Sickness and the Election

Tags

bipolar blog, blog, blogger, donald trump, Election, Mental Illness, President

I have been really under the weather for weeks.  I picked up a sinus infection after Hurricane Matthew rolled through and it kept recurring.  I’m most of the way through my second round of antibiotics and yesterday was the first day in nearly a month that I didn’t feel like hell.

Well, I actually did feel like hell.  In my mind a storm was brewing.  Anxiety climbed the walls of my mind lifting me to panic attack readiness.  I finally found some solace in a 10 mg Valium and Morgue’s chat room.  (and if you want to check that out, let me know.  It’s completely worth it)

Wednesday I had pretty much spent the day in front of CNN watching in disbelief what our country had done the day before.  But, yesterday I had taken to social media and the internet at large with a vengeance.  I wanted to know why.  Why had We The People elected this hatemonger to the highest office in our country?

I joined a lot of discussions.

I queried on my own Facebook wall why Christians had shown up in droves to elect this man.  I received the following response from one of my relatives after she admonished me for not watching Jim Baker (yes, THAT Jim Baker) to get the information I should have gotten before I made a misinformed decision

Here’s the scoop: 1) Trump is “pro-life”, which is why he hopes to abolish “Roe vs Wade”. Hillary, on the other hand, boldly proclaimed (during their debate) that she is totally in favor of a full-term baby being murdered before it’s head leaves the birth canal!!…..2) Trump wants Jersalem to become the capital of Israel & wants to move our American Embassy there. Hillary, on the other hand, wants to divide Israel in such a way as would give some of Israel’s land to the Palestinians, WHICH WOULD DEFINITELY BE A NO-NO W/ GOD, WHICH WOULD RESULT IN HIS WRATH BEING POURED-OUT UPON US!!!!!!!!!….That is why evangelical christians had to vote for Trump irregardless as to his flaws…..God can do extraordinary things w/ ordinary people!!!!!

Seriously, I’m related to the person who gave this answer.

Excuse me while I go take another Valium

…

…

Hopefully that kicks in quick

I found a lot of posts, and I mean a LOT, from people explaining why I should just “get over it already”.  I spent some time answering those people.  I explained that, while I respected their right to be satisfied, I should also be allowed some time to process and mourn.

I spent a little bit of time watching CNN as I wanted to see our President-Elect meet with President Obama and see the press conference afterwards.  But, it wasn’t easy.  My heart broke for President Obama.  I couldn’t imagine what he must have been feeling as he worked to pave the way for our President-Elect, knowing that he was working with a racist.

Later in the afternoon I went back to Facebook.  I couldn’t help it.  I knew that I shouldn’t, because of the level of animosity I was encountering.  But, on the other hand, I needed information.  You can’t fight what you don’t understand.  If you don’t see what’s coming, how can you prepare for it?

I ended up being brought to my limit by this

Now, I agree with what that says.  But, I was still feeling like it was telling me to get over it.  And I was still feeling like I had the right to be heard.   So, as a comment to the person who posted this, I laid out the reasons that I am upset.  And terrified.  Let’s please not forget terrified.

I have several  mental illnesses and that marginalizes me in the new President’s eyes.

I need disability and that marginalizes me in the new President’s eyes.

My husband works for a company that buys parts from overseas.  Renegotiation of trade deals, or scraping them altogether, could easily raise the costs of those parts which would raise the cost of the finished product.  The finished product of the company my husband works for is heavily financed through the Export Import Bank.  The dissolution of that bank desired by our new President will mean that those products will not be purchased driving that company out of business and with it my husband out of a job.  This last bit holds true for many many large businesses in our country and could potentially mean the loss of tens of thousands of jobs.

The Affordable Care Act helps over 11 million people in this country obtain coverage.  Our new President wants to repeal it.  He has a plan to change it, and it’s a decent plan, but what about a bridge for coverage while prices come down (if they do)?  That’s 11 million people out of health insurance.

This is not counting what black people, Muslim people, Mexican people and gay people must be feeling.  If I’m as scared as I am, how must they feel?

