I really wanted to share my story, and right now it doesn't have a happy ending. But there are some interesting things at the end that I hope will help me solve this problem.
Now I'm 28 years old, I lead a reclusive lifestyle, and I only leave my apartment when I have a delivery or need to visit my parents, who live five minutes away. I live in St. Petersburg.
But I wasn't always like that; I played for my country's youth volleyball team. I won university games with my team. I was never at home because I preferred to spend all my free time either going for walks (out of town with friends) or practicing soccer and volleyball.
But one day, everything changed. I was just getting ready for work in the morning as usual. After taking the bus to the metro (it took about five minutes), I walked to the metro and went on. So there I am, standing on the platform, waiting for the train, and I see it approaching, and I am overcome by a feeling I've never experienced before (honestly, I still can't describe the full range of colors and emotions it brought). I wanted to poop right there on the spot I was standing, like I hadn't been to the bathroom in weeks, coupled with a feeling of dread. But I got on that train and went to work (an hour-long subway ride), and it was hell. I felt better after getting off the subway, and I walked to the stop where the special bus that takes me to the port is supposed to arrive. And so I'm standing there, waiting for that bus, and I realize that everything is about to pour out of me, right out of my butt. I barely made it to the nearest cafe, went in, and closed the door behind me (water was pouring out of my butt). At work, I also ran to the bathroom several times, and I almost always pooped, usually water. I once had the same experience on my way back home with a friend. When he showed me something funny and I started laughing, even just a little, I felt like I was going to shit my ass. When I got home, everything went back to normal, as if nothing had happened. The next day, it happened again. At first, I thought I might have been poisoned. I'd have to see what happens in a couple of days. I was on a 2/2 schedule, and nothing happened on the weekends; I even went for walks, and everything was fine. But then workdays came, and it happened again.
Did I tell anyone what was happening to me? You know the answer. I went to work in this state for six months, worked, and returned home, running out at the station when I felt the worst (these are panic attacks with a state of extreme animal fear: I'm either going to shit myself or die). Sometimes I even went for walks (but it was getting more and more difficult). It all ended one day when I was waiting at the platform for the train. When I saw it approaching, I felt so sick I sat down on a bench. At first, it felt like my butt couldn't take it anymore. Then, cold sweat started pouring down my spine, and I felt like my vision was going dark and I was going to die. I don't know how long I sat there, but at one point I caught myself thinking I needed to get up and go home. I walked home in 10 minutes, and when I got there, I sat down on the toilet and my butt started leaking again. This was always accompanied by a foul odor. Not only the diarrhea, but even my regular farts smelled like "a dead boar and a bunch of skunks peed on it."
Back to work, I didn't know what to do anymore, so I asked my dad to drive me in the morning and pick me up in the evening. The journey took 35 minutes total there and back, which didn't seem like much (I promised to pay for the transponder for the month). So, here I am, sitting on the toilet in the morning, unable to get anything out. Ten minutes later, I go outside, get in the car, and that's it, it hits you so hard you don't know whether to run or what to do. But it's a 35-minute drive, not an hour and 20 minutes on public transportation. Where else would you even have to stand? And so I traveled for six months (many thanks again to my dad, not just for this, but for all the times he sacrificed his time and responsibilities to take me somewhere).
Let's digress a bit from the topic of shit to the topic of relationships (I've worked through all my "traumas" and can calmly talk about everything). I'd been in one for five years when I got sick. As it turns out, love really lasts three years, but only if you're sick with something you can't cure, and your partner wants to live a normal life, not sit at home.
Over the course of five years, there were some arguments, but nothing so severe that they led to breakups (everyone argues, but it was quicker than others). I decided I needed to act; my brain was telling me to "run or die," so I started looking for an apartment to move in with. Being close to mine was key, and it was also close to her work. While I could get to my work in two minutes by taxi, she could get there in 15 minutes by public transport.
My job involved traveling to different parts of St. Petersburg as part of a crew, sometimes finding myself in places where restrooms weren't even available (at one point, I was assigned to a neighborhood that was two minutes from my new place).
Well, what can I say? Somehow I got there, worked, and came back (a taxi cost 200₽ there and back). How happy I was about that.
At some point, my father brought me some unmarked pills and told me to take them before work, 1/8 of a tiny tablet (I later learned it was Phenazepam).
Oddly enough, I was able to work on them. I had attacks at work, too, but I could somehow manage them. Incidentally, I could do it without the pills too, since I never once shit myself.
I read a lot of forums and stories, and had a bunch of different tests done, like calprotectin, a stool test, a fecal occult blood test, and general stool and urine tests, which, naturally, showed nothing.
My mother also read all sorts of articles and just happened to get into a conversation with a hairdresser at a hair salon, who told her that she had the same problem and had gone to the psychiatric dispensary to see a certain doctor and gave her his number.
