Daily Archives: March 24, 2014

Anxiety Week

This week I am going to focus some attention on something I happen to know a lot about firsthand: ANXIETY! Apart from having bipolar disorder, the rest of my diagnosis is based around different types of anxiety, specifically obsessive-compulsive disorder, panic disorder, social anxiety and a mild case of agoraphobia.  Last week I happened to see someone criticizing someone else on Facebook who had admitted to having panic disorder.  The “remedy” for this person was to simply “Buck up and do what you have to do” followed by “Everybody gets nervous.  You have to deal with it.  You think that is something new to people?  Folks just used to deal with it.”
At first, these remarks angered me quite a bit.  I had to fight the urge to butt into this online conversation and say some things that may or may not have included “you stupid idiot!” But, after I calmed down, I began to think about this a little more rationally.  The truth is, most people know what anxiety feels like, but not everyone knows what it’s like to have an anxiety disorder. And that’s the real kicker; when you hear the word anxiety you think oh, that’s normal, just take some deep breaths and get over it, but to have an actual disorder in this area means the normal reactions and remedies don’t necessarily apply.  If you are familiar with the fight-or-flight response then you know that your body goes through certain physiological changes when faced with a potentially harmful situation.  Under the right circumstances, these changes can be helpful as they equip you with the energy and alertness to protect yourself. Fighting off a mugger or leaping out of the way of a car in just the nick of time are two examples of a good fight-or-flight response. But in some people (approximately 18% of Americans), this fight-or-flight response tends to show up at some really inappropriate times.  If I am sitting on the sofa watching a comedy, I personally don’t think my body needs to prepare for attack, but sometimes it does anyway.  And, while a little anxiety can fuel your efforts to do well on a test or give a speech, a lot of out-of-control anxiety can make even the most basic tasks of daily life difficult.  For some, certain memories or social situations will trigger a sense of panic and lack of control.  Some people have an irrational fear of something (like a snake or closed in areas) that alter the places they are willing to go.  Some people get physcially ill at the mere thought of leaving their house.  These are just a few ways anxiety goes from being a normal every day response to something that creates a problem where there shouldn’t be one.  
Each day this week I will address a different anxiety disorder in hopes that it will educate someone about what it really means to suffer from one.  But for now, I will tell you what it does not mean: It does not mean you are weak.  It does not mean you will never get better.  It does not mean you deserve the ignorant comments you will receive from time to time.  It does not mean you have reason to give up.  I know how hard it is to combat unruly anxiety.  Just when I think I have it beat, or at least subdued, it seems to come back full force.  Sometimes I notice the triggers and sometimes I don’t.  Every day is a new trial of what works and what doesn’t.  While I love a lot of the quotes that can be found regarding regular anxiety, I find that most of them don’t really apply to things like OCD and panic attacks.  One quote I do find helpful is from Mark Twain: “Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear – not absence of fear.”  It takes courage to live through a panic attack when every cell in your body is trying to convince you that you are dying from a heart attack.  It takes courage to relive flashbacks of violence or neglect.  It takes courage to listen to the internal dialogue of OCD and have the constant fear that you will do something bad or someone you love will die because you didn’t wear matching socks that day. It takes courage to go through all of these things and so much more.  Our goal is to resist those fears, to master them so they no longer rule over us every second of the day.  It may feel like an impossible task, but I am certain that it can be done.  However, these disorders take a more aggressive treatment than just being “nervous” does.  

At Peace at the Ocean

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My partner Louie and I just spent a week at the ocean about 3 hours west of Seattle and a bit north along the coast. We went to a little town called Moclips, right next to the Quinalt Indian Nation lands. We had a full week of sunny weather and no rain with just a bit of  breeze at times to keep the air moving, as it always does near the sea. It was a peaceful time.

