Daily Archives: May 5, 2014

Ninja modswing

I WAS flying high. Very very happy, energetic, pleasant, functioning.

And from out of nowhere, like a stealthy ninja, my mood crashed into the fucking gutter. No reason, no stressor, no trigger. Just CRASH.

It makes no sense to me, it never has. I’m not even consistent enough to meet the true criterion for bipolar one or two, technically because my mood swings cycle so fast. One would thing the mood stabilizer might prevent this but none of them ever have.

To go from flying so high to feeling this dejected so fast I should have whiplash…It takes a toll.

Prior to landing facedown in the gutter, though, I got up in a great mood, took my kid to school, went to the shop, got my classes fixed,did more work in the yard, I even cooked spaghetti and we ate out at the patio table. I was on the swing with my kid, feeling happy.

Now…I am back in “:what’s the point of any of this” territory and it bloody well sucks. I just wish the doctors could figure out why I cycle so rapidly. I got 4 days of mania and right back to where I started. The lows last longer than the highs, which also sucks. I’d also like to know why my disorder is so resistant to medication. None of have ever worked more than two years at a time. And I’ve been on about 20 anti depressants, some of the shrinks thought I was seeking attention or just seeking drugs. Not my fault nothing sticks. Not like it enhances my quality of life. If anything it reduces the quality of my life.

I was calm. Now I am irritable and these kids are driving me nuts. I don’t know why I am the place they all congregate at. I have ONE kid. My landlord asked if they were all mine. Six kids? Are you off your gourd? And after 8 months in a grumpy non functional state, you’d think I’d have run them all off with my griping and impatience. I’ve always been a kid magnet. I don’t know why. Probably why I waited so long to have one, lots of others around to cling to me and annoy me.

I am a ray of sunshine.

Damn it, I just want to go back to the happy place. Not acting out manic but happy and functional. This is awful. I feel like I am back in that winter depressive abyss. And with my luck, for my 4 days of mania, I will pay with a couple of weeks of lows. It always goes that way.

Cyclothymia. Leave it to me to end up with the bastard child of bipolar disorder that the doctors don’t really know much about thus can’t treat properly.

I wanna curl up in bed until this storm passes.

Let the ninjas sneak up with a good mood.

I also want a purple magical unicorn but my chances of that are as good as a good mood.


Pretty, Picture, Positive, Poindexter, and Paranoia

Place pretty picture here

This is the first thing that came up when I did a search for "pretty picture".
From "Carlson Fractal Gallery"

I just couldn't take anymore information, pictures, ridiculous "positive thinking", Jesus stuff, or "uplifting" BS posts on G+ or FB when I'm sitting here suffering from anxiety, dread, sadness about the past regarding my daughter, thinking of filling the great hole torn through my tender, beaten flesh by the great sword of destiny. Stabbed in, then turned and twisted to make sure there was a huge, gaping wound that no food, no drink, no pill, no child, no man, no medication, no therapy, no distraction could ever begin to heal. 

After 40-some years, this wound's still raw around the edges. Sure, it may be PMS or PMDD that may make things all the worse, but that wound is still open, still raw, and I'm still vulnerable, no matter how much I try to hide it, and how much I choke down my own tears so that I don't cry.

Crying, well, crying spells lead to deeper and darker depression, and that leads to a quiet, determined depression, and that leads to writing suicide notes for the people that I like to leave them for. It leads to considering different ways of of being done with it all and being in peace, having relief. Getting outside of this body and brain where I am trapped with these mental diseases. Free from this cage of plaster walls and glass, from these walls of cotton over flesh, free from these bones, and this skull.


If only this was written for me, and the dude's last name wasn't Poindexter, which I'm going to assume in this case is probably a pen name... Who the fuck is called Poindexter?

I have to get my emotional, mental, and physical shit together, pull myself out of this, because I can't afford to feel mentally ill when I have to get ready, and force myself outside with this agoraphobia shit and reverse SAD I have to fight. How the FUCK am I going to do that. It's going to be one of those extra seroquel afternoons. Don't know if I should cut from tonight's or just say fuck it. Bad experience having none one night. Ok, fuck it. 

I have to be able to make it to the store after the spouse gets back from work. That was the plan, anyway - to go to the store... Honestly, I don't know if I can make it if I get all traumatized and shit. Or take way too much seroquel and feel like I'm dragging a 300lb weight on my back, with a bit of a control issue as far as muscle strength. I need the cart to lean on as well.  I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens. I'll need a list to get out of there asap.

