Daily Archives: February 9, 2016

A Series of Unfortunate Events

Last night was the third meeting of my NAMI Peer-to-Peer class.  Last night was the first time I missed the class.  I spent the day nervously looking out the window to see if snow would start up again (it had snowed heavily in the morning but instantly melted) and decided that if the weather was […]

Therapy

So I went back to my therapist for a follow-up visit from my little episode last month, and she said I seemed to be doing a lot better,  We talked about my stressors and how to handle them, and we talked about how I was coping with the anxiety and the depression.  I told her my psychiatrist had upped my Pristiq and how that seemed to really be helping–I wasn’t self-loathing nearly as much as I had been and was coping with my frustrations in a much healthier way.

SHe asked about exercise and I  said I had started a yoga/Pilates class and how it really did seem to be helping me.  I discovered something last week when I went–when I’m there, I can’t concentrate on anything but what I’m doing there.  My mind doesn’t wander like it does during regular exercise.  She said that sounded good.

SO for now I am feeling a lot more confident in the future and in my ability to get things done within my limits.  WE will see what happens when life tightens up again after Valentine’s.  That’s when I’ve historically had the most trouble, between Valentine’s Day and MOther’s Day.  So hopefully we have already jumped on the problem with both feet and can keep me stable this year.  Please pray for me s I enter this difficult time.

 


Sleek Geek Ultimate You Challenge and mental illness

Over the weekend I came to the realization that I’m still overweight. I’ve lost some weight thanks to my new meds and my walking regime but I’m not getting to my goal. Yes I’m impatient. So I decided to do something daring. I decided to roll out my rolls and expose myself: half naked and bipolarish.  […]

Mish Mash

Messy-Room

No, this is not an image of my youngest son’s room, although it is close. This is an image of my brain on drugs. (Does anyone else remember that commercial?)

My older son got that new job I have been talking about. I really think it is a good deal. An insurance company that’s been around forever and seems well organized. A 401 where they actually match and decent pay. $17 an hour to start and $26 for overtime. Their health insurance is pretty high, but he can stay on ours for another year or so. I guess lots of companies now want their employees off their insurance and onto Obamacare. The prices would do it, for sure. AND my son is young and healthy.

Today is one of those days where I’m not achieving much, but tomorrow is a big day. I told above son I would take him shopping for clothes. This is a kid who worked at a flag store (they actually sell flags), and he wore jeans with holes and ratty T-shirts. The packet his new job sent us was clear about the dress code. He needs dress socks, dress shoes (loafers?), khakis, a pair of dress pants, jeans (for casual Fridays), button down shirts, polos, and a belt or two. (I think he has white T-shirts and underwear, but who knows? This is sort of a funny thing…to think of him wearing “normal” clothes to work everyday.

Today I am working on my book, Part II. I am planning on reading what I have and then jotting down scenes I want to put in there to finish it. Some things that are approximate. I normally don’t outline my writing but I am getting toward the end and I need more structure. I don’t even want to think about editing this whole mess. I’ve had a couple of friends who have been really helpful. One told me the ending for Part I could be stronger (I totally agree). Another told me she wants to hear more about one of the characters. That’s the kind of thing that is helpful. I HATE having someone read my writing and say “Gee, it’s great!”. That either means they haven’t read it, it’s terrible, or they don’t care enough to give feedback. I need to find more people to read Part I. Even though I am in the middle of Part II it would help to have one or two more Part I readers.

I think I am quilted out for a while. I am working on my fourth quilt and it looks good so far. It’s not too far from being sent off to get quilted, but it needs those damned borders. I’ve decided I just like to put the top together and that is it.

Speaking of quilts I have a funny story. You might remember I go to a Christian women’s support group once a week. So this woman there announces she is going to make a quilt for her granddaughter. I said “I didn’t know you quilted!” And she says “I don’t. But I have a sewing machine and how hard can it be?” Ack! Here’s the thing: quilting is not rocket science but it is damned close. To do it correctly, you do need instruction. Then she announces that her granddaughter is buying yards of fabric she likes. I sure hope it is quilting fabric. Did you know you cut fabric for quilts with a rotary cutter, not scissors? I didn’t know that at all. So I will be curious about this quilt.

I feel less depressed and so does my daughter. I need to get up and walk but at least I am not crying or down. Today there is gorgeous weather here and I should get my butt out. But I need to wash my hair and get a shower. I’ll do that later so I am ready for the big shopping day tomorrow.

Remember last week we talked about my husband going to the rock and gem show? You guys would have been proud of me. I stayed 2 1/2 days without my husband and didn’t call him and cry or anything. I went shopping for a little while with my daughter and we only spent $17.

Let’s talk driving anxiety. I am still scared but it hasn’t gotten worse. I drove my daughter to the store and actually parked and backed out. I plan on driving tomorrow to do the shopping with my son. I need to get on the freeway a little. I have to do that to drive to church. I didn’t go to church on Sunday because of the freeway. Not good. I figure God understands.

