Yep, that pretty much sums up my day. I'm feeling a lot better right now which is great. Since my ECT's I am able to cycle through my lows much quicker than before. Anyhow, I've been doing okay because I had cancelled most of my plans which means I did not have to leave the house. This morning though I had come to the realization that I absolutely MUST go shopping. Tomorrow is my daughter's 17th birthday and I had nothing for her. I was completely determined to go out and not come home until I had what I needed. A lot of times I get into a store, get overwhelmed and run out crying. NOT THIS TIME. I refused to do it. I MUST COMPLETE MY TASK.
Well, it sucked. I hated every second of it. But I did it.
It started out with diarrhea all morning. Around 11:30 my mother picked me up (great fucking idea) and I drove. I know if I had gone myself I would have come home and with my mother there I couldn't show any sign of depression or she would have driven me straight to the hospital. So first was Walmart. I was doing great until we hit the parking lot. I said, "tell me which aisle to go down" and of course she comes back with what part of the store we are shopping in so this is why we should park somewhere over... "I don't need reasons, just tell me what aisle to go down!". I'm not good at making decisions so I needed some guidance. As soon as I got out of the car I started mumbling "I hate this. I hate everyone. I don't want to be here."
Into the store... As soon as I walked in and saw all the people I started to get dizzy and adding "get the fuck out of my way" to my mumbles, but I wasn't stopping. It is physically impossible for me to walk as slow as my mother. I know what I need, I know where it is, I just want to get it, pay and get the fuck out of that place. I kept turning around and having to wait for my mom. UGH! I'm not sure if she could see the desperation on my face but she could tell that there was no browsing at this point, and I am proud of her for not saying anything and just moving along. That can't be easy for her of all people. Once we got in line to leave the cashier was chatting with the people in front of us. Are you fucking kidding me? Don't you see us here? Luckily another cashier opened right up and called us over to check out.
And out we go. The parking lot was a pisser but I made it through without a panic attack. Next stop... the mall. I know, I know. Bad idea. Well, I knew exactly what I wanted, where it was, where to park and I was ready. Kinda. We had to go in through JC Pennys and, again, as soon as I walked in I started getting dizzy and the mumbling started back up. I just hauled ass through the store and stood in a corner waiting for my mom. I did apologize for running ahead once she caught up.
Do I really need to explain this entire outing. I don't think so. You get the idea. It sucked. I hate leaving the house and being around people. I am never leaving the house without my hubbs ever again for the rest of my life. EVER!
So that was it. I came home and the family was gone up to the inlaws for birthday parties. Yeah, if you read my previous post you'll understand that I got out of it. hehehe I was pretty wound up for a while. Pacing, pulling my hair, racing thoughts, rocking - but no tears through the entire day. That is very strange. I finally calmed down enough to lay down and once I got up from my nap I felt much better. I wanted to blog about it before my nap but it would have been a slew of curse words and random thought about everything I hate.
So that's it. Nowhere to go and nothing to do. Exactly how it should be.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Bring It On... No, Wait... Don't
So just a quickie to let you know whats going on. The hubbs birthday is Friday and my daughters birthday is Monday so, of course my in-laws are having a party for them on Sunday. I don't understand. They know how I am yet every time they invite us up to their house (which is about an hour and a half away) they invite the entire family. Yay! A crowd of people that don't talk to me because I'm fucking nutts. When the plans were made I was coming with every excuse in the book why we shouldn't go. Nope. Didn't work. I'm really starting the feel the anxiety of having to leave the house. Saturday afternoon the diarrhea and vomiting should set in. Today I've started rocking myself. Scratching. Pulling hair. No crying yet, though. That's good.
I'm really not looking forward to this but how can I miss a birthday party for my daughter. "I love you sweetie, but not enough to go to Nana's house". They get shitty presents up there anyways. Last time my daughter got a package of underwear so big that I could have tucked my bottom lip into them if I wore them. "Wow, Thanks! This is just what I needed *cough* *cough* stupid bitch *cough* *cough*."
Well, here it goes. I'm strapping myself into the roller coaster.
:(:
I'm really not looking forward to this but how can I miss a birthday party for my daughter. "I love you sweetie, but not enough to go to Nana's house". They get shitty presents up there anyways. Last time my daughter got a package of underwear so big that I could have tucked my bottom lip into them if I wore them. "Wow, Thanks! This is just what I needed *cough* *cough* stupid bitch *cough* *cough*."
Well, here it goes. I'm strapping myself into the roller coaster.
:(:
A little Sanity
One thing I (sometimes) enjoy doing is painting. When I say sometimes I mean that I will go a few days painting pictures and then I'll stop for a while. I'm not that good at it, but when I'm painting I don't have anything else on my mind. It is the only thing I've ever found that allows me to forget what is going on in my life. I don't get the racing and obsessive thoughts. Anyhow, I just thought I would share some of my favorite ones with you. And maybe it will get me in the mood to paint again...
:):
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
An Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor Away
Well son of a bitch. Why didn't I think of that before? Does an appletini count? How about apple pie. I guess I better stock up.
