
WEEK 3 (15mg twice a day)
The last few days before Nashville were brutal on both my brain and my body. I was unbearably anxious: I felt completely overwhelmed, to the point where I couldn’t concentrate on anything; I felt like I could barely breathe or swallow; I was near tears for days. I tried really hard in therapy, ending up in tears, but I still felt like the anxiety was tearing me apart. I think that was part of the reason my chronic pain flared up again, from my neck down to my hips, and the pain was constant, regardless of any medication I took. It was awful. Other than that, I continued having moments of intense nausea, sleeping erratically (and feeling deeply tired during the day), and feeling generally unwell. I was also desperately frustrated by what, at that point, was most certainly the side effect of a consistently dry mouth; I was so thirsty, I went from barely drinking anything to the equivalent of multiple bottles of water in a day.
During those few days though, I had a conversation with a close friend, one of the few I’d managed to stay in vaguely regular contact with (for the previous few months at least). We were talking about music and I found myself enthusing about it, to a point that took me by complete surprise. It was disconcerting to feel that passionate about anything after so long without feeling anything like that, anything that strong. The sudden emergence of this feeling really threw me: my identity suddenly felt incredibly unstable and I didn’t know who the real me was, the depressed person who was wrapped in layers of cotton wool misery or the person on Phenelzine who loves music more than anything. It was scary and confusing and made me feel very unsure of myself, of everything.

Halfway through that week, I flew out to Nashville, the trip my main motivation for going back to Phenelzine. The flight was about as straightforward as they can be and my first few days there were pretty quiet, physically at least. It gave me some time to recover, which was both much needed and much appreciated; I was exhausted and the jet lag was really rough. The chronic pain was ongoing and I struggled against a migraine-like headache. The dry mouth was persisting and I was drinking water like it was going out of style. My anxiety was at an all time high. Between the flight, arriving in Nashville, anticipating the ten (ish) days ahead, thinking about all of the things that could potentially go wrong… I was so anxious that I honestly felt like I was going to be sick. It was excruciating.
It also feels important to mention that it was in those first few days in Nashville that The Covenant School shooting occurred. I wrote more about this and my feelings about it in my Nashville post and it doesn’t feel like this is a suitable post to rehash those emotions but it was very distressing and I found myself hit with a sudden flood of feeling hopeless and upset and even more anxious.
WEEK 4 (15mg twice a day)
That week in Nashville was A LOT, on so many levels.
I never really got over the jet lag so I struggled with fatigue and exhaustion throughout the whole trip. I started out at tired and within a few days, I’d reached exhausted and I fought against that constant physical exhaustion from then on (until long after I got home). I tried to be strategic – avoiding and minimising the walking and standing where I could – but there was still more time on my feet, especially in queues than I could really handle (but we’ll come back to that). Because of the jet lag, I slept erratically at best and terribly at worst and I was so tired that there were multiple occasions where I just crashed on the sofa and slept for several hours during the day. By the end of the trip, I was struggling not to fall asleep in public places.
The walking around, queuing for shows, and the hours spent in uncomfortable chairs was an absolute nightmare on my body, leaving me stiff and sore for the whole trip. My chronic pain hadn’t been great before we left but this was a whole new level of pain, from my neck to the soles of my feet (but particularly my back and legs). I could barely move by the time I got into bed each night, my muscles screaming, and I spent a lot of time stretching out my back and warming the muscles with my portable electric blanket, trying to ease the pain a bit but my back was wrecked by the end of the trip. I was also hit by one of the excruciating, spasming pain attacks in my back that had me unable to move and screaming until it passed. I don’t experience them as often as I used to but they’re horrendous when they do happen. So, pain wise, it was a pretty miserable experience.
In regards to Phenelzine side effects, there was still only the one that I was sure of: I was still constantly thirsty. All I had to do was breathe through my mouth for ten seconds or so before my mouth was so dry that I could barely breathe, my breath catching in my throat. I was drinking so much water, bottles and bottles a day and I could’ve happily drunk more.
