Daily Archives: August 3, 2015

What the Actual Hell

So like, I wrote my blog post yesterday, and I was all ‘Yeah cool, survived a panic attack, no big deal.’ And then I had another one. What. the fuck. I have never had two before in the same day. Hell, I’m not sure I’ve had two before in the same year. They’re seriously not a common thing for me in spite of how bad my baseline anxiety is. Did I mention I wasn’t anxious in the slightest yesterday when either of them started off? Yeah…

And of course, being a second one, I managed to convince myself that I was having a heart attack and going to die. Well, not quite that far afield, but I was really starting to be concerned. My husband talked me into going and taking a bath in case it was heat exhaustion or something from being out so long on Saturday. It did the trick of distracting me while that one wore off, so good on him (and also good on bat for trying to help in that regard but accidentally hitting a rather severe trigger. Whups).

I’m fine today, outside of obsessively rechecking my surgery’s website to see if my new prescriptions have come in. They haven’t. It’s more annoying for knowing that it’ll be two days after they get the prescription before it’s ready… that’s what I get for not taking my pre-pay prescription card to the hospital last week. My ass doesn’t usually get handed to me for missing a prescription change over a couple of days, but damn. I guess it’s being self-kicked hard this time. But as I said — the doctor felt that I was way up the hypomania scale, and I guess my body-brain are agreeing with that (even if the conscious me isn’t really sure what the heck is going on).

Blargh. But hey, it could be worse… it could always be worse. *nodnods*

For now, gonna yawn and knit. Hope y’all are well.



A professional acquaintance of mine is an editorial cartoonist.  He is illustrating a book of essays and was talking on Facebook yesterday about having completed 22 drawings in one day, starting early SUnday morning.  I messaged him on Facebook and congratulated him on his dedication.  He said “It was a deadline,” being very modest.

I hate to think what I would do if asked to do a similar task, deadline or no.  I have a love-hate relationship with deadlines.  THey make me catastrophically anxious (which is why I had to quit daily freelancing) but I often can’t get anything done without a deadline staring me in the face, self-imposed or no.

If I really loved writing the way I say I do, I would be writing more every day.  ANd I’m not.  Because I’m afraid of failure.  I’m afraid of the blank page.  I forget that I have a delete key for when it doesn’t turn out the way I want it to.  I look around me at the people who are succeeding and wonder if it’s just bad luck on my part, but I know I’m just lying to myself when I say that.  I don’t have the dedication I need right now.

I’m praying that will change.  I’m hoping this new MFA program will remind me again that writing can be fun and enjoyable, whether it is successful or not.  Please join me in prayer that I can get over my fears in time to start this program in three weeks.  THank you.

Men, Women, Children, Pets-The Overmedication Of America

This post has been inspired by this episode I found.  You need not watch it to get the gist- some of these kids are on 13 fucking meds, Seroquel, Lexapro, Adderall, Risperdal, et al. Most of them are simply sufferers of abuse at the hands of adults they should have been able to trust. Rather than give them counseling and one on one time to work through these issues, they are labeled problem kids and handed bottle after bottle of pills. Most of which I don’t even think are fit for adults, let alone little kids. Starting to label and medicate children at age 4 for bipolar sickens me to the nth degree. These kids talk about the weight gain, feeling like a zombie, like a brick is on their head…This is a bad enough world to live in when your issues are legitimate. It’s downright disgusting when there’s absolutely no cause for them to be prescribed. This is where I take an anti medication view. If you need them, fine. But for all everyone who needs them, there are ten being handed a bottle of Prozac and being labeled as something they’re simply not.

Unfortunately, this is a huge problem in the United States.

Frankly, I blame “Prozac Nation”. Now of my plethora of failed meds, Prozac was one of the few that benefited me. But when it was launched in the 80’s, every person having a bad week who went to the doctor was handed a script. This is where the stigma has stemmed from, the way doctors pass them out without any real cause. I don’t disagree with this. But I do take issue with the blanket mentality that because doctors pass out scripts for the stuff left and right, that negates the need by those who are bipolar, depressed, etc. It’s a fine line, indeed, and education is the key, not ignorance, not stigma and judgment.

In spite of my issues with my own child..There is no way in hell I want her labeled, at six, bipolar or ADHD, or any other diagnosis. I don’t want her shoveling pills unless there comes a time when it is for her own benefit. Being defiant and rebellious are not mental disorders. Being hyper is not a disorder, especially when it doesn’t present any behavioral or learning issues for her in school. I have a high spirited headstrong child and it will be over my dead rotting corpse before I let them slap her with a diagnosis and med regime until I deem there’s a real problem. As a bipolar parent, I’m especially keen on the signs, early signs, no less, and I am aware of her propensity for mental illness due to it hanging from every branch of her family tree. It won’t escape my notice as I am vigilant. I don’t want her on  meds,  I hope she dodges this bullet with every fiber of my being…If she doesn’t..Well, we cross the bridge when we come to it.

