. . . is boring.
No really. Normal is boring. At least when you're used to the constant crisis of bipolar disorder, being normal/stable/in remission is very boring.
I'm at home this morning, sitting on my couch, wondering what to do with myself. I feel like I need to be constantly doing something, constantly active/entertained/whatever. I don't know how to act or what to say or what to do. This is all very weird, people.
Everyone tells me that this is okay. Normal is good and okay. Boring is good and okay. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss the heightened awareness that comes with mania or the deep emotion that comes with depression. Or if I said that part of me doesn't thrive on the chaos. . .
Stability is better though. Better for everyone. I can do so much more stable. I don't lose friends when I'm stable. Maybe I can get back to full time work . . .
Stability is good. Normal is good. This is okay, guys. I'll get used to it again.
Who am I trying to convince? You? Or me?
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Some Stuff and Things
This week was kind of a busy week, what with seeing my therapist and my psychiatrist.
Therapy was good - difficult - but good. M thinks I'm making great progress and is proud of me for my revelation I finally had (more on that later). He's seeing definite positive change in me and thinks I'm doing the best I have been in the past 4 years he's been seeing me. Go me!
My appointment with my psychiatrist, Dr. M, was funny. Yes, funny. He had previously started me on Latuda and stopped my Seroquel, and he asked how it was going. I told him about my seroquel withdrawals (insomnia, rebound depression, hallucinations and delusions), but that they finally seem to be winding down (thank God). He asked how the Latuda was working for me. "Well, truthfully, I couldn't tell you if it's doing anything for the depression or if my starting to feel better is mainly the bilateral ECT. What I CAN tell you is that it's made it physically impossible for me to orgasm and has killed my libido." Dr. M threw his arms up in the air. "FANTASTIC! That's exactly what I hoped would happen! SUCCESS!" We both start laughing (me rather hysterically). "I'm joking, of course", he assured me. So he cut the dose in half, hoping to get some mood stabilizing effects while lessening the sexual side effects. Which is good because my poor husband. I could never have sex again and be fine with it. And I can't really give blow jobs because I have lock jaw/TMJ really bad and it fucking hurts.
So anyway, about my revelations. The other day (3-5 days ago, I don't remember) I had a day where I just felt kinda meh. I was just going about my day, running errands, whatever when it dawned on me - hey, this is probably how normal people feel. See, I wasn't experiencing extreme emotion, no anxiety, no delusions. I was having an average, normal day. And I realized, this is it. This is what I've been striving for. My mind isn't racing, I'm not rapid cycling, I'm not depressed/down/melancholy, I don't want to die, I'm not manic/hypomanic . . . This is it people!!! And the realization made me happy.
I told my hubby about it and he was all yeah - you expect life to be all smiling and giggling and super happy fun and all "la la la, look at me, weeeeeeeeeee, this is amazing!" (he's skipping and dancing around at this point). But he's right. I guess I've always expected that for me, being stable would be like being mildly, euphorically, hypomanic, which is just not realistic (sadly). And I FINALLY fucking realized it. It's only taken me for-fucking-ever (I'm 37 y'all).
That's what my therapist M was proud of - I finally realized this (he's only been drilling it into my head for 4 years, but whatever. I'm a slow learner I guess).
Another thing I've come to realize about bipolar disorder: I can be "stable" and "normal" and feeling "good/okay" and I might still have to struggle on any given day. Like yesterday at work. It was a good day. Busy (delivered 7 babies), but good. But I found myself having to escape, having to get away from the nurses station, because I couldn't deal with the noise/talking/people. I had to go hide in a quiet area with no one around for awhile. Walk aimlessly around the unit to decompress. And I realized something else: it's okay if I have to do that. I'm managing my mood. I have a mood disorder that can choose to rear its ugly head at any moment and if I have tactics to effectively manage my mood, well, that's good and that's okay and go me for being able to do that. That doesn't mean I like it. I mean FUCK - I'm supposed to be getting stable now, right? Why the fuck should I still struggle?? But sadly, that's part of the disorder and I'm going to be doing this for the rest of my life. I might as well accept it and come up with strategies to manage it.
Anyway, that's all I got right now. Hope all is well with you.
Therapy was good - difficult - but good. M thinks I'm making great progress and is proud of me for my revelation I finally had (more on that later). He's seeing definite positive change in me and thinks I'm doing the best I have been in the past 4 years he's been seeing me. Go me!
My appointment with my psychiatrist, Dr. M, was funny. Yes, funny. He had previously started me on Latuda and stopped my Seroquel, and he asked how it was going. I told him about my seroquel withdrawals (insomnia, rebound depression, hallucinations and delusions), but that they finally seem to be winding down (thank God). He asked how the Latuda was working for me. "Well, truthfully, I couldn't tell you if it's doing anything for the depression or if my starting to feel better is mainly the bilateral ECT. What I CAN tell you is that it's made it physically impossible for me to orgasm and has killed my libido." Dr. M threw his arms up in the air. "FANTASTIC! That's exactly what I hoped would happen! SUCCESS!" We both start laughing (me rather hysterically). "I'm joking, of course", he assured me. So he cut the dose in half, hoping to get some mood stabilizing effects while lessening the sexual side effects. Which is good because my poor husband. I could never have sex again and be fine with it. And I can't really give blow jobs because I have lock jaw/TMJ really bad and it fucking hurts.
