- Processed Meats Associated with Manic Episodes
- It’s All About The Birthday Girl
- Off Kilter And The Bad Thoughts Are Knocking At The Door
- Yes, I have a ‘mental disorder.’ But it’s not being transgender.
- Survival Of The Scared Shitless
- Another Appointment
- Good Day So Far
- Follow Up
- Delusion or truth. Again.
Daily Archives: November 21, 2017
Just made a very sad discovery about someone I know who needs prayers desperately. It hit me really hard to see her email about it this morning. I do not know what to do for her except to pray for her healing.
I had a good session with Tillie this morning, telling her about how well everything seems to be going. I’m holding up well under what used to be a very difficult time of year. But we will see how everything goes after this.
Bob is not doing well–he is badly congested and needs to be able to recover and he certainly won’t be able to do that at deer camp for Thanksgiving. But we plan to leave Friday and come home so maybe it won’t do so much damage to his system.
I;m trying to get laundry done and all before we leave. I’ve done my classwork for the week and hopefully will be able to spend tomorrow baking for the trip. I want to do a peach cobbler, a blueberry cobbler, and a batch of chocolate chip cookies. SO we will see how all of that goes tomorrow.
I hope everyone has a very good THanksgiving week and remembers to do what we can for the less fortunate among us.
In spite of a churning gut and back breaking cramps I was forced awake at 5:45 a.m. by Vex kitten for it was face eating eardrum shattering crying time for him. My kid had already disrupted my sleep by waking me up to get in my bed so by then I was good and agitated and unwilling to take any Xanax that might make me fall back to sleep….So I gave up on the sleep thing even if I held tight to the warm blankie thing.
Today was a big day for me, errands wise. Trash had to be gathered and put outside. Then I had three baskets of wet laundry to drag to the car and bring to the shop to dry. Then I had to hit the mega supermarker that I can’t fucking stand to get several things for our family fangsgiving shindig Thursday. Which resulted in such a bad stomach I could have spent an hour in the bathroom but no, because now I am on “get a different car time’ which means yes even my stress related digestive issues come in last place.
Now the hives have started!
To make sure I didn’t get any sort of peace, the service engine soon light came on in the car!!!!
And my mechanic is still out of state on his other job, not that he’d have time to help me anyway and God knows my dad is useless. I tried to tell him last night about MAngo dying and Shady being injured and he just kept talking about how cute their stray kittens are….I have NO support system here. I am to the breaking point where I tell them all to fuck off. I can’t sleep, my stomach is upset whether I eat or not, nothing is being fixed or replaced as promised no matter how much servitude I put in, I am breaking out in bloody hives….and to add insult to injury I will go tell this to the doc nurse (next week, I think) and she will treat me with less dignity than the drive thru clerk who hands me my fries and tells me to have a nice day.
Am I stressed and hormonal and annoyed? Fuck yeah.
It doesn’t make me wrong and it sure as hell doesn’t change the bizarre physical reactions to all this anxiety and it sure as fuck does not make the people around me pay an iota of attention to my spiraling downward and when they do finally notice….they’ll just shake their heads and cluck their tongues and talk about how they knew all along I would melt down and how poor Spook deserves a better mother. And I can predict this because it’s what they’ve done and said my whole life.
It’s not an assumption or paranoia when time after time, the reaction is just the same. Sometimes, even well meaning “we love you” people are shitty.
At this juncture my only saving grace is that I have not been violent with anyone. So let’s just hope my prescription coverage doesn’t do away with mood stabilizers and I can keep convincing myself these people aren’t worth the prison time that would come with bashing them upside the head with a Z Whacker.
Lamictal may not help depression but it does a fine job of sparing ignorant people the ass beating they so richly deserve. They should thank me for taking my pills.
*No homicidal urges here, just hormones and anxiety and frustration but really…They should thank me for taking my mood stabilizer. Sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me from at least whipping out the verbal chainsaw and cutting down the bridge then burning it to the ground. My feelings may be extreme but they count and being discounted constantly….I really think my self control and the effectiveness of lamictal should be lauded.
Every so often I take a look at the blogs I have written over the past four years and see which ones people view the most. Tonight I noticed one of the most popular was “Rebuilding a Bipolar Life.” It was written almost four years ago. It had to do with my quest to work on my spiritual self.
Another blog that has been very popular has been “Bipolar Disorder Destroys Life and then what’s next?” It was written a little over three years ago. If you’ve been following my blog or Facebook page you probably know I have found my “what’s next.”
After reading the blogs and comments I’m inspired to write a letter to my fellow bipolar warriors about some of the things I’ve learned from reflecting back in time.
Dear Bipolar Warriors,
I’m not sure where you are in the journey of living with bipolar disorder. You may be newly diagnosed and confused as heck about this illness. You might still be struggling trying to find the right combinations of medications. Like me, you may have experienced a significant amount of loss because of bipolar disorder. Maybe you’re kicking it and have mastered how to live well with bipolar. Wherever you are on the journey here are a few things I’ve learned along the way.
Living with a chronic mental illness is challenging. Okay. That’s clearly an understatement. There are challenges with people who are close to you understanding the illness, accepting that sometimes you’re not always going to feel well and giving you a chance to live to your potential when you are well. There are complications with relationships. It all gets better over time.
Some days it gets frustrating to have to fill pill boxes (I fill three weeks at a time). But looking back I can tell you there was a time when I would sit on the edge of my bed, dump the pills in my hand and begrudge having to take them. I would think, “I’m sick. Why me?” Then I would swallow them and go to bed feeling “less than.” Fast forward over three years, it’s just part of my every day habit. The pill boxes make it easy. It’s a habit and I rarely ever forget to take the medications. That’s what has been keeping me healthy.
But. It doesn’t mean I have to like the whole process. I don’t like having to call in the pharmacy for all my meds. It’s a pain. Some days I wish I didn’t have to do this, but it’s all part of managing the illness. Without meds I have no idea where I’d be and I’m not ever going to take that chance to find out. One could say, “Been there, done that.” If you’re curious about that journey you can find my book “Bipolar Disorder, My Biggest Competitor” on Amazon.
I am a strong proponent of finding the right combination of medications. Besides my own story, I have my mother and sister’s examples and almost all the people who I have met needed medications to deal with this very tricky illness. But it’s a bear finding the right ones. Don’t give up. Keep trying. If you don’t like the doctor you are seeing, find a new one. Learn about the medications for bipolar disorder. Click here to find information on medications.
I can also share with you that recovery is possible and very likely if you have the knowledge, determination and access to care necessary. But it’s also the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. For those who don’t know, I’m an Olympic athlete and that was pretty darn challenging. Recovery makes training for the Olympics seem easy. And let’s not forget recovery does not mean “cured.” It means different things to different people. For me, it means I can use my talents and skills and contribute to my community. It means I live a peaceful existence. And I mange my illness to the best of my ability.
But. There are other warriors out there who are in pain. They’re having a frustrating time with dealing with bipolar. Medications are causing bad side effects. I understand. What I can tell you from experience is don’t give up.
I’m gonna sum it all up and say what has worked for me might not work for you. But I can tell you that you must have a desire to get well, dedication to find a successful treatment plan, discipline to stick with the treatment plan and the determination to beat this very challenging competitor.
Good luck warriors. You are not alone.