I never wanted meds. I tried therapy alone. For some of us, it’s a necessary evil.

For others, it’s just a bandage slapped on a wound to the soul. If we medicate ’em so they can’t feel their pain, all is well. That’s the mentality that has to change. Especially in abused children. Hearing about a seven year old hanging himself…Meds can’t undo abuse and neglect. Love can’t even heal those wounds.

Just like Prozac and Seroquel aren’t gonna cure a bad month for someone whose issue is situational.

On a side note, in my opinion, because this show highlights the use of antipsychotics…It’s the cross labeling of antipsychotics as bipolar and depressive treatment options that has turned it into a common medication. This is shit I wouldn’t give my pegacorn. (If it helps you, yay, but coma queen is not my goal in life.) Cross labeling can be good, since my mood stabilizer is technically an anti seizure drug. But the antipsychotics for bipolar and such have gotten to a point of commonality, and the general public thinks they are for psychotic behavior, that it’s giving mentally ill people more stigma to deal with.

Educate, educate, educate. And put down the damned script pad until you’ve spent enough time with anyone- man, woman, or child- before you deem a pill to be the cure all.


Bipolar Disorder is incurable, but…


word. Remission yo, not recovery. It’s still a good thing.

Originally posted on Advocate for Invisible Illness!:

I have Bipolar Disorder but, I am currently in remission and stable. This means almost nothing because Bipolar Disorder is incurable. It will at some time come back. Right now I am managing it with medications.

I have Bipolar Disorder but, I have to worry every time I feel emotions that are part of Bipolar Disorder, but that other people feel as well. I may be coming out of remission. Bipolar Disorder is incurable.

I have Bipolar Disorder but, constantly in the back of my mind is the daily fear that today will be the day my remission ends. Bipolar Disorder is incurable. We never know when our remission will end.

I have Bipolar Disorder but, I am managing it with medications. Medications can fail at anytime. Bipolar Disorder is incurable.

I have Bipolar Disorder but, I am not contagious. Bipolar Disorder is incurable, but you cannot catch it from…

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linkerish allsorts

First off, thanks very much to the six people (plus me) who sent self portraits of different types, they’re now up on the self portrait project. There are (fingers crossed) more on the way. Want the password? Shoot me a mail via my contact form so that you can send me your mugshot self portrait. You can do whatever you want, however you want and as many as you want. Enough self esteem to believe in your own creativity is not required; let rip and I’ll do the believing for you. You do not have to use your real live actual face (I didn’t).

Alright, it’s linktime.

Here is a serious song about bipolar, by somebody called Hollie Sue. I’ve never found Leonard Cohen depressing, but this one made me lose the will to live. *dramatic hand to pale and wan forehead*

Here is the catchiest, rhymingest, bubblegummiest, stupid bunch of shitty stereotyped stigma you’ve ever heard. I shit thee not, children, I shit thee not. Miss Bipolar? Well improve ya blogdamned aim ffs.

And now here is a diss by Charles Hamilton, who is indeed bipolar, but what a load of bollocks the headline is: Charles Hamilton’s bipolar heroin-induced Jcole diss. There isn’t even any copy under the damn title. His own explanation is after the first track and he does sound rather disconnected. Judge for yourself.



I don’t think bipolar is anything to be proud of. Bipolar disorder is an illness. You didn’t ask for it; you can’t control it; you just got it. It’s like saying “brown eyes pride.” You’re proud of your genetics? If you say so. Not to mention the fact that there is no such this as “other illness” pride. When was the last time you hear of “cancer pride?” Bipolar Pride – do we need it?

What is mental health? What is mental disorder?
Side effects of bipolar disorder medication index
The young adult’s video guide to facing bipolar
Mental health issues are disabilities too. It’s time to treat them that way.

Sonnen doesn’t mind talking about his bipolar disorder because he wants to educate people. “It lets people know even a monk can have mental health problems.” Brother Sylvester Sonnen

Depression awareness on the red carpet (Jared Padalecki, Supernatural)

Modern nuclear disasters: biggest risk is mental, not physical illness.
Diagnosis of psychiatric disorders not as important as outcomes.
Schizophrenia and Bipolar Disorder: Differences and Overlaps
Breakthrough Depression Study Shows 42% Remission Rate With EnLyte
Genes Linked to Abnormal Brain Waves in Schizophrenia, Psychotic Bipolar Disorder

In an experiment that had people with bipolar disorder playing roulette, brain scans revealed that the ‘reward centers’ of their brains were activated more than those of people without the psychiatric disorder formerly known as manic depression. Bipolar disorder: brain scans show excitable pleasure response

50 million suffer from mental disorders in India.
Mice without specific brain chemical develop characteristics similar to bipolar disorder, shows study.

