Wednesday 12/23/20 Christmas is Coming

 Christmas is coming. In two days. It certainly doesn't feel like Christmas this year. But let's be honest - it's been a fucked up year. With Covid, the election, riots . . . it's truly been a fucked up year. One that I am very glad is over soon. 

I don't often get in the Christmas spirit - it's not my holiday - but this year is especially bad. We didn't put up our tree, there's no decorations up anywhere in the house, and I'm not even sure we've finished all of our shopping - and yes, Christmas is in 2 days! It all seems very unreal. Maybe even surreal. I don't even know.

For once, in like the past five years, I actually have Christmas off. I work Christmas eve, but have the actual day off. And we can't do anything because of Covid. There will be no visiting of family, no Christmas brunch at my mom's house, no going to Brighton to see hubs' family. There will be ridiculously early church service and that's about it. Which sucks. And I didn't realize how much it sucks until writing this out. 

But Christmas will come and go, we'll move on, and pray that things will soon return to "normal". And by "normal" I mean a pre-covid state. But who knows when that will happen.

In an attempt to being cheerful I painted this festive little crow:

He's very cute in his festive hat. I like him.

In other news, my sister-in-law may have covid and my brother rather abruptly quit his job. Neither of these things are good. Apparently my brother - who worked at a pawn shop - got in an altercation with some customers who refused to put on masks. He, I guess, got so pissed that he walked out. Quit. Right then and there. He's done this before, and really, it's not good. He won't talk to me about it at all. We hardly talk anymore anyway - he's become somewhat of a recluse. He has depression and anxiety and refuses to get help for it. Smokes pot all day every day instead. Which, if I'm being honest, infuriates me. He has such potential, he just fails to see it. 

Anyway, I should probably end on a positive note, right? Let's see . . . something positive . . . Um, well, my mood is still hanging in there. I'm still stable and relatively happy (I say relatively because I'm a little bummed out about Christmas and overwhelmed by everything). I'm working full time again and it's going well for me. The extra money, of course, is helpful as well. And I may have enough money saved up to get my tattoo! So yeah. Positivity. Boom.

Friday 12/18/20 Covid Vaccine and Stuff

 Well it's Friday again. Another week has gone by. And nothing terribly exciting has happened. I painted some bookmarks, a couple of paintings (which I'll share below), worked (it's been busy), and got the first dose of the Covid vaccine. 

Wait, what? The covid vaccine? Yep. I got the first dose of it Wednesday night after I got off work. I get my second dose January 7th (I hear the side effects of the second dose can be pretty bad). The side effects for this first dose weren't too bad: arm soreness where I got the shot, and some minor body aches, headache, and sore throat. That went away after several hours. I was nervous to get it. I mean, yeah there was a test sample of 40,000 people, but we don't know any long term side effects of this vaccine. A vaccine that was developed insanely rapidly. But talking with fellow nurses helped calm my fears and I decided that if I can do something to protect myself - that will ultimately help protect my family - then I need to do it. So I got the vaccine. Hopefully I won't get some weird cancer in 2 years or something. 

Working full time is so far working well for me. And the extra money of course is nice. We were busy this past week and I didn't have to float to another unit which is always stellar. I work again tomorrow but I'm primary nursery, so no floating for me tomorrow either. I enjoy not floating. 

I seriously don't know what else to write about. Writing comes so naturally when I'm feeling like shit. But when I'm well, I'm at a loss for words. It kind of sucks because I enjoy writing but my life is pretty freaking boring. I don't really go anywhere other than work and grocery shopping - thanks covid. We're not going on any adventures or anything. It's too cold to go on walks or hiking. So yeah. Boring. Nothing going on. 

But, without further adieu, here's my two paintings I did:

A judgmental pigeon

He's judging you. Harshly.

And a mountain bluebird

Well there you have it. Another week in the boring life of me. Yay.

Friday 12/11/20 Thoughts and Hummingbirds

 It's been a busy week at work. I'm working full time again (three 12-hour shifts a week) and I don't think my body is quite used to it. Especially considering how busy it was. I floated to another unit on Monday - 6th floor rehab. And I worked my ass off. I was helping hands, meaning I was helping get people up, emptying foleys, passing out trays, picking up trays, changing beds, doing vital signs, and answering call lights. It's a different kind of busy than I'm used to. When I work on mom/baby I'm taking care of healthy, capable moms and their babies - not people that can't get to the toilet without 2-3 people helping them. Makes me appreciate my job so much more. But it was a good day. 

And then Wednesday I was in nursery and we did 12 deliveries - 7 of them in 2 hours. It was crazy and nonstop. Yesterday I was nursery again and thankfully it wasn't as busy - only 5 deliveries and they spaced out nicely. 

