bipolar · Life · Long term Therapy · Meds · mental health · mental illness

The Journey

NaturesRespite

 

Some days it’s draining. Other days it’s indescribable. All you can do is hope to make it home to your bed and dream it all away.

I can’t believe it’s been over five months since my meds quit on me. Stability was something I had worked to achieve and I’m working towards it again. I’m seventy to seventy-five percent there. Work to be done in the spending department. Still feeling shaky in my hands. This angers me. My pdoc knew she was walking on shaky ground with the two meds I was on and I even warned her of the two prescribed at once.

(Yes, warned. You MUST take a proactive stance in any medical or therapeutic treatment. Know your meds. Know your ailment. Don’t follow blindly.)

She wanted to keep me on the two “shaky” drugs an extra month. I didn’t feel this was good for me because of the shaking and the possibility of a nerve condition as a side effect.

I ended up-titrating myself down earlier. This is my life and my body. Not to be played with by anyone. I felt secure enough that the other med had petered out and the new one was working well. Not recommended practice. It worked out well for me. Always titrate down. Never just quit a medication.

It will take a month to get the old med out of my system after being on it over ten years. I hope the tick goes away. You can’t see it, but I feel it and notice it when I type. This is irritating and keeps me from writing new poetry etc.

One thing mania has contributed to my personality has been confidence. Which I lost years ago. Failed relationships, verbal and mental abuse. I don’t want to go on with the list because I’m not in the mood.

Let’s be honest. All that crap adds to the journey of any person’s life. When you’re BiPolar or have any mental illness,  I feel we are a bit more sensitive to the damage. Things are mixed up after diagnosis and we can’t trust our own thoughts or decisions. This is a scary time. You second guess everything. Is it me? Or is it my illness? You don’t know who “ME” is anymore in the beginning. All you can identify with is the illness. This will separate in time. This is why I say ‘It’s just an aspect.’

Stability is the golden ticket out of there. Something to strive for and is actually obtainable. I use the term “Remission” if you have to use one to describe something that can be triggered by stress, medication or life tragedy. It really never goes away. That’s the reality of my illness. Stability is my remission.

I’m almost there.

Huzzah. Huzzah.

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bipolar · Life · mental health · mental illness · Self Image · Stigma

Friends and diagnoses

You may say you care.

You might wish me luck.

You may have the best intents but it just doesn’t show up.

Wish me well, understand.

Just don’t attempt to take me by the hand.

I know my position. I’m well aware of my affliction.

It’s not your position to help me get through my diagnosis.

Did I ask you? Did I beg you?

I was only throwing it out there trying not to persuade you.

Why did you run so fast? Forgetting that I am human.

What can I do from so far away when I’m the only one I’m ruining.

So I’ll keep my mouth shut. Keep it simple and sweet.

We won’t get too deep because the Stigma scares you more than your own contradictions.

bipolar · Meds · mental health · mental illness · Sjogren's Syndrome

Coffee and Lithium

I know it’s late. But I’m bidding on eBay.

I am currently on three meds to control my cycling and mania. It’s a bit dangerous and I don’t like it one bit. But my pdoc is watching me and I see her in a week or so.

My mania has decreased. It pisses me off that my pdoc didn’t recognize that the reason the new med didn’t control the mania was due to the med I take for my Sjogrens Syndrome. Something I’m going to have to ream her about.

My thinking is clearer and the friends I had in my head are slowly disappearing. Which is kinda sad because now I am truly alone.

Reminds me of Lithium by Nirvana. Yeah, I  guess that’s where I am.

Lithium – Video

Lithium

I’m so happy because today
I’ve found my friends
They’re in my head
I’m so ugly, but that’s okay, ’cause so are you
We’ve broken our mirrors
Sunday morning is every day for all I care
And I’m not scared
Light my candles in a daze
‘Cause I’ve found god
Hey, hey, hey

I’m so lonely but that’s okay I shaved my head
And I’m not sad
And just maybe I’m to blame for all I’ve heard
But I’m not sure
I’m so excited, I can’t wait to meet you there
But I don’t care
I’m so horny but that’s okay
My will is good
Hey, hey, hey

I like it, I’m not gonna crack
I miss you, I’m not gonna crack
I love you, I’m not gonna crack
I killed you, I’m not gonna crack

I like it, I’m not gonna crack
I miss you, I’m not gonna crack
I love you, I’m not gonna crack
I killed you, I’m not gonna crack

I’m so happy ’cause today
I’ve found my friends,
They’re in my head
I’m so ugly, that’s okay, ’cause so are you,
Broke our mirrors
Sunday morning is every day for all I care,
And I’m not scared
Light my candles in a daze
‘Cause I’ve found god

