Daily Archives: August 12, 2016

Hope helps depression

I am somewhat amazed that people still believe depression is something we can just “get over.”  Depression is a real, treatable illness that often requires medical attention.

Outside of traditional medicine I have discovered when I could find even a glimmer of hope I could survive for just one more day.  For someone who does not live with bipolar depression or depression it may be hard to understand I am not being dramatic when I talk like this.

As I was thinking about the title for this blog it took me back to a time several years ago when I was experiencing  months of relentless depression and daily battles with suicidal thoughts. I was already very down when my dog of 18 years died.  The grief on top of my long battle with depression made me numb with emotions.

Just when I started to have a breakthrough my other dog died and it set me back into intense emotional pain.  Sometimes when I look back at where I have traveled from it is easy to see why my struggles were so long and challenging.

I have a memory of one day in particular when I was crying in my bed.  My eyes were swollen with tears, my head ached from crying so long and the suicidal thoughts repeated over and over.  I squeezed my eyes closed and opened just a crack.  I saw light shining through the blinds.  It was not a lot but it was a sign I was looking for.  My sliver of light was the hope that things were going to get better and one day I was going to recover.

I have battled depression for years.  I know that finding hope in a seemingly hopeless state of mind is very difficult.  But I also know that surviving depression boils down to toiling one day at a time.

Each and everyday I find myself depressed I search for something that makes me feel hopeful.  I picture the smiles on loved ones faces.  I find hope and inspiration in the little things in life like my cat rolling over on my feet.  

And my solid rock is my faith.  When there is no rainbow I know I am watched over even in the midst of the darkest storm.  In this I find gives me hope and a will to survive even the toughest times.

Hope long enough until you can believe that things will get better.

Getting Better

Bob has managed to stay at work all day today, so we are counting that as progress ( or stubbornness–with him it’s sometimes hard to tell).  I have been sleepy today but I haven’t had any caffeine so I imagine that’s why.  ALl the kids had a good week at school so far as far as I c an tell.

My anxiety symptoms seem to have calmed down–I haven’t had Xanax today and have felt calmer than usual. I am impatient to start school myself, but I have about two weeks before that gets going again.  But I am looking foward to it.

I’m still having existential problems with figuring out what I”m supposed to be doing with my writing right now.  I want to do new stuff, but I don’t know what.  I want to revise   on some of what I have done already and feel very intimidated about doing that.  So I have this betwixt-and-between feeling that is very uncomfortable.  I like having a sense of mission and that is currently missing from my work.



There Is No Easy Fix For Depression

Today I find myself in a dark place. I know what this place is. The aftermath.

Every counselor I ever had said I did fine, even through crises, only to come to them after the fact, falling apart. Because while I manage the crises, it takes such a toll there has to be a period of splat for me to recover.

Thing is…often that recovery period is just a prelude to yet another downward spiral into a depressive bout.

YES, even if two weeks ago I was on the upswing and thought my anti depressant was working so I got it increased but so much shit has gone wrong…I can feel myself sinking downward again.

The shrink and counselors of course would say “you hit a bump in the road, you’ll bounce back after things calm down.”

Damn, I wish that were fact.

Unfortunately, it’s more “wing and a prayer”. I pray this isn’t the start of seasonal depression, or another bipolar 2 depressive bout. I pray I can bounce back.

Thing is…depression just isn’t elastic. And there are no easy fixes.

The donor used to carry on about, “I bought you this, and I did that, and I did this, and still, you’re never happy!”

The ONLY thing he didn’t do that I asked for that would have helped was stop making my depression about him and given me some space to ride it out.

Money does not fix this. Buying things does not fix it. Acts of kindness can help restore faith but the inner mental demon keeps rampaging. It’s not lack of gratitude or lack of effort.

This is depression. This is my price to pay for being able to power through all the bad breaks that would have others seeking hospitalization.

I’m flailing. Trying to find a reason for being. Wondering what the entire point to living is. We live to die, basically. And while some have a fun ride along the way…a depressive does not.

Will I feel differently six hours from now? Maybe. That old ass clown shrink did say I had bipolar 2 with rapid cyclothymic shifts.

Then along came the new school idgets and their forcefeeding of “borderline”. Um…My cat dies. It depresses me. That seems logical, not “reacting emotionally to the situation in an irrational manner.”

I wish I could put this all more eloquently. Alas…this is what I’ve got. My words, my thoughts, my feelings. Discombobulated and imperfect and messy.