I spend so much time writing about hard stuff in this blog that I thought maybe it was time I wrote about how well my life is going right now. I’m stable, for the most part, with my Bipolar Disorder and my back is in decent shape except for a twinge or two now and then lately. It went out on me a few weeks ago but it seems to be OK now, I hope.  It’s much easier when I’m not in such pain all the time.

It’s been very nice here in Seattle too lately, with sunshine and clear weather, tho it’s supposed to go back to rain again tomorrow. I hope I can get some w0rk done on the veggie garden today before that happens. Louie is out of town for a week at a funeral so I have the house to myself, a mixed blessing. I miss him a lot but I’m getting a lot done too so it’s a trade off I guess.

Spending time at the sea near the Rain Forest was an incredible experience. I never feel so close to a sense of divinity as when I’m at the forest or some other wild place on earth. It just feels like I’m in my Temple and it’s all the spirituality I need to stay solid in my sense of connections with all life on the planet and beyond it. It’s easy to feel connected in a rain forest.

It’s so truly primeval and primal in it’s lush growth and fullness of life. There are creatures growing everywhere you step or look and it’s OK because the Forest Service has built in some nice trails that let you be able to go into the forest because it’s so dense and not hurt things. It isn’t a place to just wander in the woods at all. You have to cut your way thru and that’s not something I like to do. I prefer to find old animal trails and follow them. If I do it at all.

Being with trees that are hundreds of years old is a remarkable experience. It really puts your own life in perspective. We matter so very little in the great scheme of things yet to ourselves we’re all we have and must make the best of our lives while we have the chance. I don’t believe in reincarnation or an afterlife, and believe we have to make the best of the time we have here on the planet to make a good life and be good people.

When I’m stable like this and not wandering all over the place in my mind I can truly appreciate the wonders of the natural world. I can slow myself down enough to listen to the woods and the sea. Really listen and hear what the voices of the land and ocean have to say to me. Mostly I get that I am a part of all this and that my presence would go unnoticed by those creatures of the forest and so I try to leave it as I found it so no one will know I’ve been there.

As they say – take nothing but photographs and leave nothing but footprints. That’s the way I do it. Of course along the beach the sea covers your tracks almost immediately after you leave them but in the rain forest they could last for awhile, til the next rain comes and washes them away. It makes one’s visit seem very transitory to these ancient beings who inhabit this land.

We saw the world’s largest Spruce tree and some of the other large trees of the rain forest area in this valley we went to. See: http://gardeningingreenwood.wordpress.com/2014/03/18/trees-of-the-rain-forest/ for more information on the specifics of these amazing trees and how many of them are in this valley. It’s an ancient land and largely untouched by human hands.

Being with these huge and ancient trees always makes me feel humble and insignificant. The stories these trees could tell if we only knew how to listen to them. I “hear” them talk to me all the time and always have, but I question whether or not it’s the trees or just my mind that is talking to me. I don’t really care. I get good information from them and they help me stay sane so it’s all good to me.

Whether or not it’s actually the voices of the land or sea or trees or birds or animals talking to me doesn’t really matter to me if they seem to be reasonable and tell me useful things. When they just goof on me and tell me stupid things I’ve had to learn that sometimes the voices in my head are just that – voices in my head.  I should ignore them. But the good ones I listen to and get good help on occasion. Why not?

This last week at the ocean gave me a much needed break from my usual reality of chores around the house and working in the garden, as much as I love to do that, and just from city life for a little while. It’s so beautiful there and I could hear my thoughts and those voices in my head were mostly kind to me and gave me solace instead of grief as they do so often. At the ocean it was all about the natural world and I am clearly a part of it.

This is so important to me when I tend to lose it so badly at times and feel so disconnected with life. It’s impossible not to feel connected with it when you’re in the midst of such riotous abundance of it like you find at the rain forest. Life is just so full and rich there and it’s easy to wonder how humans fit into this harsh environment.