So I thought I would share with you this am some of the things I've done to treat my Bipolar Disorder. Keep in mind that my memory sucks so I may miss some stuff.
PSYCHIATRIST- I hate doctors. There, I said it. I have this uncanny ability to come up with reasons why I can not go to each one, although now I am realizing that I am running out of doctors in the area. Let's see... They've been mean to me. They were douche bags. They "released" me from their care because I was "all better". They are too far away. I hated the office staff (that's a big one!). OK, you are dealing with people on the verge of... whatever they're on the verge of, and you hire assholes for the office? What the fuck are you thinking? Get back on track... more reasons... I was sleeping. Oh, and my favorite, "I'm not feeling suicidal today so I don't need to go".
Anyhow, here is a list of the meds I've been on (in no particular order). Not sure if it is a complete list:
Wellbutrin
Cymbalta
Lexapro
Serzone
Zoloft
Effexor
Trazodone
Clonazepam
Depakote
Diazepam
Geodon
Depakote
Diazepam
Geodon
Klonopin
Lamictal
Lamictal
Effexor
Lithium
Lithium
Trileptal
Lorazepam
Ativan
Lorazepam
Ativan
Right now my daily meds are 150mg Effexor, 150mg Wellbutrin, 600mg Trileptal, and 100mg Trazodone.
One time I broke down to my doctor, screaming and crying that I wanted to die, bla bla bla and she said, "If you tell me that I will have to admit you. You don't want that, do you?" "No" "OK, we'll up you meds. Come back in a month". Never went back.
PSYCHOLOGIST/THERAPIST - Never really fond of them, either. Just a bunch of talking. I can talk to myself and save the copay. Journaling used to make me more upset because I would go back and read what I wrote the day before and that shit is depressing! Exercising. Breathing exercises. I don't want to help myself, just fix me! Then we get back to the fact that if I don't feel suicidal I tell them I'm doing much better. I gotta quit doing that.
GROUP MEETINGS - Who really wants to sit in a room with a bunch of freakin psychopaths and talk about feelings? I don't. Truthfully, to me it felt more like a competition to see who is worse off. I actually heard someone say to someone else "You've never been inpatient? What are you doing here then?"
INPATIENT - That actually is not that bad. There are not any decisions to make like what to eat, when to eat, when to take meds, if I should go to the "groups". You are told what to do and when to do it and that seems comforting to me. And if you think about it, it's kinda fun to watch people worse off than you freakin out. "Man, what a fucking nut case he is!"
ECT - Electroconvulsive therapy. There's a lot of people against this one. When I was in the loony bin last time, we decided to go this route. After I was discharged I went through 9 rounds of it. You go into the hospital in the am and then you are admitted to a room. They eventually bring you into the post-surgical recovery room (with about 10 patients in there recovering) for the procedure. They goop up your temples and attach the thingy to your head. You get the anesthesia and next thing you know you are waking up and being wheeled back to your room. They monitor you for a little while then you get discharged from the hospital. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Most people have to go in for "maintenance" which is apparently what I need but because of all the controversy about the ECT's I'm not sure if that is going to happen.
For the 1st month or so I was the happiest person alive. Nothing could piss me off or discourage me. LOVED IT! Hubbs and I were having sex every single day, usually twice a day. Unfortunately it wore off and now all I am left with is a terrible memory, huge gaps of unexplained time, inability to subtract (I've tried to relearn it but have given up) and problems with spelling and sounding out words. It's funny because the family was watching tv together and there was a commercial for a movie and I said, "Oh God, that looks great! We've got to see that!" Well, we already had, the week before. I had absolutely no memory of it. I watched the trailer of the movie on YouTube thinking it may jog the memory - but nothing.
Tell you what, though. That month was great! I would go through it all again to get another month like that.
Dang, this is going to be a long post.
GOD - Alright, I've been to churches, healing services, revivals, laying on of hands, anointed with oil and prayer, slain in the spirit, ancestral healing, forgiveness healing, and I'm sure there are other things I'm missing but that's all I've got for now. I always felt good during these but nothing ever seemed to "stick".
OK - I do believe in God and I do believe in miracles. I know of miracles that have happened in my family that could only have come from God. I also believe that there is more to it it than expecting that God is going to heal you and then BAM, you're healed. Not that it isn't possible, just that it doesn't usually happen that way. Some things are not meant to be. I believe that there is a reason for everything. There is a reason I am like this. I just don't know what it is yet. And I may never know.
You know what. I'm sick of typing. That's all I've really got for now. And I have things to do, like drinking coffee, taking a nap and ignoring everything around me.
:):
:):
Monday, October 4, 2010
The Golden Rule
The Golden Rule: One should treat others according to how one would like others to treat one's self.
Seriously, why is it so difficult for people to treat others with "mental issues" like they are a normal person. Am I THAT different? I'm realizing that going somewhere where noone knows that I am bipolar is a lot easier than where people do know.
My immediate family (hubbs and the kids) can usually tell by my face, posture and behavior how I am doing before I even speak. That's good. And they know exactly how to handle me. There is only one other person I can speak to when I'm in my pit and she knows how to handle me, too. I have no problem with them at all. Outside of them is a completely different story.
