Tag Archives: bipolar

Ive found its either go or stop.

Either things are going on enough that I have a topic to write about, or its so dead I can’t find anything to write about. Can’t we have a nice middle? But then again, thats life. 100 mph or dead.

Im back to my old sleep schedule: nonexistant. Im up all hours, and I get up somewhere near lunch to dinner. Thank you risperidal for keeping it straight as long as you did. Unfortunately I cant afford your prices or the weight gain any longer. I didn’t realize it had quite spiraled back to that until I was at Burger King at 4pm and the manager was like “How is your lunch/dinner?” and I answered with “breakfast.” Yep, its baaaack. On the other hand, Im getting to listen to alot of music on pandora and Ive read more books this month than last year combined. (1-2 per couple days.)

Mentally for a long time, with 3 exceptions as of late, I just stay in a “mixed” state. They’re hard to medicate. They’re hard to live with, but I’m pretty used to them by now. Considering its February, my normal month of ruin, I’m just sitting here waiting for SOMETHING to change. Either a depression so deep I can’t function, or a high that kicks my ass. For once I’d be happy with the mixed state. This weather isn’t helping at all, of course.

Once upon a time I handled writing correctly, a beginning middle and end. Here’s the end.

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Grass isn’t greener, it may be dead.

For years I was so hopped up on (prescription) pills I was pretty much on auto pilot. I felt dead. I used to beg my doctor to fix me, make me feel SOMETHING. I was cutting alot just so I would feel ANYTHING. Now? MAKE IT STOP.

I cry at everything. EVERYTHING. Im irritable. Im impatient. I feel, alright. TOO MUCH.

Isn’t there some kinda middle? Where I can watch a commercial and not cry? That would be awesome.

Miscalculation on med change.

When I decided to get off 150 Zoloft and change my 50 Elavil to 100, apparently I didn’t realize that I’m losing meds in that change. I went from 50+150=200 to 100. And I realize that all meds are a different number and maybe 100 Elavil IS equal to 150 and 50…I have no idea, chemistry was something I never into. All I know is its been two days since I’ve had any zoloft and I’m on the edge of tears for no reason. Numerous times. I’m thinking horrible thoughts from my OCD. I’d probably benefit from a klonopin but I hate having to take them even though they’re prescribed for at least 1-3 times every day I only use them about 1 time a month.

I go back into the psychiatrist and I’ll ask him when I go in if they’re “equal” or even remotely close. Due to how I feel, I’m guessing probably not. Thats three weeks from now, so I guess if it escalates Ill have my answer ahead of time.

I just keep thinking about death and what happens after death and panic from thinking about death. I think about sickness and how I dont want to leave my house because Im scared of getting sick, while having cabin fever in a huge way because of all this goddamn snow. My husbands been taking the car and leaving me here alone. I’ve been in a house with dogs for all these snowy weeks, sometimes hes home sometimes hes not. Ive barely saw anyone in these few weeks, today I saw more people than all of the time combined. Everything is back to making me cry at the drop of a hat. Or for no reason at all.

Im bored without being bored. I have nothing to do. Some people make the comment about how theyd “love” to be on disability and “do nothing” all day. No. It sucks. It’s sucked for the last 12 years I’ve been on it. You see no one, you do nothing. We just recently cancelled cable because it was something we didnt really use, but then after we cancelled it I realized I did watch it more than I originally thought. I still have netflix and hulu plus, which keep me occupied, at least. We have the internet still. I stopped playing WoW to save money…and now I want to get it back, but we’re saving for a vacation this summer so I feel guilty. I have art projects, or video projects I could be doing but at the same time I’m too tired to do them. Nothing makes sense. I want to do something but then Im tired to do it. Anyway…

I’m Still Here

This song is very fitting to my life usually, but more so recently. I added this version because I took the time to make it almost 2 years ago. I was going to just put a lyric video, but I’m putting the lyrics after the video anyway. In case anyone don’t know the video, it’s from LOST.

I am a question to the world,
Not an answer to be heard
Or a moment that’s held in your arms.
And what do you think you’d ever say?
I won’t listen anyway…
You don’t know me,
And I’ll never be what you want me to be.

And what do you think you’d understand?
I’m a boy, no, I’m a man..
You can’t take me and throw me away.
And how can you learn what’s never shown?
Yeah, you stand here on your own.
They don’t know me ’cause I’m not here.