And through it all my mood has remained good! Which is amazing! I've felt like I've been coming down with something though. I've had a headache for 2 weeks, a cough, some sneezing, fatigue, and sinus pressure. I was exposed to Covid on Thanksgiving and I know some people think I have a mild case of it. I don't know. I hope not. Hubby and son haven't gotten sick and I've been around them daily without a mask so . . . 

I've been getting some custom orders. I just finished an order for 7 hummingbird bookmarks:

I'm going to need to start raising my prices. I charged $3 each for these and they were more work than $21. But the person is my sister's hubby's aunt, so I gave them a break. But from now on prices are going up. 

Anyway, that's it. Things are pretty boring here. Nothing really new or exciting. 
 

Thursday 12/3/20 Doc appt and a Christmas Fox

 Let's just get down to it.

I had an appointment yesterday with a urologist for urodynamic testing because I'm having trouble peeing (probably TMI, you're welcome). So yeah, especially at night, sometimes it takes several minutes of sitting on the toilet before I can actually go. Which is freaking annoying, to say the least. So I saw a urologist and she recommended this test. Urodynamic testing, in case you don't know, consists of putting a catheter in the urethra and in the rectum (along with several electrodes) to measure muscle contractility and some other stuff (like strength of your stream, how much you pee after your bladder is filled, etc). Let me tell you, it's uncomfortable. 

So they insert the catheters and begin filling my bladder with water. They fill it until I feel like I can't absolutely hold it for any longer and have to pee. Then they have you pee around the catheter. Which is actually kind of difficult to do because 1. you're peeing around a catheter, 2. you're not peeing into an actual toilet, and 3. because I have trouble peeing. So I wasn't able to pee much and what I did go I had to force out. But, thankfully, the urologist was able to get the info she needed from the test. And what did we find out? My bladder muscle is weak and isn't contracting like it should, making it difficult for me to pee and to empty my bladder. Fantastic. And she had a theory as to why this is happening - my Wellbutrin. 

I was started on Wellbutrin last June or July and started having trouble peeing in August. Apparently, antidepressants can cause the bladder muscle to weaken and not contract. So I have four options: 1. try going off my Wellbutrin and see if this helps, 2. go on another medication that could help me pee (only works in about 50% of people), 3. straight cath myself instead of actually peeing (um, NO), or 4. have surgery to implant a stimulator that forces my bladder to contract so I can pee. I'm choosing to try going off my Wellbutrin and see if that helps. I see my psychiatrist on the 14th and I'll talk to him about it then. To be honest, I'm scared to death to go off the Wellbutrin because I've been doing so well and I don't want to backslide mood wise. But I also don't want to go on another medication - especially if it only works in 50% of people - and I certainly don't want to cath myself or have surgery. I probably couldn't even have the surgery if I wanted it because of covid. 

So yeah. I'm going to try going off of Wellbutrin, as scary as that is. And I'll pray that I don't backslide and that it actually helps with being able to pee. Ugh. My body and brain hate me. 

In other news, I painted a fox with a santa hat and people really liked it. Enough so that I painted 3 more of the same picture because people were wanting it and I don't have a print shop as of right now. 

The original painting is the one in the upper left. The other three are my copycats. Pretty darn good, yeah? So I need to find a print shop so that I can make prints of my popular paintings, and I need to start charging more for the originals. Because I can't keep doing this. It's just dumb. 

Oh yeah - and at work now it's mandatory for us to float to other units to help out. We've never had to float before and it's a little nerve wracking. I haven't done med/surg nursing in 13 years. As of right now we're only supposed to be "helping hands" - meaning we're not supposed to take an assignment. But that could all change depending on how high the covid numbers get. I'm not looking forward to this, but I'm also not letting it ruin my mood. It is what it is, even if it's scary. 

Saturday 11/28/20

 Sooooo . . . here we are again. Meeting on my blog. That I think only my hubby reads. Which is okay. I'm writing for myself - not for the masses. 

This past week has been, in all honesty, pretty boring. I've worked, I've painted. That's about it. It was Thanksgiving this past Thursday. A weird thanksgiving, amidst a pandemic. I worked, of course. But it was a slow day (only delivered one baby), and I was there with my bestie Lesley. A food truck came to the hospital, serving up thanksgiving staples for the employees for free. So that was nice. I talked with my grandparents and my mom (who surprisingly hadn't been drinking yet), hung out with Lesley a bit, and did a whole lotta nothing. All in all it was a good day.

My mood, amazingly, has been holding steady. I've been good. I'm laughing, I'm talking more, interacting with coworkers more, and just feeling really good. I feel stable. I feel normal. I feel human. It's so wonderful and awesome and I'm so blessed that I finally feel this way, for a prolonged period of time (5 months now). I did have some dipity doos a couple of months ago, but overall I have felt fantastic. 

I am officially working full time again now. Three 12 hour shifts a week. I'm excited about it. How strange is that? To be excited about working more. But I am. I think because it solidifies the truth that I'm doing better. Really, genuinely, doing better. And, of course, the extra money will be nice. I need to save up for my tattoo you know!

