Mother’s Day or whatever

My mother sent me an e-card thanking me for “Thinking of her on Mother’s Day”.

I didn’t call her on Sunday. I always call. But not this year. Not after the constant bullshit. She told me that the next time she would talk to me she would be in her casket. Nice, right? I don’t know if I hope she’s right or not. But, I was determined not to ruin my own Mother’s Day with my husband and MIL. I’m not a birth mom, but I am a Step-Mom and my husband and MIL acknowledge that I get a mention on Mother’s Day, too. But, not my mom.

So, back to the e-card. She signed it with her first and last name, NOT as mom. Which is interesting. The email said it was from her and my father (given names, not mom and dad) but she’s the only one who “signed” the actual “card”. And, by the way, if I ever sent an e-card to her she would flip the fuck out.

I haven’t spoken to my father since this all happened. And that’s the part that really hurts.

Damn

My bipolar is activating itself again. I had a low point a couple weeks ago, but I don’t think it’s gone all the way away. Or maybe it’s the bombshell that my mom has cancer and most likely won’t live through it. Yeah, it could be that.

Writing

My therapist wants me to start writing again. And, truth be told, I agree with her. I like writing. It’s just that everything has been so hard to put my finger on.

I’m still suicide adjacent (check out my last post). Recently I’ve been poking at someone on Facebook known for his gun collection and his willingness to use them. Do I want him to shoot me? Sometimes. Sure would make life easier…hah. It’s also a way of killing myself by getting someone else to do it. So I can ultimately tell myself that I won’t be doing it to myself. Loved ones will have someone else to blame. It’s a stupid idea and I know it’s a stupid idea and I would never act on it but it’s enticing.

My mother has become an issue. Over the course last November thru just about a month ago my mother has called me all manner of names, gone on record to say that I have no kindness or grace. She has told me these things in writing, often quoting what she has told OTHERS about me. Oh yeah, this is some crazy shit. My husband is furious, but in some ways it would be easier if he wasn’t. I don’t know what it will take to make him feel better. Hell, I don’t know what’s going to make me feel better. This is the first time that this has happened where I’ve really held onto it for awhile.

Lithium increase this morning to try to get the suicidal thoughts under control.

We’ll see what happens.

Great with a side of something else

I feel great. As great as I can imagine myself feeling at least. My step-daughter is here and she brought the two grandkids so it’s just a big love fest. We’re playing games, we’re going swimming, we went to the beach. It’s been great!

And I’ve been plotting my demise.

It’s ridiculous that I could feel so good, but also be figuring out how my next suicide attempt will go. Now, I’m not suicidal, don’t worry about that. But the notion of skipping klonopin doses in order to get a stockpile is rolling around in there constantly and it’s beginning to really piss me off.

I mean what the actual fuck?

So, like a good little girl, I brought it up with my therapist this morning. And she seemed slightly dismayed, but not terribly surprised. Because it’s the bipolar just doing what it was built to do. She said (and understand she’s been my therapist for 10 years…she knows everything about me) that bipolar will do this to people. Take a perfectly content person and plague them with terrifying or disturbing thoughts. Intrusive thoughts. Those thoughts that, no matter what you do or how many ways you try to redirect yourself, are still going to penetrate your present being and not leave you alone. It’s like someone poking me with their finger every 30 seconds for days and days and days on end. Thank God my sleeping pill works because it gives me a reprieve that I know a lot of people do not get. I have plans to inventory my medication once the kids go home and see what I have that I can keep in my “To Kill Myself Stash”.

This is part of the problem she thinks that I’m going to have lifelong.

Lifelong.

That’s a long time to be spending plotting the end of my life. I mean, I guess I’ll be able to get creative with it if I want. I’ll have the time.

But, joking aside, I don’t want to live the rest of my life like that. Forever either feeling miserable and wanting to die but not enough energy to make it happen. And then spend my good days plotting how the next attempt will go.

I reiterate that I am NOT currently suicidal. I’m some kind of suicidal-adjacent.

