Author Archives: Gamayun

Working Again

I have a new job. 🙂

The company is great. It’s got just over 7.000 employees worldwide. The atmosphere is great, people are friendly and welcoming. They are taking a month to train us, before we ever go out on the floor and help customers (it’s a call-center). Getting 4 weeks of training is great, because it means that we should be well-able to handle almost all situations that come up without too much trouble after all this training.

I really like the atmosphere. It’s warm and welcoming. The office is huge and great. It’s colorful and has places for us to cool down and chill out during our breaks and lunch time. We have little lockers to put our bags in, and coat racks to put winter jackets in during colder months. The bright colors are nice. There are large glass windows that give stunning views of Bellevue (where the office is), and across to downtown Seattle in the distance. I think from some areas we can see Mt. Rainier out the windows.

I’m very excited to have this job. I was hired to be a German-language representative. So I get to help out customers who speak German on a daily basis. However, on a daily basis I will speak English as well, to back up the English speakers as needed. So I’m very happy that I get to use my German-language skills in my new job.

That’s what I’ve been dealing with for the last week, is my first week of training. Before that, I’ve been busy in orientation and getting all set up to start work here. That’s why my posting has been rather scant.

Long Pause

Sorry for being silent this month.

It’s just been very hectic. Lots of stuff has happened to me.

On the upside – I got a new job. I start 2 June. I’m very excited to have my new job. The only bad part of my job is that I’ll be driving 1.5+ hours each way per day for at least the next month. After June, hopefully I get a schedule where I can cut my commute time to 1 hour each way. Still, I’m very happy, and I’m looking forward to it.

There has been some major drama that has gone down in my family. Nothing to do with me for once. (Also a good thing–as usually I’m always in the middle of the drama) But I’m tangentially related to it, so it was really stressful to deal with. I’m just now getting out of that bit, and still trying to figure out how to deal with realizations about family members that I’d rather not have.

I should, once I’m back at work, have a better time-table to post more often. I just wanted to let y’all know that I’m not abandoning anything. I’ve just been having a lot of trouble in my personal life, and new developments to deal with. So I ended up taking a mini-hiatus of sorts for this last month.

Religion and my Journey

I don’t think I’ve written anything on this blog specifically about my spiritual/religious beliefs.

Just to put this out in the open (not that I’m ever much hidden about what I believe) — I’m a hard polytheist and a witch. That means I believe in many different deities and I practice magic. For me, it’s just part and parcel of who I am.

What I wanted to talk about is the thing that I’ve wondered about since I got diagnosed.

Do I tell my counselor and shrink about my religious beliefs? Not necessarily the whole thing, just that I’m spiritual by nature, and I believe in otherworldly phenomenon and spirits. I know for a fact that it could turn out badly. I’ve read the articles from people that have stated they were treated crazy for believing in anything religious. I’m not concerned about mainstream vs. unusual spiritual beliefs. I’m more concerned with my diagnosis and what will be thought if I finally admit to a counselor (when I find one) that I’m spiritual. That I believe in things I cannot objectively prove. After all…me in a hypomanic state is slightly off-kilter. I know myself well enough to know that. So I’ve always been a bit uncertain as to how spiritual beliefs get taken in the mental health community.

Mental illness is already tricky enough to deal with. I’m not sure how to take spiritual beliefs into it. I don’t think treatment should involve my beliefs, necessarily, but I know that eventually I have to admit to a counselor what I can sense and see that isn’t normal. And I’m afraid of being called even “crazier” than I already am. So I’ve always wondered what other people do about this.

I have a friend or 2 in counseling. They have mild depression (as they’ve told me themselves). So to their counselors, religion isn’t a big deal. It doesn’t alter them in any way. But with bipolar on the table, and OCD, I’m not sure what would be said about me. So I’ll admit that in something that I’m usually completely honest about, I keep back 1 big part of myself.

I wonder how other people deal with religion and mental illness. No matter what the spirituality and religion…I do wonder how it is taken by mental health professionals.

Insurance and an Admittance

So…I have insurance again. 🙂

Which takes a huge weight off my shoulders. I’m not having to panic anymore. I can go to the doctor and dentist now without worry.