And, I'm not sure I've written about this yet (I don't remember and I'm too lazy right now to go back and look), but I've been doing the RCIA classes at my hubby's church. What's RCIA you ask? Well, it's classes to become Catholic. Yep. I'm doing that. Something that I never thought I'd be doing. If everything goes according to plan, I'll be baptized the Saturday evening mass before Easter Sunday (I was never baptized by my parents). It's kind of surreal to think about. And scary. And exciting. I'm having a sort of spiritual awakening, something I never thought would happen. I've been praying more - I don't have a routine down though. I don't even think I'm praying "correctly" (whatever that is). But I'm praying. And it feels good. It feels right. I can't believe I'm even typing this out - it's so foreign to me. But, that's where I am. 

So anyway, that's about it for now. I hope you all are doing well (points at hubby). 

Thursday 11/19/20 Therapy

 Well y'all, today I had my last "real" therapy session. What do I mean by "real"? I mean, my last regularly scheduled therapy session. Meaning, I'm no longer going to therapy. Which is crazy, and a little bit scary.

See, I've been going to therapy almost weekly for 8 years (sometimes I would go bi-weekly or monthly, but a lot of the time was weekly). Eight years people! That's a lot of therapy! And now, well, now I'm stable and have been for quite some time. My therapist and I had gone over my traumas years ago so there's not really anything I need to work on. In fact, todays session was a lot of BSing and laughing. 

But it is going to be weird not actually going. And of course, if I need a "tune up" all I have to do is call or text and set up an appointment. So yeah. I'm moving on. 

I've still been painting a lot - and have sold most of what I've painted. Which is convenient so that I don't have paintings lying around everywhere. And I need to save up money for my next tattoo. 

Here's what I painted today:

Well, one of the paintings I did today. I also painted a cardinal. Which I sold. But this is an artistic magpie! Isn't he cute? I love him.  I think he will be hanging on my wall soon. 

So anyway, I really want to give a shoutout to my therapist, Mike, for being awesome as hell and putting up with my crazy ass for 8 years. He's truly amazing.  

Friday 11/13/20 Friday the 13th

 Welp. It's Friday the 13th. In 2020. I'm bracing myself for some fucked up shit to happen. But hopefully it won't. This year has been awful enough already. 

Sooooo, guess what? I'm going back to full time! That's right! Full time baby! I've been working only two 12-hour shifts a week for the last 6 years (full time is three 12-hour shifts). And yeah - I'm finally going back to full time. Why, you ask? Well, because 1. I'm feeling good and stable and ready to tackle it, and 2. the extra money will be nice. It was actually a daunting decision to make, and one I'm still a little nervous about. But I think it will be good for me. And besides, I need to save up money for my next tattoo. 

Speaking of tattoos, I finally settled on what I want and where I want it. 

Here's what I will be getting:

Yes, I did paint that. I'm getting it on the back of my right forearm. I absolutely ADORE magpies (and other corvids as well), but magpies in particular because they are really quite beautiful. I'm hoping to have my tattoo done by January or February. We'll see. *fingers crossed*

There's another painting I did that came in a close second:

I just happen to like the first one a smidge more. I can't wait to have it done! It's been so long since I've gotten a tattoo (I'm not even sure how long - 6? 7 years?). I'm very overdue for one. 

In other news, I've been still feeling quite well. Upbeat, happy, and generally more relaxed and less cranky. Which is so freaking nice! 

Anyway, that's my little update. Here's to full time and a new tattoo!

Friday 11/6/20 Magpie Fun

 I'm tired. I worked three 12-hour shifts in a row. It's been years since I've done that. I normally don't even work two shifts in a row if I can help it - it takes a toll on me. But this week I did three. And today I'm tired. I'm trying my best not to nap but I may end up taking one anyway. We'll see. 

Overall I'm doing pretty darn good. Some little dippity dos here and there, but overall I'm stable and happy. Which is amazing, really. I've been feeling much better since the end of July (yes, I've had some drops, but I've come back up). It's pretty nice to be feeling this way. Hopefully it'll keep up.

In my last post I mentioned my next tattoo - two magpies. I've been sketching magpies and today I painted another:

I like him. This painting isn't for my tattoo necessarily. I just felt like painting him. Magpies are so gorgeous with their iridescent feathers. I love them. But what I need to be doing is painting stuff that I can sell so I can save up for my tattoo. I'm really itching to get it done. It's been a long time since I've gotten new ink. 

It's kind of weird . . . when I feel like crap all I want to do is write. And when I'm feeling good, I can't think of anything to say. Well, I guess that's all for now. 

Friday 10/30/20 I'm Cranky. Again.