And the stubborn shitty fact is that there is nothing I can do about it. Write in your blog….I’m doing that and I hope that when I’m done, I can leave the stress of this on the page and move away. Redirect your focus….done it done it and then I did it again.

This is one of the versions of bipolar folks. And I’m just lucky enough to have it as a traveling companion.

Narcissism

Tags

narcissism

If you were attracted to this post because you want the definition of a Narcissist, you came to the wrong place. This is more about how she has affected my life.

I know she is one, probably clinically, just from what I know about the diagnosis. But, my mother has decimated my self esteem over the course of my life and it’s time I deal with that fact.

I was recommended a book called Adult Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers. I read the first few pages, just to get a sense of what was to come and it upset me so much that I had to stop. Now, I’m currently in an Intensive Outpatient Program and it was strongly suggested that I NOT read this book until my work is complete in IOP. I had a bad outbreak of suicidal ideation so I’m working on that. Gotta get my bipolar back in order first.

But I sense that this book is going to be a lot of work for ME and absolutely none for HER. Which seems wildly unfair. If she’s the sick one, she should be the one to do the work, right? Not when it comes to mental illness. It seems unfair that the person who has to do the work is the person least equipped to deal with it.

But, at first glance it would look like a lot of my problems have come from this toxic relationship with my mother. Obviously, not all of them. She didn’t give me bipolar for instance. That’s one I got all on my own. But the anxiety disorders could certainly be from our relationship. I remember going home from school on the bus when I was young, with a pit in my stomach because I didn’t know what today’s crisis was going to be.

Now she’s old and sick and doesn’t want to be part of my recovery, because it will be too stressful for her. ??? That’s messed up shit right there.

I promised my therapist I would only write about this for 20 minutes and then be done with it. It’s called practicing Containment. Just get it out, put it in a box and be done with it. So that is what I’m going to do.

I hope you all have a lovely night!

The day after the rant

I feel a lot better today. Yesterday’s rant took a lot of steam out of my anger. I still don’t know what I want to do, but I’ll get that figured out.

Right now I’m in an Intensive Outpatient Program because my meds failed, again, and I started feeling suicidal. But we’ve switched meds back to Lithium and IOP is helping shore up my coping skills again.

It’s my fourth time through this program and I gotta say, I keep learning stuff. I was waiting to learn the same things over again as I had before, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised.

I hope everyone has a great weekend!!!

#stigmabuster

Rant

Fuck the world.

How’s that for the start of a rant? I thought it was pretty good.

I’m not pissed at the world. Mostly just my mother. And don’t even get me started about how pathetic I feel having parental issues like this at 53 years old. But it is what it is.

Her health is deteriorating. But that’s no reason for her to climb up my ass and out my mouth. Over Thanksgiving. Over Christmas. Over everything.

She can’t handle me and she’s throwing up her hands. She’s done.

And now so am I.

From this point forward she will know nothing of my mental health trials and tribulations. Nor will she get to share in my successes when they occur. We will have the shallow relationship that seems to work best for her. I will sit and listen and then leave, leaving nothing more of myself behind then the scent of my perfume.

I love my mother and it’s why I don’t want to permanently cut her off but fuck. You have a kid with mental health challenges, a LOT of them, and you think that doesn’t affect some part of the relationship? Well what the fuck ever Mom.

Never again.

Y

You said you were “taking a break” from me. Because you already have so much stress in your life and you can’t deal with me, too.

But I’m your child.

Yeah I’m not a young child anymore, I’m 53, but I’m still your child. And I’m too much for you to deal with.

Now, mind you….I didn’t actually do anything except register surprise when she told me to buy a gift for her. I’ve never met her, she has me blocked on Facebook although I don’t know why, and she’s marrying my brother who has been an asshole for over 20 years. So I bought them the fucking gift. And I put thought into it and it was lovely. But no one has mentioned it. I don’t even know if they liked them or not. If they said thank you, I missed it. But, I’m the problem.

I’m always the problem.

It’s not enough that I’m always the problem for myself, now I’m also my parents’ problem, too?