Yeah, yeah,
Yeah, yeah,
Yeah, yeah,
Yeah, yeah,
Yeah, yeah,
Yeah, yeah, yeah

I like it, I’m not gonna crack
I miss you, I’m not gonna crack
I love you, I’m not gonna crack
I killed you, I’m not gonna crack

I like it, I’m not gonna crack
I miss you, I’m not gonna crack
I love you, I’m not gonna crack
I killed you, I’m not gonna crack

 

anxiety · bipolar · depression · Life · Meds · mental health · mental illness

For just a Millisecond…

 

There are twenty-four hours in a day. Fact. Within each hour I struggle to hold it together until stability lays itself at my feet once again. Within each hour there are seconds and milliseconds that clash with thoughts and emotions that swirl within my mind as I try and piece it all together into something I can call survival.

I try not to let this overwhelm me. I breathe, I distract, I medicate and detach myself from others so I won’t say or do something I will regret later. My tongue is sharp and my anger, angst, irritability shows when in the company of my family.

I apologize.

I may not be able to say that word enough or at the right time. But it is felt within my heart. For each short tempered moment and each barbed quip.

It is for these reasons I hate medication changes. I get ten years of something working well and then it fails me and I have to start from some lost place and hope to get back to somewhere where my only worry is what to do and not what my mind is doing.

My mother came by yesterday. It was a mixture of nerves and happiness. These feelings weren’t her fault. She did nothing wrong. It was all me. I knew I had to care for someone besides myself and I was overwhelmed. That is the answer to many questions in my life. Overwhelmed. Just holding it together is overwhelming. And that’s with medication that is faltering.

It has taken me so many years to get to a place of stability and to feel it teetering scares me.

I just wanted to lay calmly in bed today. I had taken my meds and played a few games on my phone to ‘distract.’ Napped a little and became agitated while listening to some CDs.

I just want peace and quite right now. I want to be alone. I need an adjustment on my present dosage of new medication. But my appointment is two weeks away.

I’ll be ok. I have to be. There is no alternative.

I can’t deal with other people’s lives and faults at this moment. It’s taking all I have to knit myself back together.

I want to do so much. I have so much to offer, I know this and have always known this somewhere inside. But I lack self-esteem and self-worth.

So I sit in front of my light-box and type this to relieve some of the thoughts rambling through my head. Today will be slow and so will tomorrow. I’ll go to therapy and then retreat back to my home to lick my wounds from stepping out the door.

It’s so hard to socialize and take the risks of not feeling safe.

I feel like I walk through a hurricane each day without protection. Each moment is a struggle and I fight against the wind and rain, but I continue to walk forward because I have no choice. There is some shelter in medication and therapy and I gratefully take them in as they ease the gale forces momentarily.

I step out into the storm again and take each millisecond and knit it into the next and hope to create something I can recognize as survival. Until I finally reach home and some state of stability.

How can you tell someone who lives each day like this too ‘shake it off?’

I will never understand that mindset. And they will never understand mine. I accept this and continue without their approval. Because I don’t need it.

 

anxiety · bipolar · depression · Meds · mental health · mental illness · social anxiety · symptoms · Thoughts

Is it the weather or not?

Rain and snow and high winds for the past few days. Not sure if nature isn’t cycling as well. Had to start the Trileptal a few days earlier. I felt awful. My head was just feeling like it was working on triple AAA batteries when it was designed for AA.

Feel much better this morning. I tend to respond to meds pretty fast. I can tell if it’s gonna work or not in a day or so. This seems like a fit for me. May need an increase in dosage, but time will tell.

I have the opportunity to get a therapy dog. I don’t feel this is the right time to be making this type of decision. Seeing other people leave their dogs droppings in my front lawn just irks me. I’ve always had a dog and I never did that, it’s disrespectful.

The opportunity for a therapy dog is sweet. But I don’t think I’m ready to give up my freedom. Plus there are my physical limitations. Chronic pain and swelling knees. The responsibility would fall on “ME” alone. I can remember thinking my dogs always deserved a better owner. One who could care for it up to the standards they deserved.

The monetary responsibility is the main one. I simply can’t afford it now. Maybe one day. Too many bills. Shame.

I don’t think I could walk a dog through the snow anymore. The rain and winds cause pressure on my sinuses. As I said, my dog would deserve better. God forbid if they got sick. Like my last dog did. I still mourn her loss.

One day I will have one just not now.

anxiety · depression · Long term Therapy · Meds · mental health · mental illness

Chocolate and new meds.

