Daily Archives: June 16, 2014

Blink 182 – I Miss You

I love this song.
I remember listening to this album when my family was coming apart at the seams. This album seemed to save me.
This particular song brings me back…


Filed under: Music, Videos

So Where Are We Now?



Holy shit, it's been a long time since I've been able to sit down, concentrate, and actually write. It's been one month since I went cold turkey off the 600mg generic seroquel, and what happens after that? I go and get a terrible cold from out of nowhere, like I can't remember ever having! I mean, criikey! I never fucking get out! I've only been out a couple of times to the store, to grab a coffee maybe once, maybe up to Post Office just to drop mail, the drugstore, and my spouse isn't even sick! WTF?! Just as I was starting to get used to feeling "normal" agoraphobia, bipolar, anxiety,  and PTSD on the current meds: all generic - 450mgs wellbutrin, 4mg clonopin, 40mg prozac, 150mg topomax, I have to go and get fucking sick and miserable. 

Well, not miserable, but a little irritable about the non-stop runny nose - like a fountain, partially taken care of by antihistamines for allergies, dry cough calmed by finally having a bit of phlegm coating, and my body's not feeling so much like I've been run over by a truck, and backed up on today. Too weak to even think about the treadmill. Lame. I feel so fucking LAME!! I NEVER GET SICK! I'm offending myself with this lameness and not being able to overcome it and just pretend all is "normal". Fuck fuck fuck fuck! If only I could get this pissed off about my anxiety... Hmmm... Maybe I will.

I have an appointment with my meds shrink on tuesday of next week, which is ok, I guess. I should be fine by then, maybe able to even catch the buses there, but I don't know yet. I don't want to push myself when I'm still feeling shitty. I don't even really want to think about it. I'm not even quite sure how I feel in the head besides the head cold going on. Damn thing's been giving me headaches, too. 

Before the cold, I was suffering quite a bit from lower back pain, so I've probably burned a nice hole in my stomach by now, but I refuse to take anything else but aspirin. Somehow the thermometer got lost during the move to this place, so I couldn't tell for sure whether I had a temperature or not, but I did feel feverish a couple of times. Then hot/cold. Kind of annoying. 

I'm so glad I have no shrink appointments this week, and I definitely am glad that I will be formally firing the last one after I receive the bills from her. I'm so grateful that I have no place that I have to force myself to go to this week, because I sure as shit feel like shit. No more dreading mondays. No more fucked up sunday nights because of it.

At least I'm able to sit up today and type this. I don't have enough energy to do much else. That could be from lack of enough coffee. I'm afraid to look at my main email account and deal with that.

My spouse injured himself at work, and went to a Dr. So he took the week off, said he was going to do an L&I claim, waits until the last minute and then asks me to basically fucking do this shit, and phone calling for him because he needed the help, and didn't know what he was doing. I didn't know either. He gets pissed and freaked out, directs it toward me, and I vow to myself to never help him again. I actually cried a few tears. On seroquel, I would have had a very different and way less emotional reaction. As in NOT ONE FUCKING TEAR. Of course I didn't let him see me cry. Later on he comes out and says he's not bothering with the physical therapy he's supposed to have made appointments for - this week, and went back to work today. I just shook my head and said, "there goes your claim." 

I don't know, but it's as if he wants to get hurt and not work or something. He says he hates his boss, who really sounds like a little dick and a 1/2, so I can't blame him. He claims he's thinking about joining a union  and getting work that way. He says that some of his former workmates have done it and made big bucks, especially working out of town, or state, something he claimed he didn't want to do when he was in England: paying for a place, working, and not living there. That was #1 on his hate list. And then there's me... ? Well, all the fucking bills are in my name, of course, I don't know where his head is at other than I think he hates working, and he thinks he should be able to retire at 50ish.

The other kids in his family have bought their own houses, or "married well". He never saved his money, all that he made, that he could have. Me, I never wanted the responsibility of a house that I couldn't afford, a giant debt hanging over my head like a noose for the rest of my life. I'd rather have the real noose. Unless I had a partner whom I could trust, that had my back, that had his shit together. I couldn't see that happening for me. I trust no one anymore, even if I am married now. 

The spouse seems too comfortable being unemployed, when it would freak the fuck out of me, if I could work. Must be a UK thing. I didn't give a fuck with it when I was there when I wasn't working, for the most part. I know where I was, but where are we now? It's not all B&W.



