Daily Archives: July 5, 2014

The Warning Signs

warning_pageThis week has been a bit rough, I have to admit. While I am still feeling mainly optimistic and cheerful, I’ve hit a few walls this week where I had to break down and cry from stress and frustration. I know that this is probably a normal healthy new parent thing, but. BUT. I know the spectre of postpartum depression and psychosis, and I am not going to let it shaft me if I can help it. And the best way to avoid that is to be completely honest with myself about feeling frazzled and worn and upset.

Still, that doesn’t make me any more able to handle the drain from getting that sort of upset; while an incident this week was well resolved (a communication mishap between my husband and my crap-at-listening self), it left me feeling really run down the rest of the day.

And, because lulzirony, it was the morning of my first postpartum psych appointment! I think I’m finally set up with my new main psychiatrist, which is yay. My primary fellow retired to write and do conferences and stuff back in December, and while I’ve been seeing a fairly nice lady, she seemed a bit alarmed dealing with me. Not so the new lady, Dr. K! She caught a big thing that makes some of the doctors nervous — do I always speak that fast? I chuckled, and pointed out that the boss doctor loves to use me for students, because American and Italians (there’s a high Italian population locally) speak a lot faster than the average Brit. I know the first person who diagnosed me as bipolar before all my paperwork vanished thought I was manic because of how quickly I spoke, ha ha. So that Dr. K thought to ask that question pleased me. She also made sure I took note of her name (I’m TERRIBLE at remembering doctors’ names), and that if I felt I needed to up my dose(s), to call her asap to get things adjusted.

I also told her that I was going to restart my Zoloft. She was a bit hemming and hawing because I haven’t had any particular depressive episodes yet, but she also concurred that it was prudent to not let postpartum depression or the risk of psychosis get to me first. My husband felt it was especially prudent and said so. I take him to all my appointments to give that near, but outside point of view on my behavior. He feels very strongly that while the Seroquel went a long step, the Zoloft shored me up in a very useful-functional way, and that me going back on sooner rather than later was ideal. We’ll see. Hopefully, we’ll see continued cheer and functionality rather than some of the nastiest, soul-sucking depression a person can ever see (seriously, it’s extra bad).

I also understand that yes, it’s completely normal to be super-frazzled with a new baby. I’m not diving after pills because new parenting is ‘too hard’. I figure that I have tools at hand that can lower the difficulty level and keep me on an evener keel, and I would be foolish to deny myself ‘just ’cause’. Every day, we be doin’ Baby Science™®, and are learning to better understand Littlerbit, and that’s coming along wonderfully. :D


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Socially embalmed

I can’t think of a more apt way to describe 4 solid days of being out in the dish surrounded by so much stimuli. Yesterday’s two cookouts, no matter how much Mango-rita infused fun was had…Embalmed me of whatever motivation I had left to further play social butterfly.

Today I am listless, grumpy, and back in “what is the point of any of this shit” territory.

Socializing is hell for me. No matter how much I try to adapt to the social situation, the bottom line is..I am always on the outside looking in. I’ve been told this is my own doing but I am not convinced of that. I’m different and people may be polite but they are always uneasy with those who aren’t mirror images of themselves. I get it, because I am horribly uncomfortable around those I consider “elitist-stick-in-the-ass” types. Still, I try to upgrade my low rent mentality and make the socialization thing work. It doesn’t see to be reciprocal, though.

Some people are cool, they’re there to have  a good time and they’ll talk to you even if you have purple skin and a unicorn horn.

Others sit there with that fake ass smile while their expression indicates talking to you is about as pleasant as having dog poop stuck to the bottom of your shoe.

Truth be told, I can’t be arsed with any of it. I don’t want to be bothered with it. Because I am ok with who I am and I really don’t need validation from people who are looking down on me. I wish, truly wish, this were all in my head. An inferiority complex run amok. Time after time I am proven right, though.

The affect this has all had on my mood is not optimal. But on the plus side, I haven’t had any drastic crashes, either, so maybe the magical med combo is doing its thing.

Paxil doesn’t do shit for anxiety for me, I don’t give a fuck what the propaganda says. So the bipolar and depression are manageable and now the anxiety disorder is metastasizing. Lovely.

I need a coffin.

That’s where embalmed people belong.

Just leave the lock open. I may want to come out and torture myself more with socialization one day.

Mental masochist, I am.

What A Night!

Well.  This has been a shit of a night.  Those fuckers at Boulder Community never got my bloodwork to the pharmacy.  THIRD REQUEST!!!  My solution has been a six-pack of beer, which I’ve drunk as quickly as possible, as well as a super-delicious box of Good & Plenty.  You know, when they’re fresh & soft?  Ohhh it’s so good.  That’s been my dinner.  And, watching the Sex & The City movie.  TWICE!!!  Excellent evening.  How has your night been?

Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar Disorder, Psychology Shmyshmology Tagged: Bipolar, Boulder Community Hospital Lab SUCKS, Good & Plenty, Mental Illness, My Life Is Complete, Psychology, Reader, Sex and the City

Take one: Risperdal Consta

Well, my pdoc pretty much dumped me. He moved to another city and can’t take patients from mine anymore, and sent me back to my GP.


My GP is more of a person whisperer than my pdoc. Seriously. 

I’ve also lost a lot of weight. I’m hovering around the 95lb mark. Not good. So my gdoc and pharmacist and I worked together to find a new medication combo. So here it is:

Risperdal CONSTA: 25mg IM every 2 weeks, to replace Piportil depot and Topamax 400mg. Currently tapering down Topamax. At 200mg. Getting my appetite back.


It’s a weird milky white substance. It’s not thick or painful though.

Cipralex 20mg.

Cipralex logo

Clonazepam 1.5mg.


Ritalin 40mg.


Artane 5mg PRN.


So that’s my new combo.

So far so good.

I started the Risperdal CONSTA today. It’s got quite a complex put-together-syringe system. Dr B wasn’t in to give it to me, but another doc at his practice was, Dr Z. His eyes nearly bugged out when he opened the instructions, but he had a sense of humour about it and laughed, and said I was putting him to work. “One of these complicated things, isn’t it?”


Easy enough, eh?

He got the Risperdal into the syringe (which is a strange, milky solution, but not as thick as the Piportil, and needs a smaller needle) and gave me the shot in my “bum” as he calls it, which is pretty much painless, a needle prick and a slight sting from the actual Risperdal itself, and then an ache for a couple minutes from the solution, then nothing. No swelling, no redness, nothing.


Then he had to clean up. He offered me the instructions as a “souvenir” and I laughed and said he should keep them as one for him, and write that he conquered Risperdal Consta on it.


I wasn’t sedated immediately like from the Piportil. I was sedated later in the day, but I’ve been sleeping like shit this week, so it was probably a combination of overdoing it and slight sedation from the injection. I napped most of the afternoon after going out with my mom, woke up feeling alright, made myself some supper, and now I’m knitting, watching some TV and chilling out. Tomorrow I’m going riding.

No side effects so far. My mind isn’t working in overdrive. Risperdal Consta takes about 3 weeks to fully kick in, but I am going through a pretty major med change, so I’ll let you know what happens. I met with my worker this morning. She’s trying to get me in with a decent tdoc, covered by my insurance! I have a dentists appt on Monday, ughhh.

Horse show next week.


I hope I can adjust my sleeping patterns so I sleep at night and am up during the day. I kerfuffled that up pretty badly. Whoops. This week has been odd.

My mood? Great. Not manic, not depressed. Just right. A bit up.

My weights been a concern. And the breakthrough mania on 400mg of Topamax. Ugh. Dopamax. Maybe I’ll get my word-finding skills back, so I don’t stop halfway through a sentence trying to think of the word “door” or “key” or something anymore.

Less meds is good. Less painful shots (on studies, patients rated Risperdal Consta 11/100 for pain. I give it 1/100 for pain) are good. Piportil gets 5/100, if that. Good doctors are good. My gp, Dr B, is still busting his ass trying to find me a new pdoc. He’s got my meds under control, so I may not even need one.

I saw an obgyn about my painful periods (when I have them, I haven’t had a period since February, due to weight loss, I lost almost 60lbs in 7 months) and had a.. thorough pelvic exam and all sorts of tests.. well, I have endometriosis. He said its sort of fortunate I don’t have periods right now. So I may be getting a partial hysterectomy. I already have my tubes tied. He respected that I don’t want hormones. He was very thorough, respectful, and explained things thoroughly. He gave me his time of day, unlike the last obgyn that wrote a script for Depo that “stops your period and has no side effects”. I walked out.


Go fuck yourself telling me to “Relax.”

Funny: Once i was so tense I broke two plastic speculums. Should I put that in a personals ad?

I had an MRI on my shoulder, rotator cuff. It was at 6:45am, I had to be there at 6:10am. Believe it or not, my first MRI and I fell asleep. I wasn’t nervous. It was kinda comfy in there. I’m small, 5’3 and 95lbs, how the fuck do they get anyone bigger than me in that tube? I had lots of blankets and pretended I was being shot into space and dozed off. I like small spaces. I feel safe. It was loud, I zoned it out, and I was tired, and then it was over. I’ll show you the pics when I get the disk.


What mine probably looks like. MRI’s are neat.

Here’s a pic of me jumping my pony for the first time, bareback. That’s trust. She’s not wild and crazy. She’s a sweetheart. I heart her.