After posting all of this, I started to panic.  I had never really meant to “out” myself as mentally ill and disabled on Facebook.  Not yet.  Not like that.  And this is when the panic attack started to rise.  I did what I felt I had to do to explain WHY this election was so upsetting.  But, in the process, I had outed myself in a way I wasn’t really prepared for.  I had put my mental illnesses right out there for people to look at and I was afraid of what the backlash would be.  But, in deference to my budding panic attack, I turned off the TV, logged off Facebook and logged into the chat room.

This morning I went back.  I needed to see what the fallout had been.  Had I been being mocked overnight?  Had I actually managed to make my point understood?

The post had been deleted.

Gone.  I had outed myself for no reason.  I received no response, not even a thank you for trying.  I had laid bare my soul and my terror.  I had done it very very nicely.  And it was deleted.

This morning I had therapy and I was in tears in the waiting room.  How am I supposed to deal with this new world we find ourselves in?  If social media and the news are stressing me out, the obvious answer is to avoid them.  But, if I avoid them, how will I keep myself aware of the developments that will be happening constantly?  How can I fight for myself and, at the same time, keep myself safe?

And, the answer is…moderation.  I have to cut back on the news.  I definitely have to cut back on Facebook.  But, I need to stay aware.  I need to see harmful legislation coming so I can work to cut it down.  We all do.  It’s not fair that those among us who are least likely to cope with this kind of crap have to be more aware of it then anyone else.  But, it is what it is.

Two last things:

Somebody got his Twitter account back

Donald J. TrumpVerified account‏@realDonaldTrump

Just had a very open and successful presidential election. Now professional protesters, incited by the media, are protesting. Very unfair!

 

Poor baby.

 

And lastly, a very cool, very easy new campaign based on one that occurred in England following Brexit:

By fastening a safety pin to their clothing, people are declaring themselves allies to groups who have been maligned by Trump, to show that they stand in solidarity with anyone who might be afraid.

And as we’ve been dismayed to find out in the days following Trump’s election, it appears that there is reason to fear. People across the country have shared stories on social media of violence and hate speech directed at them in the wake of Trump’s victory. Racist graffiti was spotted around the country and minorities reported experiencing harassment the day after Trump was elected.

These frightening instances illustrate why the #safetypin idea ― which was inspired by a movement following Brexit in the United Kingdom ― is so timely. It’s a tiny gesture, but it speaks volumes, assuring people they are not alone.

You can read the full story here

My safety pin for solidarity

It’s a really easy way to let other people know that you support them.  I hope this little movement catches some fire and becomes HUGE.

I hope that all of you are ok and coping.  Together, we can all do this.  I’m considering starting a weekly series just to let everyone know about the things happening that we all need to be aware of.  Let me know if you think it’s a good idea.

And thankfully, that Valium has kicked in.

What’s worse?

Tags

anxiety, bipolar, coping skills, depression, disability, insomnia, lamictal, latuda, medications, memory loss, Mental Health, Mental Illness, prozac, saphris, seroquel, therapy, zyprexa

What’s worse…the side effects or the medication?

Unfortunately, that is the choice that we often have to make.  Not just those of us with mental health issues, I know.  But that is the direction I’m coming from, because that is the direction that affects me.

Over the last year and a half my meds have been changed approximately 6 times, not counting dosage changes.  Seroquel XR, Prozac, Lamictal, Latuda, Saphris and Zyprexa. These have been combined with Prozac and Neurontin (for depression and restless leg syndrome), a low dose of Elavil for pain, various anti-anxiety meds and several different sleep meds.  Right now my meds are Tegretol, Prozac, Neurontin, Elavil, Klonopin, Ambien and Trazadone as needed for sleep.

My actual meds look different now.

And, I’m doing ok.  Just ok. Not bad, but…not great.

The Tegretol is causing memory problems.  The Lamictal did the same thing at a higher dose, but at a lower dose didn’t really work on the bipolar as well.  But, the Lamictal helped me to gain weight, as did the Seroquel XR.  A LOT of weight.  Even while on Weight Watchers I gained weight.  To deny myself food over and over again and STILL gain weight was creating depression.  The Tegretol XR, while not helping me lose weight, has stopped the gain and made weight loss possible again.