Frank Miller's Sin City: A Dame to Kill For - Trailer 2 

Frank Miller as a co-director working with Robert Rodriguez 





So Where Are We Now?



Holy shit, it's been a long time since I've been able to sit down, concentrate, and actually write. It's been one month since I went cold turkey off the 600mg generic seroquel, and what happens after that? I go and get a terrible cold from out of nowhere, like I can't remember ever having! I mean, criikey! I never fucking get out! I've only been out a couple of times to the store, to grab a coffee maybe once, maybe up to Post Office just to drop mail, the drugstore, and my spouse isn't even sick! WTF?! Just as I was starting to get used to feeling "normal" agoraphobia, bipolar, anxiety,  and PTSD on the current meds: all generic - 450mgs wellbutrin, 4mg clonopin, 40mg prozac, 150mg topomax, I have to go and get fucking sick and miserable. 

Well, not miserable, but a little irritable about the non-stop runny nose - like a fountain, partially taken care of by antihistamines for allergies, dry cough calmed by finally having a bit of phlegm coating, and my body's not feeling so much like I've been run over by a truck, and backed up on today. Too weak to even think about the treadmill. Lame. I feel so fucking LAME!! I NEVER GET SICK! I'm offending myself with this lameness and not being able to overcome it and just pretend all is "normal". Fuck fuck fuck fuck! If only I could get this pissed off about my anxiety... Hmmm... Maybe I will.

I have an appointment with my meds shrink on tuesday of next week, which is ok, I guess. I should be fine by then, maybe able to even catch the buses there, but I don't know yet. I don't want to push myself when I'm still feeling shitty. I don't even really want to think about it. I'm not even quite sure how I feel in the head besides the head cold going on. Damn thing's been giving me headaches, too. 

Before the cold, I was suffering quite a bit from lower back pain, so I've probably burned a nice hole in my stomach by now, but I refuse to take anything else but aspirin. Somehow the thermometer got lost during the move to this place, so I couldn't tell for sure whether I had a temperature or not, but I did feel feverish a couple of times. Then hot/cold. Kind of annoying. 

I'm so glad I have no shrink appointments this week, and I definitely am glad that I will be formally firing the last one after I receive the bills from her. I'm so grateful that I have no place that I have to force myself to go to this week, because I sure as shit feel like shit. No more dreading mondays. No more fucked up sunday nights because of it.

At least I'm able to sit up today and type this. I don't have enough energy to do much else. That could be from lack of enough coffee. I'm afraid to look at my main email account and deal with that.

My spouse injured himself at work, and went to a Dr. So he took the week off, said he was going to do an L&I claim, waits until the last minute and then asks me to basically fucking do this shit, and phone calling for him because he needed the help, and didn't know what he was doing. I didn't know either. He gets pissed and freaked out, directs it toward me, and I vow to myself to never help him again. I actually cried a few tears. On seroquel, I would have had a very different and way less emotional reaction. As in NOT ONE FUCKING TEAR. Of course I didn't let him see me cry. Later on he comes out and says he's not bothering with the physical therapy he's supposed to have made appointments for - this week, and went back to work today. I just shook my head and said, "there goes your claim." 

I don't know, but it's as if he wants to get hurt and not work or something. He says he hates his boss, who really sounds like a little dick and a 1/2, so I can't blame him. He claims he's thinking about joining a union  and getting work that way. He says that some of his former workmates have done it and made big bucks, especially working out of town, or state, something he claimed he didn't want to do when he was in England: paying for a place, working, and not living there. That was #1 on his hate list. And then there's me... ? Well, all the fucking bills are in my name, of course, I don't know where his head is at other than I think he hates working, and he thinks he should be able to retire at 50ish.

The other kids in his family have bought their own houses, or "married well". He never saved his money, all that he made, that he could have. Me, I never wanted the responsibility of a house that I couldn't afford, a giant debt hanging over my head like a noose for the rest of my life. I'd rather have the real noose. Unless I had a partner whom I could trust, that had my back, that had his shit together. I couldn't see that happening for me. I trust no one anymore, even if I am married now. 

The spouse seems too comfortable being unemployed, when it would freak the fuck out of me, if I could work. Must be a UK thing. I didn't give a fuck with it when I was there when I wasn't working, for the most part. I know where I was, but where are we now? It's not all B&W.



