Daily Archives: November 1, 2017
Yes, that is really the best title I could think of. I had a good day yesterday and now I am back to blargh. Cold, gray day. I didn’t get to sleep quick last night (not my kid’s fault for a change) and I didn’t stay asleep. Like that every month waiting for the check to come in so I can go get bills paid. It’s depressing to see how fast the money goes, but until my stuff is paid…I walk on eggshells. Always afraid of the next banking snafu or social security/electronic deposit glitch. Getting stuff paid is what makes me feel safe and secure. So that’s what I did this morning. Then my dumb ass spent a half hour trying to figure out how to connect a dvd player to a TV to test at the shop. Yay. Too many fucking inputs and outputs, I miss old school TV’s and VCR’s. (What do you expect, I drive 1993 car and still consider it too new.)
I got a jolt yesterday. INSPIRATION. I had no ideas for Halloween costumes, no money, and I was already stressing out over bills and my kid’s behavior and the demands placed on me…I was totally in “fuck it” space. Then I thought…NO. Depression ruined Halloween for me last year, I did little but play chauffeur for my kid to loot for candy. This year…The cloud lifted briefly, creativity burst through, and I knew what my costume was gonna be, not a cent to be spent.
Spook was a dark angel.
As I already had the devil baby doll (I named him Demonicus)…I became Rosemary and baby, conmplete with baby sling and horns that lit up red.
Good chance this will be our family portrait anti holiday card.
Amazingly, we had fun together. Driving after dark was unnerving, but it wasn’t too cold and there was no drama. My devil doll did creep out a few people, made a few people laugh, and oddly…that tween girl who said she was gonna kick my big fat butt…yelled out the car window that my costume was awesome. Hmm. Must be my creative fat butt.
I am gonna leave it at that. One good night, finished off with watching the original Halloween movie.
On a final note…I got this stuffed Freddy this summer for a quarter at a yard sale and hooked him up with some wheels stolen from Spook’s toys.
Maybe if I end up in the wacko basket, they will let me take Freddy with me. He’s all soft and squishy. Demonicus is hard plastic and those horns really could be used as,albeit, an odd weapon.
I had a good day after many many bad ones. Back to blargh.But the one good day counts. It counts for a lot.
As is the custom in Mississippi, today started the November rains. It was beautiful alst night for trick or treating, then it turned nasty this morning for the commute in to work. ANd about half my students showed up for class–hope it is not the beginning of a trend. We’re just now getting to the interesting parts of English Lit to me so I’d hate to see them miss out on it by not showing up.
WE really did have fun with trick or treaters. We had a girl show up in the best mummy costume I have ever seen; it looked handmade out of really delicate material and totally covered her body except for her face. Had a bunch of kids with homemade costumes too; those are always interesting to see. Saw an Ole Miss fan kid and a few football players, saw a lot of cartoon characters. Two of the cutest tiny ones were dressed up like an old lady and her husband; I think they were twins because they were together and the same size.
We really need to get on our Christmas shopping soon; we have hardly anything bought for the kids except for the youngest one. This Christmas will likely be the last one with everybody at home so we want to make it special and memorable.
I’m holding up fairly well this morning even with the bad weather. I woke up a lot last night and don’t know why–but I’m not as sleepy this morning as I could be. Hopefully I am over that kind of sluggishness for good. that would be so nice. Now if only I had the energy to do everything that needs doing around the house.
Everything old is constantly new again. The realization that this hellish illness has stolen so much from me personally, it’s even taken my brother.
My marriage almost ended, and hellishly, I have traumatized my precious son because of this illness.
The five years I was on *Lamictal, constantly in hypomania, almost destroyed my life.
*Lamictal, the best new drug for bipolar disorder in the early 2000’s. Everyone was being put on it, including myself. Later they realized it only works for Bipolar 2 Disorder and should never be given to people with Bipolar 1 Disorder as it puts these people in hypomania. Yes I was one of the early experimental subjects, though without my consent. And being in hypomania for 5-6 years, imagine what that does to someone’s life! Nothing good, I can tell you that. So not only has this illness tried to destroy me but the medications which were prescribed to control its symptoms, those very medications have exacerbated the illness, made it worse, tested my mettle and my strength. Anyway, enough about that, I’m still here.
And I’m on the path to reclaim my life, reclaim myself from the awful effects of this illness as well as some medications.
I have lived in fear and constant anxiety for at least the last two years. I’m ready to let that go and really reclaim my life and myself. Let go of the devastation, let in the light and take control of my life.
I am on Lithium, have been since 2009. My mood’s been pretty stable except for the massive anxiety. Dealing with it.
I feel like I have to forgive myself for my behavior when I was hypomanic for 5-6 years while on Lamictal. I feel I have to let go of the guilt for the pain I caused my family, especially my darling son. And my dear husband. Of course they bore the brunt of it because I lived with them.
I will make amends. I will ask their forgiveness.
I will forgive myself.
And I will go on with as little fear and anxiety as I can possibly manage.
I will take positive actions in my life, not just remediate the negative past.
I have some very positive actions in mind.
The main thing is that like an earthquake, one feels the aftershocks days after the main one, well the aftereffects of being hypomanic for years last a long time as well. Realizing how one’s life was almost destroyed is horrendous, truly it is!
But moving past that is miraculous. It is pure strength and confidence. And that is what I’m working on now.
Wish me luck.
…and boy, am I ever glad I’m not where I was three years ago tonight.
The hospital was the best place for me then and I knew it, even though I’d have given almost anything to take my grandsons out trick-or-treating instead. I had never fallen so far down the rabbit hole before, and I don’t recall ever feeling so lost and alone in my entire life. My husband Will, as dear as he was, didn’t understand and there was no way I could describe it to make him understand. I remember telling him that I wanted to hurt myself; his response was as emphatic as it was unhelpful: “No, you don’t! Don’t say that!!”
It was at that point that he demanded I call Dr. Awesomesauce or he would do it for me. At first I refused, because I knew Dr. A would put me in the hospital and I was terrified of being locked up. Then it dawned on me that what was going on in my life outside those doors was more terrifying than whatever awaited me on the inside, so I agreed to go. I was so depressed that I truly could not stand myself any longer, and I said as much in the brief blog post I published that day.
I remember sitting in the “suicide room” at the ER for six long hours, waiting to be transferred to the psych unit in a neighboring town. Will stayed with me until I insisted that he go to the cafeteria for something to eat; that’s when a security guard came in to watch me from the nurse’s station. I didn’t understand why they considered that necessary; anything I could have harmed myself with was at home. There was absolutely NOTHING in that room I could’ve used—all the medical equipment was locked away in the cabinets, there was no call light, not even a TV. It was the same when I got to the unit; I couldn’t have a fan or TV because of the electrical cords, and of course there were no outlets so I couldn’t have plugged in anything anyway. It’s all about safety…and that was exactly what I needed.
It was also a turning point in my illness. I have never again experienced such profound depression, nor have my manic phases been anything but mild mood elevation. My meds were adjusted in the hospital and they’re in just the right doses to control the worst of my symptoms without making me flat and uninterested in life. I’m not under any illusions that I’ll never have another bipolar episode, but it sure feels good this Halloween. Even if I don’t get to take my grandsons out again this year…I can’t drive at night anymore, and they’re almost getting too old to take to the streets in search of candy. Oh well, you win some and you lose some. Right now I’m winning!