Monthly Archives: July 2018

Hello From My Study :)

I am in the STUDY of my new home, people!!!  Looking out at a gorgeous crabapple tree with gobs of birds in it and a lovely greenspace!!  Oh. My. God!!!  Has my life improved!!  It is sooooo goooood to be gone from the shithole apartment!!! I didn’t realize how oppressive it was.  Well, on some days I did, but I suppressed my feelings about it because I knew I had to live there.  But now, living somewhere beautiful, and quiet, is just so nurturing and happiness-producing!

I did have a setback last weekend.  I found mouse droppings in my living room and I pretty much lost my shit.  I’m pretty sure it came in through the gas fireplace.  I took my ass over to Target so fast to buy mouse poison, your head would’ve spinned!!  I was pretty thrown off for quite a few days, but now I’m pretty sure the mouse is gone.  I haven’t seen any droppings in many days, or any signs that the poison has been eaten any further.  And believe me, I watch it with an eagle eye!  For a couple of days I thought my new apartment was ruined, but alas, it is not.  Hallelujah.

I do have to say, I’m just on this side of functioning in life.  My job is exhausting me!  I just plain wasn’t made to work full-time.  Or maybe it’s my age.  Or my illness.  Whatever the case may be, I pretty much get up, go to work, come home, and go to bed.  I lay in bed on an ice pack and eat something like carrots & celery and drink my “cocktail” (Sparkling Ice) and I fall asleep ridiculously early listening to Oprah Super Soul Sessions podcasts.  Once in awhile my little sister and my niece will come over to swim after work and then we’ll have dinner, but that’s the exception, not the rule.  And after those times I’m super-duper exhausted, but I need the social contact.  I’ve been pretty lonely because my lack of functioning leaves me with very little social contact, besides work.

I’m getting between 5,000-10,000 steps in at work and I’m still tracking what I eat, so my weight is still very slowly going down.  That makes me very, very happy and grateful.  We had a family reunion two weekends ago which was a marathon of socializing and a marathon of overeating.  It was hard to get back on track after that.  I haven’t been walking in the mornings like I was at the old shithole.  I keep meaning to, but somehow I don’t.  Again, it comes down to my level of functioning.  I’m doing what I can, people.  And I’m just keeping the work train humming along right now.

Aside from the mouse crisis and some loneliness, my mood is still pretty stable, thank God!!  Summer makes everything easier.  I do have a bit of a feeling of dread as I notice that it’s getting light later and later in the morning, and getting dark earlier and earlier at night.  That, I hate.  For the most part though, I am still a very grateful person for everything that’s going on in my life.  Things have improved so damn much, from living in the shithole and being jobless, to the job with the horrible commute, to now, where I live in super-deluxe digs, and my job is two miles down the road and I can come home for lunch.  Yeah!  I’m grateful.

I’m curious how other people handle their level of functioning, working full time, having a life, etc.  I’d love to hear from you in the Comments regarding this, or anything else you’d wish to share.  BIG HUGS to all of you!!  BPOF.

Non Fictional Anxiety

Over my years on disability, I’ve been asked How does your condition(s) impact your ability to function normally on a daily basis. During my years blogging about said conditions, I have received a plethora of advice telling me to exercise, meditate, use herbal supplements, envision myself calm and unaffected, be strong, be tough, blah blah blah. (Well meaning people are the bane of my existence because they really don’t get it.)

Today the enormity of my anxiety disorder/panic disorder is slamming into home plate with a cleated shoe to my face.

I’m watching a fictional tv show where most of the characters, including the cops, are corrupt, lying, backstabbing assholes and the only decent characters are all getting screwed over and gaslit by the assholes…and my heart is pounding, my paranoia is up, and it all feels like it may as well be happening to me. I feel scared, outraged, helpless, and I am about to just give up on the final four episodes (it only lived one season) because my fight or flight response is hammering at my psyche…

THIS. This is how my conditions impact my daily functioning. I can’t even watch a fucking tv show because it triggers fight or flight.

Going for a jog, doing some jumping jacks, and inhaling essential oils does not correct whatever is crossed in my brain causing inappropriate messages to make me feel inappropriate emotions and physical responses.

