Daily Archives: April 18, 2014

Deep Shit, Arkansas

Well, it doesn’t look like I’m coming off Zyprexa anytime soon. That wasn’t the focus of today’s appointment with Dr. A; in fact, we didn’t even really discuss it—I just asked and he said he was leaving things the way they are. I was sure he’d want to take me off the Z soon, or at least taper it down over a couple of weeks. But while this announcement surprised me, it’s almost a relief to know I’ll be on the med for awhile longer, for manic season is coming and Lord knows the late winter and early spring haven’t exactly been a picnic.

I’ve got to give the guy a lot of credit for showing up this morning. He’s got the upper-respiratory crud I had in February, and canceled all his appointments for yesterday and all but the morning ones for today. (He said he came in today because he knew I was on the books and he always looks forward to our sessions. LOL.) He looked so miserable that I didn’t even tease him about the newly sprouted facial hair around his jawline, although I was able to make him spit coffee across the room when I told him I was in Deep Shit, Arkansas.

Mostly, we talked about my job and the effects it’s having on my illness and general sense of well-being. For some reason he has a LOT more confidence in my abilities than I do—and he thinks I’m not doing well because I don’t like what I’m doing. Which is weird, because to me it feels like it’s the other way around, but considering the fact that he’s not the first or only person to propose that idea, I have to give it some credence. I do tend to self-sabotage (ooh, now there’s a shocker) and overthink things (really??), but I’ve been so nervous about my poor performance and the possibility of being let go that it’s turning into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

“Get rid of it,” he said of the anxiety. “Do the best you can, and maybe it’ll be good enough and maybe it won’t. What’s the worst thing that can happen? You lose the job and go on unemployment and get a chance to find out what your passion really is. It’s not that you can’t focus on learning the information you need to do your work—after all, you’re able to concentrate well enough most of the time to write your blog and your articles—but you’ve found out this is not what you want and you’ve put up barriers to learning it.”

Bull’s-eye!

Shit.

As much as I hate to admit it, he has a point there. Unless I’m in the middle of a manic episode, I can consistently produce decent writing, and even then I can usually put a post together, though it takes several hours of on-and-off work and comes out pretty tangential in the end. But that’s because writing IS my passion, and believe me, if I had the cojones to find a way to earn a steady paycheck for doing it, I’d have done it years ago.

In the meantime, I’m going to try to do as Dr. A suggested and push away the anxiety, give my VERY best, and let the chips fall where they may. What do I have to lose? Odd how I never thought of things that way…..but then, that’s what I (and the insurance company) pay him for.

I’m also going to try going six weeks between appointments. Two months is apparently still too long—I always seem to run into some sort of trouble when I schedule too far out—and monthly appointments aren’t really necessary anymore, since even my crises are less severe than they used to be, and we can always deal with them over the phone. Who knows, maybe if I stay on Zyprexa long enough I’ll get into a lasting remission and be able to go three months between appointments….wouldn’t that be grand?

 

 


Manic much?

So…I missed my meds the other day. Lithium is such a pain in the ass because I get deathly ill if I don’t take it with food. And I kept saying, well, I will take it later…later…later…and by the time I remembered, the ship had sailed. And I tend to take the others with it so…again, bye bye ship. I chastised myself but ultimately it was a “fuck it” executive decision. I mean, damn, 11 pills a day, I’m bound to fuck up occasionally.

So the next day I took them, and doubled my Paxil dose…Next thing I know I am manic. Hypomanic, feeling like superwoman on steroids. Folded 8 baskets of laundry, cleaned out the closet, put away winter clothes, did dishes….It felt amazing.

Coming down did not feel amazing. It’s so fleeting, the manic bursts. But I hadn’t had one since starting the Lithium so I enjoyed it for what it was. If you could just bottle mania, splice it with enough logic to avoid the bad choices thing…Best drug ever. Money can’t buy a high that good.

But alas I did come crashing back down to earth.

Big plans today. Dad and his woman are taking my kid over night and I intend on tearing into the mountain of depressive “fuck it all” that has become my home. I don’t exactly relish it. It’s overwhelming. But I am gonna do it in increments and reward myself for getting it done. I just have to take baby steps.

Other than that…It’s just been kids and drama and piddly problems. Like the wires on my power cord to this net book are frayed again and keeping it charging is proving to be a pain in my ass. I despise playing russian roulette with the car’s gas gauge, so much that I am purposely avoiding outings if I can. I was accosted by a neighbor yesterday who said she was told her husband had been sneaking into my house and I was giving him oral sex and Xanax. Um,he was the one who stole my internet and left me with no service for a week, I wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire.

I don’t talk to anyone but kids. I keep to myself. I mind my own business. Who and why would they want to drag me into some domestic drama? It makes no sense. I don’t even know who I could have pissed off enough to say such shit out of spite.

People baffle me.

I have no hidden my xanax. I don’t know how these people know I have it because I don’t talk to any of them but if they know…I’m hiding it. I need it worse than they do. If it gives you a buzz, you don’t require it. Because I don’t get buzzed off it, which means it’s correcting something wrong.

The new neighbor girl my kid has been playing with knocked on our door last night and said she wanted to give me a hug. I thought that was sweet. That is why I hang on. Because not all is shit.

But so much is shit that it’s a daily battle. And that’s before I even get out of bed and live outside my own fucked up mind.


The Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance

I first heard of the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance from a friend soon after I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She took me to my first meeting and became my regular carpool each week. The first time I had no idea what to expect and I was a bit scared. There was a part […]

The post The Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance appeared first on Depression and Bipolar Disorder:.

You’re Just Like Me: OhTemp

This week is Alex from www.savingmommyblog.wordpress.com . Her blog is really helpful for people whom have a mental illness with kids. This is a great account of her life.

