anxiety · bipolar · Meds

Medication change update and state of mind.

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Medication changes might cause you to take dorky pictures. I still have trouble smiling. I don’t know why. It’s something I have to examine.

This damn thing has been going on for over THREE months! I’m almost off of Latuda. The titration down has been rough. The only thing that has reduced the side effects has been eating three hearty meals a day. It’s hard because my new med leaves me with no appetite. I end up force feeding myself. Not pleasant.

I don’t eat much during the summer months which complicates the situation.

My mania landed Craig Charles a bunch of T-shirts for his Birthday and an early Christmas gift. LOL! I’m cool with it. He gives me so much with his show and the tweets he answers when he’s not too busy. He doesn’t have to and Craig and his wife have been very kind to me. Sweet people.

I have gained some positives from the experience. A few days of absolute confidence. Something I haven’t felt in over twenty years. I hope to hold onto a piece of that when things finally settle down. I can’t remember when all this started. Mornings are interesting until I’m medicated. Nothing serious. Concentration is hard.

Events like this after over ten years of stability remind me that there is no cure for BiPolar. Just treatments for symptoms. That goes for all mental illnesses. One may think they are fine because the symptoms have gone away. The depression, anxiety etc. It’s always there. Medication may be keeping it at bay or effective therapy or change of living situation. You just don’t know what trigger is down the road which will bring it back. I just hope that it doesn’t happen for all of you.

I am lost at the present moment. I had plans to learn Italian. My lack of concentration puts that on the back burner. Will I be able to write again? Who knows…. Gonna have to wait for the muse to visit.

The screenplay I was planning on writing based on a Manga book has already been done. And it SUCKS! Always has to add some stupid female sex partner. SMH

Entirely missed the megalomanic tendency of the character which drives the story. Pity.

Still might do it for my own pleasure. Just to polish my writing chops in that medium.

There was a dangerous game being played as the adjustment was/is being done. A dangerous side effect Tardive dyskinesia:

  • twitching or uncontrollable movements of your eyes, lips, tongue, face, arms, or legs.

This is the fear I had with Latuda. I was on three meds where this could happen. It scared the shit out of me. I’ve seen it happen to a friend of mine. I was at a distance so he couldn’t see my reaction. It scared me and I wanted to cry. He saw a Neurologist and was able to stop the side effect as well as get off the med.

My pdoc before the one I have now, put me on Dry Vitamin E (dry due to my stomach issues so I would absorb it.) Part of me believes that this helped and I pray it continues.

All I can say is you have to make sure you understand the pills you are popping down your gullet. Read up on them and make it apparent to your pdoc that you are aware of their side effects etc. Don’t go into this blind.

Watch your body for changes and keep in contact with your doctor if something changes. Be aware of your body and your mind. Hard to do. Takes some time to learn. Achievable!

There has to be a level of TRUST. You must trust your pdoc and they must trust you to report changes etc. and to take your meds religiously.

As I settle down and begin paying some bills, I will have to mark this down somewhere so I won’t be caught off guard. Ten years from now I don’t want to repeat this crap. Hell, I’ll be sixty-one!!

 

 

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anxiety · bipolar · Life · Meds

Doing Better

Need an extra nap soon. Going to be up most of the night at a concert. My first BIG venue concert and I’m hoping I don’t freak. Gonna take my anxiety pill before I go and stay hydrated.

I talked to my therapist and she kept the printed out version of my blog post last time. I don’t even remember what it said. I just put it out there to get it out of my head and it’s gone. One day I’ll read all of this, just not now.

I get the feeling that I educated them as to who I am and what I would and would not do. I am not stuck in my therapy. That is clear, we agreed upon that. They thought I was isolating and staying indoors and away from people and seeing my mom every day etc.

This is after I was told by my Pdoc not to go outdoors in the sun because of the effects it has on me, because of my meds. DUH!

I told them about my physical limitation and how not having a thyroid causes anxiety and depression. So although the meds are doing their job, I’m still going to go through times of anxiety and depression as a physical manifestation. DUH!

I know their main fear is that after the inevitable death of my mother, I’m outta here too. I need to build my own life and I am trying. But it’s not as easy as it sounds. With the anxiety and depression.

My mom and I talk every day, but we have our separate lives too. Although I do have difficulty when it comes time to leave. I still believe we should be living together and still doing our own thing. But we are not rich.

I do what I can for her and believe she should never go without. She sacrificed so much for me to help ensure that I grew up with a good moral outlook on life. Done. Now I just want her to be happy and comfortable.

She’s allergic to the rug in her apartment, but there’s nothing she can do about that, it’s a senior living complex. Everyone has the same rug.

I have more inflammation with my Sjögrens. Nothing they can do about that. I think it’s the weather.

Mood wise. I’m ok. Not good. Not bad. Just ok. I’m dealing with everyday life and for the moment. I’m ok. I’m not looking any further than that.

I have to accept that people don’t change when they feel that there is nothing wrong with their own behavior. No matter how many times others have pointed out these faults. I’m talking about Asshole.

Patience is a virtue. Guess who’s VIRTUOUS?

Going down for the nap. Hope tonight goes well. I’m not Sally Socialite and I’m kinda stuck when it comes to talking about myself. Read me like braille.

My writing had a short start this morning. I got some things down when my neighbor started her noise again. Headphones are a must, can’t avoid it.

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.