And I want a moment to be real,
Wanna touch things I don’t feel,
Wanna hold on and feel I belong.
And how can the world want me to change?
They’re the ones that stay the same.
They don’t know me,
‘Cause I’m not here.

And you see the things they never see
All you wanted, I could be
Now you know me, and I’m not afraid
And I wanna tell you who I am
Can you help me be a man?
They can’t break me
As long as I know who I am

And I want a moment to be real,
Wanna touch things I don’t feel,
Wanna hold on and feel I belong.
And how can the world want me to change?
They’re the ones that stay the same.
They can’t see me,
But I’m still here.

They can’t tell me who to be,
‘Cause I’m not what they see.
Yeah, the world is still sleepin’,
While I keep on dreamin’ for me.
And their words are just whispers
And lies that I’ll never believe.

And I want a moment to be real,
Wanna touch things I don’t feel,
Wanna hold on and feel I belong.
And how can they say I never change?
They’re the ones that stay the same.
I’m the one now,
‘Cause I’m still here.

I’m the one,
‘Cause I’m still here.

-Goo Goo Dolls “I’m Still Here”

Did this polar vortex blow depression in as well?

With the exception of a ten minute jaunt to BK last night, I have been in the house a week due to this weather. And I think I’m starting to go a little mad.

I’m an introvert in the most extreme way. Being alone is something that I actually like. I’m not good around people…never have been. Going out into public is sometimes a trying event. But something about being caged in this house is setting off all sorts of issues in me. I’m getting depressed, my OCD is going apeshit, anxiety is off the hook. I sit here day in day out with nothing but my animals because my husband has been working alot. My OCD is screaming at me this isn’t clean, that isn’t clean, GERMSGERMSGERMS but then I don’t have the energy to do anything about it. (and in reality, everything is clean, anyway.) Ive thought my house was being broke into for a few days now, when in reality its ice melting. (although that one night I really have no idea what was going on…)

I can’t up any of my pills. I’m maxed on zoloft. They won’t raise my elavil. (Being on two anti depressants is bad for bipolars coz it can make you go into mania if there are too many at once). And if I take any more risperdal, I’ll be so fat I’ll not be able to move. I’m on double-triple the dose I used to take, as it is. And the more I take, the more weight I gain. I’ve gained 50 lbs this year. And I feel like it needs to be raised sometimes, with the thoughts in my head, but I just cant bring myself to take anymore.

I hate that because I stay in mixed bipolar 1 that its so damn hard to medicate. Im up, Im down, all at the same time. How the hell you medicate that? You don’t. You just take pills and pray they dampen the shitty parts. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

I had pop for the first time in like three months yesterday. (Ive been giving it up, trying to lose weight…didn’t work this time so fuck it.) The large dose of caffiene kept me up an extra hour rehashing the last 15 years of my life, and all the fuck ups Ive had/done in that time. It was awesome. Dark room, unable to sleep, normally I cant remember anything, but suddenly, I remembered everything. And most of it, I didn’t want/need to remember.

And suddenly Im back to being emotional….how many pills can I take…I used to hate feeling numb, but I’m kinda tired of feeling.

Being chained to a pill dispenser

This summer I decided for the first time in 17 years I was going to not take pills. At all. Not even an anti depressant–the only thing Ive been on non stop for 17 years. It took about 1.5-2 months before not only was I depressed, I was in a depression psychosis. Since that little set back, I got put back on pills…more than I was taking before, and I’ve taken them faithfully every single day for over three months. And they worked. They worked well. Then they didn’t work so great anymore.

I was irritated easily. I was depressed. I didn’t want to do anything or go anywhere. So, against my psychiatrists better judgement, (he only likes to “up” one pill at a time, for obvious reasons, but I know what I’m doing, I’ve done it 17 years) he ups my Zoloft (now I think I’m at max theraputic dose) and doubles my risperdal. He only wanted to do the risperdal, but I reminded him about this summer and how fast I sink. And this is going to be one hell of a winter, I can already tell. In the meantime, I gain 8 lbs in two months, so my family doctor decides to put me (back) on topamax (on a tiny dose, 25. I was on over 400 a day before, and didn’t lose any weight.)

