Daily Archives: December 12, 2015

Medication Agitation

So in an effort to shake things up and “see” what exactly is going on with which med I decided I’d take 60mg Cymbalta after lunch when I had a bit of food on my stomach. What happened was….my heart is racing, my brain is racing, and I am so anxious I am jumping at every sound. (In spite of a dose of Xanax.) Now I checked a message board and supposedly this anxiety is an initial side effect of Cymbalta. Problem is…I’ve been at 120mg for almost three months now. I have not added the 20mg Prozac today since I am already so anxious I am breaking out in hives.

I can handle the usual suspects when it comes to psych med side effects- nausea, lethargy, hypomanic brain jolts, stomach problems et al…

But heightened anxiety, after being on it this long, is unacceptable. All these months of being so depressed yet also anxious could be the medication doing it rather than making me feel better. It’s pointless to take Xanax if your anti depressant makes you jump out of your skin. I dismissed it initially as a high dose thus ya know, brief hypomanic brain jolt. Not the worst thing for someone plagued with low energy and lethargy.

Of course, I am going to go in  and talk to the doctor and I predict he will be utterly dismissive, tell me I am imagining it (kind of like his disbelief that Latuda made me suicidal and yet, it did the same to others, we must all be pathological conspiratorial liars) and not want to change a thing. I mean, I’m out of bed and functioning, right, all good here.

Except for that utter lack of joy in most everything, the paranoia, the hives from anxiety, and all around being a trainwreck.

My biggest ally is going to be having him check my old file from when I was seeing Dr M, the ONLY doctor under whose care I made any true progress in. (she left town, of course, after her two year podunk rotation was done.)  If I did well on her regime with no anti depressants, maybe I just need to suck up the lethargy and weight gain issues. So I’m gonna be depressed every fall/winter, so long as I can keep some clarity and minimal functionality…

It may be take what I can get. IF I can get him on board. Because I know he’s staunch in his “you’re not manic so there’s no need to change the Lamictal.” Agreed, I like Lamitcal and its few side effects. But as he is so fond of pointing out how I have “tried everything” maybe lowering the Lamictal and adding the Lithium while weaning off the anti depressants is what is needed. Hell, I might not even need a secondary med outside of the seasonal.

So frustrating. I am taking these meds trying to get better and I think they may be contributing to making me worse. WTF, people. If it makes my anxiety worse and anxiety is a huge crippling condition for me…it shouldn’t be a fight to get rid of that. Yet with this doctor…it’s gonna be like treating a conscious gator for a tooth problem.

Oh, and the icing on today’s cake of “too fucking weirded out and wired to move off the bed”…I talked to my father on the phone and he started in on all the places they took my kid and got her lunch and they went and got her glasses fixed (cos ya know, I did that last weekend and the weekend before but since I couldn’t keep up and didn’t do it this one time, I am a shit mom.) They bought her this and that, she played with the dog, they want her next weekend again cos of the church program rehearsal…Then from nowhere he launches into me about “what are you gonna do about the insurance on the car? Your mother’s been paying it…”

First off, I’m gonna need the two hundred twenty bucks to transfer the car to my name. Then yes, I will need insurance and since mine lapsed when the Not so Grand Am blew upit is gonna be a bitch I am sure. But that’s neither here nor there, not his business, not his problem, and he just added one more thing for me to worry about which in my current state…makes dealing with him as logical as rolling in a  poison ivy patch to cure my anxious itchiness…


Do do do tell me people, what is it like to have parents who love you unconditionally and don’t judge your every move and dredge up your every mistake and do every fucking possible thing to make your condition worse…

There are times I swear stepmonster wants a little girl to play mommy to once my dad’s gone (he’s 68, she’s only 40) that they’re hoping I do crack my lids so they can take her. Sounds crazy but considering he was carrying on with her while still married to my mother and she was only 17 at the time…I don’t trust the fuckers, at all. Glad they found redneck bliss together and all but the way they go out of their way to trigger me and make me feel bad about myself…Not feeling the love or trust vibe.

One more thing to be used against me as being an unfit mother. “LOok, she thinks her own family is plotting against her.”

No, not plotting. I don’t give them credit for having the intelligence to plot. But pushing me toward the edge with their little digs…I buy it.

Mainly because when I was still pregnant all the parentals- my mom, my dad, my stepmonster- all had a little gathering in which they discussed their opinions on how long it would be before I broke down and couldn’t take care of my child. (My sister told me all about it.)

So if I am crazy…they helped inch me there.

But also, I think I am high as a kite on this Cymbalta, as in all my nerve endings firing rapidly and randomly with anxiety so there’s a good chance I am just venting and ranting here rather than totally insane.

Cymbalta needs to go. Which is one more fresh hell cos coming off the stuff, even tapering, takes weeks, then another month or two for my brain to settle down. Been there, done that before. Sucked. It all sucks. And it sucks more to go to a forum  board and read how all these people had no withdrawal or no side effects and they’re the majority so those of us in the minority must obviously be faking it.