I also got my father to apologize for not calling me to inform me about my loosing my insurance. I have no clue if he meant his apology or not…I suspect not. He more than likely just said it to appease me. But, at least I got him to say the words. For the first time ever, he said “I’m sorry” for something he did to me. Even if he did not mean a word of it, I am going to take what I can get. I cannot expect much else from him, so I’ll be happy with what I got. Him admitting anything to me was a huge shock.

Granted, he told me that I was lying to him about a lot of things before he gave me the apology. So I’m not too sure how seriously I can take any of this. He tried to convince me that I was lying about the fact that he told me I had no insurance. He knows that’s a lie, and I told him so. I’m sure he’s angry with me. He was very displeased with everything that I had to say when I called him about the insurance.

Still, I’m covered again. So there’s nothing else to worry about at the moment. It was all taken care of. I won’t worry about it, since I got an apology (sincere or not, I don’t give a damn), which is what I was owed. And beyond that…I don’t give a shit. I’ll just keep on dealing with everything as it comes. From now on, I’m going to just handle my insurance and keep an eye on it myself. I obviously cannot hope to count on my dad to keep me insured and informed, so I’ll have to stay on top of things as if it were my own insurance that I was paying for.

So I got good news. Which makes me happy. The admission solely that I know my dad may not (most likely did not) mean his apology, and it doesn’t upset me to know that. I kind of expected it. I’m able to accept it and just move on. That’s a step towards…well, as close to normal as I can get in relationships with my father.

Handling the Hypomanic

So I don’t know what my insurance situation is still. Until I do…I’m going to post on other topics.

Divider GreyMy hypomanic states leave me totally drained when they end. I mean…when I come down after days/weeks of being in that state, I just crash into a full-blown major depressed state that will last for months. It’s not unusual for me to go for months without having anything resembling hypomanic states. It’s hard when I’m in the midst of depressed states, because I think that things would be better if only I had more energy, more strength to move forward.

In the midst of my months-long deep, major depressions, all I can really think is that it would be so much nicer to have just a bit more energy to function. If I could just go into one of those “up” periods that I so rarely had…it would be better. I never knew what those more energetic periods were. I knew that I was far more irritable than usual, and that I could go for hours, near onto a full day or more without sleep to get things done…all without any real strain that was noticeable in the moment. I didn’t notice the way things were piling up on me, until the energy all left me, and the piled up stress and strain hit me at once, and I’d crash at the end of this energetic period and I’d be plunged back into a depressed episode.

I would try to trigger hypomanic episodes…without really knowing what they were, or why they left me nearly as drained as they did. Because, compared to my long depressions, having energy was a gift. Even for a short period of time. It felt like it was worth it. The annoyance it left me with, the strain it put on me…it was not something I really thought too much about. They were small prices to pay for being able to get things done without constantly struggling to get out of bed.

Now that I know what I’m dealing with…I’m more even-keeled on my medications. But, I have to remind myself that the bursts of energy and boundless determination that a hypomanic episode gives me are not the gift that I thought they were. Sure, they might give me an opportunity to work for hours on end without the hassles of being distracted, and I might get a lot of work done. But…that irritation, anger and annoyance are real issues, and I do get snappy when I’m in that state. And the crash that follows is problematic. Because I sink down, need a lot of sleep to recuperate. I get tired and sad, sluggish and just generally weepy afterwards.

Hypomania is not the occasional “fun” thing that I thought it was. It’s rare enough for me still to have an up-trend that I need to remind myself that these things are not helpful. They are not useful. Being even-keeled is good for me. Being out of control either hypomanic or depressed in direction is not useful for me. I like being in control, it helps keep me sane. So for me, it is a constant reminder that those little glimmers of how exciting the hypomanic is…they’re just false for me. They aren’t going to help me in the long run. They just contribute to long-term draining of my energy levels. That constant reminder that hypomania is not fun is how I handle the occasional thought that just this once I’d like to just tip over the edge and just let myself go.

Update on the Panic

Welp….I actually have not had insurance for 1 month.

I’m seriously panicked.

But…I’m doing hard-core searching for insurance now.

My father though…I wish he could have just told me that he had canceled my insurance. That way I could have found new insurance in March. So now I’m trying frantically to get it now…a month out.