PS
"Supernatural" on now: How appropriate that they're in a mental hospital...
PPS
Local news station affiliated with Fox played a bit of "Don't Fear (The Reaper)" fading out to commercial again. This is the 3rd time I have noticed it. Is it not strange? I am I going more crazy? Is this perhaps a subliminal message? Am I being totally paranoid again when I said a few years ago that my cellphone was being tapped, that they could track us down if the phone was on, that cable tv Co. was monitoring what we were uploading/downloading and searching for, etc, and the cable tv Co.was keeping an eye on what we watched? Well, let me tell you, I had Verizon and Comcast then. I was totally paranoid before I tried to commit suicide at that time, I was told. But they said I sounded so reasonable in my explanation of what was going on. I said it was the FBI (I didn't know of the NSA then), but they still thought I was needing to get those thoughts out of my head, and that I was manic too. And years later...! Look at where we are now! I will never make fun of a guy wearing foil under his trucker's hat ever again. Never. He just might be onto something...

van Gogh

Most of my readers know my love for Vincent van Gogh. It’s been six months since I’ve written an article about him, so I decided it was time to dedicate another post. There’s a wonderful Youtube video at the end, but I’ve chosen to give a brief biography as well. It’s not a full biography, […]

Unemployed…almost??

Time to start the depression cycle of job hunting..again.

My job isn’t working out for me. I’m not getting promoted, they are very strange when it comes to work ethic, and I’ll be playing two roles – one that I should get more money, and the other less responsibility. Also I apparently say off the wall things to sensitive people…

Right..

But that’s not the point. The point is I was so excited about the promotion, mental health month, trips, life, that going back to job searching is going to suck, and I can already feel depression mode kicking in.

Job searching for someone like me is horrible. I apply to all these jobs, hear back from maybe 2, they aren’t good because of something or another, then I get even more depressed. I also have a mental illness and don’t want to put myself in a position where I am compromising my health for a job, ever.

I am 27 and I’ve had over 15 jobs in my life..

Does that sound horrible??

I’m so bummed. I gate job hunting :(


Filed under: Ranting

A “Weight”y Matter

Well, I have good news and bad news in the never-ending weight wars. The bad news, of course, is that I’ve gained back some of the weight I lost a year and a half ago. Not exactly a big shockeroo there…..I’ve been battling it since last fall during those three weeks on Zyprexa, and then through the holidays and more Zyprexa, and a broken toe and guess what, a LONG stint on Zyprexa.

The good news, however, is that I haven’t gained anywhere near what I thought I had, and I believe most of it happened over the holidays and into the winter. Not owning a scale (by design), I tend to gauge my weight gain or loss by how I fit behind the steering wheel of the car, and that hasn’t changed in a couple of months. In fact, I’ve only gained 10 lbs. since late October, which is amazing given the fact that I’ve been known to put on that much in a matter of weeks, without benefit of psychiatric drugs.

Which means the Zyprexa is not packing on the pounds as it’s done in the past. For some reason, I don’t get as crazy-hungry as I used to, quite possibly because my body has become accustomed to the medication and apparently has determined that there’s no need for me to cram myself full of food. I do eat more than I really should, and my diet definitely leaves a lot to be desired; but it’s only at the evening meal that I find myself famished, and after not eating much during the day I figure it’s not going to kill me to eat a big dinner.

Can I lose weight like that? No, but obviously I don’t have to put on a drastic amount overnight either. I’ve also been checking my blood sugar at random times since Vitamin Z tends to send it soaring into the stratosphere, and that’s not happening either. I’ve been taking it for seven weeks now.

Maybe I can live with Z after all.

I almost hope so, because I’m really doing well and I’m not all flattened out emotionally, like I was in the early going. I enjoy life in spite of being unemployed and knowing that things are going to suck for a while. I sleep like a rock every night and wake up refreshed. I’m calm, even with Will having pneumonia right now and us losing our health insurance in less than a month. And I’m unusually confident that I’ll be able to find a new job sooner rather than later.

I owe a lot to that little white pill. I’ve been in remission before, but this one feels more solid somehow…..as if the mania and depression that usually simmer under a protective layer of medications don’t even exist right now. It couldn’t happen at a better time, because the suckage is about to get real and I’m going to need all my marbles to deal with it. However, I’m under no illusions anymore that all this crap I’ve been fighting for the past several years is gone for good, or that I won’t cycle back into mania or depression (or worse).