HEY ALEX!

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So you have a mental illness.. Which one?

Borderline Personality Disorder, PTSD, depressive disorder, and general anxiety; though my treatment only deals with PTSD and easing anxiety symptoms.

When were you diagnosed & how old were you?

I was first diagnosed with BPD when I was 19 after multiple attempts of suicide  and two involuntary hospitalizations. Since I didn’t have insurance at the time, I was never treated–until now. After leaving an abusive marriage, my job made me seek treatment. Since January I ‘ve been seeing a therapist, social worker, and psychiatrist.

How do you cope with your mental illness?

Being in nature is essential for me. I love taking nature walks by the beach. It opens my mind and helps me realize that there is life outside of my head–my body.

What are 3 words that you would describe how your illness makes you feel?

Sad, angry, frustrated because it feel beyond my control.

What is some advice you would give to your fellow soldiers fighting this fight?

Get in therapy and don’t quit. Have a support network–family, friends, coworkers you can trust, support groups, and people online that you can relate to. Take care of yourself by finding little things you enjoy doing.

Tell us your blog or how e can keep in contact with you:

I can be reached at Saving Mommy, my personal blog about dealing with mental illness and how it affects my life as a mother. www.savingmommyblog.wordpress.com

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The Perfect (Medication) Cocktail

Originally posted on A Canvas Of The Minds:
click to read DeeDee’s bio It seems like almost everyone who has been under long-term psychiatric…

The Perfect (Medication) Cocktail

Originally posted on A Canvas Of The Minds:
click to read DeeDee’s bio It seems like almost everyone who has been under long-term psychiatric…

Coming Out Bipolar: The Sequel

Today was “report card” day at work, and my meeting with the managers went just as I expected—they are very understanding and supportive, and they definitely want me to be successful, but I’ve got to get my shit together.

So I told them what I told my training instructors the other day. Oddly, they didn’t seem as surprised as the trainers were, but I’m sure they’ve had bombshells dropped in their laps before. I know I have….as a supervisor myself, I had employees literally confess all kinds of things to me that they probably should have told their priest or therapist. So the announcement of an itty-bitty case of manic depression shouldn’t have been a big deal, right?

What it all boils down to is this: I have an illness—and am on medications—that play nelly-hell with my ability to learn new information and, to some extent, recall older information. I can’t help that. Sometimes I’m tempted to go off meds in the hope of getting rid of some of the brain fog; all it would take is missing a couple of nighttime doses, and I’d clear up in no time. (It would also throw me headlong into mania, which is when I THINK my mind is firing on all eight cylinders…..although from what I’ve been told by family and friends, it really isn’t.) But of course quitting meds is not an option, so I try not to ruminate on that too much.

Ultimately, it won’t matter because this job is not going to work out no matter what I do or don’t do, but I still think it’s preferable to be thought crazy than stupid, and to this end I decided to lay it all on the line with my supervisors. Of course, sitting there in the conference room talking with them, I’m sure I didn’t seem crazy, and they both acknowledged they wouldn’t have guessed this about me. Once again, I assured them that my illness is under good control and that any breakthrough stuff is dealt with swiftly by my doctor. All in all, it was a good conversation, and I was able to keep things professional and maintain my dignity throughout.

And on the inside, I’m screaming “BULLSHIT!” There is nothing dignified about any of this. I hate it that I’m so slow in processing information. I hate it that I’m so anxious. I hate it that I’m in over my head—again—and drowning in my own foolishness. But mostly, I hate it that I don’t know what to do about it.

Thank God I see Dr. Awesomesauce tomorrow. I’m feeling somewhat mixed again, though nowhere near as much as before I went back on Vitamin Z, and I hope he’ll have some ideas……since he often plays the role of job coach, cheerleader and guru, he’s sure to come up with some piece of wisdom I can use. I’ll have to admit he was right about the job, and to let him say “I told you so” because he did tell me so, as did my sister, my husband, and several of my friends who know me well. But I know he won’t rub it in, and after the humiliation of being almost four months into this job and unable to function at even a basic beginning level, the last thing I’m worried about is a little good-natured ribbing from my psychiatrist.

 

 


Ending the Toxic Relationship and Giving Yourself Time and Space to Find Yourself

Laura P. Schulman, MD, MA:

An amazing article from an amazing blog. For those of us who are adult survivors of childhood abuse, this site can be a lifesaver, filled with resources. It was only after reading this site that I felt validated in my knowledge that I am an ACoN–an Adult Child of a Narcissist. Even though I can’t move back to the other side of the world right now, and even though the reason for that is that I’m helping my parents in their old age (thereby soaking in the stinking soup of bad relationships), I still find The Invisible Scar to be reassuring and comforting. At last, someone who understands, and has good advice! (And if my therapist is reading this: Yes, B, I know you tried to tell me all this, ten years ago. I’m a slow learner;-)

Originally posted on The Invisible Scar:

photo credit: AmyJanelle

Some relationships are deeply damaging and unhealthy for the people within the relationship. Unlike healthy relationships, which have peaks and lows, which have struggles now and then, a toxic relationship is poison to the people involved.

But what happens if the toxic relationship is within the family sphere?

Imagine your daughter telling you that every time she was with her boyfriend, he insulted her, gaslit her, made her feel small and insignificant, mocked her interests, tried to change her personality, deprived her of what she loved, cut her off when she was speaking, demanded her to always agree with him, ignored her when she differed in opinion, expected only adoration, and left her feeling stressed-out, sick to her stomach, and emotionally wounded.

Would you tell that daughter to continue seeing that boyfriend?

No. Absolutely not. No one would. However, what if the people involved was a friend…

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