Mental Illness – Page 3 – Navelgazing Writer

Bipolar Mania: Goal – SLEEP

10/4/16, 9:56am

Just back from the Psych… who would make quite a wonderful midwife or doula because of his soft voice and gentle demeanor.

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Med Changes

He was fine with the Risperdal at 4 mg (thank goodness!)
Remove Cymbalta until sleep issues are resolved
Remove Wellbutrin until sleep issues are resolved
Add Trazodone, 50-400 mg (start at 100 mg)

I cannot write anymore right now. (will put med links in later)

Meds taken, going to bed.

Thanks all for your wonderful thoughts and words of encouragement.

10/4/16, 10:10am

Bipolar Mania: Holding (out) Hope

holdingouthope

10/4/16, 6:10am

I’m scared.

The Psych office opens at 8:00am and I am hoping to be there when they open. I am not even going to wait to ask for a slot, just go sit on their desks.

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I want to feel better.

10/4/16, 6:17am

Bipolar Mania: Precariously Weird

10/3/16, 5:24pm

Yesterday was so awesome. Filled with energy and no hallucinations. I took two short naps, but didn’t take my Risperdal until 2am because I’d moved into a new day without seeing it happen and I was still wicked high on energy.

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From Awesome to Terrifying

Well, I did have a few images/tactile sensations trying to invade around 8pm.

After I took the 4mg Risperdal at 2am, I was making my bed after having done the laundry during my frenzy and when I bent over to put the sheet on the back corner, some-one/thing fucking kicked me onto the bed. I thought I was being robbed! I fell and whirled around and nothing was there. I rubbed my ass it hurt so much. I started crying, got back up, put the sheet on and moved to grab the pillows off my chair and some-one/thing grabbed my upper arm; I could feel the fingers digging in. No one/thing was here. These were, by far, the most aggressive hallucinations I’d ever felt. Scared the bejeezus out of me. I put Bear McCreary’s Outlander music on and quickly jumped into bed and under the covers. I breathed with Raya Yarbrough as she sang the Skye Boat Song and eventually fell asleep.

boleman-herring — artist: Elizabeth Boleman-Herring

Today Sucked

10/3/16, 7:29pm

Today, however, has been entirely different than the delightful highs of yesterday.

I seem to have an emotional mechanism… a gauge, if you will… that can instantly detect where my emotions are at any given time. Today I woke up feeling… sad? Dejected? Off?… I sighed knowing today was going to be tough. And it has been.

I have struggled to type. Normal words come out spelled as a homophone of themselves. “Brake” comes out “break”… “flee,” “flea.” Frustrating as crap having to go back and edit over and over… not something I often have to do.

I did take calls, but could feel that too-fast mind on overdrive and had to really harness the energy so I didn’t talk over clients. One caller in particular spoke at a gentle pace and I could feel myself tromp tromp tromping on some of his words (and I could feel his frustration as well), so I was really strong with my voice and stopped doing it. The call went smoother and he was very happy in the end. (It was less than 15 minutes long, so I only had to control myself for a mere few minutes.)

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10/3/16, 8:28pm

I’m overwhelmed and need to lay down. Do I take my meds and sleep? Do I just rest for awhile? I cannot even make a simple decision like: Should I drink water or Diet Coke. (No comments from the peanut gallery with your opinions!) Back in awhile.

10/3/16, 9:24pm

I went and cried in bed thinking about today.

As the sun went down, I began to break apart more. Tears, laughter, morose, frustration. A couple of the guys annoyed the fuck out of me so I decided, with check-in, that I was a tad over-reacting and best email with them in the morning instead of tonight. Apparently I shouldn’t have screamed my head off in anger (in my room) when I was called “Sweetheart” in an email.

Oh, and the news. I am not supposed to watch or read the news. I am even trying to stay out of Facebook a lot so I don’t get dragged down by the horrible things going on. But I caught a whiff of the tragedy (understatement) in Aleppo and went to read what was happening. I have barely stopped crying since. And then all the Trump shit? It’s just too much. Too, too much.

Reaching Out for Help (Again)

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When I had my second “break-down” in 1998, my dear friend who introduced me to the Internet (on New Year’s Eve 1994), along with my two lovers at the time, took me to the doctor where I was diagnosed (finally) with Bipolar Disorder 1 and put on a cocktail of meds that began my life of being medicated to keep me sane.

So tonight, as I felt my mind was disintegrating, I called my friend who understands in more ways than most in my life. She listened as I explained what was going on (hallucinations, physically shaking with electric energy and occasional jolts, crying, laughing, anger, despair) and she helped me decide to see the doctor again tomorrow instead of next week. No suicidal ideation at all, but the feeling like my mind is going to spill out of my ears onto the floor is so enormous, I am sorely tempted to go to the hospital, but know all they would do would be put me in and I don’t want that. (For me, the hospital represents HELP!… a long-ingrained midwifery belief.)

I am just going to watch something inane and work on my Picture Files.

I promised those in my life: NO NEWS & CALL DOC in the morning.