Do you ever feel alienated in a group or at an activity where you know everyone? I understand feeling alienated in a strange crowd, but not somewhere I have known people for thirty years. That is crazy! But I am pretty crazy, so it works out.

I went to my well woman check last week. (If you are a female, you know this sucks.) The doctor came in and I promptly dissolved into tears. I have health anxiety and am convinced I will get some fatal disease. I’m not exactly a hypochondriac because I don’t run from doc to doc thinking something is wrong. I only go when I am truly sick or for well checks. I do keep up with the mammograms, etc.

Part of my problem here is that I know a lot of people who DO have fatal diseases. So I am absolutely ridiculous with my fear. But I think something is going on in my brain. This driving and health anxiety is getting to be a problem.

Super Bowl: Liked Lady Gaga and her singing. (Normally don’t even know who she is.) Thought half time was boring. Game was good as I wanted Carolina to get smashed. (A little tired of Cam Newton). Commercials were a letdown.

That was my week. How was yours?

hugs, lily

What the Hell Have I Been Doing?

What have I been doing? Quite a bit actually. Here’s an update on some things: Mental Health Nothing but good news here. The past few months have been outstanding. Sure, I get bouts of depression every so often, but nothing like I use to. When they do come I rebound much more quickly. I haven’t […]

The post What the Hell Have I Been Doing? appeared first on Insights From A Bipolar Bear.

Attitudes-day

Tis 8:30 a.m. Already today I have been left a comment chastising me for calling CBT bullshit. (Oh, I am a bad bad girl for having my own opinion on something that failed me, please oh please forgive me for my world will crumble if some random net person dislikes me.)  I went out to start the car and of course, Ms “I don’t do mornings” doesn’t bother with proper shoes or gloves or a coat…So I slipped on the snow, one shoe flew off, and a bare foot and two bare hands landing in the snow as I landed on my ass. EXCELLENT! I had to come in and change as I was wet and my hands so cold I was in pain. My kid is glued to the Spongebob game on her Leapster so she wouldn’t even  feed the outside cat for me, let alone express concern that I busted my ass.

THEN to improve my attitude…After a month without a single fucking problem…The car dies about sixteen times getting her to school. No, that is not being dramatic when you’re in line letting kids out and literally have to stop sixteen times. So to add to my frustration was the paranoia that some jackass would be on their phone and pull forward while I was stalled and I could hear my mother screaming in my head about her driving record, her insurance, her her her….Apparently, I can only drive safely when the temperature is over 30. Which means for the next ten day forecast I am fucked.

Right when I thought something was finally going well.

Oh, well. At least yesterday wasn’t too traumatic. I even set my phone alarm and remembered my p.m. lithium. I may get my levels right enough for a blood draw before next year, yay. My kid didn’t behave badly. I wrote about seven pages in my fiction story which I’d thought DOA due to all the stress with the donor. (And I am sorry if it’s an affront to feminism or whatever, but I still wish I’d left well enough alone cos NO amount of money is worth letting him disturb my psyche to this degree.) I started reading a book called the Cobra Event I got at Salvation Army last week. Got forty pages in before melatonin kicked in.

Ah, melatonin. I figured it being a supplement and all it would be minus the bizarre dreams that come with script sleep meds. Wrong. The other night, I had this nightmare I was back in high school, having to take gym class and shower amongst the masses. EWWWWW.  Last night’s fucked up dream de jour was about the television season and how it’s making me wait like four months for Empire and such and I was ranting at the TV execs.. I can assure you I did not go to sleep with either of these things on my mind, so what is my psyche trying to tell me? That I am traumatized and frustrated? I already knew that, ffs.

I was right yesterday, btw. When I gave myself permission to do nothing , I actually managed to do dishes and clean all the cat boxes and take out all the trash. I did more laundry, though the folding thing isn’t looking like it will happen. I am TRYING. And ya know, if my poor housekeeping is such a big deal, maybe the donor should pay child support and I could take twenty or so of my money every other week and have someone come in and help me keep up the housework. Not like I am on a soapbox declaring myself stable and sane. I may need help, as much as it galls me to ask for it. (Yeah, there are a few of you I have come sooo close to emailing on the nights the dark thoughts set in and I was scared I might listen to them…But my stubborn streak just wouldn’t allow me to “upset” others with my bullshit.)

After my mother’s “He’s gonna take her away from you!” declaration I have experienced a great deal of paranoia and self doubt. I admit, our trailer is falling apart. The car is falling apart. We get used stuff or dollar store stuff. BUT the one thing I have provided her with since the day she was born is, stability. Same home she’s always known, mom always with her or comes and gets her from grandmas or school. She is fed, clothed, she has toys, she goes to school like clockwork, I pick her up like clockwork, we have our routine every day…

The irony of how unstable I am and yet providing what is essentially the most important thing for a child- stability.