But you know, I can’t worry about that because the truth of this illness is that you don’t have the luxury of predicting the future. You just don’t know what you’re going to face two years from now, or two months from now, or hell, even two DAYS from now. Life doesn’t simply flow; it runs into obstacles, gets hung up in stupid little details, takes detours that you’d never expect. But that’s true for everybody—not just people with mental illness who have to take pills that allow us to have some insight once in a while. :-)


Today..

I hope this makes you feel better…


Filed under: Uplifting

It’s good to be back

I am flying high today. Three days in a row, actually. I have accomplished much. Manic episodes are good for something. Thus far, I am not doing anything impulsive or dangerous so it seems to be the good type of manic episode. Excess energy, need less sleep, rapid speed, motivation, feelings of hope and fun and warm and fuzziness.

It’s good to be back.

I swear the lithium was making me worse instead of better. 8 Months I drowned in the abyss of depression and I wonder if it was the lithium causing it to be so much worse than it ever was before. I’ve been off it two weeks now and everything has changed. I mean, the season change helps and maybe the Paxil is kicking ass and taking names but…One has to wonder, especially if you hit the depression forums and read about the stuff meds have done to other people.

My dad swears my brother has been worse since they put him on Prozac and Vistoril. I don’t deny it’s possible but he has always had an attitude about mental illness, like it’s a mythical magical unicorn we create for shits and giggles because we’re lazy. Wrong meds can make it worse. That’s why you gotta work to find the magic bullet. And I think I may be onto something here with this current combo. Maybe the manic episode isn’t optimal but I am going to stick with it. If I go off the rails, then I will speak up. Though sometimes you don’t know you’re going off the rails til after the fact. Slippery slope.

My dad actually complimented me today and said the house was looking pretty good. My dad never compliments me. I have to hear at least once a week about how my sister is pretty and she can cook and she’s a great housekeeper and she has a job…Gee, thanks. Call me a loser, why don’t you. Maybe I am being hypersensitive. It just irks me. I get it, she walks on water, I am snail slime. Whatever.

I got four hours of sleep last night. I was up til 5:30 a.m. I woke up and felt wonderful. I think sometimes part of my stressors and exhaustion are from the pressure of being a mom.I’m impatient, I expect absolutely obedience, I am easily irritated. When she’s acting out, I’m spazzing out. It takes a toll.But today when she got home she had company and I pushed them on the swing and I wasn’t stressed at all. I felt happy. HAPPY. Talk about mythical magical unicorns.

How long it lasts is anyone’s guess.

I’m rolling with it. It’s good to be back.


It’s good to be back

I am flying high today. Three days in a row, actually. I have accomplished much. Manic episodes are good for something. Thus far, I am not doing anything impulsive or dangerous so it seems to be the good type of manic episode. Excess energy, need less sleep, rapid speed, motivation, feelings of hope and fun and warm and fuzziness.

It’s good to be back.

I swear the lithium was making me worse instead of better. 8 Months I drowned in the abyss of depression and I wonder if it was the lithium causing it to be so much worse than it ever was before. I’ve been off it two weeks now and everything has changed. I mean, the season change helps and maybe the Paxil is kicking ass and taking names but…One has to wonder, especially if you hit the depression forums and read about the stuff meds have done to other people.

My dad swears my brother has been worse since they put him on Prozac and Vistoril. I don’t deny it’s possible but he has always had an attitude about mental illness, like it’s a mythical magical unicorn we create for shits and giggles because we’re lazy. Wrong meds can make it worse. That’s why you gotta work to find the magic bullet. And I think I may be onto something here with this current combo. Maybe the manic episode isn’t optimal but I am going to stick with it. If I go off the rails, then I will speak up. Though sometimes you don’t know you’re going off the rails til after the fact. Slippery slope.

My dad actually complimented me today and said the house was looking pretty good. My dad never compliments me. I have to hear at least once a week about how my sister is pretty and she can cook and she’s a great housekeeper and she has a job…Gee, thanks. Call me a loser, why don’t you. Maybe I am being hypersensitive. It just irks me. I get it, she walks on water, I am snail slime. Whatever.

I got four hours of sleep last night. I was up til 5:30 a.m. I woke up and felt wonderful. I think sometimes part of my stressors and exhaustion are from the pressure of being a mom.I’m impatient, I expect absolutely obedience, I am easily irritated. When she’s acting out, I’m spazzing out. It takes a toll.But today when she got home she had company and I pushed them on the swing and I wasn’t stressed at all. I felt happy. HAPPY. Talk about mythical magical unicorns.

How long it lasts is anyone’s guess.

I’m rolling with it. It’s good to be back.