You all heard me!

10/3/16, 9:58pm

Mania: Momentary Respite?

10/2/16, 3:42pm

I took a 45 min nap and slept really well. I have been taking calls and I don’t feel like I am screaming loudly or talking too fast… what is this? Is this the trip down?

spiral_down_by_draken413o

As I said, I haven’t had a manic episode since 1998 and was nearly psychotic then. Not sure if I have been this time… suspect it will be determined in retrospect.

10/2/16, 6:16pm

I took another nap, but just saw my first hallucination of the day.

sigh

I can feel the productivity waning.

I Googled Bipolar Mania Cycle to read what might be happening, but stopped because I think I would rather write and read after the fact instead of anticipating or reacting to something I’ve seen on some Psychology site. So I closed the tab.

My Inner Nautilus

I have this thing about the Nautilus.

When in therapy, it is a common analogy to use the onion to describe the process of “peeling away layers” of experiences and feelings that one comes across over the months & years (and decades!). I find the onion too tearful and have chosen instead the nautilus.

Inside the nautilus are chambers.

A newly hatched nautilus begins life with about four chambers and develops an average of 30 chambers by adulthood.

Humans do that chamber-growth sorta thing, too.

I find the analogy much more appropriate than a stinky onion.

10/2/16, 6:43pm

As I write, I can feel myself feeling more and more weird. The hallucinations are increasing. Shadows… the bugs are beginning (visually)… nothing tactile or auditory yet, but those are coming. I can feel the aura like I did last night.

I want to cry.

It was such a nice day, too.

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Mania: Dancing Now!

10/2/16, 8:24am

Well, now that the room is clean… I am a dancing fool! Pretty hilarious at my weight, too.

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This would be exactly what I feel like right now. Don’t even know how I found the gif, but it is as expressive as I want my words to be.

Much better than the angry or sad person I’ve been for all these days before.

Mania can be so awesome.

10/2/16, 8:30am

A Manic Dervish

10/2/16, 7:12am

I’ve been up since 3am cleaning like a whirling dervish.

whirling-dervishes

Busy Hands Filling Garbage Bags

I have no hallucinations this morning, but am filled with energy. I am a Kon Mari fool, pulling out drawers, yanking out things to throw away, wiping them down with baby wipes. Putting things back in neatly. Moving on to the next. And the next. And next.

I hope when I come down I don’t find I’ve thrown the wrong things out. (I did that once before… threw out a slew of eye make-up… from Sephora, no less. It still stings.)

It feels so good to be full of energy after yesterday’s suck-fest.

whirlturkeydervish

I wonder how long it will last.

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And if I will crash afterwards.

10/2/16, 7:27am

Not Fit for Human Consumption

10/2/16, 12:36am

This is written all over the place. I should have put times on paragraphs. I will try to do that from now on.

10/1/16, sometime early evening

Today is bad. A terrible struggle. I am in an intense place of self-loathing (as you can see by my previous post). And there was that time (a few hours ago) I screamed at the woman in the Pharmacy line and had to be escorted out of the store.

Ugh.

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The Family That Ignores One’s Mental Illness

Tomorrow is my sister Amy’s birthday. She died of an overdose to opiates, with a side kick of 4 Fentanyl patches on her side and torso, 5 years ago. My mom was very upset, so I went over to talk about things… including memories. Amy and I had a contentious relationship from day 1… we were 18 months apart. The last years were not pleasant with her, so consoling mom wasn’t an easy task in this frame-of-mind.

My family has barely an inkling of my mental illness. We are a Sweep-Nasty-Things-Under-the-Carpet kind of family. I don’t hide it, but when I say something they don’t want to hear… oops! Gotta get dinner going. Or, did you see that Trump said ?

family

Even though my mom knows I am in a Manic place, she kept telling me to be quiet, don’t talk so loud. My family’s going to Chinese dinner tonight and I was told I had to go, no choice in the matter. “Do it for mom, Barbie!”

When I tried to explain the BP Mania I am having, in many different ways and words, they looked at me blankly. I finally said, “I have horrible diarrhea,” and there was a collective, “OH! Well stay home then!”

rolling eyes

How Do I Function This Way?

i_am_bipolar

10/2/16, 12:45am

I went to go pick up the 1mg Risperdal from the Pharmacy and, waiting in line, a woman annoyed the crap out of me. I have zero clue what set me off, but the next thing I know, I was screaming and a friendly face from behind the counter came out to help me calm down, got my meds for me then she walked me to the car. I was sobbing with shame by then. She hugged me gently and kindly.

I got home and opened the bag and no Risperdal. I thought my head was going to explode. I thought, “Well, I am going to take 4mg again and call him and tell him I am just going to take the 4mg a day and be done with it.”

The past few days, I seem to be doing well during the day, then tumble into the crap hallucination stuff over an hour or so’s time in the late afternoon, so I thought maybe taking 2mg during the day and then 2mg at night might work. I actually think I was far worse today doing that. Now, of course, there is the: what do I do tomorrow? Wait until I collapse in craziness before taking the 4mg? Fuck. This sucks.