Charleston: Do You Have Bipolar Disorder? (MUSC). We offer compensation for your time and effort. You may be eligible to participate in confidential research studies being conducted at MUSC if you have BIPOLAR DISORDER and SMOKE CIGARETTES. Please call Helena at 843-792-0572 for more information.

Sasstafarian, did you write that ad? If only I was in Charleston, I’d have replied thus: Ohai Helena, YES I want teh monehs for being BIPOLAR and also SMOKING LIKE A CHIMNEY.

This dude wants to raise half a million of your American dollars to help his brother deal with bipolar and can’t be arsed to write more than a few lines about it. Send it this way instead, kids. It’ll turn into five million of my South African Rands and I will deal with bipolar by lying in a hammock in Tahiti. BRB going to piss myself laughing.
Mental illness not a ‘ticking time bomb’
Simple Pleasures (does what it says on the tin)
Well fuck you, Marc Fitch: What Happens When Mentally Ill People Have Children?
When depression reinforces the myth that you’re unlovable.
Kitt showed up in my Google alerts *waves*
Bipolar ii is not diet bipolar

Bipolar disorder is exhausting. It’s frustrating. It’s scary as hell. It’s embarrassing. It’s overwhelming.
My story isn’t over: What a new tattoo says about bipolar disorder. (semicolon project, very cool piece)


(tw suicide)

Banned Execution Drug Being Used to Euthanize Disabled Patients in Belgium


I hate seeing these kinds of stories on my feed, but the dead should be honoured – and we are the people who truly understand.

Cynthia Nyflot: Woman found dead in Red River had written book about her mental illness.

This time last year we were in the midst of a waking nightmare. Our middle child was vanishing into the world of mental illnesses. Through the Looking Glass

Each time my son was allowed to go untreated for long periods of time, he sustained further brain damage. This illness left him trapped in a body ravaged by irreversible damage from untreated bipolar disorder. Sadly, he was allowed to reach the crisis stage one time too many. His third attempt at suicide was successful. Son’s suicide preventable with right treatment, help.

Kathryn Laudadio might be doing cartwheels in her heels if she knew the fate of the designer shoes she left behind after losing a battle with anorexia and bipolar disorder nearly two years ago, her mother said. Family donates shoes to fight eating disorders.

What To Expect When You’re Expecting… DEATH. Five Things You Should Know.


Thinking back on the far-too-many deaths I’ve witnessed, this makes a lot of sense to me. Better than Kübler-Ross.

Originally posted on talesfromthefamilycrypt:

You’re probably heard of the “What To Expect” series of books that are pretty much the bibles on expecting a baby. The first in the series is a book considered to be one of the most influential books of the last 25 years and deservedly so as pregnancy was formerly a much not-talked-about topic. It was time to bring pregnancy out of the closet. (It was also time to do away with the godawful maternity clothes that came in one size — TENT — and in one style –BIG BOW BABY. Thankfully, that happened too in the last 25 years.) The books offered information on a topic very few people had ever been willing to discuss.

Well, I’m about to launch a similar and yet opposite end of the spectrum series. I’m considering calling it, as above, “What To Expect When You’re Expecting…DEATH.” (Can they sue me for that?)

My point…

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What depression feels like…


My anxiety section would be way bigger but um…yeah, watching paint dry. That’s pretty accurate. Glad someone put this out there to set the mundanes straight.

Originally posted on All that I am, all that I ever was...:


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Art Therapy & Creative Healing Projects 15

What depression feels like…

Cyclones, Rages, Phones and Phases



Originally posted on nombredelapluma:

Cyclones, Rages, Phones and Phases, 08/03/2015, Deon Mumple

In my manic phases I’m a real renaissance man,
I can do more, I just can’t dance the can-can,
When I’m depressed I could give less than a fuck.
Don’t ask me for shit, or you’ll be shit out of luck.
But on any given day, it’s my normal way, I cannot lie,
Don’t ring my phone, leave me alone, fuck. off. and die.
In my manic phases I can’t let you slide, driving poorly,
Even with class and classical radio both going for me,
When I’m depressed I’m late.  Fuck you, Out of my way,
Move. your. ass. I’ve got other things to deal with today.
But on any given day, I’d rather stay home and not go anywhere.
If I were home I’d be free to choose whether or not to care.

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