At least now I’ve learned it was a month ago. So I have a definitive date as to when I lost my insurance. That gives me something concrete to work with. But it also means I have to cancel all my doctor appointments until I get new insurance. And hope that my new company is for all my doctors (I don’t want new doctors again).

So that’s a quick update.

Once I’m not panicking so much, I’ll write a more detailed post. Right now though, I’m a bit too nervous to write anything.

Full-Blown Panic

So…I learned today that I have no health insurance (at the moment).

My father cancelled my insurance 2-ish weeks ago. And didn’t bother to tell me. Best part of this, I have to say “2-ish” because I have no clue when it actually was. Because he wouldn’t tell me about it…I have absolutely no freaking clue when I lost my insurance. I just know it was cancelled sometime in March.

That’s one of the most frightening things I can consider, honestly. I have prescriptions I have to fill for my mental health…as well as for my physical well-being. And now I learn that I cannot get those prescriptions. Then…there’s the fact that I have preexisting conditions. I know it’s too soon for the preexisting clauses for insurance companies to kick in…but I can’t stop myself from being one step from panicking about what could happen to me. It’s not logical, in the slightest to be freaking out yet, but I’m seriously nervous. Because if something happens, I have nothing to fall back on. But, I had to find out today. Which just causes problems. Because I need all of my medications in the next week or so.

I don’t handle surprises well. Especially not related to my health and mental stability. So getting this dropped on me without warning, when I go to get a prescription…it was pretty much my worst nightmare. I think I’m more furious and panicked that I wasn’t told weeks ago that I had no insurance. I could have looked for new insurance before it ended on March 31st. But instead I found out roundabout today, when I officially have nothing to cover me. That seriously scares me. Because if something happens, I’m not covered. I can’t afford to be without insurance.

And my father didn’t even bother to call me and give me a heads up. So now, I’m just hoping that I can figure something out, promptly, to get me covered. I need insurance. Being this freaked out is really not healthy for me, I know. But I’ll find a way to figure this out. It’s just enough to make me one step off a full-blown panic though, which is why I had to vent this out.

Certain Numbers

1There are certain numbers that just bother a person.

For me, it happens to be the number 1 that absolutely grates on me. I don’t like odd numbers as much as even numbers anyway…but this number is absolutely grating. For some reason, this number just serves to seriously bother me on multiple fronts. I’m not sure why…or even what this number has to do with anything. I don’t think there is anything at all that leads to my internal annoyance and problems with it. I just know that there’s certain things about this number that seriously bother me.

I know that when I’m eating, I can’t have just 1 of something. I never have been able to. So if it’s a holiday dinner…I can’t just have 1 dinner roll, or just 1 scoop of something. I have to have 2, minimum. That’s all just a way, even minor in method, that I try to avoid this stupid number. It’s not something I have really ever thought of before, but I actively avoid this number. It just grates on me that much. Then there’s the thing about this number where it just kind of crops up where I least want it. (I think that’s to be expected from something that is annoying though)

If it’s paired with another number, like 2 and 1 to make 21, I’m fine. But, by itself, the number 1 is annoying to me. There’s really only a few things where I’m fine possessing only one of them. And that’s things like my cat. I have 1 cat. But that’s different. A cat is a person. And for people numbers have different rules. But for objects, or just even seeing the number, 1 bothers me a lot.

Actually, even writing this is driving me nuts. But, I’m writing it, because maybe having to write that stupid, annoying number so often might help me a bit for coping. After all, seeing the stupid number all over the place means it is part of my daily life. I can’t be getting annoyed over a number constantly (or at least, I need to be able to deal with it). So, I’m writing this, even though it makes me cringe to keep writing the number over and over again.

Not that I really feel better about this, but I do think writing helps somehow.

Fiction and Coping

I enjoy reading fiction to de-stress.

One of my favorite series to read is one that I’ve been reading since I was 6 years old.

British Cover

British Cover

I first read Harry Potter when I was 6. My school’s librarian had a copy of it, I think from a cousin or someone in her family. Anyway, I was constantly in the library reading, so she let me borrow the British copy to read it. I fell in love. So the next year, when the American version came out, I read that one. And I’ve been reading every book as it came out since. It’s one of the most addictive series I’ve ever gotten involved in.