They also three months ago made me get on birth control to help tame my overreacting hormones and my nonreacting menses. So at that point, I’m on BC, levoxyl for hypothyroid, elavil for fibromyalgia (which is ALSO an antidepressant), zoloft for depression, risperdal for psychosis, topamax for weight loss. I come back to the doctor, and managed (after changing my diet, not drinking any pop, drinking tons of water, and being on this topamax) to gain 4 more lbs. So off of topamax, and back on metformin for insulin resistance.

I’m sitting here watching the clock, its about 45 mins until I take my pills for the day. I haven’t missed one dose since I’ve been back on the pills. But now, with doubled risperdal, and my body getting used to the upped zoloft (which shouldn’t make me tired) and the metformin, I’m SO damn tired. I used to only take .25, I’m up to 2. Hardly a maxed dose, but the most I’ve been on ever, plus all the other meds, plus even though I’m on max zoloft, and also elavil, I still am depressed, and still don’t want to do anything. At this point I’m beginning to wonder if I have ANY serotonin in my body AT ALL. I’ve been maxed out on zoloft and luvox both, until it wrecked my liver (or kidneys, I cant remember which organ luvox effects.)

I can’t really complain, I used to take 15 a day. Everytime something was off, they just would double everything I was on and hope it worked. All that happened was me being doped to the gills not having a damn clue about anything, nor can I remember 2000-2004. I have a vague rememberance of part of 2003. But regardless, I’ve been on a lot of pills since I was 17. I hate relying on them to be “normal”. Without them, I’d most likely end up staying in a mental facility. I feel really bad for people who take more than I do just to stay alive. I wonder how they feel. Are they grateful for the pills, or are they mad at them for being their lifesource?

I’m not real sure what the point of this post was when I started writing it. Probably to bitch and moan about having to be chained to a pill bottle to function. There’s alot of other things I’d like to write about, but until I can really sort my feelings out about the topics, I can’t really write about them. Holiday season sucks. Especially for mentally ill people. Especially for me.

July was a very, very bad month.

I was just reading backwards on this site, and July–I wonder how I lived through it. I want to put on the record what has happened between that mindset, and now.

Soon after the tirading posts about being worthless and a burden, I started “seeing” things. They weren’t “there” but I knew they were there. I saw them in my mind. My house was being overrun by these weird demon people. I spent nights up with insence trying to rid my house of these problems. I went to my psychiatrist, at this point, I had not been on ANY medication for almost 2 months. Since I have been diagnosed I have never, ever, not been on AT LEAST an antidepressant. The past 14 years, I have ALWAYS been medicated.

At the point, I literally stopped taking EVERYTHING for two months. When my mom or husband asked me if I took my medicine, I just kinda mumbled and nodded or changed the subject. I didn’t want to lie and say I took it, so when I was pressed, I would just say “I’ve missed a few doses, I’m going to be more careful”, and it would be dropped after more conversation.  I was tired of relying on pills to make me “normal”. Its degrading and I was so sick of it.

I went into a depression psychosis. I went into my doctor, and had an absolute melt down in the office. I was told I was going to have to have an in home visiting nurse to monitor me. I was going to have to go back on anti psychotics, and possible other pills that we would add gradually. I had never had a depressive episode in summer. Summer was the time for mania. For spending and speeding, and whatever else I could get my hands into. Maybe it was our lack of funds, my inability to spend or speed, that did it. There was alot of stress, building stress from a few years ago. It was coming to a head and I couldn’t deal anymore.

My hormones at that point were a complete disaster. I was tested (again, the first time at 23!) to see if I was going through menopause. I was not. I was put on pills to fix the issue, between hormone issues, and psychiatric issues, and stress issues, they really wanted me medicated. And I had not been any kind of medicated for 2 months.

Getting back in the swing of taking pills was easier, only due to the birth control that you have to take or it fucks up. That honestly (due to my fear of puking) is the only reason I have managed to take my pills, every day, since I was put back on them. (Last time I was on birth control, I missed one, in 2002, and doubled up, and spent the next day puking my guts out.) The demons are gone, (though every now and then I think they might check up on me) stress is somewhat lifted. I still feel like I’m being watched and there are people around me I can’t see, but I’ve always felt that way. Me and my husband chose to take care of some things in life that were really bothering us. Maybe one day I’ll talk about it. Today is not that day. Stress has gone down alot. We are getting along alot better. Life is looking up.