Everything would be fine if it were just not for you.

Fuck you.

I’m staying.

The Med Change Blues

If you have been mentally ill for more than a week or two you’ve probably been through the dreaded “med change” before yourself. But for the uninitiated let’s just take a moment to look at it.

Generally we’ll be prescribed a medication that some marketing company is billing as the next big thing in bipolar treatment or schizophrenia treatment or anxiety treatment or some other such condition. We take it and under the best of circumstances it works great. But, eventually it’ll stop and you’ll need a new one. If you are lucky it will be years before you need to think about that, maybe even never. But, never one to be particularly lucky, I have to change mine every 2-3 years or so. In between are constant dosage adjustments upward to keep up with my bipolar. Eventually though it’s time. So a schedule gets drawn up by the psychiatrist of a weeks long dance where one medication is steadily reduced and another medication is started with the dosage increasing with the decrease of the first medication. The worst possible case scenario is when you have to come all the way (or nearly all the way) off one medication before you can start the second. But, whichever method you use, your medication levels are off for weeks, leaving you vulnerable to severe symptoms.

I’m currently on the second of 3 step-downs off Trileptal and the second of 2 steps up on Depakote. And I felt this step. Right away. I landed hard and nearly took off hubby’s head in the process. My depression is always accompanied by anxiety and the by-product of THAT is often rage. So I put dinner on the table (well, threw it) and went to bed. I cannot take a joke. I cannot deal with anything. I didn’t even eat the turkey dinner I cooked. I snuck out to the kitchen around 10pm and ate a cold piece of turkey for dinner. yum yum.

I have serious hopes for the Depakote. The Trileptal worked very well for me, very fast and with NO side effects. Yes, you read that right. None. Depakote is the same class of medication so I’m crossing my fingers that it helps just as well, just as fast. But, there are no guarantees.

I have been looking into alternative methods of treating my bipolar depression and there are some interesting things out there besides ECT (Electroconvulsive therapy). I’m going to spend some time exploring those in future posts.

Of course, first I have to get through this med change.

I figured it out

Tags

bipolar, medications, Mental Health, Mental Illness, suicide

Trigger Warning Post: Suicide Note that I am NOT suicidal as I write this

Well, this is somewhat worrisome to me,

I have figured out how to kill myself next time.

First, it’s scary that I’m even considering next time. I’ve been stable for awhile, but as I have predicted, the Trileptal seems to be losing steam. Depression is starting to creep back in. It’s not horrible yet. It’s not been long lasting so far. A couple hours. An afternoon. Nothing I can’t deal with.

The train hasn’t stopped. As long as that is the case, I’m good. It would seem, in this case, that the conductor of that train tossed this one to me, but kept on moving.

This particular method of self termination involves taking my other health conditions and using them against myself instead of trying to control them. I could just “help” them to end me. There are a couple things I could take to actually mobilize these conditions to take my life for me.

It’s interesting to me how I feel I can get these conditions to take my life for me. As if that somehow gives me distance from the actual act of causing death. What it does, is allow me to leave this life and not have the people left behind wonder why I would do such a “selfish” thing. Because my health conditions caused it. Not me. They can be mad at genetics or biology or whatever, but not me.

Because it’s important to me that people not hate me. It always has been. Other people’s opinions of me have always been important to me which is one of the reasons that an anonymous blog appeals to me. I can say things here that might make you angry, but if you met me you wouldn’t know that I had written these things. It gives me the freedom to be honest. And I have always wanted this blog to at least be honest.

And to be perfectly honest, I’m not in a great big rush to change my medications. That’s always a gigantic pain in he ass. And that assuming everything goes well. If the change doesn’t take, I risk the hospital.

I just have to get through the next 2 weeks with the Trileptal. My step-daughter and the grandkids are coming to visit for 2 weeks. It will be very enjoyable but also stressful. I will lean on my klonopin to keep things smooth for myself. After that I can switch.

I’m thinking maybe Depakote this time It’s pretty much the only one I’ve never been on.

Peace and love y’all