 You read that right. I was cranky last Friday, and now I'm cranky again. It's rather annoying. I know what part of the reason is: I slept horribly last night. I woke up 4 times on my own and my dog woke me up another 2 times to go out. So yeah - not good sleep. And then Moya (my dog) wouldn't let me sleep in. She was in my face whining at 7:20. I was not pleased. 

But then the crankiness just sort of continued. Little things that shouldn't piss me off are pissing me off. The top of my yoga pants keeps rolling down, I have laundry to put away, dishes in the sink to do, my tooth still hurts, my skin is dry, I don't like my hair today, my socks sit too low on my ankle . . . and on top of it all I'm tired. 

Today is lame.

And I feel a little down and lost today. Not much - but a little. Which also annoys me because I don't want to feel like this. 

I did, however, paint something the other day that I'm pretty proud of:

This cutie elk with her magpie friend. I think it came out pretty damn good. 

Yesterday I painted another magpie, and today I did two magpie paintings (both of which are tattoo concept paintings). I've finally decided on my next tattoo! It'll be two magpies (in the nursery rhyme, it's two for joy). So I'm busy coming up with concepts. Now I just have to save up enough money to get it done. . . and convince hubby that I need it. I'm sure I can do that. 

Anyway, other than being cranky, things aren't too bad. And that's good. 

Friday 10/23/20 I'm Cranky

 You read that right. I'm a little ball of crankiness. Everything is annoying me. Even my annoyance of things is annoying me. How stupid is that? I'll tell you - it's pretty stupid. And there's no reason for it. I woke up like this. Granted, I didn't sleep well, but that's no excuse for this tornado of fury that I am. Oy. 

I've been doing some painting lately. Quite a bit, actually. And have sold some paintings. Which is nice. I need money to fuel my taxidermy habit. No, really.

Anyway, overall I've been doing okay. Some slips and dips, but they are seemingly short lived. It's been a long week though. I worked last Sunday and I don't work again until tomorrow. Five days off in a row with not much to do. So it's been a long week. I can only paint for so long. And I haven't wanted to read. I can't seem to focus long enough to do so. But overall, I'm okay.

Until today.

Today I had to wake up in raging bitch mode for some reason. I'm able to keep it under wraps at least. I mean, I'm not lashing out at hubs or son or anything. But I'm so angry at some times that I almost break down sobbing. I hope this passes soon.

In other news, I went back to the endodontist who did my root canal because my tooth still hurts (2 months after said root canal). His answer was, "lets just wait longer and see what happens." Like, 4 months longer. Seriously. He said that my body is basically being an asshole and fighting the root canal with a prolonged inflammatory response. Oh goody. Can't I just have some part of my body function normally?? So I'm waiting another 4 months and then I go back and see him. If my tooth still hurts, we pull it. That's some bullshit right there. But, what can I do. Take ibuprofen, chew on my right side, and hope it gets better I guess. 

Not much else going on. I always seem to be tired. I always want to nap. I don't know if it's from poor sleeping, depression symptoms, or both. I want to nap right now. I would if I could. 

Let's close with a picture though. That sounds nice, doesn't it?

 My motivational raccoon. He's cute. I like him. 

Thursday 10/15/20 Stuff and Stuff

 Welp, it's been a week since my last post and I'm happy to say I'm not struggling as much. I'm still feeling down, disinterested and withdrawn, but it's not as prominent? That's not the word I'm looking for. It's not as all encompassing. Or as bad, I should say. I guess. 

I haven't been sleeping all that well. I'm up about every hour - and not even because I have to pee! No, my brain is just being an asshole and waking me up. So I've felt pretty damn exhausted the past few days. I mean, if I'm not going to sleep, can I at least have some hypomania to go with it? Is that too much to ask? Apparently it is. Oh well. 

I've been painting a little more. Here's a couple of foxes I did:

 

Aren't they cute? The coffee one looks a little wonky to me. Like, he didn't look as wonky when he was just inked. But when I added watercolor he got wonky. That's okay though - I still love him. 

Here's a shout out to myself: both of these paintings (and others) are available in my Etsy shop!

I might as well toot my own horn, right?

Anyway, there's not really much of anything going on. My tooth I had a root canal in is still hurting after a month and a half so that sucks. I go back to the endodontist next Tuesday to have it looked at (my dentist doesn't know what to do about it). He said maybe steroid injections at the base of the tooth to stop inflammation while it heals. Boy doesn't that sound fun . . . or not. One of the two. 

So for now I guess I just keep plugging along, trying to sleep, and trying not to let my lower mood get to me. What more can I do?

Thursday 10/8/20 Therapy and art

Two postings in one week? Holy cow! What's up with that?

I'll tell you. I had therapy today. It's been 8 weeks since my last appointment, which is quite a long time. The longest I've gone between sessions. Which is kinda weird. It shows that I've been doing better, even though I feel like I'm slipping. 