My goal with all these medications has always been to get me well enough to go back to work.  I have applied for disability because I needed to get the process started, but in the back of my mind I always figured I’d get back to work at some point.  I brought it up in therapy on Friday and Karen, nicely, shot me down.  She pointed out that I’m spending all of my time on my coping skills (blogging, gardening, coupon clipping, therapy, resting) and if I start working, my stress will go up and the time for my coping skills will go down. Which will more than likely end badly.

I’m trying now to decide if I’m willing to deal with the side effects I’m feeling with the Tegretol or not.  I stop halfway through sentences because I forget what I’m talking about, or can’t find the words I’m looking for.  This post has already taken me an hour because I keep losing my train of thought.  But, my mood swings have been less intense and shorter in duration.  For a med resistant, rapid cycler like me that’s not too bad.

I have to decide if I’m willing to give up my memory for more stable moods.

What side effects are you willing to accept?

New Meds

Tags

bipolar, lamictal, prozac, seroquel xr, tegretol

Up early and I’m not feeling it already.  It’s dark, it’s cold, and since SC votes after NH the onslaught of political commercials is reaching its saturation point.

I was able to get myself an appointment at the pdocs office yesterday.  There is really something to say for having a good relationship with the receptionist or nurses or whoever schedules your doctor’s appointments.  I have to get through Roxanne to get to Dr. M. and she likes me, so she tries hard to help me.

ANYWAY, I told Dr. M that I’m done with this Seroquel XR / Lamictal/ Prozac combo. We’ve been playing with it for over a year.  We’ve tried so many different permutations that I’ve lost count.  The last straw was 50 mg in the morning of Lamictal, which made me severely anxious.  Even the 2 mg of klonopin I get per day wasn’t touching it and then I had no more klonopin for the day.

So, I went for blood work yesterday to check liver function, and assuming all of that is fine, I start Tegretol later today.  Goodbye Lamictal, goodbye Seroquel….don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.  We’re also adding in Trazadone if needed for sleep.

I’m happy that we are finally trying something different.  But, at the same time, I’m worried about what will happen if it doesn’t work.  It’s, I think, a very common worry with any type of mental illness.  If the meds are an epic fail….well…that’s a big fat problem.

But, I’m going into this trying very very hard to be happy and upbeat about the situation. I’ve been labeled med and treatment resistant, but who knows, maybe it’s because I’ve never tried this one.

One thing that Dr. M. said yesterday that rankled me a bit was that Tegretol is a good medicine that works and she doesn’t know why doctors (including herself, I hope) have gotten away from prescribing it.  I wanted to scream at her that maybe it is the constant onslaught of drug reps coming in and out with samples and samples of all the newest crap. Look, it’s NEW, it must be GREAT!!!  But, what about the meds that have been around for forever.  They’re still being made because THEY WORK.  Otherwise, they would have stopped production of these meds years and years ago.

I go back to her in two weeks and, fingers crossed, I hope I will be feeling ok.  It will be great if I’m feeling great, but I’m shooting for at least ok.

So….

Tags

anxiety, bipolar, lamictal, latuda, prozac, psychiatrist, saphris, seroquel

So…..I took my 50mg dose of Lamictal upon waking every day for the last 5 days.  Each day I feel the anxiety rising within a half hour.  Waking up anxious is not new to me, but doing it daily is.  I expect that within another half hour there will not be enough food in the world to satisfy me.  I won’t be hungry.  But I will have a terribly strong desire to eat anyway.

So….I’m going to call the pdoc office when they open and request an emergency appointment to fix this.  It is obviously not working.  I’m going to request Topomax or Geodone. I’m tired of playing around with Seroquel, Lamictal and Prozac.  They are not working.  I think we have tried every possible combination of these meds and it’s just not doing it.  I’m feeling like a drastic change is required, and these meds may or may not work, but I have to get away from what I’m on now.  I could not tolerate the newer stuff like Saphris and Latuda, so I’m thinking it’s time to go off script and try completely new stuff.