Frank Miller's Sin City: A Dame to Kill For - Trailer 2 

Frank Miller as a co-director working with Robert Rodriguez 





Fitness Update June 16, 2014

Medications can wreak havoc on the metabolism of those of us being treated for bipolar disorder or depression. 50 lbs is the typical amount gained by those who begin treatment. Therefore, I have begun this weekly fitness update for motivation. Motivation for those of you out there struggling with weight, and more specifically, motivating me. […]

The post Fitness Update June 16, 2014 appeared first on Insights From A Bipolar Bear.

Anderson takes part in an experiment to help understand how people live with mental illness

Anderson takes part in an experiment to help understand how people live with mental illness

So glad that people in the public are trying to help out mental illness patients, but I think we may need someone who has a little more IT factor for it to be listened to…

How about Oprah?
Lebron James?
JESUS?

Thanks Anderson for bringing more light on such a dark subject!


Filed under: Awareness, Links, media, mental health awareness, News, Ranting

Ridiculousness

Today’s post is inspired by some of the silly stuff I see in everyday life that astounds me with its stupidity. For example, I was just watching a comedy show on TV when a commercial featuring actress Jenny McCarthy, of anti-childhood-vaccinations fame, came on advertising a brand of electronic cigarettes.

Now, let me get this straight: This so-called health freak who has done more to re-introduce deadly diseases back into society than Typhoid Mary is advertising cigarettes. For one thing, I thought it was illegal to advertise cigarettes in the first damn place—electronic or not—and for another, I find it cruelly ironic that she’s glorifying smoking while encouraging American parents not to vaccinate their kids against measles, mumps. whooping cough et. al. I wish she’d STFU and go away before she gets those unvaccinated kids hooked on e-cigarettes.

Speaking of obnoxious advertising, I also loathe the commercials for alcoholic beverages which carry the tagline “Drink Responsibly”. Really??  I know WHY the companies do that; they figure the token disclaimer absolves them of any guilt associated with enticing young consumers to use their products by glamorizing the consumption of a poisonous substance. Sorry to say it, but there’s enough stupidity out there that some of ‘em really do believe that a few bottles of Dos Equis will make them seem worldly and interesting. I don’t always bitch about commercials on TV, but when I do, I prefer to hate on the booze ads.

Here’s another thing that gets me. Young males seem to be overwhelmingly prone to ridiculous stunts, and there’s a mass market for TV shows featuring them lighting farts, diving out of second-floor windows into swimming pools, and inventing new and novel ways of using skateboards to injure themselves. There’s a host of Top 20 Dumbest (Drivers/Brawlers/Partyers/fill in the blank); and then there’s 1000 Ways To Die and Ridiculousness.

All of them are hilarious until the moment when you realize that these idiot-sticks have absolutely NO idea that they’re going to get hurt…..that’s when you actually start feeling sorry for them. (Well, not really, but at least you think you feel sorry for them because that’s what nice people do.)

One of the episodes we watched tonight showed one poor dip-wad who decided that jumping off the roof of his house onto a trampoline and then off the trampoline into the pool was just a dandy idea. Now, this sounds like fun, and in another lifetime even I, as a tomboy in my youth, might have done it on a dare. To his credit, the kid calculated his jumps carefully and had the trampoline optimally positioned, he had a friend recording the proceedings, and he had more friends as spotters. What could possibly go wrong?

He made it, but not in the manner he’d planned. He wound up taking an extra bounce from the trampoline onto the concrete edge of the pool before landing in the water. But what got me was his reaction: he actually had the nerve to be surprised that he busted his ass. He was crying and yelling “Why (bleep)?! How the (bleep) could this happen? (Bleepin’) OWWWWWW!!” Uh, maybe because you forgot the laws of (bleepin’) gravity?

Ridiculous.

 

 


Bipolar, but Not Crazy

I’ve been meaning to blog about this subject for some time. It’s an issue that weighs heavily on my mind, and is the primary reason I choose to remain mostly anonymous. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been different. I always liked different music, clothes and books that weren’t the same as what the popular kids liked. I know this doesn’t make me unique in the least, we have all felt left out or disconnected from our peers from time to time. But looking back at it, I realize I showed signs of being bipolar even as a child. It made for a difficult childhood and a miserable adolescence. Now that I am in my 30’s, I could write off the taunts as “kids being kids” or some other excuse for their cruelty. I am sad to realize that those same kids who teased and made my life miserable have grown into bullying, gaslighting adults. But the cherry on the sundae is that the cruelest treatment I’ve ever received has come at the hands of fellow females.