Speaking of slipping, M and I talked about that quite a bit today. And how I'm too hard on myself (I feel like a failure for having bad days and I do tend to beat myself up over it). The thing is, we don't really have an action plan. Nothing new at least. I'm to just keep plugging along, powering through, using all of my skills and tools that I've learned to fight back. Which in and of itself is kind of depressing. Because I'm using all of my skills and still back sliding a bit. I even started tearing up a bit while talking. Because it just seems so hopeless and pointless that I get to do this for the rest of my life. 

And unfair. 

But life isn't fair, is it? No, it isn't. And that sucks. 

I'm trying my best to stay positive. I've been painting upbeat, motivational things. Like this little guy:

  My positive paintings have been a hit with friends, coworkers and strangers alike. I've sold quite a few different ones. And some days I feel it. I feel like I can do the thing. But other days . . . I'd rather just sleep to escape. Today is a bit of a sleep-to-escape day. But I'm going to try not to. I'm going to try to read and power through. 

This is not the start of a depressive episode. It's not. I will beat whatever little funk I am in and get back to feeling good. 

Tuesday 10/6/20 Double Ugh

 Hey there! How's everyone doing (all 2 of my readers)?

Let's just get down to it. I've been having a series of down days. Last week when I posted I had had three. Well, now I've had more than that. Like, pretty much every day. Ugh.

Now, they're not terrible days, and I wouldn't say I'm depressed, but I'm definitely down. I feel that black cloud looming. And I'm not okay with it. For 3 months I've been doing so well . . . and now, just . . . ugh. I have no motivation, no drive, no inspiration, no real desire to do anything. I'm forcing myself to draw and paint - because at least that's something. I want to read, but I can't focus. I've been napping. Which when I do it every day is never a good sign. 

I feel myself slipping into old thought patterns. I'm trying desperately not to. But I am none the less. I've been thinking I need to start re-watching the videos in the depression program I did. Maybe having it fresh in my mind would help. Because just reading my notes isn't really doing anything. And I have therapy this Thursday. It's been 8 weeks since my last session. Before, I felt like I didn't need it anymore - today? Yeah. I need it. Maybe I'll gain some insight. 

I feel like a failure. Hubs and I spent a lot of money for me to go through the depression program and now I'm slipping again. Back sliding. Was it truly a waste of money? A few weeks ago it didn't seem that way, but now . . . now I almost feel otherwise. It's like I'm doomed to keep getting depressed. I just can't seem to shake it off completely. 

I'm trying not to catastrophize what I'm feeling, but boy is it hard. I'm trying to stay positive and do all the tricks I learned in my program. I'm trying to keep busy. But it seems like it isn't quite enough. 

Wednesday 9/30/20 Ugh

 It's hard to believe that it's almost October. Like, tomorrow is October! How crazy is that?? This has by far been the fastest, slowest year ever. Yes, both fast and slow. 

I'm writing today because I've actually had a couple of crap days and I feel the need to purge. Monday was a day of rage. Anger way out of proportion to what was going on. And what was going on? Nothing. Nothing was going on. I was just pissed off at everything. 

Every. Little. Thing.

Everything made me mad. It probably would have been comical to anyone watching me, but for me it was pure hell. Nothing triggered it - I woke up pissed. I managed to not scream and throw things. Barely. 

Yesterday and Monday I spent the day scanning paintings into the computer. Fifteen paintings to put in my Etsy shop and 179 personal paintings. That's 194 paintings I scanned. It took forever. But it's done. So Monday I was a ball of rage, and yesterday I was blah. All I did was plug along, scanning paintings, not really feeling. Didn't go to the gym because I wasn't really feeling it. Didn't do anything except scan paintings. 

And that brings us to today. Where I am blah and unmotivated and uninspired and frustrated because of this. I'm not depressed - I want to make that clear. I don't even think that I'm necessarily down . . . I'm just . . . here. I don't even know how to describe it. I'm just existing today. I'm physically taking up space but that's it. I'm flat. Emotionless. There are heavy, exasperated sighs often. I don't want to do anything. I have drawings to paint, the kitchen to clean, dinner to get in the crock pot. And I stare off into space, sighing occasionally. 

And that's why I needed to write today. Because maybe if I get this off my chest I'll feel better and become more animated. Maybe I'll accomplish something. Because right now? I was overwhelmed with having to decide what to have for lunch. Because right now I want to lay down and sleep until tomorrow. And again - I don't feel depressed. Not how I normally feel when I'm depressed. I'm just . . . so  . . . I don't know. BLAH. Flat. Kind of checked out for the day. 

I'm trying not to let this get me down. Because it can. And in the past it would have. I would take this as a sign I was getting bad again and I'm not letting myself do that this time. Not this time brain. Everyone has blah, uninspired, unmotivated days. That's normal, right? (please say it's normal) And that's what I'm experiencing - a transient off day. I'll be better soon. 