I haven’t had a med change in almost ten years. I realize that these meds for stability only last about ten years. I wish I was counting and I could have seen this coming. I’m tired. My anxiety is crazy. I want sweets. I want death. I know this will pass but for the moment its hell.

No one to talk to who won’t freak out. If I had chocolate this would all be easier.

I have to add another dose next week. Yesterday was easier. I just need things to be what they were before the confusion. I don’t want to leave the house. Back into the darkness.

anxiety · bipolar · Cancer · depression · Life · mental health · mental illness · Sjogren's Syndrome

STUCK! NOT!

Today I was told that I was “stuck” in my therapy. That my anxiety was ruling my life. I have reasons for that anxiety. Every time I take a risk, I have gone one step forwards and then I am knocked backwards two steps back. So, why bother with even trying. I’m getting too old for this and the damage from these encounters only makes it harder for me to function day to day. So I protect myself by avoiding situations where the same thing could happen again.

They want me to go to an intensive program for a few weeks and then come back.

I was super anxious about my mother’s upcoming cataract surgery. It’s hard enough just holding it together on a day to day basis. Distracting negative thoughts and fighting depression and the messages of self-hatred. It’s exhausting. For four weeks I’m gonna be more of a caregiver than I am normally. This builds added anxiety for me. I talked to my therapist and I was able to work past that hurdle.

Now they add this shit on my plate. MORE anxiety. You get rid of one and decide I could be doing so much better if I were more social. That you want to send me away and put me in some type of program. I am now making a mountain out of a molehill. Last time I was put into some type of day program. I was frightened because the majority of the participants just straight out scared me. Not because of their illnesses, but because they were men and I had been molested as a child and hadn’t dealt with that aspect yet.

Whenever I get into group therapy settings, I ended up facilitating the group instead of the facilitator. And when I try to turn that around and don’t talk until it’s my turn and ask for help, no one is able to help me. So group doesn’t work for me. My Pdoc said in that situation I should be happy just to be able to have helped someone. Fuck that. When do “I” get the help “I” need in that situation? Yeah, I’m happy I could help you, but where does that leave me? How does that help me towards stability?

They spring this on me two months before my mother’s surgery. It’s not the surgery I’m concerned about, it’s her reaction to the medication she has to take BEFORE and AFTER the surgery.

She’s on Letrozole for her cancer. She’s cancer free and has two more years of this stuff. The side-effects for her are exhausting. Foods and odors and medications cause her to have reactions that shoot through her body, from head to toe and last a long time. She has to drink lots of water and milk to calm her stomach and wash it out of her system. And then sit down and calm her nerves and her heartbeat. I understand this but her doctors seem to just ignore her remarks. I know and she knows that she has no choice but to finish off the last two years. The alternative is that cancer could come back, so there is really nothing anyone can do but put up with this.

This is where the anxiety comes from. I feel for her, it’s called empathy. And she’s my mother.

As I said, I got over that anxiety. But there are reasons I’m not a social butterfly.

I feel like I’m being judged by other people when I go out. OK, paranoia. I dismissed this and just started to feel comfortable and safe at one place. When this person decides to validate this fear by looking me up and down with an expression on her face like she smelled something bad. The stink face.

I didn’t smell. I was neat and clean. But she looked at me like I was beneath her. Judging me. Situations like that keep me from taking the risk of ‘being social.’ I could have said something, but out of respect of the people and the building, I kept my mouth shut.

I was walking down the street and some guy who decided I was in his path and didn’t want to move over his way mumbled that I was a fat fuck under his breath. I yelled “Fuck You” and continued on my path. Judgement. More justification of my mindstate.

I take the leap into a relationship and it turns out to be verbally abusive and almost physically. So I’m not heading down that track anytime soon.

Then there’s the chronic pain. If you hug me, it hurts. Sometimes even the slightest touch hurts. My knees swell when I walk and sometimes my leg drags if I walk too long. I fight through it and keep walking. It goes away, but the next day I suffer. My body is exhausted and I struggle to move around. I’m one day up and one day down. This is constant. Right now I am in pain. The weather has a lot to do with how I feel. Trying a new vitamin, hope it helps. This is my manifistation of Sjögren’s Syndrome, the joint pain etc.

This is a factor in my ability to be social. But I have no cane. I don’t talk about it to anyone but one friend who is in the same boat. No one wants to hear that all the time.

I can’t dance anymore. I can’t run. I can walk, so I am grateful. So my rant is over. I was very upset at the start. I might go to the program, just not now. November when everything is over and I have fewer worries.