So while some may perservere by jogging 10 miles a day and huffing essence of pegacorn farts…

I’m not so fortunate. And I hate this shit with every fiber of my fucked up being because I can’t even date or eat in a restaurant or go to an amusement park lest the fight or flight panic be set off and send me into a sweating, pretzel gutted foul odor emitting trainwreck.

Yesterday it was the black depression kicking my ass. Today it’s the anxiety.

17 days til my next med check appointment with yet another new psych nurse. Maybe she’ll tell me to stick a spoon on my nose and walk around the block while singing “Yankee Doodle”. After being told by one well meaning person to rub patchouli oil on my pulse points as it would help with depression and anxiety but instead made me sneeze, itch, get hives, and cough until I retched…

It goes to show I’m willing and desperate enough to try pretty much anything but as usual the one size fits all mentality simply doesn’t fit me. I’m oddly propertioned psychologically, I guess.

Irritable. Hypomanic. Parenting Fail.

Trying to keep hypomania at bay. NAMI training this weekend. IBPF panel next Tuesday. Frustrated with parenting newly adult son with social anxiety and migraines.…

Dear Followers…Sorry…Really, I Am Sorry

I received two donations towards Spook’s birthday/school clothes funds and due to shit memory, I forgot my password to log into gofundme so I could send proper thank yous days ago. I keep thinking, ‘I’ll feel better tomorrow” but…meh, depression doesn’t really work that way. I seem to get one high functioning day a week and I never know when that will be so…I truly am sorry for my breach in etiquette, for we truly are grateful for the donations. Every little bit help, and even a share helps restore faith in humankind. Even if this week I have been a poor example myself with shit manners. Really am sorry.

I am hormonal, crampy, and my sleep has become so plagued with disturbance, I never feel rested. Just exhausted all the damned time and you’d think the doctor might want to do something about that but meh, they toss either coma drugs or weak ass anti-histamine-wanna-be-sleep-drugs because the stuff that works for actual sleep like Lunesta or whatever isn’t covered by shit insurance so sucks to be me.

And today, it really does suck to be me. I am in such a dark, listless space. When I say all I look forward to is bedtime..today is one of those days when it’s not merely a mind frame. It’s literally all I can think of every two minutes, clock watching, waiting, hoping the time passes quickly, praying for night time so I can shed this day and this mind frame like the nasty rotting layer of skin it is. I even tried to outrage myself into a different state of mind by giving in and watching the freaky futuristic Altered Carbon. But I can’t even work up outrage today. I am in a blackened room and sleep is my only respite but tick tock slowly goes the clock…5 and a half hours at least before the spawn wears down and crashes so I can follow suit.

I’d like to say “I’d kill” for a good night’s sleep but apparently these days, you can’t publicly say a fucking thing without it coming back to haunt you as being in bad taste, poor humor, racially insensitive, disrespectful of murder victims and the dead, who the fuck knows. Last time I was on a page about the current supreme court nominee there was clickbait about Zac Efron sporting dreads so people were in an uproar about A FUCKING HAIRSTYLE. Because white people haven’t been sporting dreads as fun fashion statements until right this fucking news cyclel. God, the idiocy around us boggles the mind. Makes me grateful I have whacked out brain chemicals and can be set off by such stupidity. Because if I had ‘normal’ brain chemicals like the masses allegedly do, then I’d be just as intellectually emaciated as them. A FUCKING HAIRSTYLE TRUMPS SOME DUDE WHO IS GOING TO GET A LIFETIME APPOINTMENT TO THE SUPREME COURT.

I’m starting to think the current state of things in the U.S> is a new mental disorder of its own called Trumpdashian Braindeath. If you can look around and not be depressed, you’re either on better drugs, delusional, or Republican. (Oh, that will bite me on the ass, no doubt, but hey, if you’re a Republican with enough intelligence to at least respect differing opinions, no problem here, it’s the mindless followers I want to club with Z-whackers.) Fuck. I went political, that’s never good and it was never something I gave a damn about until…well, everyone started drinking the Kool-Aid. Nothing pisses me off more than mindless following, religious or political affiliation be damned. Think for yourself, have your principles, but for fuck’s sake, never be too zealous to admit when you might be wrong or others’ points of view might be valid, too. Even I can do that much, which is why I triple and quadruple check any story I read about current political events. Much as I like a great witch hunt, I’m thinking multiple sources of multiple affiliations, you’re probably close to the truth there. And more than being right or being agreed with, I just want the fucking truth.