Hopefully by tomorrow because I work. 

Saturday 9//26/20 Birthday Fun

 So. Nothing much has been going on since my last post. Life is rather . . . boring. Which I guess is a good thing. Because I'm stable and doing well. But it's also boring. Ugh. What to do, what to do.

My birthday was yesterday. I turned 42. It's kind of hard to think of myself as being 42 since I still feel like I'm in my late 20's/early 30's. That's probably good. Better than feeling old. Hubby and I went up to Estes Park yesterday (small mountain town that I love) and hung out, walked the shops and around the lake, had lunch, and some delicious iced chai pumpkin lattes. It was a lovely day. And we topped it off with Chic-Fil-A, which I do love. 

I've still been having anger days. Those haven't seemed to go away at all. Once or twice a week. It's not crazy anger, thank goodness, but it's there, and it's annoying. But I'm dealing with it just fine, so that's good. Or at least I think I'm dealing with it fine. Hubs might beg to differ. 

Next week I'm going to start scanning my artwork into the computer. I'm not looking forward to this. At all. It's a boring, tedious process that takes forever. But it must be done! And having my artwork in the computer means I can share it here! For all of the 2-3 people who read my blog to see! Haha! Yes!

So yeah. Life is pretty boring right now. But I have no depression so that's good. 

The End. 

For today at least.  

Monday 9/14/20 Doctor Day

 I saw my psychiatrist today. And I broke the news to him that I took myself off of lithium (and have been off of lithium for about 3 weeks now).  I was a little nervous as to what he would say (seeing how I didn't consult him on it). To my surprise he was okay with it. 

See, I've had side effects from the lithium for a long time. Years. Tremors in my hands and legs, swelling in my feet and ankles, insatiable thirst (which leads to me drinking a gallon of water a day and then peeing all the time), zero libido . . . And, quite honestly, I'm tired of it. Which is why, with the blessing of my hubby, I started weaning myself off 2 months ago. I went slow, going from 3 pills to 2, from 2 to 1, and then taking 1 every other day, to finally being off of it. And so far? I feel good. No ill effects. No hypomania. My tremors are almost gone. My swelling has gone down. My libido is coming back! 

I'm still on a mood stabilizer (Vraylar) and 2 antidepressants (Pristiq and Wellbutrin). Hopefully these will keep me stable. I think they will. Dr. M and I discussed what to look for that would warrant going back on lithium (mainly hypomania) and agreed for me to see him again in 3 months unless something pops up. I'm hoping nothing pops up. I like being stable. It's a nice place to be. 

In other news, I'm still having some anger here and there. Yesterday was an anger day. Not a horrible anger day, but the anger was there, bubbling below the surface. It was also an "off" day. A day where I felt a bit down and empty on top of the anger. To put it bluntly, I hated it. I know I'm not going to be sunshine and rainbows every day - that's not realistic for anyone - but I get a little anxious in spite of myself that these days are signalling a resurgence of my depression. It's hard for me not to think like that, even when I try desperately not to. 

I'm having these days about once a week, which in my opinion is too frequently. But then, I don't know how people who don't have mental illness feel, how often they have crappy days, or what they think of them. So I'm not a good judge. But I'm pushing myself through them, reminding myself how far I've come, and that I have all the tools I need to fight these days. And in the long run, I do okay. 

Although I'd still rather not have these days at all. Oh well. I'd like to talk to my therapist about it, but sadly, I don't see him until October 8th. Ugh. He texted me today and said he needed to cancel our appointment next week and reschedule. Of course the days he's available I work. So now it's not until the 8th. That's still 3 weeks away. It's already been 5 weeks since I last saw him. This is probably the longest I've gone between sessions in the last 8 years. How freaking crazy is that?? I'll answer for you - it's freaking crazy! But also a testament to how well I'm actually doing. So I guess I'll wear that as a badge of honor.  

Monday 9/7/20 Labor Day

 Anger. I haz it. Big time. Anger, annoyance, irritability, RAGE, frustration. It's all there. Taking over. Making me miserable. Making everyone around me miserable. I don't know what's up. But man has it been rough the past several days. 

I'm not sure what triggered this anger. It seemingly came out of nowhere. And it's quite evident. I'm not hiding it well. I'm taking things too personally, getting hurt at the slightest comment. It's stupid, honestly. And I hate it. I fucking hate it. Everything is setting me off it seems. 

Why?

I really have no bloody idea. I've tried doing a root cause analysis to no avail. Since it's so varied as to what sets me off . . . there's no pattern. There's no reason. I'm worried it's because I'm off of my lithium. I've been off of it for almost a full 3 weeks. Withdrawals? I don't know. It doesn't seem likely . . . but . . . there's always a chance I guess. 

