Daily Archives: June 13, 2013

When God Speaks

I realize this might be a controversial subject, but I’m writing it because I have to.  If you are offended, please know I mean no offense. Lately I’ve been thinking about people who use the phrase, “God spoke to me” or “God said (to me) . . .”  No matter who they worship as their […]

To tell or not to tell…

I see the shrink in less than an hour.

I went against the grain, because I actually don’t feel too bad mentally today, and rather than dressing down or going with a bad mood as usual, I put on a nice top and a skirt with tights, full make up, earrings. My former counselors used to tell me it was such a disservice that my moods cycled so rapidly because I’d generally be manic when I saw the doctor and he’d see me well groomed and out of bed and assume I was fine. Ever since then, I have been terrified to show up at the shrink’s office looking like I feel too good. Because if you are having a good day, they assume all your days are good and it is a disservice.

I honestly think the Lamictal increase has helped. I read back prior to shark week hormones, and then this past week, and it hasn’t been bad, not at all. Maybe the anxiety and paranoia have amped up, but the mood swings…It’s been okay. No tears.

Now had the shrink saw me last week in the middle of shark week, she might have wanted to commit me, because I was just randomly bursting into tears and “I should die” thoughts.

It seems a lifetime away now.

I know it will happen again in a couple of more weeks, and I live in fear of it. But right now, do I need to voice concerns for a stronger mood stabilizer if I can milk a few months out of the current and just try to survive the hormonal thing? I am a big fan of “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” I don’t see what any medication is going to be able to do to help the hormonal thing.

Yesterday, R was talking about how his stepdaughter was always “on the moody side” but now that she is 9 months pregnant, “I wouldn’t want to be her husband, she’s crazy.”

That kind of insensitivity is why I hate men. Men, per se, aren’t horrible beings. But some of their views lack empathy and as I told Roger, “Don’t have the parts, don’t have the ability, don’t get an opinion.” They think it’s so funny and hormones are just some sort of excuse women use to torture them. It would be nice if men would consider that it’s torture for us too. There is no worse feeling that “going off” on someone without cause, then realizing later you did it. You feel so shitty, and you know, apologizing isn’t going to make it not have happened. Live with that for a week every month for 40 years. THEN you get an opinion.

It’s the same way I view the whole abortion debate. Most of those who are against abortion are MEN who don’t have the parts, the ability, and yet they think their opinion should trump a woman’s rights over her own body. It’s akin to a bunch of women being politicians with a couple of men involved and making decisions concerning whether men should be allowed treatment for impotence. I mean, inability to have sex never killed anyone right, is it that important an issue? (No, that is not how I feel, I have empathy for men who are impotent for whatever reason. Just an example.) Don’t have the parts, don’t have the ability, don’t get an opinion.

Oh, my stomach is starting to churn with anxiety as it does before every appointment. Actually it’s been churning a lot lately and I am stressed sometimes so I don’t pay it much mind. Besides, it’s been going on for over 20 years and I’ve had all the embarrassing invasive tests only to be told, “You’re internalizing stress, you need to relax.” Uh…Hmm. Is it any wonder I don’t have much use for doctors in general? Few of them have ever actually helped me.

Guess it’s time to get ready to leave.

So will I be truthful with the doctor to avoid the hell of starting a new med (or delaying it)? Or will I try to explain the situation? Maybe I will consult the magic 8 ball.


Busy Bees

Allo allo, lovely blogosphere!

This is me making my apologies for a lack of real entry today, ’cause I’m fairly busy. It’s nothing exciting, merely getting on with work and life and whatnot. Plus, I figure me overtly ‘slacking’ will make one or two of you smile to see that I totally can do it. *grins*

Hope everyone is doing well today.


The post Busy Bees appeared first on The Scarlet B.

The Great Experiment

In the past, before being on the correct meds, my Mondays were usually pure hell. We’re very active in our church so Sunday’s were always busy with committees and just sipping coffee and chatting with friends. Conversations were excruciating. When in a manic state people were talking excruciatingly slow, and I couldn’t concentrate on what was being said. When I was in a depressive state and was capable of getting myself out the door, going to church was just as painful. I didn’t want to talk with anyone; I didn’t want to be around anyone; I just wanted to be home curled up under the covers.

During this time I allowed myself to have Crash Mondays. This was the one day of the week that I was allowed to keep the shades closed, not have to step outside, and not have to deal with anything at all. I can’t say I looked forward to Crash Mondays. I just really needed them. The rest of the week I had a list of things that I must do each day. The requirements were simple: brush teeth, shower, wear clean clothes and to get outside, even if it was just to check the mailbox. These days Crash Mondays aren’t necessary very often. The past two days, however, have been an exception.

Jenks Lake, Angeles National Forest

Jenks Lake, Angeles National Forest

This past week we went spent a long weekend at our church camp located up in the mountains in the Angeles National Forest. The weather was warm, sunny and the views were breathtaking. There’s a lot of activities and socialization that occurs during these trips. It’s a weekend that I’ve always looked forward to even when I was in the midst of despair. Getting out of Los Angeles for a few days is good for the soul. Coming back home was not good for the soul. I was wiped out both Monday and Tuesday. Monday I got up and stayed awake most of the day, but was very lethargic. Tuesday was worse. I was in bed almost the entire day and the times I did get out of bed I went straight to the kitchen and gorged myself on something. That something could be anything. An apple, or an orange, or potato chips or hot dogs. Simply, the few moments I was out of bed I was eating like crazy and then immediately crawled back into bed.

I was surprised. I expected some kind of crash down, but nothing like this. It’s probably been a couple of years since it’s been this bad and so it caught me off guard. Suddenly, this morning, I realized what was going on. For my disorder I take five different pills every night and one pill every morning. Because I tend to forget my morning pill from time to time I asked my pdoc if I could start taking the morning pill at night with the others. He gave it some thought and told me that it was best to take it in the morning because he believed it is what was helping to keep me up and carry me through the day. He then told me, however, if I’d like to try it out then go ahead and experiment and see what happens. I said I would and I did.

Oh, I’m sure I’ll have some adjustments to my meds in the future. Some may just completely stop working which is not at all uncommon. I have learned (I hope) to stay more in tune with my body. When it’s telling me something then I need to listen, especially if I’m doing a little experimentation. I’m just grateful today that I found the likely cause as to what happened. I’d be devastated if it meant that my Crash Mondays were back again for good.

So, it took me this long to realize what was going on. My Crash Monday/Tuesday came back because I was not taking the proper meds, or at least not the right meds at the right time. I changed my plan and took my med this morning and this day has been much better. I’m not sure I can attribute my better life today from taking just one pill this morning. Hell, maybe it was a placebo effect. All I know is that my today was a helluva lot better than my yesterday and I’m going to approach experimentation more cautiously in the future. I know me well enough that I will attempt something now and again, but will do so with more trepidation. It’s good to have me back again.

depression comix #130

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Yup-per: I didn't get bulimia from my mother, like this poor girl did. Instead, I got restrictive anorexia, from being told I was "chubby" and being called "fat ass" until I just wanted to disappear. So food became my enemy. I ate only enough to keep from passing out from hypoglycemia. I dropped from 120 lbs. to 78 within a year. Then I was able to get in and out of my size 3 Junior Petite jeans without opening the top button. Neat, huh?