Daily Archives: August 22, 2014

Dished Out

Five solid days out in the dish of petri, moving amongst dish dwellers and forced functionality. Stick a fork in me, I am done. This weekend I am going to vegetate. I will make doing nothing an art form.

Today started with my car breaking down. A constant velocity joint or something. R can’t fix it til early next week. Fear not, I borrow my old car I gave to my mom who gave it to my nephew who failed driver’s ed. It was just sitting there, so why not let me drive it.

It rattled me, but it didn’t make me come undone. Did errands, got my kid from school, came home.
And now I become broccoli.

It’s needed. All this go go go and activity and stimulation and stress has really worn me down. And it makes me feel shitty for being so fragile. I saw a guy at the shrink’s office last week from a group home and his aide was asking him how work went. Here’s a guy, obviously disabled (judging from his slurred speech and the fact his tongue kept popping out of his mouth randomly) and he manages to work. What kind of loser am I? Given, he has a job at the center that exclusively hires only developmentally delayed or disabled people and they get paid piecework wages. Still…It made me feel so inept.
R’s friend came by today and she works TWO jobs and still keeps her shit together.
What is wrong with me? Why am I so delicate mentally?

One thing about it…the moods are not exclusive to when things go wrong and it brings me down. My mood held steady even with the car breaking down. It’s my anxiety that goes into the stratosphere. I’ve done all their therapy, retraining my brain, immersion therapy, cognitive behavior modification. Nothing touches the anxiety. Half the time, it comes out of nowhere, no triggers. But I’ve noticed when things go wrong, that is a trigger. Which means I spend my entire life in varying states of anxiety and panic. Yet people wonder why I can never seem to relax and am so high strung.
I’ve been housing a dozen pretzels in my guts for years, relaxation does not come easy. And every time I let my guard down, that’s when I get blindsided.

I have no answers. But I survived another week, scathed and worn down, but relatively in tact otherwise.A couple of days brain reboot and I’ll go do it all again next week.
Joy, joy, happy happy.


Sports Used to Describe Bipolar Disorder

sports

Downhill Skiing- You get all the way to the top easily (mania) and then come down (depression) quickly.

Wrestling- It is a constant struggle

Ping pong- rapid unpredictable bouncing

Football- Sometimes with all of your friends and family, you make a touchdown. However, sometimes you fall short.

Basketball-  Dribbling represents small ups and downs that are somewhat normal. However, when the ball is thrown towards the basket it goes straight up (mania) and comes crashing down (mania)

Gymnastics- Scoring a perfect ten is difficult, but can be done. However, most of the time you are working hard to get it.

NASCAR racing- It’s  fast and furious with a lot of crashes along the way and casualties sometimes include by-standers.

Hockey- It can get rough and scoring does not happen very often, but it can be done

Marathon Running- With hard work and persaverence, you can do just about anything

Swimming- You have to dive in to get started

Baseball- With help from your loved ones, you can make it all the way around the bases

Tennis- Back and forth, back and forth (mania and depression)

Pole vaulting- The higher you go, the harder you fall

Archery- It is hard to get it right every time, but when you do hit the bull’s eye, it is a wonderful feeling

Boxing- Even if you are ready for a fight, sometimes you get knocked out anyway

Volleyball- Dig, Set, Spike= Mildly depressed, jolted into mania, crashing into depression

Bowling- Sometimes you do your best and strike out

Canoeing/Kayaking- Even if you capsize, you can get back in the boat and glide a long again

Horseback Riding- If you don’t do everything you can to control the horse (illness), it will take off can go its own way.  However, sometimes even if you try and control the horse, (it gets spooked), you can’t control it

Fishing- You never know for sure what you’re going to get

Cheer leading- You can cheer for others, but you must take care of yourself first

Hiking- It’s simply hard work to up and down the hills

Rock Climbing- It is really hard to get to the top , but with determination you can achieve great things. You might fall a long the way and things might be difficult, but you have to keep trying

Weight Lifting- It might feel like all the weight is on your shoulders, but with the proper training (treatment)  you can lift the weight off

Tug of War- You feel like you are being pulled between mania and depression, but you can win

Camping- You can have a lot of fun (mania), but there is usually a mess to clean up afterwards

Soccer- Even though it takes effort by you and all your team mates (loved ones)  it is possible to get past the goalie and score.

Golf- You don’t always get a hole-in-one, but you shouldn’t let that keep you from still trying

 

Note: A few of these ideas I got from a group I run called Advocates for People with Mental Illnesses

Picture found at: FreeImages

 

 


No, Woman, You Can’t Have An Opinion Online

Why can't I get the text to fucking format properly?!?!



First of all, FUCK YOU, JACK! [not you, of course]

A lovely expression.

All I did was simply answer a question, and this is what happens:

Question was something like... "Are you in recovery or recovering from PTSD..."