So….that’s all I can manage right now.  Hopefully I’ll be able to write more later.

Alone time

Tags

addict, addiction, alone, alone time, depression, drug addict, drug treatment, rehab, suboxone, therapist, therapy

Originally I was going to title this “Be Careful What You Wish For”.  But, now I’m realizing that these feelings are entirely dependent on the time of day and how much I’m thinking about at the time.

I couldn’t wait for MIL to go to PA to visit family.  We bought her a plane ticket for Christmas and she is gone for 10 days.  10 days where I would have the house to myself every afternoon and evening after hubby went to work.  And then hubby and I would have the house to ourselves over the New Year’s holiday.

But, now hubby is in PA, too.  It’s a necessary trip, to get J into rehab.  But, after hubby left yesterday, I was really disappointed.  I didn’t want the house to myself anymore.  I wanted hubby to not have to leave.  I wanted to have him here for our traditional chilled out New Year’s Eve.

But, then I got up this morning and I was able to get things accomplished. Early.  While I have energy.  And I didn’t have to be extra special quiet, because no one else is here.

I need to revel in this  time alone.  I have to find a way to enjoy every single drop of it.  Because, it could be the last time I’m alone for a very long time.

Assuming J goes to rehab, he will not be able to stay in PA.  His mother is useless and her badgering will only send him back to old friends and old habits.

So, he will be coming to live with us.

I don’t even know how we are going to figure that out.  But, again assuming he goes into rehab, we will have about a month to get it together.  I know that he has to be responsible for himself, but we can’t just leave him there.  We have to help him change his situation.  It will be his decision to make it work, but we need to give him a fighting chance and he will not have that living with his mother.  Rehab will help him get medical assistance so we will be able to help him find a therapist (no way is he going to Karen, she’s mine!) and get him set with a doctor that can help manage his meds.  He’s going to need an antidepressant and rehab will more than likely start him on suboxone for the heroin detox and recovery.

Karen and I need to start right away preparing my mental state for J’s possible move here.  The last time someone moved in (MIL) I dropped my marbles only 2 months later.  I couldn’t cope with the change and the depression made me want to wrap my car around a tree.

Now the change is going to be staggeringly large.  As of right now, the only place for J to sleep is the couch.  Hubby and I have been waiting for a little over a year now, to put a small bedroom addition on the back of the house. This was to have been paid for with the money MIL got for selling her house in PA.  But, it hasn’t happened and her money is dwindling fast. She copes with her depression by shopping.  Not good.

This situation is a serious test of my ability to handle one thing at a time.  I cannot allow myself to get worked up about what is coming a month from now.  I have to deal with what I can do now.  And that is to support hubby and get this house purged of crap and cleaned super well so that we are ready to start dealing with J moving in.  We may finish the room over the garage (although I don’t know where all the shit that is up there now will go) or to get that addition built however we can.

For now, I await hubby’s call to let me know if J goes to rehab or not.

Bipolar dispair

Tags

anxiety, bipolar, Celexa, Cymbalta, depression, disability, dry mouth, klonopin, lamictal, latuda, Lexapro, medication cost, medications, Mental Health, Mental Illness, prozac, psychiatrist, saphris, side effects, stigma, suicidal thoughts, suicide, Trazodone, zyprexa

 

Christmas is over and bipolar is still here.

I’m starting to come back around to my baseline of constant low level anxiety.  I got a couple weeks out of my med changes and now they are slowly failing me yet again.  I will go to next pdoc appt and request an increase of klonopin, which she will give me.  That will hold for a couple weeks and then I’ll need more.  So we’ll change to something else.  She loves messing around with my prozac dosage, so I’m sure we’ll do some of that as well.  Can’t increase lamictal or I’ll lose my memory again.  Can’t increase Seroquel XR or I’ll stop losing weight and start gaining again.  Latuda?   Immediate fail.  Zyprexa? Immediate fail. Lexapro?  Been there, done that.  Cymbalta? Couldn’t pay me enough. Celexa?  Eventual fail.  Trazodone?  Eventual fail. Saphris? Immediate fail.  There are more.  I’ve been through all the sleeping pills and all the anxiety rescue meds more than once.  We just keep cycling through them as their effectiveness wears off.