For a month, I had to go to my moms on Mondays, to avoid him on his day to go back to work. We would get in horrible arguments where he would (for the third/fourth time) mention divorce, during these days. I couldn’t handle the stress and pain this was causing so I would sleep at my moms on Mondays for about 4-6 weeks. With one tiny minor slip up, I have been able to return home on Mondays. We get along so much better its almost scary. We don’t fight alot any more. We’re even  more honest than we were before. I’m not as folded into myself. For a long time, I just wanted to be left alone. In every way possible. My depression had just bottomed out. I have never went into psychosis from depression. That was a huge wake up call to me. I knew I needed medication. I have stayed on it, and feel better. I just worry for the day my brain rationalizes that “Im better” and I dont need it anymore. God help me when that happens.

I Wanna Be Sedated

Its been about 18 hours. In case anyone was wondering, Im still in one piece. Some things were taken care of today so that was some stress off my plate. Got my 2 back broken tires replaced. (Well, one new one, one fixed one.) Got some groceries. My living rooms completely finished. Had some talks about the things bothering me. Took a nap. Im alot calmer now, finally.

Supposedly we were having a few people show up to help between tomorrow and Monday but well see how many show up. Im still beyond annoyed, and trust me, there are some things I’d love to go into, but I’m not. Due to low runs for the week after shut down we didnt even make 600 bucks this week, while bills are way more than that. Just like last week, where we made 500 for shut down while bills were almost 700. After we somehow catch up on this mess, things MIGHT start to ALMOST get better. Right now I just really want to sell this van thats just sitting here. We were going to keep it in case I got a job but I wont be getting a job so its just taking up the other driveway space and making it hard for me to see to back out. Plus I could take whatever I get from the sale and catch up for these two weeks. But Im not holding my breath–we attempted to sell it before and to no avail. Which ended up being a kinda good thing only because we used it in the move. But now, here it sits.

Due to the heat, no money, a blown out tire and a leaking tire, Ive been sitting at home and not leaving–at all. And its not even been that bad. Sure, I’d like to go out and do some photography or go somewhere or just go on a damn drive. But then its like, but do I REALLY wanna leave? Leaving is just so much work. Everything is too much work lately. Fuck, half the time getting out of bed its a toss up until I realize Im going to eat the cat sitting on me if I dont get up and get food at some point.

I cant remember having summer depression. Its always in winter. Its weird, but in a way, its almost safer. Mania comes with summer and with mania comes speeding tickets, and maxed charge cards, and weird stupid purchases no one understands, even me. This way with no energy, at least Im not being reckless in every way imaginable. Its odd, because Im so used to that mixed state, that not being in one is just odd. I “function” at mixed. Ive been fluctuating between mixed, mania, and depression for 14 years. Thats the whole reason why I am not a “functioning” bipolar. You can medically treat mania. Depression. Mixed states, not so much. Either your brain goes three hundred miles (mania) and your body refuses to move (depression), or your mind just shuts down (depression) and your body refuses to sleep, refuses to stop moving (mania). Usually I hover in the first kind of mixed. My brain never stops while I have no energy. Which then is weird because then you dont sleep, even though you have no energy. Your brain dont shut the hell up long enough to attempt to get sleep. Now, there is no mania in sight. Not even a slight hypomania. Body aint having it. Brain aint having it. Both just are “fuck it, we quit”. The only up I get is when my OCD starts to freak, and I get anxiety from that, which then I have some energy, just bad, misplaced energy.

I know part of its my fault. I know it. The sane part of me knows why I am this way, the unsane part doesnt give a fuck because its tired of drug dependancy. For 14 years, through all 30+ psychiatric medications, I have ALWAYS maintained at LEAST an anti depressant. I always have ran depressive/manic depressive. Through all the anti psychotics, anti seizure, anti manic, mood stablizer, buffers, anti anxiety, there has always at least been that ONE pill. Even when I went from 15 pills a day–still had that one. (along with my thyroid pill or any other pill I was on at the time.) But I just….get so tired of relying on pills to function. Of everytime Im in a bad mood or have a bad day someone quips “Did you take your pills today?” Because once you have that label, youre not longer a real human. Youre a diagnosis with a face. Take your pills, like a good girl! You’ll feel better! No. I’ll feel LESS like wanting to jump in front of a bus, Im less likely to punch you in your face, but no, I don’t “feel better.” I feel…not as shitty. Yay. Kill my body and my organs in side effects so I can feel “not as shitty”. I think its because between the lithium toxicity that destroyed my thyroid which then lead to cholestorol, diabetes, and PCOS, and then the sulfa drug allergy that caused a hospital stay for 4 days while they saw if I was going to bleed out due to platelets plummeting, I just am really damn weary of drugs. Yeah Ive been on these ones forever. So? Theyre just still slowly damaging everything.