What else . . . that time of the month? HA! That's rich. No, I haven't had hormonal mood swings since having my hysterectomy 11 years ago. So I wouldn't think that's it. Maybe a build up of everything going on? I'm talking about 2020. You know - covid, riots, lock down, a progressively more and more drunk mother (who annoys the ever living FUCK out of me), root canal, jaw pain, trouble peeing . . . (I haven't mentioned that last one before; I'm totally having trouble peeing - initiating a stream, emptying my bladder, etc, it's pretty awesome and by awesome I mean seriously what the fuck body can't you do anything right??). 

So yeah. That's where I'm at. Angry. Frustrated. And trying desperately not to be. But I'm really having trouble containing it. AND, just for fun, I keep getting these existential crisis moments where I question what the hell is the point of living and my mood drops. I've been somewhat okay at countering these moments but damn, really? Do I really need this too?

The answer is no. No I don't. But my stupid brain insists that this is necessary. If I could, I'd stab my brain with a fork. 

I really wish I had therapy sooner than the 24th. Ugh.

In other news, I cut my hair. Again. It's short, y'all. Like, too short I think. I'm not really digging it. Everyone keeps telling me how cute it is and that it suits me, blah blah blah, but I don't know. I'm really self conscious about it and I've only had it cut for 2 days. Hubby made jokes about me having the same hairstyle as him. Ha ha ha fuck you. Not funny when I'm kinda fragile right now. I know this is fueling my anger. Feeling crap about myself isn't good for anything. Except feeling like crap. Oh well, it'll grow I guess. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. 

Anyway, that's what's going on. Anger and existential crises and a bad haircut. WTF.    

Saturday 8/29/20 - Well Damn

 Only a few days since my last post. Kinda weird, eh? Yeah. I'm having an off day today. Very cranky, a little down, a lot frustrated. See, the past 2 months I've been feeling damn good. Happy and content and good. And today . . . I'm not. And it really is very frustrating. Now, I know my moods are going to fluctuate. I know this. But that doesn't mean I want them to. Why can't I just be rainbows and sunshine all the time? Why do I have to have off days?

When I have an off day I think my depression is coming back. That all the hard work I put into doing my program isn't working. And that scares me. And tends to compound my bad mood. I start a spiral. A downward spiral. And this is not a good thing. It brings me back to my old habits. Habits I'm trying to lose. 

I made myself take a break today. Instead of going out with my hubby and son I stayed home and took a nap. It was a short nap, but it was a nap. Then I went through all my notes from the program, really studied them and thought about them. And those two things helped. A bit. I'm better now than I was earlier today. I was seeing darkness earlier today and now I'm not. Or at least not as much. Which is why I felt the need to write. 

Ugh. I just want to be perpetually better. Where I don't have to think about it, where I don't have to try so damn hard. I know I'll get there . . . eventually.  I just wish I was there now. Oh well.

In other news, I saw the endodontist on Wednesday and had a root canal done. Delightful. Actually, the root canal itself isn't all that bad - he numbed me up good so that I didn't feel a thing. But now my tooth aches and I can't chew on my left side and if I accidentally clench down I get sharp zingers of pain. I still have to get my permanent crown place which will hopefully be done on Tuesday. Until then it's aches and zingers and chewing on my right side. It's really not that much fun.

Tuesday 8/25/20 Wow

 Wow you guys. It's been awhile since I last posted. I've noticed something - when I'm not depressed I have less of a tendency to write, both on my blog and in my personal mood journal. I write daily in my mood journal and I've noticed some days I'm forgetting, or I hardly write anything. I guess this is a good sign. 

I believe in my last post I wrote about decreasing my lithium dose. Well, by the end of the week I'll be completely off of lithium! My doc still doesn't know this, as I don't see him until September 14th. But I'm feeling better! The tremors are almost gone, the swelling in my ankles and feet is quite a bit less, and my libido is coming back! And no sign of hypomania! Definitely a win!

In other news, I cracked a tooth a couple of weeks ago. I have no idea how. It just started hurting. One of my back molars. Went to the dentist and yup. Cracked. I see the endodontist tomorrow and will probably be having a root canal done. So much fun! I know you're jealous! 

There's nothing much else going on. I'm just so grateful that I'm feeling better! My plan is to go back to full time by January, as long as I'm still doing well (I'm working part-time right now). The extra income would help so much. And I feel I'm up to the challenge!

Not much else going on. Oh! Ayden (my kid) started school yesterday (8th grade), all online thanks to stupid coronavirus. I'm hoping he's actually able to learn something. He was bummed that he doesn't get to go to school. He's all for in person learning. Oh well, what can you do. 

Sunday 8-9-20 Depression and Lithium

 Hello my little weirdos! How's it going this lovely Sunday? It's sunny here in Colorado, supposed to be around 95 degrees today (have I mentioned I'm ready for fall?). I don't like it ridiculously hot - 75 with a breeze is perfect. But we don't always get what we want, do we? That's okay though, this is better than snow.