It’s an exhausting cycle which many people go through when confronted with mental illness.  There just isn’t a good enough solution.  We’re the guinea pigs of our own treatment.  We get fat from our meds.  We get dry mouth and horrible breath.  The depression meds make us manic, but if we don’t take them we move towards suicidal.  Some of the meds take away our personalities.  We become emotionless robots, plodding through our days, enjoying little to none of it.  We lose our memory.  We lose our creativity.  Many of us don’t regain the ability to rejoin the workforce.  But, obtaining disability is a multi-year odyssey in humiliation and poverty during which we struggle to pay our doctors and purchase our ridiculously expensive meds.

And, as if all of that was not enough, we are told to suck it up.  We are told that if we exercise we won’t need those meds.  We are told that suicide is selfish.  We are told we are lazy.  We are told we are a drain on the system.

If we are fortunate enough to eventually obtain disability, we live in poverty.  And disability can be taken away, regardless of our doctors reports, leaving us to wean ourselves off dangerous medications without medical supervision.

The stigma of mental illness will keep many of us from getting the treatment we need.  We will endeavor to keep our families and friends in the dark about our conditions for fear of losing them.  We berate ourselves for being so weak and crazy.  Because our illness can’t be seen, it is hard to accept.

We remain anonymous, even to each other.  Being known, speaking or writing publically could make the government decide that we are, after all, capable of doing the things our doctors say we can’t.  It wouldn’t matter that it is taking me hours to write this.  I would never be able to commit to speaking anywhere, as there are days I can’t bring myself to get out of bed. Or shower.  Or eat.  Or hear loud noises.  Or have conversations with others.  Or see the sun.  And there are rarely warnings that those days are coming.  So, we don’t trust even the people who live with the same problems as ourselves, with our real identity.  Which I believe hurts us in the long run.

I wish I knew how to make it all stop.  A med that will help everyone with a minimum of side effects.  A removal of stigma so that our condition can be openly dealt with, as it would if we had cancer.  And a government that would listen to the opinions of our doctors and help us when we are no longer able to help ourselves without a helping hand.  After all, I paid into that system for 25 years.  Instead they are forcing us to fight battles we don’t have the strength to fight to get the money we are were told we were entitled to when we were forced to pay into the system.

It would be so wonderful if we could all speak in unison of the trials and tribulations of mental illness.  But those of us with the most need are those whose suffering prevents them from doing much else but suffer.

 

Cycling around to miserable

Tags

anxiety, bipolar, depressed, depression, Mental Illness, triggers

It’s been a little while since I’ve felt this bad.  Since holing up in my room with only my computer and a couple bottles of water seemed like a good plan for the rest of the day.

I’m crying…more…again…still…

And all precipitated by the food saver.

See, I wanted to bake cookies this morning.  I was feeling fairly decent and while I wasn’t sure that I had the energy to really go full hog on the cookie thing, I thought I might get one batch of chocolate chip for hubby.

But I needed to bring the mixer to the counter to use it and there is no room because the food saver is there.

The food saver is a new addition to our kitchen.  It is the purchase MIL consoled herself with while we were on vacation.  For whatever reason, the million times I have said that I want to keep this counter clear, so that there is workspace, was apparently not in effect for the foodsaver.

Now, I am at hopeless because I don’t know where to put the fucking thing.  My initial thought was that I’ll just find it a home and that will be the end of it.  Somewhere it can be stored and used in the same place.  Somewhere where it doesn’t take up any of the precious 8 square feet of flat workspace in my kitchen.

That led me to this:

This is not supposed to be the place where food goes to die.  I have made that abundantly clear.  But there are 3 loaves of bread languishing in near moldy status here, along with english muffins and various chips that no one will ever eat.