But really it’s not that harsh as it seems. The Indian communities along this coast always had plenty of food to eat from the sea and had time to make beautiful works of art that they used to decorate their ceremonial places and their own bodies. They had give-aways where they shared the wealth among them and always took care of the lesser members of the tribe. It’s a bountiful area to live in til the white man came and took so much of it away.

I won’t go into that now because it’s too painful for me. I feel a deep resonance with Native cultures and always have. I learned many of their ways studying with a Native medicine person for many years and learning the ancient ways of his people. It helped me a lot but I had to leave in time and I stayed as long as I should have and needed to find my own path again.

I’ve done that now, tho I tend to fall off of it now and then, as I write about here so often. But as I said this post is about how well I’m doing and I want to end with that part of it. It’s not often that I can write such a positive piece as this one so it’s kind of a big deal to me. I go up and down so often with the bipolar and the pain and all the rest of it, that to find a moment of peace is worth a great deal to me. I’m grateful I had this time.

Thank you Mother Ocean,

Steve


Filed under: Bipolar, Chronic Intractable Pain, Emotions, Faith, Illness, Mental Health, Pain, Peace, Relationships Tagged: Bipolar, chronic intractable pain, Invisible Illness, mental-health

Hypomania …the good, the bad and the bloody ridiculous



How I ended up being escorted to the doctors by my care coordinator and having to take medication in front of her to make sure I took it, to "calm me down", I don't know. Well, actually I do know and I'm feeling pretty stupid and pretty scared.  I guess I'm quite fortunate in that I have reasonable insight into my moods. That doesn't mean I can control what I'm feeling or always immediately do anything about it but at least I recognise when things aren't quite right. I think so anyway.

I felt myself getting more and more hyped up over a few days. It's difficult to describe. I know I was hypomanic. I know all the signs. I know I was building up to it.  A lot of people think of hypomania as being happy and full of energy and creativity and a good state to be in. Not so for me. Yes at times I felt happier than I have done for months, elevated, excited even but not always appropriate for the situation. The twitching, the irritability, the nervous energy, the thoughts and ideas scrambling about in my head, the frustration. It was bloody hard work. Yes, I did find myself being more creative. I've been doing some drawing, something I've wanted to do for months but whenever I tried it just turned out crap. Even that, though enjoyable was born out of a sense of urgency. I felt that once I'd decided to do it I had no choice. I produced some really good pictures. I even wrote some poems. I never write bloody poems! I've never even wanted to but again the ideas popped into my head and I just had to do it.
I bought a guitar. I've often thought about learning to play an instrument. Well there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. What was wrong was the fact that I've no idea why I thought I needed a guitar....yes  "needed" a guitar. I had an uncontrollable urge to buy it. Even though I haven't got a spare £100 to spend I couldn't rest until I'd bought one. I don't really know what on earth I thought would have happened if I didn't buy it but I just had to have it.
I found being on my own more difficult than normal and wanted to be near people yet when I was with anyone it was such hard work to try and curb my behaviour. As soon as I got near anyone I couldn't seem to contain my excitement and I couldn't keep still, or shut up. I'm lucky that I've got people who know me and don't judge me. When I went to visit my mum in hospital I had to use every ounce of strength to try and keep calm. Whenever I left someone and was driving home I just seemed to flip. The music was blaring, I put my foot down and every other driver was a wanker. I felt almost ecstatic to be racing as fast as I could. When I visited my best friend, by the time she opened the door I was laughing and crying at the same time. I had no idea what the fuck was going on. I couldn't tell you if I was happy or sad, just a bit frightened and confused at that point. 
I found myself staying up all night. I didn't even try to get to sleep. I don't really know what I was doing all night. Day and night just seemed to mingle into one.
I got it into my head that I could command things to happen. I'm too embarrassed to say what but I spent hours commanding this and that to happen. I really believed it and when it didn't work I got really upset. I spent hours reading stuff online about the power of thought and mind over matter. Ordinarily I think it's a load of cobblers. 
Sex is another thing. I have no safety net now.  I found myself thinking about a certain person almost constantly. I knew it wasn't right. I'm not taking to being celibate very well, especially while I'm in this frame of mind. All I can do is keep myself away from situations where I might end up doing something I shouldn't. I'm craving physical contact but I just don't think it will ever be the same with anyone else. I don't want casual sex with just anybody. Frustrated is an understatement. I daren't go online and I daren't go anywhere where I might meet men.
Flipping from happy and excited and full of big ideas to angry and frustrated and irritable is not a great place to be. As for "real life", looking for a job, getting into a routine, sorting out my finances, eating properly, keeping fit, it all seems to have gone out of the window.