Others come and go as fads for me. I read/watch them…go through phases and periods of interest and periods where I’m not so interested in them. But Harry Potter was constantly with me from the age of 6 onwards. Each book release, each movie release…I was completely a part of it. It was a huge part of my life.

Fiction is a way for me to escape the daily hustle and panic of life. It gets me out of the real world, and out of daily concerns that do nothing but overwhelm me. By reading and watching fiction I can cope, because it provides me with a break. With Harry Potter, the longest-running of my fictional obsessions, I can escape into a massive world of magic, witches and wizards, Quidditch and wizarding schools. It’s a unique way to cope for me, because I prefer the later books, where undoubtedly the action and plot are darker and more fraught with issues…but I think that knowing they are fictional helps me just enjoy them without the inherit nerves that accompany my daily concerns.

Coping is difficult on a daily basis. Sometimes I just want to curl up in bed and never leave. Getting to escape into a fictional world is nice, a good way to relax and enjoy myself. I think that fiction is the best way, at least personally, for me to cope. There’s something, for me, about immersing myself into a new world and just forgetting my own concerns to fully invest myself in the story of the person/people of the story/movie.

Harry Potter has the most longevity for me. I think perhaps because I grew up with it. I grew up finding out what happened to Harry and his friends and enemies. It was a huge part of who I was…all the excitement of what would happen next. So it’s a fiction that has more meaning as a coping mechanism, because of how much it helped me out as I grew up. Within the broad genre of fiction, having an opportunity to escape and just enjoy time without worry is something that rarely happens without some distraction. If I don’t insist on my mind being distracted from the worries and concerns that swirl there, I won’t take a break from my concerns. So fiction helps present that distraction to let me take that needed break.

(I’m realizing this might be rambling. Sorry about that. I just wanted to get my thoughts down before I forgot what I was thinking.)

Swirling Thoughts

I just thought of something…going off my last post–Insomnia.

I’ve always had a really active mind. At night, before I go to bed, my mind is constantly swirling with thoughts and ideas. Everything is just in a huge whirl and dervish that allows me to come up with really good ideas. I write essays and stories very well late at night. I did most of my best writing for college at 2am the night before papers were due (not that I should admit that…now that I think about it). The things in my mind are constantly coming up in new forms and patterns. I constantly have things in my head.

But, at night, when it’s time to sleep, I cannot just shut off my mind. I can’t just go to sleep. I know that isn’t normal. My friends tell me that, my family say this too, that it’s “normal” to be able to just turn off your mind and go to bed. To just stop the flow of ideas and thoughts, to shut down and get the sleep that you need. I can’t just do that though. There are so many things flying about in my head and they just don’t shut off. Shutting off my mind is a talent I never learned how to do.

There’s a pattern even to how my brain goes. When I’m more hypomanic the thoughts go even faster than usual, and when I’m in a more depressed state, they are “slower”. But slow is relative. Even when my thoughts and ideas are slow, they’re still constant and fast-coming. I don’t know what it’s like to have a quiet mind. I’ve never had a time in my life where my brain has been calm and allowed me to just relax without constant worries, doubts, ideas and thoughts constantly crossing my mind. It’s just a matter, for me, of exactly how fast the these things cross my mind and whip through.

I had never really thought about it, until today. I’m exhausted again. Another night of too-few sleep because I was jolted awake at 4.30am by thoughts and ideas that wouldn’t wait a few more hours to push me out of bed. So I got about 5.5 hours of sleep. But I remembered now, hours after I woke up, why I woke up. That’s not normal for me, usually I never know why I woke up, or what woke me up (just like I never remember my dreams). But today I remembered the ideas that woke me up. They’re stupid ideas for a story that I’m writing for fun, something nonsense that I could have dealt with a few hours later in the morning.

I’ve begun thinking that a huge part of my insomnia might be attached to how my brain just won’t shut down. When I take a sleeping aid, which forces my brain to shut down, I sleep quite well. However, unaided…I might do okay on sleeping for only short periods of time before my brain kicks back into overdrive. I know I need to talk to my shrink again about this, but I’m nervous that it means changing my medications, when I’m not having any ill side-effects to these ones, and I don’t want to be put on even more medications. But, perhaps my brain being on constant overdrive might help explain my insomnia.

It’s just a thought that came to me this morning.