Even when it feeds the Frankenstein that is my depression. I can’t believe how far down the rabbit hole I have fallen, and some of it must be related to improper sleep. Even when my kid’s not home for me to stress out about, I can’t stay asleep. And I want to stay asleep.

So there you have it. Sorry, truly, for lapses in etiquette and my gratitude is true.

Sorry not sorry for the political tirade, it’s gotten downright asinine out there and since I am willing to admit my view isn’t the only view or even necessarily the right view…I have no use for others who can’t do the same. It may cost me followers but…I’m so far down the rabbit hole, launching a few social nukes seems the least of my worries.

And the true blue who read this blog because it resonates in some way…won’t be run off by some hormonal prattling and a small tirade about what we all know to be true. Half of America has joined a cult and aren’t just drinking the Kool-Aid, they’re snorting it in dry powder form, too.

To those I offended who are decent human beings….well, me having my own, perhaps contrary opinion, wouldn’t offend you if you were decent, so….meh.

Sick

I’ve been sick since about 2 a.m. with an upset stomach and just now finally feel up tp typing.  I had such a full day planned and had to cancel it all.  And I can’t eat.  So I am feeling extremely crummy today.  I wont’ go into details, but I’ve been good and sick.

So I am going to wrap this up quickly so I can go back to bed and rest some more.  Hope everyone has a good weekend,

 

I have bipolar disorder and it’s not my fault

I’ve been really open about my struggles with bipolar disorder.  Before I had a good handle on this illness it really rocked my world.  I’ve come to learn that bipolar disorder will destroy your life if you don’t get the proper treatment and learn how to manage the condition.  It can be life threatening during times of severe depression episodes and suicidal thoughts.  It can put us at risk during manic episodes which often lead to psychotic episodes.

After my initial diagnosis I felt terribly ashamed.  The other day I was thinking about an analogy people might be able to relate to.  If you’ve ever had a night of drinking way too much alcohol and you engaged in embarrassing behaviors, the next day you might wake up with not only a hangover but guilty feelings about your behavior.  The things you said and did while drunk didn’t take away the fact you said and did those things.

This is what happened to me during manic and psychotic episodes.  I’d say and do things and then when I was stable I’d have to deal with the guilt of what happened.  The guilt leads to shame and the terrible tapes rolled in my head about what a bad person I was for having been sick.

But after many years of learning about bipolar disorder, I don’t feel badly about what happened to me while sick.  I’ve come to learn that I have bipolar disorder and it’s not my fault.  What is my accountability is now that I’m stable I need to manage my condition so well I won’t ever end up in a compromising position again.

But if for some reason I have break through symptoms, I’m not going to be ashamed.  I’m going to be proactive and do everything I can to manage my condition.  And if I have moments where I feel a little paranoid, make up a story or two based on that paranoia, I’ll live with it too.

One day people are going to realize mental illness doesn’t make you crazy, it just makes us vulnerable.  I wouldn’t blame myself for having cancer.  I’m not going to blame myself for having a mental illness.  And neither should the general public.

 

 

 

 

Next Tuesday: International #Bipolar Foundation Panel

International Bipolar Foundation Women’s Mental Health Panel July 31, 2018 at 6PM Mission Valley Library 2123 Fenton Parkway San Diego, CA 92108 Ask about my and other women’s experiences living with bipolar disorder. To attend, register HERE.

Up Early

So I am awake early so I can take my youngest to her church event at 9 a.m.   I feel good being up on time and not dragging along so much as usual. Maybe school starting soon won’t be so hard on me.

Speaking of which, I am teaching this fall–I have a full class thus far but we will see how many we have left by the end of September. I’m not going to be hard on them I don’t think, but I am going to demand they do the readings as homework and state that demand early on so there is no confusion.  We will see how many weed themselves out.