My anxiety was, for the most part, terrible, especially at the beginning. I was so anxious – there were times that I honestly felt like it was going to make me sick – and there was just so much uncertainty, plans constantly changing and unfooting me; it was almost impossible to feel settled (a feeling that I always have in Nashville). There were days where it wasn’t quite as bad though: the good managed to balance it out, I got settled in various ways that helped me cope better, and then there were times where I was just so overwhelmed that I couldn’t tell what I was feeling, whether I was feeling anything at all. With so much to feel, sometimes my mind just seemed to go blank, like a defence mechanism, like feeling it all would just be too much.
That’s not to say that there weren’t good moments and good feelings. I spent time with lovely people, went to amazing shows, caught up with old friends and made new ones… It was good, if a lot to process: it was more than I’d been doing for months crammed into a single week. I mean, I had my first ‘glowy’ moment – a moment where I feel like I’m glowing with pure joy – in longer than I can remember, which was very special; they’ve been hard fought for over the last eighteen months. I was giddy for the rest of the night. I also went to a party despite a tornado warning (the first of some potentially questionable decisions, but I hung out with lovely people and had a good time) so it may be that I was more impulsive than usual, something I’ve noticed before when starting Phenelzine (on both occasions); it’s kind of fun but also feels like my world is tilting back and forth wildly. I did enjoy myself but there were also moments where I felt like those feelings weren’t really landing, maybe because they felt so weird and disconcerting after being so deeply depressed for so long.
Emotionally, I was completely all of the place. As I said, it was just so much to process. And by the end of the trip, I was a complete mess. In some ways, I was desperate to go home but I was also really reluctant, both to leave and to return to normal life. I was confused and conflicted and anxious, which I can’t imagine was made clearer by the pain, exhaustion, and mess of feelings that the early stages of Phenelzine creates.
WEEK 5 (15mg twice a day)
The flight home was okay and I managed to sleep for most of it, although it wasn’t particularly restful. And sleeping with my legs bent the way I did meant that when I woke up and I tried to walk, the pain my knees was awful; it made me extra grateful for the Meet and Assist. I felt okay for a while but then the jet lag crept in and, no matter how hard I tried, I could not stay awake. I ended up sleeping on and off all day; I was just so tired and sleepy and overwhelmed by everything.

Getting back to normal was hard. The jet lag was just as brutal travelling this way and I was completely exhausted; I kept falling asleep during the day, which only made my sleep schedule worse and it wasn’t great to start with. I made myself go to therapy and hydrotherapy, both of which were good to do in their own right given the previous ten days but also helped to physically tire me out. The pain in my back was almost unbearable, making it impossible to do much (although, arguably, taking the time to rest wasn’t the worst thing I could’ve been doing). And I was still so, so thirsty.
After two weeks of chaotic busyness, I suddenly didn’t have anywhere to be or much to do and that left me feeling weirdly untethered and lost and anxious (although it was probably good for my physical recovery to have that quiet time). With Nashville over after thinking about it for so long, I felt low and depressed and empty; it was a combination, I think, of the adrenaline and what I call the ‘Nashville effect’ (I always find myself feeling lighter and more open and joyful, even with all of the anxiety and mental health stuff – it’s been there on every trip) wearing off and readjusting to normal life and all of the things that I had to engage with and get done. It all felt very hard. Having said that, I did manage a very complicated journey to and from London to spend a lovely evening with friends, which was really nice, if exhausting. But even with the good moments, I was feeling so anxious and depressed with the consistent background noise of suicidal thoughts. With all of that clawing at the inside of my head, I found myself reopening the recent cut on my face and ended up making it worse.
WEEK 6 (15mg twice a day)
I spent most of that week struggling with some kind of virus or something. What started out as a sore throat and a cough turned into sore ears, tender glands, and a painful cheek and jawbone. It was pretty miserable – I felt overwhelmed and sad and kept bursting into tears – but I took a test (and several more throughout the week) and at least it wasn’t COVID. On the worst day, I was suddenly overwhelmed by nausea, breaking out in a hot sweat, and I had to lie down until it passed because my ears rang whenever I stood up. I felt so rough and exhausted by it that I fell asleep and slept for most of the day. After that, I slowly got better although that still involved days of general unwellness.
Sleep was still a struggle, including one night where I only got two hours of sleep. Even when I slept reasonably, I was so tired and sleepy during the day, which made concentrating even harder than it is normally. The pain in my back continued, although the severity of it slowly dropped to a low level ache by the end of the week. The desperate thirst remained too; I was still drinking so much water, which I’m sure is good for me even if the cause is annoying.