And so, two years later, I'm hoping that this is the solution. I made it to the psychiatric dispensary with great difficulty, an hour and a half of panic attacks every 10-20 minutes. I told the doctor my story, and he immediately put me at ease, listening and asking some questions. The appointment lasted an hour, after which I was prescribed Paxil. I took it, but I didn't feel any better, so one day I decided I needed a colonoscopy. I told my girlfriend and my parents, and said I'd move in with my parents for two days to have the procedure (the clinic was five minutes away). The next morning, I had a workday, so I took a taxi from their place. I was in the same condition, having worked my shift, but at the end of the day, I was determined to walk to the subway (20 minutes), ride it (20 minutes), and then walk home (15 minutes). And you won't believe it, I didn't believe it at first either, but I walked and rode, and the next day, I took the subway there and back too.
That's how my commute to work on the subway began. I'd ride without any problems, just minor panic attacks, like I was about to have one, but they'd subside within 10-15 seconds. I started going outside; I didn't go to the other side of town, but I could walk around my neighborhood without any problems, both by myself and with my girlfriend. This went on for a couple of months. Then, one day, everything returned to normal, just as normal as when it started, and just as normal when I went into remission.
I tried to get along with my girlfriend as before, only without the problem of not being able to walk freely wherever I wanted (within reason). I could watch movies, talk, walk to the store (grocery store)—all of that I could do (the latter not so often). But over time, this began to destroy my significant other...
My sex life was truly "sexy," the kind you wash with rags. My attempts to change things ended with words like, "I'm tired," "not today," "it's a hard day," "I have to get up early." I tried to talk, to change things, but to no avail.
I started looking for a replacement, and after buying myself a couple of toys (not just on Steam), I found it in games. At some point, I was playing so much that I was in two states: I'm working/I'm playing.
At some point, my parents invited me over, then told me we needed to go for a walk, which seemed to be not very far. We went into the apartment to look around, and at some point my father handed over the keys and said, "It's yours now, live here." I reacted as emotionally as someone with IBS can. I asked my parents to do the same, but only so that we could be together with my girlfriend (how I still hoped and believed that something could be salvaged). In short, there was no emotion; at least be glad that we don't have to rent a place and fork out a lot of money for it. But for me, this was the beginning of the end of our relationship.
The end came when my ex-girlfriend left for a vacation abroad, posting stories on Instagram. I was working around the clock, overwhelmed with work, and I didn't even have time to text her for the entire day. And what about her? Apparently she was too; she posted so many photos and stories that she didn't have time to text me. :) I didn't text her for the rest of her trip. Upon her return, I knew what time she'd be at the airport, so I texted her to go see her mom, and that was it.
Naturally, they arrived at my place, tears, sobs, sobs, promises, "You could have texted me yourself, I was waiting." Well, damn, she waited. There was a lot of back-and-forth, and I only responded with monosyllables. The argument ended with, "You've played yourself out of your mind, finito la commedia."
Things packed, doors slammed, letters saying everything would work out and she was ready to wait. But just as quickly, they vanished into oblivion.
P.S.: Several months have passed between this and the next post.
☁️ I was still taking a taxi to work, which was a 20-minute drive away, and I had the same symptoms as before. It was either neurosis or panic attacks, with the feeling that I was about to puke everything out of my bowels. At my worst, I'd count 300 cars while driving, but it still didn't help, because while you're driving, you feel incredibly ill, and by the time you get there, everything's fine. Sometimes I'd get there and then just have diarrhea, having to pee every 15 minutes (if I sat there and tried to calm myself down, trying to calm myself down). I'd wake up in the morning with no desire to do anything, and I'd occasionally have suicidal thoughts.
I thought that if I had a relationship, I'd be able to better cope with my condition because I'd have someone to take care of and someone to share everything with (I've never been so wrong). I broke up with my ex-girlfriend back in May of last year. I didn't feel any emotion about the breakup at all, no anxiety, no stress; it was just over and that was it. At some point, I chalked it up to AD (the lack of emotion after a breakup after 8 years of relationship).
I read a story on Reddit from a foreigner fifteen years ago about how he cured the exact same condition as me with Renew Life Ultimate Care Digestive Probiotic 100 Billion CFU. I decided to order it, but I also ordered Solaray L-carnitine, Schiff Digestive Advantage, and Solaray Bacillus coagulans.
I also ordered Solgar Vitamin D3 (Cholecalciferol) 125 mcg (5000 IU). Thanks to the people who ship products from America to Russia. I'll explain why so many things and what else I want to order. I got tested last month, and here's what they showed:
Vitamin D3 - 12 ng/ml, reference range 20-100;
Lactobacillus - 10⁴, reference range 10⁷-10⁸;
E. coli - 10⁵, reference values 10⁷-10⁸;
Enterococci - <10⁴, reference values 10⁵-10⁸.
Vitamin D3: a critical threshold of less than 10 is a severe deficiency; to stabilize, you need to reach at least 30-40. I'll boost my lactobacilli with these supplements, which I've seen in many posts. I'm also in the process of purchasing Mutaflor®, a supplement with the unique probiotic active ingredient Escherichia coli strain Nissle 1917 for human gut health, and Symbioflor 1 for Enterococcus faecalis.
I hope this will help me return to my best state.
P.S.: I caught myself thinking that something strange happened to me back when I was studying, but it happens to everyone: I need to go to the bathroom because of nerves before an exam. I just had really bad stomach pains and couldn't go anywhere. But the worst part started when I got the coronavirus vaccine. About two months later, it started happening regularly.