Daily Archives: July 16, 2017


Does FEAR stand for Fuck Everything And Run, or False Evidence Appearing Real?  Right now I want to Fuck Everything And Run.  I am in fear because of this damn job search and the state of my finances.  I am afraid that I am burning out my family because of my constant NEED.  I am afraid that I won’t be able to work a full-time job.  I am just a ball of FEAR.  I got quite suicidal a couple of hours ago, but imagining my family getting the news was enough to bring me back from the edge and set my ass over to the computer to apply for some jobs.  Then I became fearful again.  Jesus!  What is going to become of me??  I know I was in this horrible place before I took the CEH test, and then I passed it.  Sometimes it’s darkest right before dawn.  I know.  Well, it’s dark right now.  I hate that my mood can plummet to the depths of despair and I want to kill myself.  I wish I had more faith in life.  It’s just this damn fear taking over.  I don’t know what to tell myself.

If this were someone else’s blog I’m sure I’d comment and ask if they contacted their therapist or their doctor.  And the answer to that is No.  Because I don’t want to go into the hospital.  I think that would be a giant step backwards and would just stress me out more.  I think I need to ride this out and work through it and keep applying for jobs.  Hope that doesn’t sound like bullshit but that’s what I truly believe.

Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar and Anxiety, Bipolar and Stress, Bipolar and Work, Bipolar Coping, Bipolar Disorder, Mental Illness, Psychology, Psychology Shmyshmology Tagged: Bipolar Disorder, Blogging, Depression, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Psychology, Reader, Suicide

The Struggle to Make Noise into Music

Roughly two months ago, I was talking about “still waters” and not rocking the boat.  I always have these fantasies that those feelings of stability will have some sticking power, but I have been downright down and depressed and agitated lately, and more lately than that, physically ill and the most exhausted I have ever been.  All through this period, I stopped caring about things.

At first it was a conscious decision, like, “eff that.”  Then it became quieter, until I wasn’t reaching out to anyone but I was doing my best to keep up pretenses and did a lot of cancelling appointments, making excuses for why I couldn’t/wouldn’t be there/had disappeared.

I am not right on top of pulling myself out of this sinkhole, but I am more aware of it, at least.  I have started smoking again (yeah, I know, I know, I know) and am going through the whole beating up of myself over that failure.  I have barely been to the gym in the last month, and have even given up on my calorie tracker, MyFitnessPal, most days.  I am trying to resurrect all of that slowly, but to lay it all out there, it’s not working for me.

I have let issues get so big, piles so high, and issues so neglected that I am extremely overwhelmed.  Overwhelmed to the point of panic attacks and almost nightly nightmares, which is not a good place to be.  I haven’t felt like reaching out to anyone, somewhat because the response I am afraid I will get it how PROUD people are of ALL MY HARD WORK.  When it comes out here that there has been no hard work, just continued survival and nothing else, I don’t want to have those words ringing in my ears.

On a related note, I get so sick of myself saying, things are great, things are mediocre, things are terrible, and then up and down and back all over again, that it is a lot of the reason why I don’t blog often.  If I am this sick to death of me, I don’t figure anyone else wants to hear this shit either.




Filed under: Life Worth Living Tagged: anxiety, Bipolar, depression, overwhelmed

Mood Stabilizers Stole My Backbone

Most of the time I credit a proper diagnosis of bipolar axis 2 and mood stabilizers with saving my life, saving me from myself. Face it, manic episodes rarely end with us feeling better about ourselves no matter how good they feel at the time. No mania= stability I never knew before.

Recently, though, I have come to realize that the very medications that saved me from the downfall of manic episodes…has rendered me spineless. I don’t spout off my true feelings anymore, at least not often, because the meds make me so stable, I invalidate my own feelings and thoughts. I don’t want to offend by saying mean things during a mood swing or depression. I don’t want to feed everyone’s notion of me as unstable and unable to be objective. I don’t do confrontation and often standing up for yourself leads to exactly that.

I don’t miss making poor choices during mania, but I sure do miss my spine. I never felt victimized and invalidated when I was speaking my mind without stopping to question and second guess myself and avoid anxiety inducing situations.

These days the worst of it is dealing with my family. Since the lice incident when they treated my kid with chemicals knowing damn well I don’t approve, I haven’t spoken much to my mom or sis. Not that this is unusual, I can go weeks without bothering to speak to them or my dad’s faction. For this latest jaunt of silence, it’s been their utter disrespect for my wishes and invalidating me as a parent with my kid. Maybe my mom called me a bad word, maybe she didn’t, it’s established that my kid lies. A lot.

It hit me earlier today why I started calling my mom by her first name, when I disconnected from her completely. It tipped that direction when she yelled at me how my sister’s friend B was more of a daughter to her than me. But the day mom screamed at me and called me a fucking bitch in front of Spook..That was when the true cut was made. In that one incident, my kid learned she could pit the family against me and stir up all kinds of trouble for me and sympathy for herself.