By the end of the week, I was starting to do things again – not at a Nashville level or even a pre-depression coma level – but more so than I had felt able to over the previous eighteen months. I saw family, hung out with friends, worked on music projects, exhausted myself in therapy, and pushed myself hard at hydrotherapy, upping the intensity; my legs cramped and shook but it felt good, like I’d done something really productive. I’d found hydro getting easier over the previous couple of weeks and I wondered if it was the Phenelzine, whether it was somehow allowing me to feel stronger in my body and able to push it harder. It wouldn’t surprise me but it isn’t something I’ve felt when taking Phenelzine before.

An added complication was the cut on my face. Having opened it up at the end of the previous week, I suddenly couldn’t leave it alone, tearing at it with my fingernails and making it worse and worse; every time it started to heal, I opened it up again. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop, couldn’t rid myself of that anxious energy. After several days, I managed to divert it but I only ended up doing a different kind of damage, chewing away the callouses on my fingers from playing guitar; I was almost down to the next layer of skin, which really hurt. The urge to tear at my face, to chew my fingertips, to pull my hair was just relentless and however I tried to repress or redirect it, it remained just as strong and trying to resist it just felt like it took more energy than I had (I mean, it’s always felt like that but it felt like it had gotten worse). I’ve struggled with the urge to pull my hair or to self harm for years but for some reason unknown to me, it had suddenly gotten much worse and much more damaging. It could’ve been Phenelzine related (my hair pulling started around the time I first started taking Phenelzine, given the timing, but I don’t know if there’s a connection – there was a lot going on) but I don’t know.
WEEK 7 (15mg twice a day)
My sleep started to level out: I still had nights where I only got a couple of hours of sleep but I also started to have a few nights where I slept deeply and heavily, which I was grateful for. But despite those better nights, I was still always, always tired and so often sleepy during the day. There were days where I was too tired to do anything and my struggle with concentration only continued. The back pain was still present but at a much lower level than it had been during and immediately post Nashville. And whatever illness I’d had seemed to have passed; all that was left was what felt like a mild cold. The sniffing was boring but perfectly manageable. And the endless thirst was becoming more normal, if still annoying. So even though none of it was wonderful, I guess there were improvements on all fronts.
My anxiety and depression hadn’t been resolved as much as I would’ve hoped, as I remember from previous experiences with Phenelzine (although that could be me remembering it wrong). There was more in my brain than there had been previously: I was having good moments and good emotions, as well as just more emotions in general, so the depression wasn’t so aggressively front and centre anymore but it was still there, still heavy and miserable. I was still having suicidal thoughts pretty consistently too, like uncomfortable static in the background of everything; all of the huge, awful, terrifying things that happen in life just felt completely overwhelming and I don’t want to live through them. That’s really hard to not feel. I felt fragile and overwhelmed a lot of the time. I was just so anxious about all the things I had to do; I felt incapable of concentrating enough for any of them, which just made my procrastinating even worse. I worked hard in therapy, trying to figure out some really hard questions, and I just ended up feeling really overwhelmed by everything; being more engaged with the world, being ‘better,’ just felt really scary.
Having said all of that though, I did manage to do things. I had a very long, very social day; I had a long work meeting on Zoom (which I absolutely would not have been able to do pre-Phenelzine); I hung out with a friend; I worked on music stuff; I pushed myself really hard at hydrotherapy. Plus, I released my new single, ‘House on Fire,’ which was a big deal considering that, during my depression coma, I wasn’t able to engage with music at all. The day went well although it was stressful and exhausting too.
The whole hair pulling, chewing my fingers, tearing at my face situation was not good though. I just couldn’t stop; my face and fingers never allowed to heal. The cut on my face was only getting bigger and typing on my laptop or playing guitar was super painful. It was a mess and I had no idea how to fix it.
WEEK 8 (15mg twice a day)
My sleep wasn’t great but it wasn’t terrible. I had bad nights, broken sleep and waking up exhausted, but I also had decent nights too where I slept long and deep. But, regardless of how I slept, I was tired and sleepy throughout the day, often struggling to concentrate on whatever I was doing; the intensity fluctuated but they were constant. I also found going to bed difficult, so anxious that I procrastinated into the early hours of the morning. This seems to be my new normal, or at least on the spectrum that is my new normal.