On one final note of railing…I got my kid’s school pictures in the mail today. The envelope clearly said in caps PHOTOS ENCLOSED, DO NOT BEND. So my mail person…bends it.

What the actual fuck.

I am starting to feel like maybe I wanna go out via the ending of Scream Queens, locked up in an asylum where I’d probably be calm and happy as a clam because I’d only ever have to deal with the sane crazies as opposed to the dish dwellers who have no diagnosis but are crazy assed idgets. DO NOT BEND.

Cripes, postal service, do you not even require your people to read?


Too Much And Such

I received this on my phone this morning when I was busy drowning in sloth and couldn’t lift my head to look.

boop and santa 15I cannot believe the grandparents allow my child to hang out with Satan. Er, Santa.

I used to take her to see him myself but then at some point my dad and stepmonster decided their armpit redneck town’s festivities are superior to this town’s and they started doing the whole bit with her. So I quit trying to compete. Besides, last time I took her, she kicked Santa. In her defense, red is a trigger color. I may work up the energy to try to catch “our” town’s santa and take her there. I don’t know. I just get sick of my dad and them swooping in and taking over because they can “afford” all the outings that I can’t. Yeah, sure, my panic issues make it a catch 22 for me all around but still…I was dying of flubola and needed help, no can do. But for the fun stuff that will make my kid worship them, oh, they’re right there.

Fuck me, right. (And that is less “my ego” and more, I feel shitty for not being able to afford to dazzle her with outings myself.)

Last night was Mangorita and Domino’s bread bite night. Cost less than buying a movie ticket and I got to watch whatever the fucked I liked. Which meant the entire forth season of Saving Hope. Now I am caught up and in the …show hole. I have some new eps I am behind on of Supernatural   but with the tv drought brought on by hellidays, I am saving Sam and Dean (and that fucking awesome car) to cheer me up during that time. Not sure what I will binge on next.

The shop was sorta chaotic yesterday when I put in my two hour appearance. He had friends hanging around, the phone was ringing, their cell phones were ringing and at one point, I started breaking out in hives and had to go outside, away from all of it. So yeah, social security and doctors, how does my condition affect my day to day normal existence? Pretty sure breaking out in nervous hives and fleeing outdoors spells it out. And I was Xanax-ed and putting off my nervous making meds til later. TOO MUCH. I can’t handle too much stimuli with grace.

And ya know, that is a hallmark of autism and the medical community accepts this. Yet with anxiety disorder, it just means you’re weak. WTF is that? Overwhelmed is overwhelmed. I cannot help if my IQ is considered “above average” therefore I can’t possibly have a legit issue with stimuli, it must all be my personality issues. There have been times I’ve almost felt like being slightly “bright” is a hindrance rather than a plus. Intelligence has little to do with mental illness on the mood/anxiety spectrum.

And I am back on the “too much” spectrum today. I slept until after 11 a.m. and I did feel twinges of guilt but I figured my body must have needed the rest, otherwise I’d have been up and anxiety tripping. It was a fight not to go back to sleep, too. I made the bed, fed the cats, got some iced tea…and looked longingly at fort blankie where my sleepy brain really wanted to still be. I didn’t give in, mainly because there is so much I need to do since my kid free time is dwindling. Housework, go under the trailer to fix the vent, clean out the car, go fetch cat litter and some groceries, oh, and I wanna try to write and…

Too much. I’ve crashed into anxiety ridden inertia.

My attempt at being functional consisted of spotting a neighbor I don’t really know and he was walking a dog and this pretty Siamese kitty was following him so I asked if it was is cat. Which turned into six more cats emerging and him telling me about how his ex had 20 of them inside so he threw her out, then put the cats outside, too. I lost interest when he told me they had a litter of kittens but the dogs ate them. NOPE. I was very content to sit on the step and let the siamese kitty and the black and white kitty love on me. People, no. Kitties…bring it on. LOOOOOVE. They are such simple creatures. They want their needs met. They will either love you, ignore you, or annoy you. There’s not worrying about betrayal. Cats aren’t there to be your best friend. YOU are their minion. I like it that way cos it’s kind of how I am.

It;s like that  Geico commercial where the guy is sinking in quick sand and tells the cat to go get help. “If you’re a cat…you ignore people…It’s what you do.”

“If you’re Morgueticia, you ignore people, it’s what you do.”

Meh, my social skills are lacking beyond please, thank you, and dude. (And btw, it’s not simply being a child of the 80’s or having arrested development that I still call everyone including my parents dude…For some reason, it was funny on That 70’s Show when Red Foreman called everyone dumbass…When I did it, it was insulting…So…all shall be known as dude even when my brain is screaming DUMBASS.)

So I have a gazillion things I should be doing (including making the effort of putting up a tree for my kid, but ughh…) My overwhelmed brain has gone deer in the headlights and can’t move. Maybe if I give myself some time and tackle things a bit at a time, without going full spaz…

I hate this state. I literally can’t even think clearly enough to choose a show or a song or determine whether I need to go pee now or if I can wait…Clusterfuck. Maybe all that time I thought the Lithium was too sedating it was actually just buffering against my own spazomatic brain. Slowing it down so things made sense.

