Daily Archives: October 2, 2014


And now for your edification, here is a discussion about what psychiatry calls “triggers”.

For those not in the know, triggers are events, thoughts, emotions etc. that cause or contribute to the development of mood episodes. Sometimes episodes come out of nowhere, and in my experience those are harder to deal with because I don’t know where they came from. And there are times when I don’t make the connection between a trigger and a mood shift at first, but with a little digging I can usually figure it out.

Some aspects of life are obvious triggers for me: Stress. Money (or the lack thereof). Crowds. Overstimulation. Even being around negative people tends to provoke a negative response, if not a full-blown mood swing. It doesn’t happen every time I’m exposed to these things, which is good because otherwise I’d be in crisis mode all the time. Medications have tamed that to a significant degree, and living in a mellower world is a lot kinder to my stomach and better for my blood pressure.

But of course meds can’t make everything go away, and I’m still left with a number of stressors that are apt to trigger mood episodes. Some of them are even pleasant: the big holidays, the changes of seasons, the anticipation of good times. Yet I am almost certain to react strangely to anything out of the ordinary; though I may not show it on the outside, a lot of wrangling goes on inside.

It’s really hard to describe this phenomenon, especially to someone who doesn’t have bipolar and can’t possibly understand why a perfectly normal part of life—like job stress—sends me into orbit. My husband, Will, is probably the only person in my life who comes close to “getting it”, and that’s only because of repeated exposure. (Well, there’s also Dr. Awesomesauce, who knows me entirely too well and understands it in an educated sense, but obviously he doesn’t live with me so he doesn’t experience it.)

What’s confusing is that often it’s difficult to identify which came first: the mood shift or the trigger. For example, I might fall into a deep depression because my life is a hot mess, but the depression itself triggers emotions that make it harder to get out of the mess. It’s the old chicken-or-the-egg debate, and it’s not easy to analyze it when one is in the middle of the episode. I usually figure it out only after the spell has passed.

The same goes for the other side of the bipolar equation. The onset of summer, which is naturally a happy time for me, almost always brings on mania, but then again the mania makes the season so much brighter and sunnier than it really is, which in turn feeds the mania. See what I mean?

Anyway, that’s a little bit about triggers…..well, MY triggers. Everybody with this disease has different things that make them tick, and it’s actually rather fascinating to talk with other bipolars to learn what induces their mood episodes. One person I know literally loses her mind when her grown daughter come for a visit; another goes into a tailspin after attending a party, even one she looked forward to. As you can see, it’s all unique to the individual.

Sometime we’ll talk about the mood episodes that have no obvious stimulus. I hate those, because I need to have an answer for everything and there just aren’t any. But that’s a topic for another post; today it was all I could do to write this one. I’ve been having lots of trouble concentrating…..so what else is new?


Bi-polar and Memory Loss……

So, I’m not what one could call “normal”…. I haven’t been ‘normal’ for a very long time, close to half my life anyway. When I put it like that, I have spent nearly as much time being bipolar, as I … Continue reading

My Furry Mood Stabilizer

Originally posted on Crazy Good Parent:
October 1-7 is National Walk Your Dog Week, founded by pet lifestyle expert and animal behaviorist, Colleen Paige. As I write this post, I’m unsure which puppy pictured above will join our home tonight.  We…

If I can Learn To Do It! You Can Learn To Do It!

http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-china-29455207 GOOOO HONG KONG! Fight for your voice! If they can learn to speak up for their voice, Mental Illness advocates and sufferers should too. Spread the message today of hope. Get out of the house, and help someone. Blog your feelings, don’t let them inside. Someone else might stumble across then. Get Mentally involved …

Psychiatrist Appointment

My diagnosis shifted from bdii to bipolar I with mixed episodes today. Citalopram switched to zoloft, so I can take higher doses. Lithium will go up to 1.2

So goddamn shit being alone for this.

Thursday NOS

I live in the kind of place where you can only really get one cruddy local radio station. Like all such FM stations, it specialises in banality and 80s music. After days and days of rain, the sun is gently burning, the clouds are white and the sky is blue.