Watching Shakespeare in Love for the 800th time. Good non-thinking, not scary movie that is about writing (one of my big three, along with baseball and anachronism), that make perfect movies and books.

Swatting at Hallucinations

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Yeah, a (not real) roach jumped from my side table to my arm and I screamed and threw my Ramen in the air.

Fuck hallucinations. Fuck them hard.

hallucinations-fuck-off

Night, all.

10/2/16, 12:56am

Bipolar Mania: An Aura of Distress

It is 9/30/16 at 4:20pm.

I just took the 4mg Risperdal (it’s supposed to be 3 but I haven’t been comfortable leaving the house to get the 1mg ones yet and they are teeny with no scores so I made the executive decision to take 4mg). I am struggling to type correctly, so pardon typos, I will fix them later. I wanted to write, though, to get the feelings down as they were happening. They started… then increase exponentially as the minutes pass.

Part 1 – Hallucination Overload and Part 2 – Bipolar Mania: Recovering share the beginnings of recovering from a (pretty mild, but still terrifying) Manic Episode.

My Unraveling

I had a good day, handled several calls (am a Phone Sex Operator), did the two Tumblrs, was able to write the other blog posts… and now, though.

I am sweating profusely. I have been seeing increasingly ominous hallucinations (shadows, rats and fucking cockroaches) and feeling things crawling on me… and the fucking whispers. (Sorry, the word “fuck” is just appropriate sometimes.)

It is terrifying.

My hands are getting jittery and I am missing the right keys on the keyboard (I am an amazingly fast and accurate typist). Things look weird… Dali-esque. And there is a ghost trail effect going on. Like this kind of (can’t find an exact gif, but this’ll do… losing patience):

this-one

I am glad I took the meds, they should kick in soon (it is now 7:16pm) so I can sleep and they can get back in my system. I am going to call Monday and ask about taking them twice a day so I am not in bed at 7:30pm and up at 3am for the day. Not good for business.

Does This Phenomenon Have a Name?

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I call it an aura because it is similar to an aura with migraines (I do not get migraines but everyone in my family does)… the premonition of doom so to speak. All I could find was this one article on an aura of doom with hypomania… doesn’t really fit, though. Anyone have a name for it?

I have Yusuf Islam on tonight… formerly Cat Stevens.

I am going to go lay down and meditate. I do Mindfulness Meditation. Struggling at the moment, that is for sure. But laying still, eyes closed… covers over me… I don’t see or feel as much.

No suicidal ideation at all today.

Light is closing in.

More later.

(And thanks to my new readers! You all are awesome for following along.)

It is 7:30pm

Bipolar Mania: Recovering

I published Hallucination Overload over the last few days and now that I am on medication for the Bipolar Mania, new things have been going on that need to be said.

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9/30/16, 4:00am

I’m trying so hard to hang on while the Risperdal takes its full effect, but it’s challenging, to say the least.

I took the first proper dose on Wednesday, 9/28/16 and thought I was doing better, but last night sucked bad.

I had a pretty good day, productive, took calls, wrote, but as the day wore on, I fell deeper and deeper into weirdness.

abconfused

I laid down and took my phone with me and texted a friend. I asked him to tell me stories so he shared nice memories from his youth and then a favorite Fantasy story. I laid there weeping, filled with gratitude for his kindness.

While he talked to me, I began crying in earnest. Reason, no reason… who knows. I called Zack, sobbing by that time, and he kindly reminded me of the down that comes after the high.

I felt mad, going from laughing hysterically to chuckling to feeling fine to falling into the hole again. All within the span of an hour.

I was back up to the computer at 6:00pm, but by 7:30pm, I was having horrible hallucinations again, could feel my mind crackling precariously. I tried to hold it together… can even see the struggle to stay coherent in my chat log, but by 7:55pm, I was nearly immobilized by the inner turmoil.

womanptsd

I hastily signed off of work then took my Risperdal, turned on Andreas Vollenweider and crawled into bed to wait for the meds to do their thing: send me to sleep & fix my mind.

Laying there, my mind screamed, amplifying the tumult.

Kill yourself.

Go take the massive amount of pills you have just across the room and end it already.

Suicidal Ideation is some fucked-up shit.

I almost went to the hospital to protect myself, but couldn’t even reach the phone to call Zack again for reassurance. I took it as a sign that I also would not be able to get over there, to my drawer filled with medications, feeling a moment of peace.

I don’t know how long it took, but I stayed in the bed, meditating to Andreas Vollenweider – and finally fell asleep. 8pm was the last I saw the clock.

looking-for-self

Looking for My Self

9/30/16, 6:00am

I woke up feeling better (again) at 3am.

I’m logged into work, doing my Tumblr’ing… and writing all of this out. I hope the good feelings last.