I just hate living life in a that cobweb sleepy brain space, it’s like never truly waking up and you’re walking into walls and stumbling and…

I’d tell myself to visualize a stop sign and breathe but then my brain would freak out cos it can’t remember how many sides a stop sign has or what color the letters are or should the breaths be deep or shallow…

Neurotic is my name.

Here, one of my favorite Christmas songs. I’m fucked up but my macabre humor remains in tact. I always play this album when putting up the Christmas tree. It makes me happy.



Guilt Rears Its Head

Even with caregiver help, it’s been tough. Friday one of my mother’s occupational therapists told me she had asked nursing staff if my mother had been receiving any visitors. After being “on” since 11/14, I took time “off” to recuperate. My mother did not respond well. She refused to go to physical therapy and instead packed her bags. After a nurse called me, I raced over with my father to calm her down. Tough. I’m wracked with guilt.

Filed under: Acceptance, Family Tagged: aging parents, caregiving, guilt, Sandwich Generation, stroke, stroke rehab, stroke rehabilitation

Favorite Version (Good Intentions)

good intentions


You know what they say about good intentions, right, friend?  How they done paved dat dere road to Hell.  Well, you know, I think sometimes maybe that fits and works, but sometimes it is our good intentions that hold us together like a favorite, old, comfortable, unraveling sweater.

It is only through good intentions that the Rosa I love best is here, today.  The Rosa that I enjoy the most, who laughs and makes jokes and tries to comfort those around her holds hands and has a kind word.  The Rosa that is there for people, struggling to get out of herself.

The Rosa that decides to try a brand-new recipe on a whim with no fear, the Rosa that hobbles to the damn pool and practices weightless exercises until time stands still and the chlorine lingers in the nostrils for hours.  Who talks to strangers, smiles at small children, hugs fiercely.  Who cries herself awake and then turns to precious LarBear for comfort, knowing it will always be given.

Is passionate about more than how long it is possible to stay in bed, completely immobile.  That girl that does things and has a good time doing them and fights back when the darkness starts circling come around nightfall every evening.

She is my favorite, and she might be your favorite, too — its easy to love the one who battles and battles and fights back some more, even when it seems like all those neurochemicals zipping around upstairs are dead-set against any happiness today.  Its worth acknowledging that it isn’t easy being this version, no matter how lovable.  Because it’s a constant up-and-down, and while there is more “up” than “down,” the downs are quite low.

So there are a lot of tears and a lot of gasping sobs and big empty and vast fields of grey fog, covering the blackness of night.  But instead of giving in, which, really, is what the urge is every day — there is always, always forward movement.

More activities, more people, more places to go and see and things to do.  Build structure, build mastery, practice living in the moment.  This moment won’t come again, precious steps must be taken to pay attention, to not avoid or ignore it into oblivion.

Filed under: Collection of Thoughts Tagged: anxiety, Bipolar, blogging, building mastery, building structure, depression, good intentions, mania, mental illness, mental-health, recovery, self-love, version of self

Proteins Could be Potential Bipolar Disorder Biomarkers

This is really big! For the first time, doctors are reporting that a group of 6 proteins may be able to be used  to diagnose bipolar disorder. This mental illness, though it affects millions of people, has no diagnostic test. It would make it so much easier to treat people with bipolar disorder if they could definitively be diagnosed first. An example is me. When I became severely depressed n 1985, I was put on antidepressants without any mood stabilizers. This caused me to go into a full blown manic phase. Somewhere no one wants to be. If this diagnostic test had been available then and I would have been put on mood stabilizers right from the beginning, my bipolar 1 may never have been unmasked. Do you know what a difference that would have made in my life? A whole hell of a lot of difference. I hope they develop this test and people who are in the process of developing bipolar disorder can be correctly diagnosed with the help of these 6 protein test. I won’t benefit from the test, but I am  inordinately happy for the people who will, whose lives will be happier and healthier because of it. 
Diagnosing bipolar disorder may become easier now that researchers have discovered a group of proteins that could be used as biomarker to identify the mood disorder.Mark Frye, MD, head of psychiatric and psychology at the Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minn., and colleages examined 272 protein from 288 patient blood samples. Of the study participants, 46 were diagnosed with bipolar I depression, 49 with bipolar II depression and 52 with unipolar depression. They were compared against a control group of 141 subjects without any mood disorders.

A total of 73 proteins were found to differ among the four groups studied. However, there was a significant difference in six proteins in those with bipolar I depression compared to the control group, the researchers reported in the journal Translational Psychiatry, an indication they could be used as biomarkers.

“The potential of having a biological test to help accurately diagnose bipolar disorder would make a huge difference to medical practice,” Frye said in a statement. “It would then help clinicians to choose the most appropriate treatment for hard-to-diagnose individuals.”

The researchers noted their work is “one of the first studies to assess the feasibility of high throughput multiplexed immunoassay technology (272 proteins) trying to distinguish different types of mood disorders,” thought they added the results need to be replicated in a larger study.