My simple answer, and most of the exchange will follow. Massive egos can't handle something that is different, something they can't control, something they don't understand. Just because you have extra letters after your name, or call yourself a therapist, let us not forget the massive, but sometimes fragile ego of The Therapist, or The Psychologist, or of many Doctors:

My answer and exchange (name hidden for ego protection):


FL Jones
10:34 AM

Recovering? I don't believe there is a "cure", or recovery from mine.

HIM:
+FL Jones Well, then, I strongly encourage you to keep studying. I treat PTSD, and have
for almost 20 years. It's highly CURABLE, but you have to work with someone who knows
how to do it.

Pay attention to those who are properly trained and schooled, and who have years of
clinical experience. They are they ones who know most.

[note: you have got to be fucking kidding me responding to me as if I had an IQ of 30...]

FL Jones
2:35 PM
Studying? Studying the failure rate? I'd like to meet a therapist who could actually deal with Bipolar, PTSD and anxiety disorder all at once that takes Medicare, is properly trained, schooled, and up to date on MH info and Rx. I've been through far too many failures in my lifetime when it comes to any therapist even daring to deal with PTSD, let alone bipolar. 

There's only so much time you can read pointless misinformation about potential therapists on the never-updated medicare site before your head hurts and your eyes might be bleeding.

HIM
1:12 PM
I didn't say it would be easy. My point is that it's possible.

Bipolar should be managed with your psychiatrist, as it primarily organic. I find often that elements of what is taken to be Bipolar disorder are actually PTSD, and they go away when the PTSD does. As for "daring to deal with PTSD", what do you mean? It doesn't take daring. It takes proper training, some clinical experience, and a client willing to just do the work.

I can't do it for you. I do detect some anger in what you write. That may or may not serve you well. Getting the job done is the whole point. Anything that doesn't help you do that must be checked at the door.

I am reminded of mothers I've met who have a sick child and no money. They are relentless in seeking help, until they find someone who will just get the job done, period. You will have to find this person for yourself.

As for "taking Medicare", the problem there is that the law severely limits who can do that. I've cured more PTSD cases (i.e., no symptoms left - they no longer qualify for the diagnosis, period) than I can easily remember. But I'm not eligible to take Medicare. That's crap. Call your Congressman, your Senator. They are to blame.

If you walked into my office and couldn't pay for my services, I'd take you "on scholarship", with the following qualification: you will do the work or I'll fire you as a client. I expect a fair exchange. I virtually always get it!

Finally, there's this: I have NEVER, repeat, never, had a case of adult onset PTSD that I didn't cure, if the person stayed for the full duration of the treatment (which is not long). I use EMDR and related methods. They work.

I don't know your situation. If your PTSD developed in childhood, the situation is often much more complex and difficult. If you have a personality disorder and have trouble taking responsibility for what happens in your life from this point on, you are going to have trouble getting good results from anyone.

I wish you all the best.

FL Jones 
Time?
Dude, calm down. What I wrote about was frustration with experiences with the therapy I had experienced with my diagnoses, and the system. I don't know why you misunderstood my comments, and decided to take them personally. Resentment and anger is what I find so thinly-veiled in your "response". I wasn't directing my comments at you (at all) as a professional or a person. I never doubted your education, experience, patients' success or even alluded to failure on your part. I wasn't trying to insult you, I was simply describing the failures that I've had in the past with therapists, on my own insurance and Medicare, and how not one of them would stay on or want me to speak on and stay on my particular brand of PTSD issues. I referred to them as "mine", my kind of PTSD. I did not refer to any other description or type of PTSD. I made no mention of the type of PTSD you work with. I only mentioned "mine".

Apparently it does take guts for some therapists to work on PTSD that began as a very small child. The many therapists that I tried hard working with kept shying away from the past, and PTSD. I brought it up time and time again, talked about it, and was misdirected. I haven't been fortunate enough to have anything "easy", nor do I ever expect anything to be easy, especially therapy! Jeebus! Good for you and your patients for their success, I say! I wasn't doubting you, your education, experience or your success with your patients, nor blaming you for the state of Medicare, for chrissakes.

Why is it that when a woman has an opinion, shares it online, on anything, she's accused of being "angry", and gets insulted? ("Personality disorder", etc in your shameful case),  "feminazi", "bitch", "ugly", "fat" etc? All, of which I'm glad to say that I'm not. Why did you feel the need to insult me with an extremely TIRED, totally offensive stereotype of a woman that equates to the "lazy" "welfare mother" stereotype? [note: quoting him] "They are relentless in seeking help, until they find someone who will just get the job done, period."  Dude, I handed OUT "welfare" as my last occupation! It was my job to help other people, I loved it, and love helping others rather than myself, and that is why I did it for as long as I could.  I did not judge women or men, with or without children. I have never relentlessly sought out help for anything from anyone but a job, an affordable place to live, and to be as successful as possible with college and in my jobs as I could, especially working to try to help other people.