Hallucination Overload

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From 9/28/16

I began writing this on Tuesday, 9/27/16 about 2am. I had not slept but 90 minutes total since Sunday at midnight. I got on the Risperdal on Wednesday morning, 9/28/16 at noon (still only having slept a total of 90 minutes since Sunday) and an hour later, was asleep until 6pm. I don’t even remember getting into the bed! Anyway, I am so glad I wrote last night and then shared with my friends in Facebook because tapping into that mass of confusion and horrific images is more challenging after medication and sleep. Read on!

From 9/30/16

It is almost 4am writing this. I need to get this post out and the next started regarding finding balance. Pardon if it is a tad disjointed and it doesn’t have a tied-up-neatly ending.

Ever since the Pulse Massacre, I have had a slow downward slide into depression. I haven’t been in a depression for over 2 years. The children of Aleppo, the Syrian War, the horrific killings of black men, women and children… and then the election stands out all on its own… all of these things have added cement blocks on my limbs and are pulling me under the water. I sort of recognized what was happening, but when the Relief Trucks were bombed in Syria and I was inconsolable for over 2 hours, I knew for sure something was wrong.

Initially, I was put back on Risperdal, a medication I was on for 18 years to quell the hallucinations I always carry with me (olfactory mostly, but also visual and auditory), but had been off of for a year because the hallucinations hadn’t been scary in a couple three years, on Thursday, 9/22/16. The next day, my feet and ankles began swelling, but it didn’t dawn on me that it was the Risperdal until Saturday morning… and of course the office was closed, so I Googled it and it didn’t seem distressing, but was a reportable side effect, so called at 8am on Monday, 9/26/16.

Falling Into Mania

screamingloud

I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder 1 in 1998, have only had 2 manic states total (one in 1996, the other in 1998)… still enough to qualify me for the BP 1.

Until right now.

I was thinking I was merely in a hypomanic state, but these fucking hallucinations shift it to a manic episode.

This is part of what I wrote in Facebook last night:

I could use some good thoughts.

Long story, but the doc took me off the Risperdal 2 days ago and I have only slept 1 hour since then. Am extremely manic and am having really scary hallucinations. I don’t see him until Thursday so am white-knuckling it until then. Have considered going to the hospital several times, but keep holding out. I am not suicidal at all… not even really ideation stuff… but the hallucinations and racing mind with jolts of electricity coursing through my body are really not fun at all. I cannot even work because my speech is so rapid, stumbling over thoughts that have no direct connections to each other… and the flares of anger.

shaking head

I am just best left alone in my room until Thursday. I can write, however, and am pumping out post after post for work. Am writing one for my NgW blog about the hallucinations so maybe if I drop the shit on the page, they will leave me alone for awhile. Light and prayers welcome.

Then later, after being asked why I was taken off the medication, I answered:

scary

The Risperdal was making my feet and ankles swell. Called the doc. Nurse called back and said to halve the dose. I was pretty cranky about that because they were already simmering down the hallucinations (auditory, tactile and visual atm).

Then she calls back like 20 min later and says, “He said to go OFF the Risperdal.”

I was like… “uh, why!?!?”

“Because you are having hallucinations.”

I wanted to scream ugly nasty words hurled against women, but just kind of screeched loudly… “THAT IS WHY I AM ON THE MEDICATION IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!!!”

She said, “Well we can get you in on Thurs at 8:15.”

I was so pissed… still am… and not knowing how much anger is actually appropriate… and mad at myself for…

1) not asking her to go back and fix the stupid comment she made

2) not taking the Risperdal even though he told me to stop.

I get Tardive Dyskinesia really easily with meds I have not used before… and Risperdal and I have an 18-year history. If the feet swelling is dangerous, then fine. If it is just a stupid side effect, I don’t give a crap… GIVE ME THE RISPERDAL. (See! I can’t even control my screaming here and you are are my beloved friends!)

My Beloved Holds Me Tenderly

Later, after talking to my former (30-year) marriage partner Zack (“My Beloved”) for a really long time, where he listened to me ramble and rant… cry and laugh uncontrollably… talking me down from the ledge of insanity several times… reassuring me that if I wanted or needed to go to the hospital, it would be fine, but if I wasn’t suicidal, they might not even keep me, so try and hang on until the office opened at 8:am… I wrote this:

delirium-tremens

I got really scared awhile ago and called Zack who has the best handle on my mental illness and he was very kind and loving and reminding me the rats and roaches aren’t real. That I can get in my bed if I want to… that those rats prancing on my arms, scaring the fuck out of me and making me jump out of my skin are not real.

I feel like my body has a form of Tourette’s, slapping myself randomly because I know there is a family of roaches on my legs… I can SEE them. I can FEEL them. But I swat and they are not really there. I was watching rats climb onto my bed last night. Blink 3x and they are gone. And shadows. Ugh. They darken my peripheral vision… I turn… and they vanish. And the evil whispers. Just out of my range of comprehension. Except when they call my name in a menacing hoarse whisper. Makes me jump every time.