So, when my care coordinator came to visit me, straight away she said she was concerned about how "high" I was. I was trying to explain to her but I found myself switching from one subject to another. I knew for my own sake I needed to tell her what was going on. I knew I needed her help but I couldn't stop laughing even though I was trying to be serious. When she asked if she could call my GP and the psychiatrist I remember thinking "whatever".  Even when she drove me to the surgery and we were put in a room (not the public waiting room) to wait for my doctor I found it difficult to take in. When my GP came in he told me he'd spoken to my psychiatrist and that they'd agreed that I was hypomanic and heading towards mania and that I needed to go back on the Quetiapine. I think I told him to fuck off and that I was never going back on it again. Part of me could sense the seriousness of the situation but another part of me found it all so funny. I was sitting in a swivel chair and it was really distracting me. He told me that if I didn't take the meds I'd most probably end up in hospital and then I would have no choice. It seemed like we were there for ages. I felt like a child being told what to do.  I got what he was saying. I know he was right. It was just difficult to organise myself and my thoughts. I think I agreed to take a small dose for a week.....mostly to shut them up. My care coordinator persuaded me to take it then and there.
I find it hard to believe but within a couple of hours I'd nodded off in the chair and slept for 2 hours solid. I slept that night too and the next. On the third day I felt so miserable I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't stop eating too. I was ravenous. I know it was the Quetiapine. I decided not to take anymore. I figured I'd calmed down enough and that hopefully the Lithium would kick and stop me from getting too high again. I feel reasonably ok now. What scares me more than anything is the thought of crashing into depression. I've never experienced full blown mania. My episodes tend to be mixed followed by depression. I feel like an idiot at the moment and I feel like I'm to blame. When I see my doctor I need to try and explain that yes I realise I can't manage without medication but that I'm not prepared to go back on a medication that just doesn't suit me. Lithium is fine but Quetiapine is not for me. I want to be compliant. I don't want to get really ill again but there must be alternatives. I can't go back to feeling how I did when I was on Quetiapine. I can't put up with the shitty side effects and I can't spend the whole time worrying that it could contribute to another heart attack. Now that I feel a little bit more in control I hope I can discuss it with him sensibly. 





Hypomania …the good, the bad and the bloody ridiculous



How I ended up being escorted to the doctors by my care coordinator and having to take medication in front of her to make sure I took it, to "calm me down", I don't know. Well, actually I do know and I'm feeling pretty stupid and pretty scared.  I guess I'm quite fortunate in that I have reasonable insight into my moods. That doesn't mean I can control what I'm feeling or always immediately do anything about it but at least I recognise when things aren't quite right. I think so anyway.