"How ARE you?" OK, I know you can't hear the tone I am typing with, but I'm sure you all know what I mean. When you are sick or hurt and someone is checking on you. God, I fucking hate that! Just come out and ask me "Are you a fucking loon today?" All the time! UGH! Now, this is mostly family I am talking about because I do not really socialize too often. But not all family. OK, I need to get this straight in my head.
Closest family (A): hubbs, kids, sis. Awesome. No prob there. Gotta add my bro here. I'm able to call him in my pit.
Next level of family (B): They love me. I know they love me. That's why they keep asking that stupid fucking question. These are also the people I have to "reassure" every day that I am okay or they are going to want me baker acted. Once they are reassured, things move on as normal. I don't tell them when I'm in my lows because it helps absolutely nothing.
Next (C): Much like B, but I don't see them or speak to them as often. After my ECT's when I was doing so well they treated me much differently. It was great. We had a blast. Now it's back to how it was before. They don't really speak to me because I guess they don't know what to say. Well you know what, fuck you. I'm the same person I was 11 years ago, same person I was after the ECT's... Just talk to me, and not about my God damn mood! Some of these I get the "just deal with it" feeling from.
(D): The rest of the bunch. These are other family member that I am not as close with (unfortunately) and only see occasionally. Maybe its because they are not as aware of my issues or maybe its because they don't want to be annoying bastards but they are good. They are not necessarily people I would call in the middle of a crisis, but I probably could. I just don't want to bother them. I don't mind bothering the people in A.
(E): Friends. I have 1 or 2 longtime friends that know pretty much everything. Then a couple that know I have issues but don't know the extent. Most of them don't realize I'm out of work because I'm unable to work. It's not that I don't want them to know, but I don't really want to bother people. "Wanna hear how much my life sucks?" I have a hard enough time keeping friends as it is.
That's about it. Oh, here is my message to family members in C that I have always wanted to share with them but never had the balls:
Seriously, why is it so difficult for people to treat others with "mental issues" like they are a normal person. Am I THAT different? I'm realizing that going somewhere where noone knows that I am bipolar is a lot easier than where people do know.
My immediate family (hubbs and the kids) can usually tell by my face, posture and behavior how I am doing before I even speak. That's good. And they know exactly how to handle me. There is only one other person I can speak to when I'm in my pit and she knows how to handle me, too. I have no problem with them at all. Outside of them is a completely different story.
"How ARE you?" OK, I know you can't hear the tone I am typing with, but I'm sure you all know what I mean. When you are sick or hurt and someone is checking on you. God, I fucking hate that! Just come out and ask me "Are you a fucking loon today?" All the time! UGH! Now, this is mostly family I am talking about because I do not really socialize too often. But not all family. OK, I need to get this straight in my head.
Closest family (A): hubbs, kids, sis. Awesome. No prob there. Gotta add my bro here. I'm able to call him in my pit.
Next level of family (B): They love me. I know they love me. That's why they keep asking that stupid fucking question. These are also the people I have to "reassure" every day that I am okay or they are going to want me baker acted. Once they are reassured, things move on as normal. I don't tell them when I'm in my lows because it helps absolutely nothing.
Next (C): Much like B, but I don't see them or speak to them as often. After my ECT's when I was doing so well they treated me much differently. It was great. We had a blast. Now it's back to how it was before. They don't really speak to me because I guess they don't know what to say. Well you know what, fuck you. I'm the same person I was 11 years ago, same person I was after the ECT's... Just talk to me, and not about my God damn mood! Some of these I get the "just deal with it" feeling from.
(D): The rest of the bunch. These are other family member that I am not as close with (unfortunately) and only see occasionally. Maybe its because they are not as aware of my issues or maybe its because they don't want to be annoying bastards but they are good. They are not necessarily people I would call in the middle of a crisis, but I probably could. I just don't want to bother them. I don't mind bothering the people in A.
(E): Friends. I have 1 or 2 longtime friends that know pretty much everything. Then a couple that know I have issues but don't know the extent. Most of them don't realize I'm out of work because I'm unable to work. It's not that I don't want them to know, but I don't really want to bother people. "Wanna hear how much my life sucks?" I have a hard enough time keeping friends as it is.
That's about it. Oh, here is my message to family members in C that I have always wanted to share with them but never had the balls:
Adios, mother fucker.
My Mood Scale
So I have a few things I've been thinking about that I'd like to blog on but I am going to separate them into different posts. My first one is my mood scale. In an effort to keep track of my ups and downs I'm going to try to chart my mood each day. I have this thing about going to the doctors where they will ask how I am and I will always say "Good". Hey, I'm not suicidal at the moment so it's a good thing, right? So here is the scale I came up with:
10: Just lost the house in a hand of poker, pass the rum!
9: ?
8: ?
7: Functional in or out of the house, filter broken, unnecessary jokes, starting several projects w/o finishing them
6: ?