My wonderful Facebook Friends posted, messaged and texted me:

DO NOT WAIT UNTIL THURSDAY.

bpdart

Agitated Waiting Period

I am writing 9/30/16 and ending this post, opening a new one and continuing.

It has been a bizarre few days.

Bipolar Diary: So, So Depressed

I can barely function. Writing has become nearly impossible. I see the Psychiatrist tomorrow morning at 8am. I am hanging on tightly until then.

Despite what I write next, I will not hurt myself. I will not vanish into death. I promise.

Visions of suicide float through my mind. Romantic images of dying like Ophelia (trite, I know) wander, unbidden, throughout my day.

I mentally count my meds, seeing if I have enough to make me fall asleep forever.

Even as I sleep 18 hours a day, unable to work, I am still always exhausted.

I cannot wait to get help tomorrow.

Bipolar Diary: New Meds for Depression

My psychiatrist, whom I adore, was great, totally understanding where I have been. I did tell him about the suicidal thoughts, said the standard line “I do not have a plan to kill myself and promise I will not” to quell any concerns he might have.

I forgot to mention in the last post that all my hallucinations have vanished. ALL of them. I cannot remember a time in 2 decades that I have not had at least one hallucination going on, usually olfactory. My world has quieted… and it is disconcertingly odd.

Medications

I was prescribed Paxil, 20 mg a day and see the doc again in 2 weeks to see if we up it or not. I also lowered the Cymbalta from 90 mg a day to 60 mg a day for a week, then down to 30 mg after that. Interestingly, I have never taken Paxil in all these decades with Depression and Bipolar Disorder.

Dr. Google revealed that Paxil can bring on hypomania, mania, insomnia, agitation and more. I read those side effects and thought, “Bring it on!”

It takes 2-3 weeks to really begin working in earnest and then another few weeks to settle into the system. Crossing my fingers things get better fast. I miss writing!

Bipolar Diary: Depression Deepens

Depression

The last 2 weeks have sucked even worse than when I wrote on July 13, 2017. Tears. Tears. Never-ending tears. The suicidal ideation is coming more often and is more vivid than when I started the Paxil. And the damn hallucinations are back.

sigh

Almost all of my time is in bed, either curled in pain (another post), staring at the ceiling or sleeping. I leave I Love Lucy on in the background. Sometimes Friends. I’m listening to Mists of Avalon (a book I love), but when I listen in bed, I fall right to sleep. I’ve replayed Chapter 6 four times already.

An Odd Sorta Depression

When looking for images about depression lying, I came across several pieces like this one below:

Not sure if I’m just more familiar with my depression than when I was younger or if it has really shifted, but I do not hear the lies the girl in the image does… nothing negative about my body, how alone I am in the world, how fat/ugly/sick I am. I did when I was younger, but not anymore.

I just feel sad. An overwhelming sadness. A pall of melancholia that separates me from the rest of you. I cannot even touch what I am sad about except for the endless distress I have about our country because of 45. But this joylessness is deeper than the fear-for-our-lives kind. I feel like I’m under the thick glass of my Nana’s cake pedestal, so close to others, but unable to penetrate the barrier of dreariness to make a connection.

Medication Changes

The psych doc upped the Paxil to 30mg after 2 weeks on 20mg. He said he still might have to increase it when I see him in 2 weeks. For fuck’s sake, can’t this stuff take effect already? I hate this waiting part.

I have weaned off the Cymbalta. Is that the reason for this huge dip? Who knows anymore. He wanted to increase my Risperdal, but I refused; the eating is out of control with more Risperdal… can’t abide by that.

An aside: I despise the new packaging that seems to be taking over the medication world. I am not stupid, can follow directions, but they are incredibly difficult for me to get into. I’ve asked the Pharmacy to open them for me and then I rip the inner blister pack out, throwing the outer box away. If you haven’t see them, let me introduce you.

slidepackgood — “Follow these 3 simple steps,” it says. Push the blister pack all the way in, then press on the “lock release button” on the left . Finally, pull the sliding pack out at the same time as pushing the spot on the left. I wish it was as easy as they make it sound! It’s almost worse that rubbing my head and patting my belly at the same time.

Suicidal Ideation

I’ve had lots of suicidal thoughts. A friend stayed with me one night when they were especially bad, reminding me every few minutes that Depression is a Liar. Hearing that, knowing it for certain, is what kept (keeps) me going. Hearing that so-and-so loves me doesn’t do much for my mindset because I rationalize that away easily. Depression Lies, however, works wonders.

The thoughts of suicide are so enticing. They call to me seductively as if they were sirens on the ocean’s rocks.

I try to block them out listening to various albums I have memorized. The Eagles, Carly Simon, Sting (Living Sea), and, of course, Hamilton: An American Musical.

I also try to find positive recovery-from-depression-and-suicidal-thoughts articles and posts online. This is one I go back to over and over:

Suicide Prevention: How to Help Someone who is Suicidal and Save a Life

“A suicidal person may not ask for help, but that doesn’t mean that help isn’t wanted. People who take their lives don’t want to die—they just want to stop hurting.”