Depression is doing the lead balloon raincloud thing over me regardless; I have my own private weather system. Apparently it’s the weepy kind (does post menstrual syndrome exist?), I sobbed my heart out at a tv programme last night. This morning the damn tears have been ebbing and flowing just below the high water mark. I went into my shrink’s rooms to pick up forms and managed to get an appointment later today. I said wait, I need to make sure I can pay; when I got back, I was told to just pay whatever cash I can for the appointment. I landed up kinda grasping a receptionist’s hand and sort of almost not crying.

Sadness in sunshine always reminds me of Tim Burton talking about the difficulties of growing up Goth in sunny California. I believe that he’s bipolar too.

I’ve got that muffled and stoned feeling that depression sometimes causes and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to ask or tell the shrink, but I’ll figure it out. The past three nights’ lack of sleep is a major player here I guess.

I wish there was a system where you could input moods etc daily and then your meds doses would be generated, so they’d be tuned a bit like a musical instrument. All the current research appears to be focused on helping the patient work out when an episode is on the way – but what then? How fast, how often could one get help/feedback? I suspect that what we need is more/more accessible psychiatrists and psychopharmacologists, the latter being a wondrous, mythical beast, of which I have only heard legends.

This morning a woman I know was replaying a tune she’s been singing a lot lately. What is the point, there has to be a point, I feel so rootless … and for her it’s circumstantial and will be alleviated fairly soon. Anyway, I said well I think we choose our own point/s and she looked at me and said you don’t exactly have options do you? And then she said (astutely), well of course there are millions of options, but I don’t know how attractive you find any of them. *aggressive growl of a sigh* SIGH!

They Really Should Make Psychological Viagra

My blood is coming to a roiling boil. I asked ONE measly favor of R and he managed to find a way to flake out, unapologetically. After all the crap he has sent my way over me not dropping everything to tend his precious shop needs, his family needs, his beer needs…And he couldn’t manage to do one simple thing for me.

Now, this is actually less infuriating and more hurtful than anything.
But the world, and people around me, have let me know time and again that the ONLY acceptable emotion that won’t get you labeled a hypersensitive woman is anger. So over the years I have honed my ability to turn tear inducing hurt feelings into blind hatred and anger. I have honed that skill to a razor’s edge. For better or worse, it’s a coping mechanism I felt forced to acquire.

One. Simple. Request.

As always, the world revolves around R and the rest of us are his minions,bought off with a pack of smokes or fast food meal here and there. Because he’s such a nice guy. Who has less self awareness than my 5 year old and about as much concept of empathy and fair play.
I’ll let it go eventually. But the anger must boil and simmer and the toxins purged. I am just so tired of being let down by all those who claim to care.
Was it anything urgent I asked of him?
But last year when I was drowning in the seasonal depression abyss and failed to answer two of his calls, I was on the receiving end of some nasty texts telling me he was going to start ignoring me, blah blah blah.
It stung. It turned into rage. I kept that message just to remind myself what he is all about.
Tonight has proven it beyond the shadow of a doubt. HIM HIM HIM HIM HIM HIM.
I just wanted to feel like he was sharing the toys on the playground. I don’t know why I ever thought he would. Leopards can’t change their spots but some can rearrange them into more attractive patterns. Like me, former psycho things-throwing hose beast of bipolar.
But the leopard has to give a fuck that their behavior hurts others for any rearrangement to take place.
And I am surrounded by a bunch of clueless self absorbed assholes that they they should be accepted as they are, yet I am supposed to assimilate to what they want me to be. I make the effort. They stay exactly the same.
I am so over people and the social interaction thing. Give me a cat and a computer over people any fucking day.
Life may be so much disappointment but when it’s the people who supposedly care always letting you down, making it clear that you are the bottom of their priority list in every way…
Bitter pill stuck in the back of the throat.

Prior to this shit…

It was an okay day til I spent too much time outside my safe space. THEN the anxiety kicked in and the bucket of crazy was tied around my neck and nerve endings like a noose with a ship anchor attached.