I felt myself getting more and more hyped up over a few days. It's difficult to describe. I know I was hypomanic. I know all the signs. I know I was building up to it.  A lot of people think of hypomania as being happy and full of energy and creativity and a good state to be in. Not so for me. Yes at times I felt happier than I have done for months, elevated, excited even but not always appropriate for the situation. The twitching, the irritability, the nervous energy, the thoughts and ideas scrambling about in my head, the frustration. It was bloody hard work. Yes, I did find myself being more creative. I've been doing some drawing, something I've wanted to do for months but whenever I tried it just turned out crap. Even that, though enjoyable was born out of a sense of urgency. I felt that once I'd decided to do it I had no choice. I produced some really good pictures. I even wrote some poems. I never write bloody poems! I've never even wanted to but again the ideas popped into my head and I just had to do it.
I bought a guitar. I've often thought about learning to play an instrument. Well there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. What was wrong was the fact that I've no idea why I thought I needed a guitar....yes  "needed" a guitar. I had an uncontrollable urge to buy it. Even though I haven't got a spare £100 to spend I couldn't rest until I'd bought one. I don't really know what on earth I thought would have happened if I didn't buy it but I just had to have it.
I found being on my own more difficult than normal and wanted to be near people yet when I was with anyone it was such hard work to try and curb my behaviour. As soon as I got near anyone I couldn't seem to contain my excitement and I couldn't keep still, or shut up. I'm lucky that I've got people who know me and don't judge me. When I went to visit my mum in hospital I had to use every ounce of strength to try and keep calm. Whenever I left someone and was driving home I just seemed to flip. The music was blaring, I put my foot down and every other driver was a wanker. I felt almost ecstatic to be racing as fast as I could. When I visited my best friend, by the time she opened the door I was laughing and crying at the same time. I had no idea what the fuck was going on. I couldn't tell you if I was happy or sad, just a bit frightened and confused at that point. 
I found myself staying up all night. I didn't even try to get to sleep. I don't really know what I was doing all night. Day and night just seemed to mingle into one.
I got it into my head that I could command things to happen. I'm too embarrassed to say what but I spent hours commanding this and that to happen. I really believed it and when it didn't work I got really upset. I spent hours reading stuff online about the power of thought and mind over matter. Ordinarily I think it's a load of cobblers. 
Sex is another thing. I have no safety net now.  I found myself thinking about a certain person almost constantly. I knew it wasn't right. I'm not taking to being celibate very well, especially while I'm in this frame of mind. All I can do is keep myself away from situations where I might end up doing something I shouldn't. I'm craving physical contact but I just don't think it will ever be the same with anyone else. I don't want casual sex with just anybody. Frustrated is an understatement. I daren't go online and I daren't go anywhere where I might meet men.
Flipping from happy and excited and full of big ideas to angry and frustrated and irritable is not a great place to be. As for "real life", looking for a job, getting into a routine, sorting out my finances, eating properly, keeping fit, it all seems to have gone out of the window.

So, when my care coordinator came to visit me, straight away she said she was concerned about how "high" I was. I was trying to explain to her but I found myself switching from one subject to another. I knew for my own sake I needed to tell her what was going on. I knew I needed her help but I couldn't stop laughing even though I was trying to be serious. When she asked if she could call my GP and the psychiatrist I remember thinking "whatever".  Even when she drove me to the surgery and we were put in a room (not the public waiting room) to wait for my doctor I found it difficult to take in. When my GP came in he told me he'd spoken to my psychiatrist and that they'd agreed that I was hypomanic and heading towards mania and that I needed to go back on the Quetiapine. I think I told him to fuck off and that I was never going back on it again. Part of me could sense the seriousness of the situation but another part of me found it all so funny. I was sitting in a swivel chair and it was really distracting me. He told me that if I didn't take the meds I'd most probably end up in hospital and then I would have no choice. It seemed like we were there for ages. I felt like a child being told what to do.  I got what he was saying. I know he was right. It was just difficult to organise myself and my thoughts. I think I agreed to take a small dose for a week.....mostly to shut them up. My care coordinator persuaded me to take it then and there.
I find it hard to believe but within a couple of hours I'd nodded off in the chair and slept for 2 hours solid. I slept that night too and the next. On the third day I felt so miserable I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't stop eating too. I was ravenous. I know it was the Quetiapine. I decided not to take anymore. I figured I'd calmed down enough and that hopefully the Lithium would kick and stop me from getting too high again. I feel reasonably ok now. What scares me more than anything is the thought of crashing into depression. I've never experienced full blown mania. My episodes tend to be mixed followed by depression. I feel like an idiot at the moment and I feel like I'm to blame. When I see my doctor I need to try and explain that yes I realise I can't manage without medication but that I'm not prepared to go back on a medication that just doesn't suit me. Lithium is fine but Quetiapine is not for me. I want to be compliant. I don't want to get really ill again but there must be alternatives. I can't go back to feeling how I did when I was on Quetiapine. I can't put up with the shitty side effects and I can't spend the whole time worrying that it could contribute to another heart attack. Now that I feel a little bit more in control I hope I can discuss it with him sensibly. 