And now, I had two things that needed to be fixed.

And apparently two is too many.

I feel ridiculous.  I feel stupid.  I feel pathetic.

And let me stop you right there.  I know it’s the stupid useless brain.  I know it’s all stretched out of proportion by a brain that doesn’t work right, meds that fight what they were made to cure and each other, and a family member who insists on doing shit I have asked everyone not to do.  I know.

But it doesn’t seem to matter that I know.  I’m still a melted pile of tears pathetically laying in bed, locked in what passes for a bedroom around here.

Lest we forget, MIL was supposed to help us put a small addition on our home with the money that she got selling her house.  But, she lent the rest of it to her sister.  So, she has a huge bedroom and hubby and I live in the little piece of leftover space.  The farthest I can get from the catbox while in bed is about 5 feet.

But, I digress.

Hubby is not feeling well.  But, he’s outside hanging Christmas lights and in a couple of hours will be leaving for another day of overtime at work.

I have been driven to bed by a foodsaver.

I know that it truly isn’t about the foodsaver.  I know that it’s about not being able to control what goes on in my own space.  I know that it’s my shitty brain giving me signals that I can’t line up with what’s happening and now I’m hysterical over a foodsaver.

I also know that in this condition I can not tell anyone what is actually wrong.  I have to put it off on a “bad day” because no one is going to understand why a foodsaver has sent me to bed with the vapors.  I can’t even really explain it to them, because there is only a smidge of logic there.

“Well just move it” the highly logical, sane person will say.  Which makes, of course, total sense.  So why can’t I just do that?

Because right now, my brain is telling my mind that the thing is evil.  That it’s place on my counter top is a plot to make me insane.  That there is literally no place in the entire house that I can move that thing to and be ok with that decision.  And that my desire to do so isn’t worth the explanations that will be necessary to everyone in the house, although logically I know that no one will care, as long as I am baking cookies.

Let’s please not forget that I forgot to run the dishwasher last night.  So what, the sane person says.  Well, if I don’t run it at night, then it’s not clean in the morning to empty.  If I have to run it in the morning, then I have to find a way to motivate to empty it in the afternoon, which is the wrong time to empty the dishwasher.  My schedule says I empty it in the morning NOT the afternoon.  Which means that dishes pile up in the sink, because I refuse to empty the dishwasher.  And the resulting mess will take days to sort itself out and get me back on my normal schedule.

So, between the foodsaver and the dishwasher, I have failed the household, and myself, in epic ways.  I banish myself to my room, where my near hysterical tears do not affect anyone else’s day.  If asked, I will say that I’m having a bad day and refuse to explain.

Because, really, how do I explain how devastating this is to someone whose mind works with them, and not against them?

I wish

Tags

bipolar, borderline personality disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, insomnia, medications, wishes

I’m up. I’ve been up.  It’s just a little after 5:00 am on the east coast (U.S.) and I’ve been up since 3:30am.  That’s 6 hours of sleep which was interrupted once.  I’m still tired but the brain insists that I stay up.

I wish:

1. Racing thoughts would give me a damn break
2. Sleep was something that didn’t require me to be drugged to hell and back
3. There was a “rescue med” for depression
4. There was a one size fits all med for bipolar
5. The cat didn’t just barf
6. I wasn’t awake
7. I didn’t think hubby would be better off with me dead
8. People didn’t think that if I just tried I would be ok
9. It wasn’t so terrifying to admit to those I know irl that I need disability
10. That I could do things without worrying that others would think I look silly/stupid
11. That I wasn’t so easily embarrassed
12. That I didn’t have to look up how to spell embarrassed
13. That I didn’t forget every damn thing (like how to spell embarrassed and where I went on my honeymoon (seriously))
14. That I didn’t have bipolar
15. That I didn’t have generalized anxiety disorder
16. That I didn’t have panic disorder
17. That I didn’t have mild forms of OCD and agoraphobia
18. That I didn’t have borderline personality disorder
19. That my meds worked
20. That everyone who needs care could get care that doesn’t suck
21. That everyone who needs meds could afford them
22. That I didn’t feel guilty about everything
23. That this was a complete list

If wishes were horses….