5: NORMAL – can leave the house and handle problems, this makes me very happy
4: Fairly functional around the house, will go out if needed (prefer to have hubby with me), happy, get dressed and shower
3: Borderline functional/weepy, easily overwhelmed
2: Weepy/crying, overwhelmed, tired, frustrated, rocking self
1: Screaming, crying, pulling hair out, punching self, etc
0: Suicidal, call 911
NOTES:
- Moving down in scale often brings anger.
- Not sure if 7 is correct. Could be 6 or 8. Do not get above 5 enough to be able to document.
- For the record, I've never been a 10.
- Sleepy for all levels.
Now I just need to try to stick with it. Wish me luck!
10: Just lost the house in a hand of poker, pass the rum!
9: ?
8: ?
7: Functional in or out of the house, filter broken, unnecessary jokes, starting several projects w/o finishing them
6: ?
5: NORMAL – can leave the house and handle problems, this makes me very happy
4: Fairly functional around the house, will go out if needed (prefer to have hubby with me), happy, get dressed and shower
3: Borderline functional/weepy, easily overwhelmed
2: Weepy/crying, overwhelmed, tired, frustrated, rocking self
1: Screaming, crying, pulling hair out, punching self, etc
0: Suicidal, call 911
NOTES:
- Moving down in scale often brings anger.
- Not sure if 7 is correct. Could be 6 or 8. Do not get above 5 enough to be able to document.
- For the record, I've never been a 10.
- Sleepy for all levels.
Now I just need to try to stick with it. Wish me luck!
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Funnies
So I feel like my entire blog is basically a bitch fest. Although yesterday thoroughly sucked, I thought I would post some funnies I've found on different sites on the internet. My mood yesterday was a low 2 but this am I'm feeling like a high 3! I'd like to keep it that way, at least for a day. Enjoy!
Writing a good suicide note is hard, especially if you don't know that person's handwriting.
At Lowes. Nothing makes me feel better than completing a project around the house. Now where do they keep the day laborers?
I have come to the conclusion that "Do Not Mix With Alcohol" is more of a suggestion.
According to TV ads, you're depression-free when you feel like bringing your husband a fruit platter.
I'm not sure whether I'm an optimist or a pessimist. The glass stays in the cupboard and I drink from the bottle.
This hooker doesn’t find dead hooker jokes near as funny as I do.
Is It Just Me Or Does Anybody Else Also Think That All Clowns Look Like Molesters?
If you can read this, thank a teacher. If you can see this, thank Al Gore. If you can hear this, thank the LSD.
On the bright side, at least we aren't the generation raised by fucked up teen moms.
OK, the bar is closing. Do I go home to my wife or my girlfriend?
So, I got blood taken today and when the doctor came back with the results, he said, "You aren't sick but you are currently drunk."
Next thing I know we're all standing in the kitchen, holding hands and thanking God for the beer.
I guess that is enough for now. Enjoy your day!
Writing a good suicide note is hard, especially if you don't know that person's handwriting.
At Lowes. Nothing makes me feel better than completing a project around the house. Now where do they keep the day laborers?
I have come to the conclusion that "Do Not Mix With Alcohol" is more of a suggestion.
According to TV ads, you're depression-free when you feel like bringing your husband a fruit platter.
I'm not sure whether I'm an optimist or a pessimist. The glass stays in the cupboard and I drink from the bottle.
This hooker doesn’t find dead hooker jokes near as funny as I do.
Is It Just Me Or Does Anybody Else Also Think That All Clowns Look Like Molesters?
If you can read this, thank a teacher. If you can see this, thank Al Gore. If you can hear this, thank the LSD.
On the bright side, at least we aren't the generation raised by fucked up teen moms.
OK, the bar is closing. Do I go home to my wife or my girlfriend?
So, I got blood taken today and when the doctor came back with the results, he said, "You aren't sick but you are currently drunk."
Next thing I know we're all standing in the kitchen, holding hands and thanking God for the beer.
I guess that is enough for now. Enjoy your day!
Friday, October 1, 2010
State of the Homefront
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A BITCHY POST. YOU MAY NOT WANT TO READ IT.
Things are pretty shitty right now. Not in my cranium - thats about a 3. No - $$$$! I'm running out of meds but we are not going to have the $ for them for about 3 weeks. Gotta do something about that. The only thing I can think of is selling myself on the corner. It's my only true skill. (OK, that was supposed to be funny). There is a hot guy down the road, maybe I could offer him a blow job? Truthfully, I'm not a big fan of BJ's. (I'm kinda stealing this:) If God were a city planner, would he put a restaurant next to a sewage dump? OK, got off track. Oh, our phone/TV/Internet is going to be shut off in the next couple of days so I'm telling you all this in case I don't update for a while. Problem is, hubbs next check is completely dedicated to the mortgage (2 months behind on that). If we lose our house, we have absolutely no where to go. Actually, I'll be in the looney bin, but hubbs and kids have no place to go. Can you spell F-U-C-K-E-D?