Hypomania …the good, the bad and the bloody ridiculous



How I ended up being escorted to the doctors by my care coordinator and having to take medication in front of her to make sure I took it, to "calm me down", I don't know. Well, actually I do know and I'm feeling pretty stupid and pretty scared.  I guess I'm quite fortunate in that I have reasonable insight into my moods. That doesn't mean I can control what I'm feeling or always immediately do anything about it but at least I recognise when things aren't quite right. I think so anyway.

I felt myself getting more and more hyped up over a few days. It's difficult to describe. I know I was hypomanic. I know all the signs. I know I was building up to it.  A lot of people think of hypomania as being happy and full of energy and creativity and a good state to be in. Not so for me. Yes at times I felt happier than I have done for months, elevated, excited even but not always appropriate for the situation. The twitching, the irritability, the nervous energy, the thoughts and ideas scrambling about in my head, the frustration. It was bloody hard work. Yes, I did find myself being more creative. I've been doing some drawing, something I've wanted to do for months but whenever I tried it just turned out crap. Even that, though enjoyable was born out of a sense of urgency. I felt that once I'd decided to do it I had no choice. I produced some really good pictures. I even wrote some poems. I never write bloody poems! I've never even wanted to but again the ideas popped into my head and I just had to do it.
I bought a guitar. I've often thought about learning to play an instrument. Well there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. What was wrong was the fact that I've no idea why I thought I needed a guitar....yes  "needed" a guitar. I had an uncontrollable urge to buy it. Even though I haven't got a spare £100 to spend I couldn't rest until I'd bought one. I don't really know what on earth I thought would have happened if I didn't buy it but I just had to have it.
I found being on my own more difficult than normal and wanted to be near people yet when I was with anyone it was such hard work to try and curb my behaviour. As soon as I got near anyone I couldn't seem to contain my excitement and I couldn't keep still, or shut up. I'm lucky that I've got people who know me and don't judge me. When I went to visit my mum in hospital I had to use every ounce of strength to try and keep calm. Whenever I left someone and was driving home I just seemed to flip. The music was blaring, I put my foot down and every other driver was a wanker. I felt almost ecstatic to be racing as fast as I could. When I visited my best friend, by the time she opened the door I was laughing and crying at the same time. I had no idea what the fuck was going on. I couldn't tell you if I was happy or sad, just a bit frightened and confused at that point. 
I found myself staying up all night. I didn't even try to get to sleep. I don't really know what I was doing all night. Day and night just seemed to mingle into one.
I got it into my head that I could command things to happen. I'm too embarrassed to say what but I spent hours commanding this and that to happen. I really believed it and when it didn't work I got really upset. I spent hours reading stuff online about the power of thought and mind over matter. Ordinarily I think it's a load of cobblers. 
Sex is another thing. I have no safety net now.  I found myself thinking about a certain person almost constantly. I knew it wasn't right. I'm not taking to being celibate very well, especially while I'm in this frame of mind. All I can do is keep myself away from situations where I might end up doing something I shouldn't. I'm craving physical contact but I just don't think it will ever be the same with anyone else. I don't want casual sex with just anybody. Frustrated is an understatement. I daren't go online and I daren't go anywhere where I might meet men.
Flipping from happy and excited and full of big ideas to angry and frustrated and irritable is not a great place to be. As for "real life", looking for a job, getting into a routine, sorting out my finances, eating properly, keeping fit, it all seems to have gone out of the window.