I am getting better.  The past two days I haven’t gone back to sleep in the afternoon.  I’ve kept myself busy doing stuff.  Not big stuff, but little stuff, like laundry and what not.  And I’ve been writing on a new project I’m really excited about so that has kept me busy as well.

Hope everyone has a good rest of the week and a good weekend.  Keep praying for me as I try to get better and better every day.

 

Heavily Medicated For Your Protection

The Zyprexa is working.

Dammit. I should have known how much I needed it.

Like I said a couple of posts ago, I’d really hoped to come down or even off some of my meds. But the truth is, the higher dose of Vitamin Z is taking care of both my sleep and my racing thoughts; with rare exceptions I’m getting to bed by 1 AM, and I sleep through the night. What astonishes me is how much my brain has quieted down…the static in my head has faded out, and I’m not chasing stray thoughts all over the universe. I didn’t know there was anything that could do that.

The other night I was lying in bed thinking (not obsessing) about all of this. It’s kind of like sleeping in the most comfortable bed you’ve ever been in, and waking up every 90 minutes or so to marvel at how comfortable you are. I have actually done this. Will and I once stayed in an exclusive hotel that was right on the beach, and I remember this huge queen bed with down pillows, a down mattress topper and down comforters. It was like lying on a cloud. I barely slept at all that night because I was TOO cozy. Does that make sense?

Yes, the fire of hypomania has been banked, and as much as I hate to admit it I feel a lot more settled. It’s nice not to lie in bed at 4 in the morning, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if I should keep trying to fall asleep or if I should just get up, drink some coffee and start the day. It also doesn’t hurt that I made it through the second anniversary of Will’s passing and am on a more even keel emotionally. I don’t like being groggy in the mornings and I’m definitely more so than I was, and I average about 9-10 hours’ sleep now. But it’s better than 2-3 hours a night, and I really do enjoy the slower pace of my thoughts. You just don’t know how bad the noise and the disorganization are until they’re not there anymore.

Of course, this probably means I’ll stay on the increased dose for awhile, maybe even for good. Or maybe it’ll just be through the summer…all I know is that I have three months’ worth of refills. After fielding some slings and arrows from friends, I’ve come to the conclusion that it really shouldn’t matter how much medication I’m on, I have to take the amount that works. And Dr. Goodenough is more on top of things than I gave him credit for. He wanted to increase the Zyprexa a month sooner, and I refused. Bad decision on my part. I was starting to spend too much money and my checking account was overdrawn for the first time in years, and I wasn’t sleeping well at least three nights out of the week. I may have only been mildly hypomanic, but if I hadn’t regained some control of my sleep I would have gotten a lot worse. I know. I’ve seen me do it.

Now, all I have to do is get past this notion that I’m overmedicated. Sometimes in the mornings when it takes an act of God to propel me out of bed, I want to chuck the whole kit and caboodle. I HATE being so drowsy when I wake up. I’d rather be able to pop up like I do when I’ve slept only a couple of hours. But as we all know, sleep is crucial when one is grappling with bipolar disorder, and historically I have not done well when I don’t get enough of it.

The extra Zyprexa has also been helpful in keeping my anxiety at bay during the past few days. Some things have happened lately that are causing all of us to worry, and of course I go from 0 to 60 in seconds when I’m stressed AF by events beyond my control. It’s hard not to freak out when everything seems to be going to hell in the proverbial bushel basket. But so far I’ve been able to stay relatively calm and be something of a voice of reason. Who knew?

Trying to Stay Positive

Trying to keep on the positive side.  My youngest is home but getting ready to ship out again, this time with the church. She is looking forward to this event and I hope it makes a difference in her life for having gone.

I got my meds refilled so I did that correctly. Just trying to do what all I’m supposed to do. I need to swap the laundry around and get to work on it more this afternoon.

My friends up in Ohio finally caught a break–my friend’s wife had lost her job, and she’s already found a new one right off the bat.  So they can continue to have insurance to treat his colon cancer.  I’ve been praying for them for months that things would start to turn around, and it looks like they have.  God is so good.

I need to get back to writing this morning–Ive been goofing off with my youngest but now she is absorbed in her book so I can type for a while.  Hope everyone has a good rest of the week!