I hate being me! I need a fucking job! Who the fuck is going to hire someone that doesn't shower or change their clothes. Does not remember old or retain new information. Can't be around people. Can't do more than 1 thing at a time. bla bla bla
Come on, people. I am desperate to make money. Someone tell me what to do. Jesus, writing this post just moved my cranium down to a 2. Thank God I'm blogging, it really seems to help!
OK, the basic reason for this post is to let you know why I'm not here once my internet goes out. But it became a bitch fest. Feel free to ignore me, I try to.
:): Have a GREAT day!
Things are pretty shitty right now. Not in my cranium - thats about a 3. No - $$$$! I'm running out of meds but we are not going to have the $ for them for about 3 weeks. Gotta do something about that. The only thing I can think of is selling myself on the corner. It's my only true skill. (OK, that was supposed to be funny). There is a hot guy down the road, maybe I could offer him a blow job? Truthfully, I'm not a big fan of BJ's. (I'm kinda stealing this:) If God were a city planner, would he put a restaurant next to a sewage dump? OK, got off track. Oh, our phone/TV/Internet is going to be shut off in the next couple of days so I'm telling you all this in case I don't update for a while. Problem is, hubbs next check is completely dedicated to the mortgage (2 months behind on that). If we lose our house, we have absolutely no where to go. Actually, I'll be in the looney bin, but hubbs and kids have no place to go. Can you spell F-U-C-K-E-D?
I hate being me! I need a fucking job! Who the fuck is going to hire someone that doesn't shower or change their clothes. Does not remember old or retain new information. Can't be around people. Can't do more than 1 thing at a time. bla bla bla
Come on, people. I am desperate to make money. Someone tell me what to do. Jesus, writing this post just moved my cranium down to a 2. Thank God I'm blogging, it really seems to help!
OK, the basic reason for this post is to let you know why I'm not here once my internet goes out. But it became a bitch fest. Feel free to ignore me, I try to.
:): Have a GREAT day!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Check it out!
National Depression Screening Day (NDSD) will be held on Thursday, October 7, 2010.
Here is a free online screening for yourself or your child:
http://www.helpyourselfhelpothers.org/
Here is a free online screening for yourself or your child:
http://www.helpyourselfhelpothers.org/
Don't Try Suicide
Suicide is not chosen; it happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain.
I've spent a lot of time over the past 10 or 11 years contemplating my death. I can't stand those people that say, "Suicide is selfish. Look at what it does to their loved ones." You, my friend, are clueless. Maybe the loved ones are selfish for expecting me to continue to endure this pain FOREVER. There is no end in sight. Being bounced around on medications that don't seem to provide any relief. Laying in my bathtub (fully clothed) screaming at the top of my lungs for SOMEONE (be it God, my hubbs, Joe Blow down the road) to take this pain away. "Make It Stop!" Pulling my hair out and banging my head against the wall. People around me (mainly my hubbs) crying because he doesn't know what to do to help me. Basically, the spiraling pit of doom is not a pleasant place to be. Oh, and an FYI - I haven't felt like this in months. I'm good now. But unfortunately those memories weren't lost with the ECT's.
I've had 2 people in my life during my "crazies" commit suicide and to tell you the truth I was heartbroken but I was also jealous. In my screwed up mind I thought they were brave. One was a coworker that hung himself and the other was my psychiatrist (yeah, I know) but I'm not sure how he did it.
I got off track there. Anyhow, contemplating suicide... I am probably the biggest wuss when it comes to pain that you will ever meet...? know...? It's a blog so more than likely you will never MEET or KNOW me. Um... You will ever hear about. OK - anyways. I'm a wuss. SO - slitting my wrists is not an option. I don't want to add to the pain I already have. Hanging. That just doesn't sound like fun. The only place I have at my home to hang myself is the tree outside and I just don't want to imagine my kids being the ones to find me. Imagine the damage that would cause! Bad enough their mom would be dead, but to find me is just not really an option. Gun shot. I don't own a gun and have never touched one. I've got no idea how they work, so do I say to a friend "Hey, you have a gun, right? You'll have to show me how to use it, but could I borrow it to commit suicide?" Haven't figured that one out. Drowning. Tried that one. Hubbs stopped me. Overdose. Now that's one I could do. In fact this last time I was admitted is because I had stock-piled over 100 klonipin and one thing led to another and - BUSTED! Um... OH! The one I would do. Sitting in a running car in the garage. I just don't have a garage. So I haven't quite figured that one out, either.
Where am I going with this post? I should say something witty at this point or something inspirational. I got nothing. This is a really depressing fucking blog. Is this going to help me in anyway. I don't know, maybe I'll just start blogging dirty jokes and stuff.
Ah... here's something:
I've spent a lot of time over the past 10 or 11 years contemplating my death. I can't stand those people that say, "Suicide is selfish. Look at what it does to their loved ones." You, my friend, are clueless. Maybe the loved ones are selfish for expecting me to continue to endure this pain FOREVER. There is no end in sight. Being bounced around on medications that don't seem to provide any relief. Laying in my bathtub (fully clothed) screaming at the top of my lungs for SOMEONE (be it God, my hubbs, Joe Blow down the road) to take this pain away. "Make It Stop!" Pulling my hair out and banging my head against the wall. People around me (mainly my hubbs) crying because he doesn't know what to do to help me. Basically, the spiraling pit of doom is not a pleasant place to be. Oh, and an FYI - I haven't felt like this in months. I'm good now. But unfortunately those memories weren't lost with the ECT's.