Calling girls and women “crazy” is a ridiculous epidemic. From guys who aren’t prepared for the emotional investment women make (see this brilliant article for more on this) to females who are envious of/frightened/intimidated by other females,  calling women crazy is detrimental to everyone.  Furthermore, in my opinion, calling a woman crazy who actually suffers from a mental illness is nothing short of cowardly bullying. It’s the old “I don’t understand it, so let’s destroy it” mentality.

Here’s the thing about mental illness: it affects everyone in some way, whether you are aware of it or not. I’ve previously quoted various statistics on the prevalence of mental illness in the US, and it’s more common than you realize. I am, by definition, mentally ill. I suffer from bipolar disorder II, major depressive disorder, with bouts of self injury and binge eating. I also hold down a full time job, have friends and family, have hobbies, and pay my taxes. My mental illness is a part of me, but it does not define me. Had I been alive 50 years ago, I would most likely be in an institution. Luckily for me, and millions of others, psychiatry and mental illness treatment have come a long way. But sadly, so many people don’t get treatment due to the stigma that continues to surround mental illness.

Let me explain that to you in a different way. If you wear something that accentuates that 5 lbs you put on in a month and people give you crap for that, chances are good those same people are going to make your life hell if you let on you’re binge eating, anorexic, anxious, bipolar or suffering from postpartum depression. Part of the solution to this is surrounding yourself with positive people who see the good in you, and another, larger part of the solution is to rethink our opinions and attitudes on emotions and mental illness.

To touch on Yashar Ali’s article I previously mentioned, girls aren’t crazy if they get emotionally invested in a guy after the guy gives the impression that he too, is invested. This miscommunication results in the girl being labeled “crazy”. What happens next? She feels wrong for having the emotions she’s been having. She experiences self doubt and insecurity and begins to believe that she really and truly is, crazy. To sum that up: girl and boy meet. Girl and boy begin talking regularly. Girl likes the boy, tells him, girl gets called crazy. Kinda screwy math, no?

In my personal experience, I’ve done some shitty things in my life, especially after my ex fiancee and I split. I’ve apologized and tried to make amends for the things I’ve done. I’ve accepted the fact that there’s a couple of people in the world who will hate me forever, but looking at the context, you get a different story.   Was I crazy? No, but I was an untreated, non-diagnosed mentally ill person who had just suffered the most devastating heartbreak of my life. Did I behave in a dignified, loving manner? Hell no, I was an ass. But I had to rebuild my life and I didn’t have the means to try to put it back together so I raged against everything, including myself.

On a larger scale, the homeless guy you pass on your way to work everyday- is he crazy? drunk? Or is he a veteran suffering from PTSD who can’t afford his rent, meds, therapy and car payments? The barista who spelled your name on your coffee cup incorrectly? Lazy, not listening? Maybe she can’t hear very well or she’s busy hoping she  gets out of work in time to pick up her child from day care. Context, empathy, whatever you want to call it, it needs to happen. We need to look at situations with our hearts open and mouth shut. We need to stop using cruel, insulting labels: “crazy” “retarded” “bipolar” “bitch” “fat”.

There are days when I feel like having mental illness is a curse, and other days I feel it’s given me more than I could imagine. I’ve learned to be more empathetic, warmer, to listen more carefully. It’s made me more purposeful and to say it’s humbling is an understatement. I believe we’re all amazing, capable and powerful beings and that no one is  crazy, just wired differently. But if wanting to change the world a little at a time makes me crazy, then I guess I am.

 

Filed under: Self Discovery Tagged: bipolar, bullying, crazy, hurt, labels, mental illness, stigma

I have NO idea

I was fine earlier. Then my mood crashed and burned big time. I think because it’s shark week my hormones are doing battle with the mood swings and the result is a mixed episode of mania and depression with spurts of stable moods.

Sucks.

I wanna go to bed. Now.

If the pattern holds, by bedtime, my brain will go manic.

I feel so low. I don’t know why. NOTHING happened. Same shit, different day. It’s so irritating and baffling.

Bipolar is ass trash.

At the moment, I feel like maybe I am ass trash too.

Stupid brain sending wrong messages. My dream would be a 4o4 error code…Mood not found.

Apathy. Six pack. Now. Please.