I was having more and more productive days but I was still really struggling with my anxiety. I felt fragile and overwhelmed, anxious about everything that I needed to do and everything that was happening; it made concentrating extra hard and I ended up procrastinating quite a bit, especially with the harder things. All of the hard stuff was persistently on the peripheral too. I worked hard in therapy and hydrotherapy too, exhausting myself; I was getting out of the pool, breathing hard and legs shaking. The chronic pain hadn’t faded entirely but it was down to an almost ignorable level, which was probably the best it had been for a long time.
The damage I was doing to my hair and fingers and face was ongoing, although I discovered that covering the broken skin with plasters or gauze and creating a barrier between them and my fingernails did help, slowing the damage and actually allowing them to heal a bit. That did mean my hair bore the brunt of that panicky energy, which painful for my scalp, shoulder, and elbow. Every time I try to redirect that energy, it just seems to find another destructive form, never one that doesn’t do any damage. It’s a real struggle.
I didn’t intend for this post to get so very long but between Nashville and getting sick, I wasn’t sure if I was accurately representing my experience with Phenelzine. I’m never sure how interesting these posts are to read but I feel like the experiences of taking these medications are important to share, to document. I’ve never seen anyone talk about taking Phenelzine and I’ve had multiple people reach out to me to ask about it; all of the information out there seems to be purely factual. So I wanted to make this first hand account of it available for people to get a sense of it, even if it’s only my experience and only this time, my third time taking it. On the two occasions I’ve taken it previously, I didn’t write about it because, the first time, I didn’t have this blog and, the second time, I was so depressed that I couldn’t write. Long story short, here is my experience of taking Phenelzine (for the third time) and I hope that, for anyone about to take it or already taking it, this account is helpful and informative.
Over two months in and I still don’t feel great about Phenelzine (for all of the reasons that I didn’t want to start taking it originally), as much as I can recognise the objective benefits. And with those benefits in mind, with my anxiety and depression still very present, I think that I need to try a higher dose in order to get the most out of it. It was too much last time but I wasn’t trying to come back from such a bad place so maybe I just need a bit more help this time. I’m waiting to hear from my psychiatrist and then I guess we’ll see.
Category: adhd, anxiety, autism, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, depression, emotions, exercise, family, food, heds, hydrotherapy, identity, medication, mental health, music, self harm, sleep, special interests, suicide, therapy, treatment, trichotillomania Tagged: anxiety, appetite, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, bfrb, body focused repetitive behaviour, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, concentration, depression, dermotillomania, drowsiness, dry mouth, fatigue, hair pulling, hydrotherapy, illness, insomnia, jet lag, lack of appetite, loss of appetite, medication, medication review, mental illness, migraines, music, nashville, overwhelm, pain, phenelzine, self harm, self injury, side effect, side effects, singer, singersongwriter, skin picking, sleep, sleep problems, social anxiety, socialising, songwriting, stress, suicidal thoughts, therapy, travel, travel anxiety, trichotillomania
Posted on August 6, 2022
TW: Mentions of suicidal thoughts and negative thoughts about food.
Back in May and June of this year, I tried another MAOI antidepressant, Tranylcypromine; it actually works a bit differently to the other MAOIs I’ve tried, like Phenelzine and Moclobemide, so I was hopeful that it would be the best of those and maybe even more. This one was a tricky one to get because it’s so expensive (a month’s supply is £300 – everyone I’ve talked to about it has asked if it’s made of gold, which made me laugh because that was my exact reaction) but fortunately, I have a great psychiatrist and a great GP who made it possible. I wasn’t in a great place but I was cautiously optimistic that this one would be better.
As is always the case with posts about medication, this is just my experience. Please don’t start, change, or stop taking any medications without the advice and support of a medical professional.
WEEK 1 (10mg Once Daily)
I was still struggling to sleep, not getting to sleep until after three in the morning, and then I’d sleep into the afternoons. I struggled to get up (probably due to both physical tiredness and my bad headspace) and doing pretty much anything – my week involved a stressful dentist appointment, multiple swims and hydro sessions, a meltdown, and more – had me falling asleep on the sofa as soon as I got home. And I was tired and sleepy all day, regardless of the hour.