I've had 2 people in my life during my "crazies" commit suicide and to tell you the truth I was heartbroken but I was also jealous. In my screwed up mind I thought they were brave. One was a coworker that hung himself and the other was my psychiatrist (yeah, I know) but I'm not sure how he did it.
I got off track there. Anyhow, contemplating suicide... I am probably the biggest wuss when it comes to pain that you will ever meet...? know...? It's a blog so more than likely you will never MEET or KNOW me. Um... You will ever hear about. OK - anyways. I'm a wuss. SO - slitting my wrists is not an option. I don't want to add to the pain I already have. Hanging. That just doesn't sound like fun. The only place I have at my home to hang myself is the tree outside and I just don't want to imagine my kids being the ones to find me. Imagine the damage that would cause! Bad enough their mom would be dead, but to find me is just not really an option. Gun shot. I don't own a gun and have never touched one. I've got no idea how they work, so do I say to a friend "Hey, you have a gun, right? You'll have to show me how to use it, but could I borrow it to commit suicide?" Haven't figured that one out. Drowning. Tried that one. Hubbs stopped me. Overdose. Now that's one I could do. In fact this last time I was admitted is because I had stock-piled over 100 klonipin and one thing led to another and - BUSTED! Um... OH! The one I would do. Sitting in a running car in the garage. I just don't have a garage. So I haven't quite figured that one out, either.
Where am I going with this post? I should say something witty at this point or something inspirational. I got nothing. This is a really depressing fucking blog. Is this going to help me in anyway. I don't know, maybe I'll just start blogging dirty jokes and stuff.
Ah... here's something:
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Life Long Tickets to the Roller Coster
Word of advice: If someone ever says to you, "Hey, smell this!"... DON'T!
I guess I could talk (ahem, or type) a little bit about my mania. In the early years I did not know I was going through mania, but once I was diagnosed Bipolar I was able to see it.
There's nothing special. I don't hear voices. I don't get uncontrollable urges to spend money or go on vacations or anything like that. I used to go out dancing and drinking, going to male revues, laughing at everything, making (sometimes inappropriate) jokes. Laugh uncontrollably for absolutely no reason until I am in tears. I had to leave work twice because of that. I remember for my 30th birthday (about 6 years into bipolar hell), a bunch of friends from my good job threw me a bday party at a local restaurant/bar. I was getting free drinks from men all night because I was telling everyone it was my 21st bday. "What kind of drink is that? I've never had that before." "Well you gotta try it, here, I'll buy you one." "Wow, thanks!" When I wasn't hitting on guys for free drinks, I was on the dance floor (or table, but I was dragged down from there). Although I was the only one dancing, it didn't bother me at all. I walked up to some guy, told him it was my birthday and planted a big kiss on him. I know, it just sounds like a fun night of getting trashed, I wasn't that bad. I used to be able to hold my liquor and I was sharing my free drinks with the hubbs and my other friends so I didn't get that drunk.
Another time I was out with friends after a male revue. We were on the dance floor and some little freak came up to me and started hitting on me. So I said, "I'm with her" and kissed one of my friends. No drinking at all that night - I was driving.
Now-a-days I don't really go out. No friends to go out with. But I still get silly, tell dirty jokes, have "energy spurts" that I do absolutely nothing productive with, call my bestie, John, to make lunch plans then cancel on him because I'm usually in my pit by the time the plans come around. My family says, "Mom's filter is broken again!" during these times because I will most likely say something inappropriate in front of them. Nothing really bad, but for instance I may let the word "ass" slip in front of them. But the family loves it when I'm manic. Happy Fun Energetic Great Mood "You wanna go where? SURE!"
So see - nothing bad. I really enjoy it but for some reason my docs think I need mood stabilizers to keep me from getting manic. I tell them, "But I really like being manic". Doesn't work. Are there meds that keep you out of the lows but don't stop you from the highs? I have no idea.
Bring on the mania!
I guess I could talk (ahem, or type) a little bit about my mania. In the early years I did not know I was going through mania, but once I was diagnosed Bipolar I was able to see it.
There's nothing special. I don't hear voices. I don't get uncontrollable urges to spend money or go on vacations or anything like that. I used to go out dancing and drinking, going to male revues, laughing at everything, making (sometimes inappropriate) jokes. Laugh uncontrollably for absolutely no reason until I am in tears. I had to leave work twice because of that. I remember for my 30th birthday (about 6 years into bipolar hell), a bunch of friends from my good job threw me a bday party at a local restaurant/bar. I was getting free drinks from men all night because I was telling everyone it was my 21st bday. "What kind of drink is that? I've never had that before." "Well you gotta try it, here, I'll buy you one." "Wow, thanks!" When I wasn't hitting on guys for free drinks, I was on the dance floor (or table, but I was dragged down from there). Although I was the only one dancing, it didn't bother me at all. I walked up to some guy, told him it was my birthday and planted a big kiss on him. I know, it just sounds like a fun night of getting trashed, I wasn't that bad. I used to be able to hold my liquor and I was sharing my free drinks with the hubbs and my other friends so I didn't get that drunk.