That’s gotta count for something with the court right? Should the donor try to make a play for joint custody or whatever to avoid paying support. Why else would someone say they needed to consult a lawyer on a matter of child support? R is predicting the donor is going to ask for a DNA test to prove she is his, thus delaying payment even longer. Fine, I have zero doubts. If you’re with one person only for three years, it kinda leaves you with them as the baby daddy or immaculate fucking conception.

The stomach aches and anxiety all this is causing makes me wish I’d left well enough alone. I mean, if you think about it…Here’s this guy, who snuck out his stuff and ended the marriage with a call, has ignored the child, and I am still the one who’s paying a lawyer so we can get it all settled. The donor wins again, just like he did with his other wives. He never pays for shit, he always makes them do it, while vilifying them. Yet we’re all good enough to raise the children he can’t?

Yeah, I’ve got an attitude today.

I think it is well earned, if only by frustration and anxiety.

Why oh why did I have to rock the boat by letting myself get sucked back into the donor’s vortex of deception?

K. ‘Nuff woe is me.

I got this guy for a buck at Dollar Tree a week or so back. It’s a pillow pet peewee. I call him Count Crocula.

crocula

And..in spite of fifteen plus years playing word games on neopets (no, I don’t interact with the children)…It hit me. I found this in my bedroom from some yard sale stuff I got a while back. It is called a uni and yet….IT IS A FUCKING PEGACORN!

uni

*Yes, I keep some stuffed animals, NO, I don’t care if you think it makes me a child. I will cut you so bad with a pegacorn horn you’ll wish I hadn’t cut you so bad with a pegacorn horn.*


Attitudes-day

Tis 8:30 a.m. Already today I have been left a comment chastising me for calling CBT bullshit. (Oh, I am a bad bad girl for having my own opinion on something that failed me, please oh please forgive me for my world will crumble if some random net person dislikes me.)  I went out to start the car and of course, Ms “I don’t do mornings” doesn’t bother with proper shoes or gloves or a coat…So I slipped on the snow, one shoe flew off, and a bare foot and two bare hands landing in the snow as I landed on my ass. EXCELLENT! I had to come in and change as I was wet and my hands so cold I was in pain. My kid is glued to the Spongebob game on her Leapster so she wouldn’t even  feed the outside cat for me, let alone express concern that I busted my ass.

THEN to improve my attitude…After a month without a single fucking problem…The car dies about sixteen times getting her to school. No, that is not being dramatic when you’re in line letting kids out and literally have to stop sixteen times. So to add to my frustration was the paranoia that some jackass would be on their phone and pull forward while I was stalled and I could hear my mother screaming in my head about her driving record, her insurance, her her her….Apparently, I can only drive safely when the temperature is over 30. Which means for the next ten day forecast I am fucked.

Right when I thought something was finally going well.

Oh, well. At least yesterday wasn’t too traumatic. I even set my phone alarm and remembered my p.m. lithium. I may get my levels right enough for a blood draw before next year, yay. My kid didn’t behave badly. I wrote about seven pages in my fiction story which I’d thought DOA due to all the stress with the donor. (And I am sorry if it’s an affront to feminism or whatever, but I still wish I’d left well enough alone cos NO amount of money is worth letting him disturb my psyche to this degree.) I started reading a book called the Cobra Event I got at Salvation Army last week. Got forty pages in before melatonin kicked in.

Ah, melatonin. I figured it being a supplement and all it would be minus the bizarre dreams that come with script sleep meds. Wrong. The other night, I had this nightmare I was back in high school, having to take gym class and shower amongst the masses. EWWWWW.  Last night’s fucked up dream de jour was about the television season and how it’s making me wait like four months for Empire and such and I was ranting at the TV execs.. I can assure you I did not go to sleep with either of these things on my mind, so what is my psyche trying to tell me? That I am traumatized and frustrated? I already knew that, ffs.

I was right yesterday, btw. When I gave myself permission to do nothing , I actually managed to do dishes and clean all the cat boxes and take out all the trash. I did more laundry, though the folding thing isn’t looking like it will happen. I am TRYING. And ya know, if my poor housekeeping is such a big deal, maybe the donor should pay child support and I could take twenty or so of my money every other week and have someone come in and help me keep up the housework. Not like I am on a soapbox declaring myself stable and sane. I may need help, as much as it galls me to ask for it. (Yeah, there are a few of you I have come sooo close to emailing on the nights the dark thoughts set in and I was scared I might listen to them…But my stubborn streak just wouldn’t allow me to “upset” others with my bullshit.)