Lefties are crazy?

Tags

bipolar, left-handed, lefties, Mental Health, Mental Illness, psychosis, PTSD, stigma

I woke up this morning (at 3:45 am  WTF?) with this song running through my head.  I can’t imagine why, but I thought I’d share the ear worm with you.  Enjoy.

I was perusing my newsfeed on facebook when I saw this article about lefties posted on my step-son’s wall (he’s a leftie, I’m a rightie).  So I’m reading it and everything was fine and interesting until I got to:

#2 Lefties Have a Higher Risk of Psychosis – This study was done on 107 people in an outpatient mental health clinic.  Apparently 40% of the people at this clinic are diagnosed with psychosis, which is higher then the national 10% of lefties.  But is this a clinic for people without insurance?  Poor neighborhood? Affluent neighborhood?  The word “clinic” seems to generally connotate poorer neighborhoods (as in free clinics).  Maybe that has something to do with it.  But, is this really the best study out there on this topic?  One clinic? Really?  Hardly seems worth writing about in a mainstream “news” source, but they did it anyway

#9 Lefties Are Scaredy-Cats – ok, whatever.  Until they link being scared at a couple of scenes in Silence of the Lambs to PTSD.  ??The fuck???  No one has PTSD because they watched Silence of the Lambs.  It may trigger someone’s PTSD, but it certainly doesn’t cause it.  The next paragraph backs of a little bit saying that it’s subtle signs, kind of like PTSD, but honestly the damage is done.  Need more research blah blah blah

Anyone skimming this article, which is what I did at first until I noticed these buzzwords, comes away believing that left handed people are more likely to be nuts.

Or much worse, someone who is left-handed may be more likely to believe that they are nuts.  It worries me.  My step-son is going through a bad breakup and is already more likely to believe bad things about himself.  Now he’s read an article which says that 40% of lefties are more likely to have psychosis and PTSD?

So this little fluff piece about lefties, is now pissing me off royally.  I thought I was going to have a nice little easy cutesy read about the benefits and factoids about lefties that I could good naturedly joke about with my step-son.  But now I’m concerned about how this article may affect him.  Fuck

And it brings me full circle to stigma.

I posted about my bi-polar on Facebook one day a few weeks ago.  I just felt the need to get it out there.  I was tired of the elephant in the room, so to speak.  Crickets.  Total silence.  Actually, that’s not true.  One person commented.  One.  Even if I only have 10 friends on Facebook that’s only 10%.  Needless to say, I’m pretty much just using facebook to keep up with the kids and occasionally perusing the news feed.  I wasn’t far from that to start with.   All of my Facebook friends are people I know in real life.  They are all, at least, acquaintances.  A good majority probably didn’t see it, because that’s how facebook works.  But, of the people that I regularly interact with there, only one commented.

I will try to draft a letter to Huffington Post later regarding this article.  But, I’m already starting to feel crappy enough that I’m not sure I’ll get much done today except food for the hubby.  That 5 hours of sleep isn’t doing me any good at all.

How do we advocate for ourselves and fight stigma when we can’t manage much more then the basics on a given day, and sometimes not even that much?

Maybe I’ll just delete the video and send this blog piece to Huffington.

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Tags

anger, anxiety, ativan, bipolar, Bob's Burgers, depression, disability, hypomania, insomnia, irritability, mania, medications, Mental Health, Mental Illness, mixed episode, normal, prozac, psychiatrist, restoril, SSI, zyprexa

I’m annoyed.

I could go through all the little petty things that have landed me at annoyed.  But, the fact is, that it doesn’t matter, cause in the end, I’m still annoyed.  Although stupid questions aren’t helping.

It seems to be going around, too.  Almost all the bloggers I follow are feeling crappy.

I seem to be in this weird routine.  In the morning I’m good.  I have energy, I get a few things done, I’m moderately pleasant to be around.

The afternoons are becoming a problem for me and all who live with me.  I’m being triggered in the afternoons and I just am at the end of my teeny weeny little rope.  I’m tired of feeling shitty.