Another time I was out with friends after a male revue. We were on the dance floor and some little freak came up to me and started hitting on me. So I said, "I'm with her" and kissed one of my friends. No drinking at all that night - I was driving.
Now-a-days I don't really go out. No friends to go out with. But I still get silly, tell dirty jokes, have "energy spurts" that I do absolutely nothing productive with, call my bestie, John, to make lunch plans then cancel on him because I'm usually in my pit by the time the plans come around. My family says, "Mom's filter is broken again!" during these times because I will most likely say something inappropriate in front of them. Nothing really bad, but for instance I may let the word "ass" slip in front of them. But the family loves it when I'm manic. Happy Fun Energetic Great Mood "You wanna go where? SURE!"
So see - nothing bad. I really enjoy it but for some reason my docs think I need mood stabilizers to keep me from getting manic. I tell them, "But I really like being manic". Doesn't work. Are there meds that keep you out of the lows but don't stop you from the highs? I have no idea.
Bring on the mania!
You're still here?
Seriously. Who would want to put up with my vast array of bullshit? My hubby, that's who. First, let me tell you some of my qualities:
I cry at the drop of the hat for no apparent reason.
I sleep a LOT. Have I mentioned how much I love sleeping?
I don't like to be around people so we don't have friends and when we have to go to a family function - forget it. That is miserable for everyone. My hubby and daughter end up babysitting me.
I don't clean, do dishes, sweep the floor, do laundry, dust... you get the idea.
I have issues with leaving the house at all. If I do have to leave the house (which is very seldom, thank God) I'll be done for the day.
I'm sure there is more, that is just a quick list off the top of my head. I know if it were me, I would have left my ass years ago. I've had my good moments, like during my mania. I'm a freakin blast when I'm manic - but I am usually in the dark pit of doom of bipolar lows.
I really shouldn't question it, though. I don't want to give him the idea or maybe he'll ask "Was that an option?"
My planned death, when I'm not suicidal, is for hubbs and I to be run over by a beer truck on our way to the liquor store. We, of course, will be in a drunken stupor. If for some reason it doesn't work like this and he goes before me, I'm sure I will be shuffled from family member to family member until everyone is sick of me and then placed in some sort of long term institution. I hope it's some young hottie giving me sponge baths.
So after 11 years of hell and I've been able to hold on to him. He is really great with me. Never complains or gets mad at me for my inabilities.
He's right where I want him.
I cry at the drop of the hat for no apparent reason.
I sleep a LOT. Have I mentioned how much I love sleeping?
I don't like to be around people so we don't have friends and when we have to go to a family function - forget it. That is miserable for everyone. My hubby and daughter end up babysitting me.
I don't clean, do dishes, sweep the floor, do laundry, dust... you get the idea.
I have issues with leaving the house at all. If I do have to leave the house (which is very seldom, thank God) I'll be done for the day.
I'm sure there is more, that is just a quick list off the top of my head. I know if it were me, I would have left my ass years ago. I've had my good moments, like during my mania. I'm a freakin blast when I'm manic - but I am usually in the dark pit of doom of bipolar lows.
I really shouldn't question it, though. I don't want to give him the idea or maybe he'll ask "Was that an option?"
My planned death, when I'm not suicidal, is for hubbs and I to be run over by a beer truck on our way to the liquor store. We, of course, will be in a drunken stupor. If for some reason it doesn't work like this and he goes before me, I'm sure I will be shuffled from family member to family member until everyone is sick of me and then placed in some sort of long term institution. I hope it's some young hottie giving me sponge baths.
So after 11 years of hell and I've been able to hold on to him. He is really great with me. Never complains or gets mad at me for my inabilities.
He's right where I want him.
A very good place to start
I guess I'll start at the beginning... I was a good kid but never got great grades. Never really got in trouble. Quiet. Shy. At least until I hit high school. Boy was that fun. Sex, drugs and rock-n-roll. With smoking and alcohol sprinkled on top. I dropped out my 2nd go at 9th grade and got my GED. When I was 17 I hooked up with a complete loser, whom I will lovingly refer to as Dickhead. He was an abusive bastard. I got pregnant and had a beautiful baby girl when I was 18. I grew up fast. I worked (unlike Dickhead) and supported all of us but after a few years it hit me. "What the fuck am I doing?" So, I dumped his lazy ass, moved in with my parents, went to college and worked up to 3 part-time jobs at a time until I graduated. College is where I met my hubby. We became instant best friends doing everything together. After a while we realize we were falling for each other. Next thing you know we're getting married, he is adopting my daughter, and we are having a baby boy. That was it. December 1999 was the last time I had my sanity.