I was very nauseous all the time and when I actually managed food, it wasn’t satisfying at all. So eating was tough.
The depression was solid, like it was darkening the edges of my vision at all times. I was also very anxious most days and I was really struggling with my concentration.
The chronic pain that had flared up wasn’t great but it was getting better. It was less than it had been and for that I was grateful.
WEEK 2
My sleep continued to be a struggle. During the day, I was tired and sleepy (and fell asleep on the sofa several times despite how wonky my sleep schedule was) but then I just couldn’t sleep at night. My brain kept going to scary places and nothing that’s helped in the past worked. I usually fell asleep sometime between three and five am and then I’d struggle awake in the early afternoon. I couldn’t shift it, no matter how hard I tried or what I did.
I was too depressed to do anything. I was completely paralysed by it. I was depressed and anxious and restless. I was struggling to concentrate. I felt overwhelmed and lost and hopeless. I was having suicidal thoughts again. I was desperate to distract myself from my thoughts. I nearly had another meltdown. I felt like something vital in me had been broken. I still do.
WEEK 3
Sleep remained the bane of my existence. I wasn’t getting to sleep until around five in the morning and one night I didn’t sleep at all (that was a particularly miserable day). I’d manage to wake up around three or so but feel sleepy straight away. And I was tired all day everyday but then I’d go to bed and just lie there, so anxious that my chest felt tight, so anxious that I couldn’t breathe; I just couldn’t calm my brain down.
I was still very depressed. Nothing helped, nothing made me less depressed, or made me feel better. It was so bad that I just couldn’t engage with anything; I felt trapped with my thoughts and it was horrible. And feeling like that, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I just felt like crying and screaming. I was also really anxious. And I just felt hopeless, my suicidal thoughts a consistent buzz in the background. My OCD also became more difficult to manage; the compulsions felt even more suffocating than usual.
Food was also really stressing me out. I wasn’t enjoying it and it doesn’t seem to give me any energy, which – in my head – meant that I was just gaining weight and the thought of that made me very anxious. I’ve never talked to anyone about my anxieties around food and body image because it always feels like there are more pressing problems. Sometimes it’s easy to ignore and sometimes it’s all I can think about and this was the latter.
WEEK 4 (+ Zolpidem)
After so much disrupted sleep, my GP prescribed me Zolpidem to hopefully get a handle on it. As a result, my sleep cycle became very erratic: some nights I barely slept at all, some nights I slept for more than thirteen hours, some nights I slept at a normal time, some nights it made no sense at all. But regardless of that, I was still tired and drained and sleepy during the day.
I was still feeling awful. I was depressed and anxious with almost constant suicidal thoughts. I felt useless and pathetic and I couldn’t stop crying. I just completely overwhelmed and utterly hopeless. Even the most basic engagement with the world was excruciating but hiding away hurt too. I ended up retreating from everyone, both in real life and over social media. As I said, I just felt completely overwhelmed and paralysed.
After a rough session with my psychiatrist, I came off the Tranylcypromine. That was fairly easy, all things considered, and I did feel better. Well, ‘less terrible’ is probably more accurate: I was less sleepy, which made things easier, and I had periods where it all felt a little less oppressive. I also got better at blocking the world out, although I’m not sure that’s done me in favours long term.
As far as my psychiatrist is concerned, my options now are to either start taking Phenelzine again – the one antidepressant that has helped – or to look at other options. My anxiety around going back to Phenelzine is that I will just end up here again, when the side effects become too much to handle. So it feels like searching for another option is inevitable (but then I’m scared that another option won’t work and I should just accept what the Phenelzine can do but… And round and round we go). I have been referred to the Treatment Resistant Depression clinic (something I had no idea existed) to discuss what those other options are and we are also talking to a private clinic, trying to get as much information as possible. But, as hard as I try, I don’t know what to do next. I don’t know what the right choice is and no one else seems to know either.
Category: anxiety, body image, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, depression, emotions, food, medication, mental health, sleep, treatment Tagged: antidepressants, anxiety, appetite, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, concentration, depressed, depression, fatigue, food, insomnia, maoi, maois, medication, medication review, nausea, side effect, side effects, sleep, sleeplessness, suicidal thoughts, tranylcypromine

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.
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.
Finding Hope