Daily Archives: June 18, 2014

Letting Go

Letting go can be one of the most difficult decisions you have to make in your life.  Especially when it comes to people in your life that you so desperately want to care about.  When you finally come to the realization that they don’t care for you nearly on the level that you care for them, you find yourself systematically following through with the stages of grief. 

 For me, anger is the hardest stage to get through.  When all you wanted was a thank you or a good job every now and then, it’s hard not to be angry.  For years and years I let my own feelings fall by the wayside and only worried about everyone else.  Look where I find myself now?  Estranged from all of the people that should be the first ones to be by my side when the chips are down. 

 Now that all of the name calling and the finger pointing is out of the way, I have decided that I am done.  I will no longer place myself in unhealthy situations or toxic relationships, just because I am “supposed to”. 

The people that have hurt me the most in life will continue their narrow minded view of me, my life, and my illness.  I can no longer allow that to dictate whether or not I find happiness in my life.  I have to be stronger than that, and I have to be stronger than their opinions of why I am not good enough.  If for no other reason, than to preserve what is left of my self-esteem. 


It turns out that what my real problem when dealing with people is expecting those that have no capacity for gratitude to express some. I am a sensitive person that cares far too much, and it’s going to be a very hard habit to break, to stop caring about these people. Now it’s time to let myself grieve the loss of what I thought they were. Despite their constant efforts to indicate that I deserve this much pain, because I only bring it on myself, I will never allow myself to believe that. I have a huge heart, and you did have a place in it, and still could have, had you not been such a cruel, heartless bunch of people.



Feeling SHITTY?

Feeling SHITTY?

How about now…??

Filed under: Images, photos, Uplifting

Brain Molecules Discovery May Help Battle Depression

Brain Molecules Could Help Predict Treatment Levels of a small brain molecules found only in humans and in other primates are lower in the brains of depressed individuals, according to researchers at McGill University and the Douglas Institute in Canada. This discovery may hold a key to improving treatment options for those who suffer from […]

The post Brain Molecules Discovery May Help Battle Depression appeared first on Insights From A Bipolar Bear.

Gripping fast

It’s happening all over again. I am holding on tight, trying, but I can feel it all spiraling out of control around me. The housework, the cats, the overwhelming heat that makes me lethargic and cranky, the constant money struggle, my flip flopping love me/hate me battle…

I thought for awhile there, I was making progress, holding it together.

Now I’m hanging off a cliff with only my fingertips and I don’t know what to do about it. HELK! As my kid would say.

But no one can. Maybe with the housework or giving me  a break from the Uzi, but the mental stuff…no one can save me. I can’t even save me. I can’t even attempt to save me because I am never stable for more than a day at a time. Then I am manic, then I am low, then I am in the abyss only to rise back up into the manic stratosphere. I don’t think my Lamictal is working anymore. Or it is but the Paxil is lifting my mood too much. It’s a catch 22 from hell with bipolar two. We spend way more time in chronic depression land so we need an anti depressant…But those can spark manic episodes and behaviors.

I see the shrink today. It’s one of those late afternoon appointments which I don’t like because it has me on edge the whole day, unable to breathe until I get it over with. No amount of positive thinking changes this, it’s always been this way over every looming event, positive or negative.

I feel…listless today. I’m not up or down. I’m just overwhelmed and I don’t even know where to start to fix it because my mind is just a fucking tornado of thoughts. It’s like trying to pick up smashed pieces of egg shell and put them back together to form the egg again. Jigsaw from hell.

Me. My life.

It gets so old, I just wish I’d cease to exist at times. If I can’t be fixed, then what’s the fucking point? Shoot me like an old horse, put me out of my misery.

I’m not being dramatic or seeking sympathy. I’m just exhausted being me. Cycles are always the same and it doesn’t matter what changes in behavior I make.

This is bipolar.


It’s a Baby!

It's Littlerbit, the Booper Trooper!

It’s Littlerbit, the Booper Trooper!

I live! Honest! And #2 has shown up finally. She was born here at home on the morning of the 16th, but I’ve been busy with her, and her big sister, and catching up a few people here and there on assorted and sundry life. And yes — she. It was our understanding that we were expecting another girl, but as you never know until you’re handed the baby, we preferred to not fully presume. I did feel it was a girl though, especially based on how extra-severe my chronic fatigue, nausea, and other such endometriosis-related symptoms seemed to be persisting. I figured — if it’s a girl, then that would mean more estrogen and other female hormones, and that could be making it super-crap.

I have to say, I am doing a LOT better this postpartum so far. Besides being in less pain and fatigue from a significantly shorter labour (when baby came, she came with all alacrity and speed, and like, 20 minutes of pushing), my base mood is a lot better ’cause yanno, turned the difficulty level down. I’m not breastfeeding this time because I’d much rather take my psych meds and be a sane mommy, and that also means I can take codeine for the assorted pain.

And yes, my Seroquel and I are reunited at last! I started with 50mg on the 16th, and am ramping that up by 50mg until I return to my previous dose of 400mg (200mg twice a day). I was up half that first night with my husband, because yanno, dealing with a person who doesn’t speak our language and doesn’t know how to communicate well, so we were both trying to support each other in sleeping and taking care of Littlerbit. I got to sleep the night through last night though, and oh.my.stars. I’m still way sore and exhausted (as can be expected), but I feel really freaking human and happy and stable.

And I can see how me being calm and happy is making for a calmer, happier baby. Funny how not having to use all your energy being scared of narcissist bullhonky frees up significant spoons, and the ability to  have one’s guard down and *gasp* relax and enjoy the ride! Mind, I’m certainly wary of the possibility of postpartum depression atop the bipolar, or worse, postpartum psychosis. But I think that because I am able to be more honest with myself about my mood and state gives me a much better chance of avoiding these things, and if they do crop up, dealing with them.

So anyways, hooray, and back to getting caffeine in me, hee hee. And then, if I’m feeling especially badass? FOLD ALL THE LAUNDRY. *flex*


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Happy Birth Day, Mackenzie!

Well, I didn’t sleep very well the first night of reducing my Zyprexa dose, but there was a very good reason for it—my daughter, “Mindy,” was in the hospital having her labor induced. I kept waking up thinking I was hearing my phone, but I actually didn’t get the call until about 9:30 this morning.

Here is the result of all her hard work:

Mackenzie Leann Now, this may be one of the prettiest babies I’ve ever seen. (I’m not biased at all, you know that, right?) And she’s the exact dimensions her mother was when she was born: 9 lb. 2 oz. and 20 inches long. She even looks a lot like her mother, up to and including the scads of dark hair under the beanie.

Alas, I’ll probably only get to hold her once as a baby, for her parents are moving in another week or so and they’re going to pass through here for a brief visit before driving the 2500 miles to their new home. Dad is in the Army, which of course means moving frequently, so it may be years before I see them again.

This is nothing new; Mindy has always been my tumbling tumbleweed. When she was in the service herself, she went to Iraq, and then a few years later she spent about a year in Afghanistan as a civilian contractor. She has also lived in a number of different places in the U.S., and this nomadic lifestyle seems to suit her perfectly; she’ll never be content to stay in one place and do what she calls the “housewife thing”. So this little one will be well-traveled by the time she grows up.

Welcome to your life, precious Mackenzie! Prepare to be enchanted. :-)