So, when my care coordinator came to visit me, straight away she said she was concerned about how "high" I was. I was trying to explain to her but I found myself switching from one subject to another. I knew for my own sake I needed to tell her what was going on. I knew I needed her help but I couldn't stop laughing even though I was trying to be serious. When she asked if she could call my GP and the psychiatrist I remember thinking "whatever".  Even when she drove me to the surgery and we were put in a room (not the public waiting room) to wait for my doctor I found it difficult to take in. When my GP came in he told me he'd spoken to my psychiatrist and that they'd agreed that I was hypomanic and heading towards mania and that I needed to go back on the Quetiapine. I think I told him to fuck off and that I was never going back on it again. Part of me could sense the seriousness of the situation but another part of me found it all so funny. I was sitting in a swivel chair and it was really distracting me. He told me that if I didn't take the meds I'd most probably end up in hospital and then I would have no choice. It seemed like we were there for ages. I felt like a child being told what to do.  I got what he was saying. I know he was right. It was just difficult to organise myself and my thoughts. I think I agreed to take a small dose for a week.....mostly to shut them up. My care coordinator persuaded me to take it then and there.
I find it hard to believe but within a couple of hours I'd nodded off in the chair and slept for 2 hours solid. I slept that night too and the next. On the third day I felt so miserable I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't stop eating too. I was ravenous. I know it was the Quetiapine. I decided not to take anymore. I figured I'd calmed down enough and that hopefully the Lithium would kick and stop me from getting too high again. I feel reasonably ok now. What scares me more than anything is the thought of crashing into depression. I've never experienced full blown mania. My episodes tend to be mixed followed by depression. I feel like an idiot at the moment and I feel like I'm to blame. When I see my doctor I need to try and explain that yes I realise I can't manage without medication but that I'm not prepared to go back on a medication that just doesn't suit me. Lithium is fine but Quetiapine is not for me. I want to be compliant. I don't want to get really ill again but there must be alternatives. I can't go back to feeling how I did when I was on Quetiapine. I can't put up with the shitty side effects and I can't spend the whole time worrying that it could contribute to another heart attack. Now that I feel a little bit more in control I hope I can discuss it with him sensibly. 





Crash And Burn Is Lurking In The Shadows

Today has sucked. My mental state, combined with a whiny bawling sick kid, has just made it a bucket of suck. My nerves are fried. To top it off, the NUMB that I normally love from Lithium makes me a shit mother. I come off as uncaring and self absorbed but I am concerned for my kid. It’s just like under ten layers of chemical Novacaine. I feel like a monster because I am going through the motions. I want to feel empathy. I want to coddle and all that warm fuzzy mom stuff. But I have a manipulative drama queen daughter so it is often very difficult to tell when she is truly sick or when she is yanking my chain.

Were I a good mom, it wouldn’t matter. The drive to fuss and coddle her would be there. I mean, I am not an ice cube, but my mood was super low to begin with, her incessant wailing has worn my anxiety to fever pitch, and I’m kicking my own ass for thinking of myself when it should be about her…But the fact is, I am supposed to take care of her and my world has spiraled so far out of control, I’m barely keeping us both afloat.

I think a crash and burn is coming. I don;t know when but I have this sick feeling in the pit of my gut that I am going to wind up in the Rubber Ramada. I have been depressed for too long, devoid of hope for too long. It’s warped my perception, given me an attitude, made me super irritable. I can’;t keep up with it all anymore. Housework? Really, I find it hard at my best to keep up with that and now…

I’m buried alive. Drowning. Smothering.

While those around me are doing pretty damn well and I am on the hamster wheel to nowhere.So I feel like an even bigger loser.

I am in such a bad place I don’;t even want to write. How bad did a day have to suck to leave you without energy to do the one thing that’s kept you alice your whole life.

Ass trash. Massively so.