When I had my first serious clinical depression in my late teens, I didn’t understand the “wanting the pain to stop” aspect and teetered really close to the edge of death.

As I got older and had some decent therapy, I was able to verbalize the inner turmoil and excruciating emotional pain that was drawing me towards dying. Understanding that I didn’t really want to die, but just to stop hurting… a pain that went so deep as to injure my soul… I was able to cling to those brief seconds of “medication will help remove the pain… hang on a little bit longer.”

Medication and therapy have not failed me yet.

Working/Not Working

Work has been nearly impossible the way I feel. I can do one call, then need 2 hours off to regroup. The calls are easy, mostly with regulars, but the energy expenditure exhausts me. Even writing this post has taken 4 days so far. Ugh. I need to be able to work!

Okay, I need to get this out to you all. It is not a cry for help, I promise. I will not hurt myself, have no plans to. It’s just those random thoughts that flow through my mind… sometimes like heavy cinder blocks and others like wafting vapors. As long as they continue moving on the conveyor belt, I think I’m okay and headed towards healing.

trudging along

Thanks for listening

depress help — Always reaching for help.

Bipolar Diary: Incremental Shift

Loving Nudge

After my Bipolar Diary: Depression Deepens post, I had several people tell me to call my psychiatrist immediately. I thought I could white knuckle it for another week, but others saw what I couldn’t. I trust those closest to me and picked up the phone, getting pushed into a non-existent spot in his schedule the next day. Wednesday, August 2, 2017.

Office Visit

The crying had been keeping me from functioning and did not abate while in his office.

I told him about the suicidal ideation increasing… then added the obligatory, “But I have no plans to hurt myself, am not stockpiling meds and promise to call 911 if I do find myself getting too close.” He replied, “I understand how frightening they (the thoughts) can be, even when you aren’t consciously creating them.” I breathed a sigh of relief that he seemed to understand.

I’ve had at least 8 different psychiatrists in 30 years and this one is one of the top 2. He listens to me, takes my preferences seriously like refusing the Risperdal increase and is infinitely patient with my continued distress.

I really am so blessed to have such a kind (and gifted) doctor. I know that is rare and how privileged I am to be able to receive quality medical and psychiatric care.

I OWE MY AWESOME CARE TO THE ACA/OBAMACARE INSURANCE I HAVE.

I would not be alive without it.

Medication Change… Again

I continued crying while he pondered, looking at his computer, typing some, then thinking again.

He found a medication I had not tried before… Latuda… which I’ve since read is used specifically for bipolar depression. Yes, yes… it does come with a laundry list of side effects, but I’m ignoring them, listening to my body instead.

I know it takes at least 2 weeks (in my body) to 6 weeks to feel the full effect of psych meds, but when I got home from the appointment, I took my first pill. Then the next morning, I took the second. (It is taken once a day.)

Whether placebo or really working that fast, I did not cry until late evening the next day. I didn’t cry the next night, either. And the ideation has slowed, the thoughts feeling more “transparent,” fewer hard imaginings. The images had been like mosquito bites, begging to be scratched. (Not sure I explained that clearly… I’m having a terrible time writing this, pardon spelling and grammar errors, please.)

August 6, 2017

I’m feeling better still. The doc told me that if I was feeling too sedated, to drop the Risperdal, which I did on day 3 after starting the Latuda. I’ve been on Risperdal since 1995, so it is a major thought process to not take it before bed. I do feel less sedated (I described it like someone spiked my drink), but there’s a lot more room for not dropping into a slumber at any given moment.

Let me get this out so those who are following along know how I am doing. Thanks for you care and attention, my dear friends. Thank you for your love.

Pedophiles Collectively Exhale

People seem baffled at how the GOP can still support pedophile Roy Moore in Alabama. I am not.

Pedophiles Unite

I talk to guys who, I am sure, have child porn on their computers. I mean… I know they do. The pedophile community is tight knit and it takes a lot of vetting before you are finally admitted to the grossest club on earth.

That we elected a sexual assailant for president emboldened already brazen men everywhere. Women being mistreated, in public as well as private, over and over as the guys held up the president’s example of (im)proper behavior towards women.

One set of pigs let loose on the farm.

And now we have even more vile animals, cesspool dwellers, silently cheering that, see? their “vice” isn’t that bad. Even the GOP is backing pedophile Moore! Even the president (which isn’t saying much at all). Pedophiles might not come out publicly that they masturbate to (the stolen life of a) child pornography, but I am sure pedophile Moore is getting a slew of anonymous thank you’s.

The Blind Eye is Theirs

Pedophile Moore continues denying what he did because he simply does not see his predatory behavior as anything bad and worthy of admitting to. He honestly feels he did nothing wrong. Being banned from the mall, having to be watched at football games so he stayed away from the cheerleaders, even his thinking he was asking permission to “date” a woman’s daughter… he believes these are all normal behaviors. And they are! FOR HIM!