And no, I am not transferring, I am not giving her too much credit. Kids pick up on these things. God knows I did with my parents constantly fighting, I would side with the fun parent over the parent who was right. Til I got older then got more objective and that was when mom turned against me entirely, viewing me as an agent for my father. Because ya know, making sure she didn’t bounce checks and get our power shut off was a bad thing for him to put me in charge of. But yeah, kids pick up on tension, on people who don’t agree…And mine has gone to the max with “I’m gonna tell Grandma” at every turn. Or “Grandma and aunt B don’t do it that way, they say you’re wrong.”

So in addition to the lingering discontent of the lice debacle, I think there are too many cooks in the kitchen making my kid think she doesn’t have to mind me and she doesn’t have to respect me because god knows, no one else does. Limiting her contact with the whole lot seems the best move to make.

How to explain it to them without starting a family war, though. My family is not logical. They view books as boring. They don’t even really believe bipolar is real, they just think I am moody and using it as an excuse not to own my behavior. Some people you just can’t reason with.

And they do NOTHING for me aside from occasionally buy my kid school clothes or crap toys she breaks in an hour.So why do I fear pissing them off by asserting my right as a parent to keep my kid away from what damages our relationship? They won’t change their behavior, ever. They never have and I’m 44. So something’s got to change and while I don’t wish to keep her from them entirely…I think the once or twice weekly thing is too much. She lies, she blames everyone when she does something wrong, she screams in my face, she defies me at every turn…And letting her go see people who hold her responsible for nothing and think everything she does is so adorable..she’s not learning anything.

Worse, she’s been going to church twice a week for a year now and her behavior is regressed. The church isn’t reaching her, either. But she still preaches to me, even this morning, about how I should go to church and she even said that I’m “into” the devil. Um…I think Satanism is too much of an organized religion, I had a friend who sent me info on it cos he practiced and damn, it was almost like the time I went with R to his Episcopal church. All that formality and ritual. And I don’t believe in conscienceless hedonism anymore than I believe in a church that condemns birth control and gay people. One thing I told her when I agreed to let her do the church thing was not to preach to me and question my beliefs. Yet she does it daily.

I went off track there, mainly because I was offended by her implying I’m a Satanist just because I have a devil doll that was a gift. (Like I would pay $70 even for a Wednesday 13 doll.) I don’t mind owning my idiocy but being accused of things that simply aren’t true really pisses me off. In fact, I am still furious about a lithium blood draw from 2007 that declared me positive for amphetamines. No, I had taken cold medicine which any lab tech will tell you often causes a false positive. Still, it’s in my file because the doctor didn’t believe me. I admitted to her I’d tried cocaine as a teenager, occasionally smoked some pot every ten or so years, so there was no reason to lie about speed. Wow, talk about off track. I really need Focalin back, fuck you insurance prescription assholes.

To get back on track…My spine is AWOL and I blame the mood stabilizers. I should not have to fear standing up for myself but I do now. Maybe because the very medication description invalidates my feelings even to myself. I am mood and unstable, so I must not ever have legit feelings thus any time I speak up I must be wrong.

Logically, I know this is not the case.

Unfortunately, I am not dealing with logical people, I am dealing with my hot tempered family who eats each other alive over every flaw but won’t accept their own. Anxiety here is warranted.

I am open to any advice on dealing with difficult family members. I got nothing.

Blood Work And Lithium

I finally ripped off the bandage, so to speak, and went to get my blood drawn for a lithium level. Ironic I ended up with a literal bandage after ripping off the metaphoric one. Or is it moronic? The process itself isn’t the big deal, I don’t fear needles or blood, it doesn’t take long, not too invasive…

What gives me the anxiety and dread and headaches is everything leading up to the blood draw. I’ve barely been able to breathe this last week, making sure I take my lithium like clockwork so the levels will be even. Waiting until I had a day child free so I could get it done quickly (taking my kid anywhere is hellish, really.) I sweated the remembering to fast for 12 hours and had to take a melatonin last night to ensure I just slept and didn’t slip up and take a bite of food. I woke four times during the night. At 5 a.m. I was so wound not even Xanax got me back to sleep so I stayed up and watched some Bones. By 7 a.m., I got sleepy and actually nodded off three times between 7 and 8, making sure I woke Spook for church prep. And as usual, empty stomach, shitty sleep, waking so early…I don’t need a crystal ball to know my day is going to be shit.

Getting all the way to the hospital for the lab work was daunting. My car is fucked, if I drive over 35 the whole thing sputters and shakes like it’s gonna drop in the road. Of course, I’m playing Scrooge over every gas fume so I’m pretty resentful having to waste the has to go all the way out there. And I didn’t even have 90 cents to my name to grab a fountain soda as some sort of ‘you got it done, yay you reward’.