So anyway, about my revelations. The other day (3-5 days ago, I don't remember) I had a day where I just felt kinda meh. I was just going about my day, running errands, whatever when it dawned on me - hey, this is probably how normal people feel. See, I wasn't experiencing extreme emotion, no anxiety, no delusions. I was having an average, normal day. And I realized, this is it. This is what I've been striving for. My mind isn't racing, I'm not rapid cycling, I'm not depressed/down/melancholy, I don't want to die, I'm not manic/hypomanic . . . This is it people!!! And the realization made me happy.
I told my hubby about it and he was all yeah - you expect life to be all smiling and giggling and super happy fun and all "la la la, look at me, weeeeeeeeeee, this is amazing!" (he's skipping and dancing around at this point). But he's right. I guess I've always expected that for me, being stable would be like being mildly, euphorically, hypomanic, which is just not realistic (sadly). And I FINALLY fucking realized it. It's only taken me for-fucking-ever (I'm 37 y'all).
That's what my therapist M was proud of - I finally realized this (he's only been drilling it into my head for 4 years, but whatever. I'm a slow learner I guess).
Another thing I've come to realize about bipolar disorder: I can be "stable" and "normal" and feeling "good/okay" and I might still have to struggle on any given day. Like yesterday at work. It was a good day. Busy (delivered 7 babies), but good. But I found myself having to escape, having to get away from the nurses station, because I couldn't deal with the noise/talking/people. I had to go hide in a quiet area with no one around for awhile. Walk aimlessly around the unit to decompress. And I realized something else: it's okay if I have to do that. I'm managing my mood. I have a mood disorder that can choose to rear its ugly head at any moment and if I have tactics to effectively manage my mood, well, that's good and that's okay and go me for being able to do that. That doesn't mean I like it. I mean FUCK - I'm supposed to be getting stable now, right? Why the fuck should I still struggle?? But sadly, that's part of the disorder and I'm going to be doing this for the rest of my life. I might as well accept it and come up with strategies to manage it.
Anyway, that's all I got right now. Hope all is well with you.
Saturday, January 2, 2016
I Guess I Had a Win
You'll notice that it's I "guess" I had a win. As in, "I'm not really sure if it should be construed as a win or not". As in, "well, I didn't completely lose my shit and that's really as good as it gets anymore".
I worked yesterday (I'm a nurse, remember) and I was steady all day. I was also working with a couple girls who I like well enough, but who can be very draining and annoying at times. And I certainly wasn't feeling on the ball yesterday morning. It felt like it was going to be a rough day. So I started the day doing what I force myself to do: interact with people. Yep. When all I want to do is hide and withdraw, I force myself to interact. I interject myself into conversations. I initiate conversations. I do the opposite of what I want to do. That kind of shit is supposed to help with depression.
Or so I'm told.
So I talked. With everyone. I forced myself to joke. I forced (and I mean forced) myself to laugh. I didn't isolate, I didn't withdraw. And here's the thing: I felt flat and withdrawn ALL. DAY. All day. Even in the middle of a conversation, in the middle of "laughing", I felt flat and withdrawn and fake. Which is frustrating, but that's depression for you. I could have had spiders all over me and I would have been like "oh. Spiders. Uh, get off, I guess?"
But I tried. I was able to have conversations, do my job, and not break down. I didn't even have to go off and hide yesterday (I've often found myself needing to go away to a quiet, private location to hide/decompress for a bit while at work). My therapist, M, would call this a win. He would call this effective mood management. And I guess it is, in a way. I didn't go off and hide, I didn't break down or lose my shit, I did my job, interacted with people, and appeared to be a normal, functioning adult.
I just didn't feel how I would like to (I don't want to feel flat and withdrawn - I want to feel normal and happy and myself). But I guess I'll get there, right? Eventually? Please tell me I'll get there.
I worked yesterday (I'm a nurse, remember) and I was steady all day. I was also working with a couple girls who I like well enough, but who can be very draining and annoying at times. And I certainly wasn't feeling on the ball yesterday morning. It felt like it was going to be a rough day. So I started the day doing what I force myself to do: interact with people. Yep. When all I want to do is hide and withdraw, I force myself to interact. I interject myself into conversations. I initiate conversations. I do the opposite of what I want to do. That kind of shit is supposed to help with depression.
Or so I'm told.
So I talked. With everyone. I forced myself to joke. I forced (and I mean forced) myself to laugh. I didn't isolate, I didn't withdraw. And here's the thing: I felt flat and withdrawn ALL. DAY. All day. Even in the middle of a conversation, in the middle of "laughing", I felt flat and withdrawn and fake. Which is frustrating, but that's depression for you. I could have had spiders all over me and I would have been like "oh. Spiders. Uh, get off, I guess?"
But I tried. I was able to have conversations, do my job, and not break down. I didn't even have to go off and hide yesterday (I've often found myself needing to go away to a quiet, private location to hide/decompress for a bit while at work). My therapist, M, would call this a win. He would call this effective mood management. And I guess it is, in a way. I didn't go off and hide, I didn't break down or lose my shit, I did my job, interacted with people, and appeared to be a normal, functioning adult.
I just didn't feel how I would like to (I don't want to feel flat and withdrawn - I want to feel normal and happy and myself). But I guess I'll get there, right? Eventually? Please tell me I'll get there.
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