I feel so IMPOTENT in dealing with people.It’s like they hold all the cards. I don’t value my self worth based solely on their actions but it’s a damn uphill battle when every single person invalidates you at every turn. Hell,my own kid ran right past me at pick up today because she saw Bex was with. Now I don’t want to be petty, but it is a thorn in the paw to bust my ass, and mind, trying to do right by the kid and even she treats me as something insignificant. Becca is the ONLY one who truly treats me like a human being,my only support system and I feel like a selfish bastard saying it because it’s not fair for her to be placed in that role.
Fact is, I got nothing else.
My stepmom was supposed to come by today to haul away some stuff for me. We spoke just last night and she said she’d be coming by. Waited for hours,finally called her…And,”Oh, I didn’t bring the truck to town and I had a bad day…”
“I forgot” is the lamest excuse and the most popular. We all forget things. Just seems this amnesia issue is prevalent with those around when it comes to me personally.
It’s courtesy and respect and these people don’t give me that much yet wonder why I get pissy toward them.
It’s like they’re too stupid to grasp the concept of hurting someone’s feelings with their insensitivity.

I. want. psychological.Viagra.
To boost my morale and self esteem, to bubblewrap my feelings from being hurt while keeping my motivation “up” in spite of the feelings of mental impotence.

Thing is, by tomorrow,it will probably just be one more thing on my shit list (and oh yes, I keep one and I horde blackmail material in the event any of them get the idea of throwing me under a bus). I didn’t used to be that way. But since tears and hurt feelings are so shameful, angry bitch it has become. Angry, vindictive bitch.
It just won’t be as…frothy and sizzling as it is now.
I forgive.
I don’t fucking forget.
My Teflon coating wore off long ago and everything sticks to me something fierce now.
Yeah, I have issues.
Much like the ass trashers around me, I am just gonna say accept me the way I am and stop working on bettering myself.
Fuck it.

Except I lie. Because I want to be better than I am,not for them, but for me and for my daughter.
They are so narcissistic I am sure they think it’s all so they think more highly of me. It sounds very drama llama but I am really am surrounded by people that self absorbed and vapid.
Like when I got a poem published and my dad went around taking credit like it was his accomplishment and I was little more than a ghostwriter. All because the poem was inspired by his job. All about HIM.

This rant is totally unnecessary and pointless and likely makes me come off as an unhinged nutjob.
Purging is necessity. Gotta vent, get it out, can’t let it poison me by locking it up inside.
I am justified to have feelings.
Just because others don’t agree with how I feel does not invalidate the way I feel.

I was going to go to sleep.
Now I’m too pissed and it’s manifesting as anxiety which makes sleep unlikely any time soon. All the little therapy tricks for clearing the mind and slowing the racing thoughts are useful when you’re rapid cycling, PMSing and genuinely hurt to the point of white hot anger.

Yeah, I am really not doing well with this wanting to participate in life thing. Never really have,but with the seasonal, anxiety,and depression creeping up…I am feeling pretty apathetic as to whether I live or die. I live life. I am functioning. But I enjoy very little. Not truly enjoy it, feel it, thrive on it. Life is just one more mundane task like doing dishes or showering.

And I don’t think a complete absence of interest in life is personality, I think it’s nearing the witching hour where i swallow my pride, put on the bubble wrap dress to protect my bruised feelings, and call the shrink’s office.

Now that I have a med I would like to try, I’m betting my crap ass insurance won’t pay for it.

Not negativity, cold hard experience.

It’s to the point where I am sitting here listening to music and I find it more nerve racking and irritating than enjoyable. And I am a music FIEND.

I ever find a magic lamp with a genie inside, my three wishes will be:
no more bipolar.
no more anxiety.
stability to hold a job and make a decent living so I never have to align myself with thoughtless assholes just to stay afloat.

Fuck the lottery.
Actually,for me…
That would be better than winning the lottery.

Hey,finding a magic lamp isn’t anymore far fetched than me ever having money to buy lottery tickets.

Introversion Begins

It’s that time when my moods make me start withdrawing. I am moving away from the things that I enjoy.

I don’t want to draw or paint. I don’t want to write all that much. I am cooking but that is out of concern for saving money more then any joy.

I must keep my promise to write my blog.

I am gonna try and be positive, even though I feel like curling up and hiding. I hate the mood swings. Up and down. I would like to be happy longer… Just a little maybe a full month.

Man I don’t even want to shop.. Bah