It was originally diagnosed as postpartum depression with numerous diagnosises (is that right? Is "diagnosises" a word?) since then. When our son was a baby I was unable to care for him and never wanted the hubbs to leave my side. My family was very supportive by caring for the kids and what-not but it wasn't long until Larry had to leave his job because of my problems.
Wow. There is really a lot more to that. Maybe I'll talk about that one day.
After a year I was on meds and receiving therapy and we thought it would be a good idea for me to work. So I got a job. Then another one. Then another one. The last one lasted 3 or 4 years and I did okay at work. Had my moments but they were understanding. Home life sucked. I would come home crying and go to bed. Somewhere during those years I was finally diagnosed as Bipolar type 2, with my meds constantly changing since this all began.
Did I mention, I LOVE to sleep! It's my favorite activity. Ask my kids, they'll tell ya.
So I left a perfectly good job for another one making more $$. I completely flipped out there. I think at my "good" job, I felt safe. People knew what was wrong with me and took care of me. Plus, I am more comfortable with men and I was surrounded by them there. The job I flipped at was mostly all women. I knew it was not going to be a good fit, but I went anyways.
The men comment... No, I'm not sleeping with them. But I am a disgusting perv that likes to talk about my sexcapades with my hubbs, dirty jokes, football and I cuss like a sailor. (Actually I've dated a sailor that told me my mouth was worse than one.) I'm not into fashion, hair, shoes, makeup, purses, mani/pedi's. I own 3 pairs of shoes. My "working in the yard" flip flops, my "everyday" flip flops, and my "dressy" flip flops. I haven't put a pair of socks on in years, nor shoes that cover my toes. I just don't give a shit about that stuff and have no interest in a conversation that includes it. Don't get me wrong, I do have female friends, but I'm not especially close to any but maybe 1 or 2 of them. And for that matter I haven't seen them in years. I only have one friend that I try to see and talk to and that is John Dillinger. Besides my hubbs, he's my bestie.
Bla bla bla. Anyhow, I left that job and was unable to work for a while. Got another job and walked out on that one and haven't worked since. I've been Baker Acted a couple of times, have had several suicide attempts and just recently went through 9 rounds of Electro Convulsive Therapy.
And that is it in a nut shell. Here I am. I'm unable to work because I hate being near people, I have a short attention span (took me forever to type this - I keep getting side tracked), I have an awful memory because of the ECT's, I don't retain information, bla bla bla. Oh, and because I'm fucking crazy.
I didn't really get into any of my crazy "episodes"... Not really sure what is going to go into the blog. I'm sure I will at some point.
It was originally diagnosed as postpartum depression with numerous diagnosises (is that right? Is "diagnosises" a word?) since then. When our son was a baby I was unable to care for him and never wanted the hubbs to leave my side. My family was very supportive by caring for the kids and what-not but it wasn't long until Larry had to leave his job because of my problems.
Wow. There is really a lot more to that. Maybe I'll talk about that one day.
After a year I was on meds and receiving therapy and we thought it would be a good idea for me to work. So I got a job. Then another one. Then another one. The last one lasted 3 or 4 years and I did okay at work. Had my moments but they were understanding. Home life sucked. I would come home crying and go to bed. Somewhere during those years I was finally diagnosed as Bipolar type 2, with my meds constantly changing since this all began.
Did I mention, I LOVE to sleep! It's my favorite activity. Ask my kids, they'll tell ya.
So I left a perfectly good job for another one making more $$. I completely flipped out there. I think at my "good" job, I felt safe. People knew what was wrong with me and took care of me. Plus, I am more comfortable with men and I was surrounded by them there. The job I flipped at was mostly all women. I knew it was not going to be a good fit, but I went anyways.
The men comment... No, I'm not sleeping with them. But I am a disgusting perv that likes to talk about my sexcapades with my hubbs, dirty jokes, football and I cuss like a sailor. (Actually I've dated a sailor that told me my mouth was worse than one.) I'm not into fashion, hair, shoes, makeup, purses, mani/pedi's. I own 3 pairs of shoes. My "working in the yard" flip flops, my "everyday" flip flops, and my "dressy" flip flops. I haven't put a pair of socks on in years, nor shoes that cover my toes. I just don't give a shit about that stuff and have no interest in a conversation that includes it. Don't get me wrong, I do have female friends, but I'm not especially close to any but maybe 1 or 2 of them. And for that matter I haven't seen them in years. I only have one friend that I try to see and talk to and that is John Dillinger. Besides my hubbs, he's my bestie.
Bla bla bla. Anyhow, I left that job and was unable to work for a while. Got another job and walked out on that one and haven't worked since. I've been Baker Acted a couple of times, have had several suicide attempts and just recently went through 9 rounds of Electro Convulsive Therapy.
And that is it in a nut shell. Here I am. I'm unable to work because I hate being near people, I have a short attention span (took me forever to type this - I keep getting side tracked), I have an awful memory because of the ECT's, I don't retain information, bla bla bla. Oh, and because I'm fucking crazy.
I didn't really get into any of my crazy "episodes"... Not really sure what is going to go into the blog. I'm sure I will at some point.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Be nice, I'm new to this...
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