I’m really tired of never feeling happy.

I realized it this morning.  I have periods when I’m good.  But I’m not happy.  I can’t remember when the last time was that I could say that I was well and truly happy.   There are things about my life that I enjoy.  But I can’t really say that I’m happy when I’m doing those things.  I don’t feel delight or joy.  I’m good.  Or I’m really not good.

And I think it’s the fucking meds.  In fact I’d bet almost anything that it is.

I remember back to a time when I was manic, but I didn’t know what it was.  I just thought I was really energetic.  But, I also remember periods of time during all that when I did feel joy, happy, content.  And I wasn’t on the cocktail of doom like I am now.

I’m trying to think of every psych med that I’ve been on, starting back during the antidepressant only days when I thought I was just kinda depressed all the way through two inpatient hospitalizations, one outpatient hospitalization and therapy sessions too numerous to count.  And the only ones that I’m positive I haven’t taken are depakote and lithium. There may be a couple others, but I think that a lot of us can say that we’ve been through most of them.

Now, I’m a compliant kind of gal.  I take what I’m given, I go to my appointments, I try my hardest to do what I’m told.  But, I’m about done with the meds.  Not for forever.  I want a clean slate.  I want to start from scratch.  Because I’m pretty fucking sure that we’ve missed the mark somewhere along the lines.

Before I went to my pdoc appt earlier this week my psych meds were: Ativan 1mg 4x/day, prozac 20mg at bed, lamictal 200mg at bed, neurontin 300mg 4x/day, plus restoril for sleep.  At my appointment I told pdoc how I’d been doing, which was shitty with a side of what I thought was mixed episode (but now am thinking may be ultradian cycling).  To cap it I wasn’t sleeping through the night even though I was taking 2 of the ativan and the restoril at bedtime (her orders) (see?  super-compliant)

The fix was to increase the prozac to 60mg and add in zyprexa.  Plus, I was to continue the restoril, but space the ativan out through the day??????????????????????????????

Seriously, what the fuck.  At the time, I just said ok, walked off with my scripts and went about my day.  But, did we seriously just add meds into the mix and not take anything away?  I don’t think on my feet nearly as well as I used to (and even then it wasn’t that fast) so I didn’t question this until today which is, like 4 days later.

But, this is why I want the clean slate.  I want to start from scratch.  Take it all away and see where I wind up and then build it all back in.

Of course, that’s completely impossible, because I’d probably have some kind of psychotic break going off all the meds and even if I didn’t, I know there would be hospitalization involved.

And this pisses me off to absolutely no end.

I get tired of just ranting and raving in therapy and getting no better.  Well, incrementally better, but you know what I mean.  I get tired of throwing a fistful of pills down my gullet every night and not feeling better.  Of course, I’ve gained 50 pounds, found the acne that I lost as a teenager, remember nothing, trip over my words, trip over my feet (I fall so often…it’s just ridiculous), am perpetually pissed off, and a host of other shit that I can’t think of right now ‘CAUSE MY MEMORY IS FOR SHIT.

When I filled out the paperwork for disability I got to the part about my medications, and I cried.  And I tried again and I cried again.  Because they wanted to know all the medications I was taking (no problem but I need another sheet of paper please) and what medications caused which side effects.  Seriously?  Have they never done this before?  All these medications cause most of these side effects.  Recently I filled out the paperwork for the lawyer to file for an appeals hearing.  SSI wanted the same information about the medications and side effects again (3rd time, I shit you not).  This time, I just wrote all the meds in a list, then all the side effects in another list just to the right of the first list and put a bracket between the two lists.  What the fuck ever. Let the lawyer figure it out.

I just wish it was easier for all of us.  But like the saying goes, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

Right now I’m just waiting for Cartoon Network to flip over to Adult Swim at 8:00 so I can watch my cartoons.  Spending bits of time with the hubby and Bob’s Burgers are pretty much the only things I look forward to these days.

And in the spirit of the meme that I posted above here’s something else for ya