I cling to hope that once my kid is back in school and we get back to that routine, maybe my anxiety will calm, maybe my mind will have some sort of solid ground to stand on.

But I hold my breath, carry a grappling hook, and look out for a ledge to latch onto in case this is a prelude to the seasonal depression.

I wish buying me a pony and taking me out for a hot fudge  sundae cured depression.

My parents tried that when I was 5.

I should have kept the pony and gotten rid of the parents.

I wish that were the depressive state talking.


This Week’s “Caption This” Winner

It was another difficult week choosing a winner of this week’s Caption This Contest . Here is the picture that was posted on Wednesday:   The Winner The winner of this week’s Crotchety’s Golden Unicorn Award is… Vlad For Hair color = $3 Kool-Aid dye job Daisy Dukes = $0 Tie w/ “Girls Rock” = $25.99 at Hot Topic Falling face…

The post This Week’s “Caption This” Winner appeared first on Insights From A Bipolar Bear.



I got an appointment at the Cleveland Clinic MS unit!  Now I just have to get there, driving very slowly, with many stopovers, from my current location at the southernmost tip of Virginia.

The appointment coordinator actually offered me an appointment for Monday, but, uh…

Even one year ago I might have jumped into the saddle and been there tomorrow!  But now it will have to be in short hops with many rest area stops to limp around and stretch my poor hands, which have been cramping up like nobody’s business and just giving me general hell.

Last night I read about neurodegenerative diseases, cried a lot, did a bunch of research and decided that I’d better at least get a more definitive diagnosis than the one offered by my neurosurgeon, e.g., “This weakness is not from your spine.  You have some kind of neuromuscular disease.  MS, probably.  My PA will get you a referral.”  After six months, I finally got an appointment offer.  In another three months.  In Phoenix.  With a neurologist who specializes in epilepsy. Nah.

All I want is a diagnosis, and a prognosis.  I want to make sure it’s not some other process like ALS, which is also on the table because of some abnormalities seen on my last MRI but not followed up on by the surgeon: not his department.

Will someone please tell me what happened to doctors, that they quit being doctors and started being fancy technicians?

What about the time(s) over the past 10 years that I’ve complained of total exhaustion and exercise intolerance and heat intolerance to my primary doc, and been sent to cardiologists who only found mild mitral valve prolapse, and the entire issue was scuttled: The End, no further questions, Your Honor?

How about the time I complained of exhausting fatigue and was offered stimulants???  Great.  No thanks.

Or the most recent debacle where I fell down on the fucking treadmill after screaming that my legs were locking up on me (they do that if I use them much), so the cardiology techs dragged me off and threw me on the table so they could get their “post exercise” echo, later condemned as unreadable but billed to Medicare nonetheless?  Exhaustion not of cardiac origin.  And yet, you would think the cardiologist, being an M.D. and all, might have some other ideas regarding the etiology of extreme fatigue, muscle weakness and wasting, spasticity, and pain…wouldn’t you?

Granted, he did exhibit a modicum of holistic thought when he suggested my fatigue might be due to the naughty guts.  Bingo!  Yes, the guts do cause me fatigue, and I do buy that theory.  But the guts do not give me muscle wasting, spasms, weakness, etc etc etc.  They are just there to help make life miserable and to ensure that I don’t get proper nutrition.

I can’t even drink “Ensure,” because it is so full of lactose that even huge doses of lactase do not detoxify it for my enzyme-less guts.  Fuck a bunch of guts, I want to live on sweet tea and clean, cool, dry air.

I want my diagnosis, and then I want to go back to Colorado where the air is clear and cool and the nights are cold.  And when it comes winter, I’ll go back to the high desert.  And when things get worse, I’ll know what to do.


30 Days of Sandy Sue Altered: 18


Karen's Queen

Blame Testosterone

Disney Princess

Being Right


Yes, I am bitching about the format again because this blinding white page with the peacock blue topper is making me feel snowblind and also giving me flashbacks to Mimi’s eye shadow from Drew Carey Show. FOR THE LOVE OF PEGACORN CAN SOMEONE FIND ME THE CHARCOAL/WHITE TEMPLATE? (And yes, Tessa, the link did take me to the charcoal admin page but clicking new post just brings me right back to this blight of a website design.)

So…A lot of shit has happened in the last week. Lots of shitty things as well as some kind acts of generosity that I will never be able to express enough gratitude for.