Anyway, Ive noticed that I start on a topic which then jumps to another, to another to another, so Im just going to wrap this one up.

Tomorrow is college graduation

My last day of school was actually Feb 28, but they combine classes so the hall is cheaper. So, four months later, I’m “graduating”.

Its been 13 years since I did anything like that.

The last time I graduated I had been diagnosed with bipolar 1, OCD, and anxiety disorder for a little over a year. I remember the day of graduation, it was a warm day. Everyone was outside on the field, and I was having a massive panic attack in the cafeteria. The thought of being on that field, with people. That people were watching. That I was trapped on the field. That I would look like the crazy ass I was if I ended up running off of it in a panic.

They set me at the edge of a row, just in case my fight or flight kicked in and I ran like hell. But I made it through, amazingly. I don’t remember most of it…or hell…90% of it. But then again, year 2000-2004 are pretty much nonexistant in my memory. I was diagnosed in 1999, and was on a myriad of drugs for those years. I was taking upwards of 15 pills a day. Anti psychotics, mood stablizers, anti depressants, anti anxiety, anti seizure, you name it. And when something wasn’t working, just up the dose! I ended up spending alot of time doped to the gills, thus the memory issues. To this day, my short term memory is practically non existant. I can remember great from childhood to 1999. I remember 2005-2009 vaguely.

I get angry that I have practically no memory of a decade. The twenties are supposed to be a great time. Finding yourself. Making your mistakes. I made mistakes alright. I know I held some jobs, but I don’t remember when, or how long, or sometimes even WHERE.

I started this as a post about graduation and it turned into…this. That’s just how my brain works when I’m writing, I suppose.

But, the point I was getting at, is that I haven’t had to do anything in front of crowds for a long time. I’ve never had what you call, “stage fright”, I’ve sang in front of people my whole life. I was in plays. But somehow the thought of not doing SOMETHING and people staring at me is horrible. I recently lost what could have been a very awesome job because of it. I was taking pictures at Comerica Park for the Detroit Tigers. I was doing fine until it was time to walk the stands, that hold 45k. The place wasn’t remotely full, but no matter where you sit, everyone can see you. Which meant that everywhere I walked, people could see me. I hate people looking at me. Maybe its due to insecurity, I have no idea. But I stood frozen for an hour at the top of the stands until I ended up a crying mess and I quit.

Here’s to hoping I get through it in one piece.

2-20-13 Music Memories

Oh no, not those pleasant ones! Those wouldn’t be worth writing about, now would they?

I’m not exactly sure, but I’m pretty sure Pandora radio is trying to get me to drive into oncoming traffic. (Yes, I’ve blogged about this before, it’s an on going occurance.)

I pretty much can’t remember from year 2000-2004. As in, I don’t remember shit from it but like 45 minutes. I vaguely remember 2005-2008. So, roughly like 8 years of my life are AWOL. And half of those are extremely AWOL.

Yet amazingly, I still remember music from those years. And when songs come on, so do the memories I’d have otherwise forgotten about.

Case in point, my new PINK channel seems to like to play two things: extremely christian music (yeah, I was shocked too), and Alanis Morrisette. I pertain most of Alanis’s songs to my teen years. (Which I’ve started to somewhat remember. In case you’re keeping track, that would be approximately 1996-2000. I don’t want to remember that time. It was then that I was diagnosed mentally ill. It was that time when I managed to hurt every person who ever loved me, or that I loved. I lost friends. I did stupid shit. The only thing worse than a pseudo amnesia is one that decides to clear every once in awhile only to smack you in the face with things you don’t really want to remember.

I didn’t have a bad life. I really didn’t. We all have our issues and things that have happened to us. Overall, I think I made out above alot of people. I never was cheated on. I didn’t have alot of friends, but I had good friends. We were poor, but we had a nice place to live and made due with what we had. I had a mom.

Then I got sick, and fucked that shit all up.

Ruined relationships. Lost friends. Alienated my mother. Went through school in a daze (when I bothered to show up or not sneak out.) During that time, music was a constant.

So now, please Pandora, keep shoving my past in my face while I’m in a moving vehicle doing 80 on the expressway. I can handle it.