If a pedophile and child molester had to admit their behavior, their entire world view that includes the realities of justifications and permissions and, “Well, I’m not that bad,” (yes, even pedophilia has gradations) would come toppling down and I believe, in many instances, might even kill them with their own shame. (I hope they choke on it a long time before dying.)

The Moral Bar Falls Into Hell…

… and the GOP has lowered it. That they care more about their “agenda” than tending to a vile, sick, perverted child molester speaks volumes about their morals.

They have none.

All of us poor children who have been sexually abused… all of the children being sexually abused by pedophile Roy Moore’s everywhere, even as I write this… we are all watching.

We are all watching.

And to you boys and girls being hurt, abused and are heartbroken, know there are so many of us out here who believe you and are here for you when you need us.

You are not alone.

Nuts & Bolts of Calling a Doctor’s Office

This subject seems to come up a lot, so I thought I would do a Tutorial on how to get in touch with a person and not a machine when you’re calling a doctor’s office.

My first and probably most important piece of information is:

CALL EARLY IN THE MORNING!

I cannot stress this enough. Even if you have to wait on hold for awhile. I tend to call about 9:45am. By then the logjam has passed and the way is pretty clear.

Calling in the morning gives the doctor the entire day to get your chart, prescribe meds or answer your questions. Lunch time is the usual time they read your message, so if you call in the afternoon, unless you are in the ER, you will be waiting until the next day for an answer.

If you are really in a crisis (psych, serious fever or infection), I would call back right after lunch. Be your nicest self! NO yelling about “Why hasn’t she called me back yet?!?” crap. Just kindly say, “I need help. I am so ill. Can I come in tomorrow morning? Or might I talk to the nurse or doctor this afternoon?”

“I need help” is a wonderful way of garnering sympathy for your situation.

A Practice with a Receptionist

If your doctor is in a practice with a receptionist, it’s easier to get a hold of the doc you’re needing because someone should always be available during the 9-5 workday.

You often will be triaged by a nurse before getting a message to the doctor. Still, the earlier you call, the earlier your voice will be heard.

Most offices close for lunch… either between 12pm and 1pm or between 1pm and 2pm. Calling then, you will get a machine. Leaving a message on a machine is like talking into an abyss. Call back when lunch is over.

Calling Mental Health Professionals

Therapists especially are meticulous with the timing of their appointments. They are 50 minutes long, beginning at the top of the hour, ending at 50 minutes after. I have great luck calling in that 10 minute window between clients. Some will listen to messages and call back during that time, but many pick up the phone, too.

Know what you are going to say. They have moments to figure out what you need before the next appointment starts. Write it down if you need to before you call. Be ready!

Psychiatrists’ schedules are a bit more wonky, so leaving a message might be necessary. Just as if you were talking to a person, have what you want to say ready. The more info you can leave in the shortest amount of time… being concise… helps everyone get their needs met.

Playing Dumb

When I really need to get through to someone (and you pick your battles here), I feign accidentally hitting the button that says “If you are a care provider and need to speak to someone now, press 1.” Use that sparingly, especially in the same practice. Really, judicious use, please.

Bypassing Automated Menus

If you’ve read this far, I get to teach you a trick I learned from another operator. Not specifically for doctor’s offices, but really helpful for banks, phone companies, cable companies, DMVs… any of the bazillion places that have phone trees you seem to be forever lost in.

Press 0 (zero) fast, over and over and over again. PressPressPressPressPress a dozen or more times. 8 out of 10 times, this gets me to a person.

Patient Portals

If you doctors’ office has a Patient Portal, sign up for it asap!

In the portal, you can email your provider, ask for refills, make appointments without calling and see your chart and most lab results.

Patient Portals are the best.

If I didn’t answer something, ask me about it!

The Tarnishing of Trump

I have this vision of the Oval Office having “FUCK FUCK SHIT FUCK”s bouncing off the walls like molecules pinging in boiling water.

It is not uncommon for that now-golden-hued room to hear expletives, but I’m betting that as the days unroll with the word “Russia” in each sentence, the “Shit, fuck, damn’s” have been accelerating and getting progressively louder. (And amusing side note: When searching “trump White House expletives,” the suggestions at the bottom of the page all had Bannon’s name in them. Hilarious… and expected.)

For 100 days, I cried and wrung my hands in terror that someone in the White House would accidentally (or on purpose) hit The Red Button and our world would be annihilated.

During those first 100 days, with every stroke of the president’s pen that removed women and children’s rights, that signed away our natural resources so the rich could get richer, that created enormous doses of xenophobia, Islamophobia, racism, ordering the confiscation and deportation of people struggling to stay alive and on and on and on… and with every bizarre cabinet appointment, my heart broke and despair settled in.

I was directed by my doctors to stop watching the news because all it did was submerge me deeper into depression. I was joined by millions of others who had the new PTSD diagnosis called President Trump Stress Disorder, our nation’s leader now holding the distinction of being the first president to have an anxiety disorder named after him.