I wasn't asking you personally to do anything for me. I do not know where you got that idea and took my comments so personally. If you knew me at all, and you admittedly do not know my situation or me, you'd know that I never ask for help from anyone, or ever even a dime, that I was brought up by a single father that way, and that I am not that ridiculously, weak, lazy, sad stereotype of "mothers I've met who have a sick child and no money", you accuse me of being - so transparently akin to "lazy""welfare mothers"! I don't expect anything to get done unless it's by me, not for me, with my own hard work, own money, blood, sweat, tears, and my own inner strength. A "Gold digger" or materialistic person, I am not.

I have no personality disorder, either, I will add, which is a very sad, shameful, and once again, thinly-veiled way to insult me, especially when I had already stated my diagnoses. The psychiatrist that has seen me for chats and medication management for 22yrs, diagnosed me properly, that has been helping me keep hope, quit drinking, stay alive, and keep up the good fight is Adjunct Professor and Vice Chair in the Department of Psychiatry and Chief of the Division of Psychiatric Epidemiology and Health Services at a university you know very well, internationally renowned for his research, a member of NIMH Psychiatric Health Services Grant Review Committee for 4 years, co-wrote a book on depression self-care, and has received two awards for excellence in teaching psychiatry to primary care physicians, and still manages to take a few patients at a clinic for advising and medication management. So, you might have an idea of why I have high standards in the mental health care department. I have been advised by him to have and keep those high standards as far as therapy goes, and to keep trying, and trying, and trying. I was merely saying that with Medicare, it is far easier said than done.  Currently, this doctor is on leave, because he has become suddenly critically ill. I am very sad but hopeful for him. He has always treated me with absolute respect, and I have treated him the same, not to mention actually trusting this man with the truth of all that had been going on in my life. He is humble, whip smart, up to date, kind, caring, trusting, funny, and a wonderful doctor. He has never been condescending, accusatory, or insulting in any way.

It took me years to seek help even though misdiagnosed as a teen, years to admit that I could no longer work for the state in a position of trying to help others in need, years to apply for disability benefits because I didn't want to ever have to rely on anybody but myself and work to get by, or to be labeled "disabled". I have worked hard for what I have, and even harder to retain my bit of sanity and shred of hope to keep living, and to keep trying to find a therapist that is a good fit for me.

I have always done nothing but take responsibility for myself. I grew up with that as the rule, and a hell of a survival instinct. I also know thinly-veiled insults when I read them as well. Frankly, you should be ashamed of yourself. I guess it's too bad if you felt your ego was bruised. That was definitely NOT my intention. I have lost any and all respect for you that I have ever had.

"I wish you all the best." ;) 
[note:you fucking cuntbag]
If that is not a fragile fucking ego, then I don't know what is. Plus the insults, so unnecessary, so fucking unprofessional. What a cuntbag. 

Oh yeah, PTSD is "curable". Mental illnesses are "curable". Right. So why are we still feeling like shit and popping all the pills they give us? Well, he admitted he didn't "cure" child-onset PTSD. I wonder what kind of trauma he does "cure". "Stubbed toe PTSD"? "Broken Nail PTSD"? The more I read his crazy response, the more I'm thinking his patients are "cured" by just never going back to see that dickless fuckwad. No knowledge of bipolar either. What kind of a therapist or psychologist is that, who can't handle anything else but his brand of PTSD that he "cures"?

HIMshit:
"If you walked into my office and couldn't pay for my services, I'd take you "on scholarship", with the following qualification: you will do the work or I'll fire you as a client. I expect a fair exchange. I virtually always get it!"e

I'd rather see "Dr Mengele" again and piss in a cup, like the alkie/ex-junkie/tattooed whore that he probably thinks I am, like I had to last time when my Dr was out, than ever lay eyes on that bitch. 

Fortunately, I got a funny call yesterday from a cool nurse at the clinic, letting me know that their in-patient Dr is going to fill in for a while, and told me his name. I said "oh, yeah, I remember him very well, he's sooo nice." She says "yeah, and he's real easy on the eyes too!" I burst out laughing, agreed, and told her to enjoy her eye candy all month or so, and that I'll be there for my appointment. If he wasn't married, while I was a patient at that hospital's crazy ward many years ago, I would have been all over him like a cheap coat of crazy paint. Ha! He was fun to actually flirt with, which is something I have rarely done in the past. So so long ago.

Praise Jeebus that I got Topomax (generic), and am almost down to the weight I was at the last time I was in-patient there! It should be a real hoot to see him and how he's aged and matured. Hahahaha! I just want to feel confident in my skin, instead of anxious as fuck, panicky, and losing the weight is supposed to be helping me with that. I just need that push out the door. At least I won't be seeing a complete stranger. That was horrible.

Anyway, I'm getting my ass to bed eaerly. I'll be up at the crack of dawn again tomorrow, as usual.

Moods are pretty stable. I think that last entry was PMSy. I had a lot to be upset about too. Things are going to get better. I hope I hope I hope...

.

Tahoe Ramblings

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