After my mother’s “He’s gonna take her away from you!” declaration I have experienced a great deal of paranoia and self doubt. I admit, our trailer is falling apart. The car is falling apart. We get used stuff or dollar store stuff. BUT the one thing I have provided her with since the day she was born is, stability. Same home she’s always known, mom always with her or comes and gets her from grandmas or school. She is fed, clothed, she has toys, she goes to school like clockwork, I pick her up like clockwork, we have our routine every day…

The irony of how unstable I am and yet providing what is essentially the most important thing for a child- stability.

That’s gotta count for something with the court right? Should the donor try to make a play for joint custody or whatever to avoid paying support. Why else would someone say they needed to consult a lawyer on a matter of child support? R is predicting the donor is going to ask for a DNA test to prove she is his, thus delaying payment even longer. Fine, I have zero doubts. If you’re with one person only for three years, it kinda leaves you with them as the baby daddy or immaculate fucking conception.

The stomach aches and anxiety all this is causing makes me wish I’d left well enough alone. I mean, if you think about it…Here’s this guy, who snuck out his stuff and ended the marriage with a call, has ignored the child, and I am still the one who’s paying a lawyer so we can get it all settled. The donor wins again, just like he did with his other wives. He never pays for shit, he always makes them do it, while vilifying them. Yet we’re all good enough to raise the children he can’t?

Yeah, I’ve got an attitude today.

I think it is well earned, if only by frustration and anxiety.

Why oh why did I have to rock the boat by letting myself get sucked back into the donor’s vortex of deception?

K. ‘Nuff woe is me.

I got this guy for a buck at Dollar Tree a week or so back. It’s a pillow pet peewee. I call him Count Crocula.

crocula

And..in spite of fifteen plus years playing word games on neopets (no, I don’t interact with the children)…It hit me. I found this in my bedroom from some yard sale stuff I got a while back. It is called a uni and yet….IT IS A FUCKING PEGACORN!

uni

*Yes, I keep some stuffed animals, NO, I don’t care if you think it makes me a child. I will cut you so bad with a pegacorn horn you’ll wish I hadn’t cut you so bad with a pegacorn horn.*


fuck bipolar

Bipolar II disorder compared to bipolar I disorder – the results are not what you would expect

Based on the following article: “American tertiary clinic-referred bipolar II disorder compared to bipolar I disorder: More severe in multiple ways, but less severe in a few other ways” Dell’Osso, […]

Round 2

Well, its been awhile since I cracked open the ol’ laptop and logged into WordPress.  It often makes me cringe when I reread my old post as they act as a reminder of times I wish to forget.  But I find myself with some extra time on my hands thanks to another job ending.  In short, I was told that I seem to aggressive.

By no means am I a fighter.  I am a believer in doing what is right or shall I say, what I think is right and I don’t back down.  Hmm, I guess that is aggressive, huh, who knew!

The first thing I did after bashing my employer to my husband, I reorganized my family room and kitchen, tiled a new back-splash and tried this really awesome faux marble finish on my kitchen counter.  I thought I would take a break from ripping up my bathroom floor tile to catch up with some blogging.

Here’s a question, how is a rapid cycling bipolar suppose to survive in this world?  I know, I know, that sound really pessimistic but seriously, my “attitude”, inability to stay on task and constant doctor appointments always get in the way.  The only time it wasn’t an issue was when I worked overnights in the medical field but then I didn’t get more than 4 hours sleep in a day.  During that career choice, my husband would confirm that he saw the venom spewing from my lips.

The first thing I did when I was let go was call my psychiatrist to get my meds in check.  I had been saying for months that I didn’t like the combo and felt more angry than I felt I should.  We are now removing lithium (much to her dismay) and going aggressively up on Latuda and Lamictal.  My doctor was adamant that lithium was a bipolar powerhouse that works for everyone and I should stick it out.  I assured her that after almost 2 years, I felt I stuck with it long enough.  I was always told through my years of doctors and therapy that in mental health, there was no one size fits all.  She avoided my gaze after I told her that but was unsure if she didn’t want to acknowledge I was right or if my “don’t make me go all bipolar stereotype in this office” stare was starting into burn her forehead.

So here I am, medication regimen changing, out of work, sending out applications to everyone even though my resume hasn’t included one job held longer than 1 year in the past 4, and trying to stay positive.  As horribly cliche as it sounds, I keep asking myself, what the hell am I suppose to do!  I’m 33, sole supporter of a family of 5 with no job prospects on the horizon.

My question to you those struggling with mental health issues, How the hell do you do it?!?  What are your coping skills, how do you “fake it until you make it?”  If I read one more medical community post telling me to take responsibility for my actions or to make a friggin’ task list I am going to scream.  I take responsibility for everything, in fact too much thanks to my overwhelming guilt.  Oh and lists!  I make so many lists, my house is covered in post-its and I carry not one but 4….FOUR notebooks to hold my lists for different areas of my life.

That is all!

-Hypomanic Mama