Tonight, I am battling depression, exhaustion, and a complete “stuck in mud” mental space.  Maybe it’s all the hours of mayo covering hair, followed by rinsing, then combing, then flat ironing, then combing, then combing, then all the laundry and vacuuming (leave it to me to keep alive the one that doesn’t have a way to detach or use a hose on the furniture.) Nothing horrible happened today.  But I feel as if there is zero hope out there and I can’t figure it out.

Maybe I should review the past week’s suckage and have you guys tell me if maybe I am entitled to be exhausted and down. I mean, the death of the computers was te start. The Asus lost wifi and started making unhealthy noise. The Dell was never updated to SP 2 and 3 so it won’t connect. My busted screen Toshiba I had as a back up…Nope, it overheated and died. Why? Because I trusted a $12 Wal-Mart cooling fan under it and well…fuck a bag. From there..

1.) Last Thursday we had to make a trip to Wal-Mart. HAD TO. I was filled with dread from the word go. The longer it took me to find things and the more I had to listen to my flip flopped kid tromp along…it turned into panic. Panic became anger when it took a half hour to find where the garlic mashed taters were and of course…NO ONE around to help. That outing took a lot out of me.

2.) Friday…I spent the day home, waiting for UPS to bring my kid’s bday gift. Toward two p.m. I was getting irate and stepped outside…only to find the white UPS “missed delivery” note was stuck to the white trailer about six feet up. No delivery til next business day. I went batshit. I called UPS, they said come to the office to get it. We went…and they told us no, the driver’s out for 20 minutes, come back…We came back 45 mins later…driver was at the gas station, another 20 minutes or so. At that point I wanted to throat punch UPS, the Amazon jackass seller who demanded a signature without telling but, oh, they’re not gonna refund my $15 expedited shipping even if I did end up wasting half my time fetching it myself. GRRRR.

3.)  Sunday…our kitten Pudding died. I didn’t want to ruin Spook’s birthday so I kept my grief in. I went to cook the chicken for her dinner…Only to find out three hours later, I got a bad chicken. I called my mom to ask if maybe we could do hamsteak or pizza instead…She started screaming at me about roommate can’t eat this, so and so doesn’t like that. She basically demanded I go buy a new chicken and continue with that plan. She had a fucking tantrum and screamed at me. And people wonder why I hate family shindigs.

4.) I got through Spook’s birthday but then I was accused of being anti social by dad and his idget crew. I wanted to scream MY KITTY DIED IN SPITE OF ME DOING EVERYTHING I COULD, EXCUSE ME FOR BEING DOWN!

5.) LICE. Found by my mother. After I suffered 4 hours at the shop with R’s Trump rhetoric being shoved down my throat. He even called me a moron and said I need to get my head out of my ass.

So…what ya think? Would none of this stick to you? Cos if not…Send me whatever Teflon coating you’re using. I need it.

Article: Read the Transcript of TIME’s Cover Story Interview With Donald Trump


Read the Transcript of TIME’s Cover Story Interview With Donald Trump

….and tell me whether you think his brain is in working order.  I’m not talking about his politics.  I’m talking about his neurologic status.  Reading this, I was struck by his round-about speech pattern, his omissions of words, his illogical statements (illogical in the sense of actual linearity and purposeful-ness).  A list of other red flags scrolled through my brain as I read the transcript.

From my point of view as a physician, Mr. Trump is in need of a cognitive neurology evaluation. 

So….what would we do if Mr. Trump (or Ms. Clinton) turned out to have a dementia?

On another note, how would we feel about a president with a well-controlled mental illness?  (Not fair putting these back to back, but oh well😆)

Please chime in on this one.  I’m interested in your opinions!  Link is below↘↙


Zumba! 😄😺😄

I love, love, love Zumba! It’s dance, it’s exercise, it’s an antidepressant and energizer. I also love my Zumba teacher, Ivonne, she’s from Colombia and her hips do not lie!💃🏽😄 I’m 56, and I’m going to keep on doing Zumba till I’m 106! Did I say I love it? Haha. ​Endorphin high, the best high there is! 😄



Ignoring The Blog Should Be Easier

I had practically forgotten to run by my computer and write this very blog post. It’s nothing stellar, just that what I didn’t do with my days and whathavits . Occasionally I like to make up my own word I don’t know why.

Today has been particularly uneventful actually, though we might get storms and that would throw some much needed excitement to my day.

I watched the shows I’m DVRing to watch by myself and just kind of got high and chilled. The pot is definitely a mistake, one I won’t make again but this time who knows..