I’m not whining, mind you. But this is the reality of what getting a lithium blood draw is for me and it’s very, very stressful. Why would I want to do this? And fact is, I only asked to go back on lithium because the monthly menstrual dysphoria had gotten so bad and last year I did the child support court thing and couldn’t afford a meltdown. The lithium isn’t doing a damned thing to help with the menstrual dysphoria. It does cause me nausea, make me fatter, and strip me of a libido. Does this sound like a good relationship? A medication should do more good than harm.

Maybe the day won’t be bad, maybe it will. My kid is sucking so much life out of me with her mood swings and acting out, I probably don’t have much life left in me to be sucked out by anything else. Love her, but damn, this kid is work.The pathological lying phase has me so worried that I’m turning out a Manson girl…And everyone is all, all kids lie, she’s little, she’s so cute…Bullshit. She goes to church twice a week, she knows lying is wrong, and she just keeps lying to me daily. Throw the daily paranoia and terror of every head scratch meaning lice into the mix…

All the lithium shit is the last thing I need to be dealing with and honestly, I think Dr. B would have been able to see that. Even if he had gone like Nurse Dr and kept me on it for fear of my instability, he would have discussed it with me, not while typing on a computer or asking rote questions. I have my family invalidating me at every turn, to end up with a mental healthcare provider that makes me feel just as shitty…This is not healthy for me at all.

So I guess I can act on the assumption that my discontent with the nurse doctor isn’t a whim or mood swing and it’s not a petty concern. I was kind of hoping it was. I hate to be hurtful to her, she really is nice and everyone has to be the new kid and that’s gotta suck for her…Plus, it occurred to me that maybe Dr. B was fed up with my lack of progress and shunted me off his agenda. Or he just doesn’t consider my situation that serious. Funny, it’s serious to me.

But anyway…Kudos to the doctor nurse for being thorough and wanting to check my levels and functions but she’s not rocking the ‘do no harm’ thing. Sorry, not to be hurtful, fact is fact.

Shame they can’t tweak lithium for all the bad side effects. It is a pretty good medication but if it’s not even helping with the condition I need the most help with…Parting of ways seems the way to go.

Bipolar and Growing Older

I was a bipolar child. I was a bipolar college student. I was a bipolar adult. And now that I am about to be able to get the senior discount card, I am a bipolar – what? – mature adult.

First, let me say that aging sucks. Except that the alternative sucks more. The problem is, I can’t always tell whether anything that happens to me is due to my bipolar disorder or due to aging. I fear that, since my bipolar is fairly well in check at the moment, what are left of my problems may be due to something else.

My hands shake, for example. This has been true for years, though. The neurologist called it “essential tremor,” which I think means it just happens and they don’t know why. But some medications have made the tremor worse, and one of the medications I’m taking now could be increasing the shaking. And the shaking gets worse when I have anxiety. So I think we can chalk that one up to bipolar disorder, mostly.

I forget words. Sometimes, when I’m talking, I forget the word that comes next and have to pause or talk around it until it comes back to me. Sometimes my husband fills in the blank, which is helpful, but really annoying. For a writer, losing words is scary, but the memory difficulties seem to happen more when I talk than when I write.

I know I’ve had memory lapses before that can be attributed to my medication, and those memories are gone forever. I’ve written about that phenomenon: http://wp.me/p4e9Hv-6k. But these seem to be single words that escape me, and that I can usually get back within a few seconds. It doesn’t feel like anything I’ve had associated with bipolar, so I suppose this one is aging. If it’s the onset of Alzheimer’s, I’m going to be so pissed.

I isolate. This I’m pretty sure is bipolar in nature, since I’ve been doing it for years, especially when I’m depressed. I’m also reasonably sure that I am getting less isolated as my bipolar disorder has eased. I still don’t get out much, though I did go to a fabulous (and large) party last Sunday. But I am active on Facebook and Messenger, and I write these blogs, and I talk on the phone.

On the other hand, I seldom leave the house, and that I think is an effect of aging. I have mobility and balance problems because of a bad back and some nerve damage in one foot. But bipolar is involved, since weight gain from medications also affects my mobility, and an aversion to crowds and noise is likely associated with my anxiety.

Side effects of bipolar disorder and bipolar medications are to be expected. So, for that matter, are side effects of aging. Teasing out which is which may seem futile, and perhaps it is. I just want to know which I have some degree of control over and whether some, especially the cognitive symptoms, are likely to fade, stay the same, or get worse.

Filed under: Mental Health Tagged: aging, bipolar disorder, depression, drug side effects, mental health, mental illness, psychotropic drugs, social skills