Will Durst says in President Trump Stress Disorder (Baxter Bulletin):

An epidemic is sweeping the nation, causing sufferers to experience feelings of hopeless doom, certain annihilation and cataclysmic collapse. It’s an existential plague manifesting itself by enveloping the stricken in a black cloud of despairing suicidal thoughts. The malady that is striking down innocent citizens left and lefter is … the Presidency of Donald J. Trump. It is literally making people sick.

>100 Days

But now, with the variety of Russian headlines intertwined with you all in that Oval Office, I am glued to the TV, the real news, (what you call the “fake news,”) and I sit on the edge of my seat waiting for the next delicious morsel of information.

And I am no longer depressed.

It is no longer Opposite Day in America.

Instead of my being unable to sleep, now it is your turn to toss and turn all night, worrying about your futures. I, on the other hand, am finally able to sleep soundly.

And every morning since Day 100, I wake up smiling again.

My News Blackout

Today was a really difficult day.

So much crap in the news… you can look for yourself if you want to… but I have to quit watching and reading the news lest I end up in the Psych Hospital. I knew I was watching/reading a little bit more each day, but today I watched the clock, too, and stopped counting at 6 hours. Of news.

My hallucinations have gotten really bad, they are almost constant. And I have felt increasingly depressed. In fact, for a few days, I have wondered if I should take myself to the hospital because of the suicidal ideation that’s been flashing through my mind… way too often.

I know it is all a direct result of the pain of watching what is happening here in the United States, in the Americas, in the world.

I wish I could do something.

Right now, my something to do is save my own life.

I closed my Facebook tonight (it is always on my desktop), took everything political off my Tumblr page (including unsubbing from anything political) and am putting myself on a News Blackout.

Effective an hour ago.

Bipolar Diary: Zero Gravity Hallucinations

I’d thought I’d come to a place of balance. I was still having hallucinations, mostly visual, some auditory and tactile, but those not so often. Even though the hallucinations have continued, I told the Psychiatrist I did not want to take more Risperdal to try and make them go away. The short time I was on the increased amount (double what I am on now), I gained 30 (fucking) pounds in 6 weeks. As soon as we halved it, I stopped eating like an insatiable animal, and have now lost 10 of those 30 pounds. I told him I’d just suck up dealing with the hallucinations.

However, there does come a tipping point between what I can live with and seeing much of my room floating around as if I was in space.

pilbalance bw — Balance – dance troupe, Pilobolus

What’s Going On?

I cannot pinpoint why they are getting bigger, more bizarre and more aggressive. My sleep is weird, but I am sleeping. I’m in an inordinate amount of pain, but that isn’t too new… I had my gallbladder removed on February 2 and have had a series of infection complications since. I’ve got other pain, but can usually meditate to work through it. (I have Trazadone if I need help sleeping, but have only taken that a couple of time.)

Visual

A crazy hallucination I had the other day was seeing my pillow breathing. Yes, I know… ridiculous, but I stared at it as it inhaled and exhaled for the entire 5-minutes I watched. I blinked, shook my head, told myself there was no way in hell that was real, yet the pillow kept inflating and deflating, slowly, as if it was breathing. I glance over a lot to see if it’s going for a repeat performance. Nothing so far.

I have the usual roaches and now some flying bats, but those are pretty yawn-inspiring since they’ve been around so long now. It’s the floating toilet paper roll, the pens, my Blistex lip balm… things that are here in my room, in my real life, just appearing, mid-air… there… and then fleetingly gone again. My food shifts next to me. I “see” music coming out of the speaker. The movements around the room are near-constant. (The book next to me is shuffling the pages as I write this.)

I try to drive infrequently and only for less than a mile or two because it is frightening to not know if that box flying through the air is an illusion or really fell off that truck up there. I am terrified when I pass bus stops because people are so close to the edge, they slide over into the road sometimes, sliding back just as I get ready to veer away from hitting them. I do everything in my power to never drive during school drop-off or pick-up, the amount of busy-ness in the roads confuse me terribly. Don’t even get me started on mailboxes.

Tactile

I am tapped periodically. No one is here to tap me. It’s nothing. I feel things crawling on me a lot. My room is clean! There are no bugs to crawl on me. No fleas, no gnats. Nothing. Yet I could swear there was a spider crawling up my leg or on my arm. Even when I am looking right at my skin, seeing with my eyes that it isn’t there, it is there… I just cannot see it is all. (Talk about a mind fuck!)

Auditory

I have these the least at the moment. Just some occasional whispers. Nothing telling me to do anything, I don’t get those kinds. I just get ominous whispers, just out of hearing range… my name whispered a lot.

shiver

Resolution

Writing all that down, I see I really might need to just up the Risperdal to curb some of this extraneous activity in my brain. I am crying writing this, fearful of gaining more weight. (I gained 80 pounds in 3 months when I started the Risperdal 13 years ago.) I know there are other meds I can try, but I get Tardive Dyskinesia so easily… and have it already from the Wellbutrin… I am so wary of changing from meds I know work.

Fuck, this is confusing sometimes.

Thanks for listening.