So things have been pretty status quo with me. There's nothing terribly new to report . . . I'm still doing very well, still feeling stable and happy and positive. One thing has changed though: the longer I go with feeling good, the more a small part of me misses the depression. How fucked up is that?? I still have little dipity dos here and there, and when I do, part of me embraces them and tries to hold on. I hate this. I hate this so much. I understand why - I'm so used to being depressed that that's what makes the most sense to me. But understanding it doesn't mean I have to like it. 

I'm working to squelch this part of me. I don't want to be drawn to depression. At all. Ever. I'm using all the tools I learned doing my program. I'm recognizing this as a part of me and working to let it go. Because how awful would it be if I managed to self sabotage and get bad again. Nope. We're not doing that. 

In other news, in my last post I mentioned that I'm decreasing my Lithium dose. I've been on 900mg (instead of 1350mg) for about 3 weeks now (that's 3 pills down to 2). I've noticed my tremors aren't quite as bad, my ankle swelling isn't as bad, and I've had no mood changes. So, I'm going to be going down to one pill. I'll do it a little more gradually - every other day. So last night I took 2, tonight I'll take one, tomorrow 2, and so on. For one to two weeks and then I'll stay at one pill. My goal is to get off of the Lithium. I've been on it for 6 or 7 years and it would be nice to get rid of one medication. We'll see how it goes I guess. I'm sure Dr. M won't be pleased with me (he doesn't know I'm doing this). But I don't have to worry about that until September when I see him again. 

There's not too much else going on. Work is busy. We delivered 25 babies in 24 hours - a record for my hospital. It's pretty amazing, really. I'm trying to pick up extra shifts  to prepare me for hopefully going back to full time in January. 

I'm feeling uninspired art wise lately. I'm going to try and come up with some ideas this week. That's my goal. At least 2 ideas. And then execute them. Hopefully I can live up to that.

  

Friday 7/31/20 Well it's Friday

Hello weirdos! It's Friday! And the last day of July! Which I'm having a hard time believing it's August tomorrow. This year has been the fastest, yet the slowest year EVER. 

So . . . what's been going on? How have you all been?

I'm surprisingly still doing well. My good, stable mood is holding steady. Which is amazing and awesome and nice! I'm loving feeling like myself again. I'm going to give it 6 months, and if I'm still doing well, I'm going to try and go back to working full time. Wouldn't that be amazing?! I haven't been full time for 6 years! I'd love to be able to contribute more to our income. So that is my goal. I'm also tossing around the idea of volunteering at the therapeutic riding center again. We'll see.

There isn't anything else much going on. I'm still working on my mental and emotional mastery program (I'm actually almost done!). When I finish it, I'm going to go back through the whole program again, really solidify all of the information. I'm really enjoying this program and it has been beyond helpful!

In my last post I discussed how I went down on my Lithium by myself without consulting my doc. Well, no ill effects so far. I still have my tremor but it is slightly less. I may just go down by another pill (from 3, down to 2, down to 1). We'll see. Going off of it completely would be nice. But again, we'll see. 

That's about it. Nothing else fun or exciting going on. Take care, my little weirdos!

Thursday 7/23/20 Therapy and stuff

Hello my little weirdos! How is everyone doing today? I hope you all are doing well :)

It's been about a week and a half since I last wrote and not too much has changed. I'm still feeling pretty dang good. More than good some days (like today). I feel like myself again! Which is AMAZING! I attribute this partly to being on Wellbutrin and mostly Ty Hicks' Mental and Emotional Mastery program that I've been working. This program has opened my eyes to my own toxic habits and is helping me change them permanently. It's the bomb diggity! So yeah, feeling better.

Anyway, I had therapy today and I had a good session. M and I talked about a myriad of topics including my continued good mood, how work is going (great), and, of course, my mom. Ugh. I hate talking about her, but considering I continue to have issues with my relationship with her, I need to continue to talk about her (my mom is an alcoholic, btw, has been since before I was born). I did drop a bomb on M too - I decreased my lithium dose without consulting my psychiatrist. 

Yep. 

I decreased my own medication without talking to my doc first. Might be a stupid move, we'll find out. I've been on my lower dose for 9 days and I don't feel a difference (yet). Why did I do this? Because my tremor (a side effect of lithium) has been getting progressively worse. I didn't want to decrease my dose at the same time I was starting Wellbutrin as two med changes at the same time can be dangerous. And I didn't decrease by much. I usually take 3 tablets a day, I decreased it to 2 (the tablets are 450mg each). We'll see how this plays out. I see Dr. M in September. I'm guessing he won't be pleased. Oh well. 

That's about it. Not much this week. I'm thinking about posting some of my artwork here . . . we'll see.  

Monday 7/13/20 It's Hot in Here

Hello my little weirdos! It's been bloody HOT here in Colorado as of late and I'm not enjoying it. Seventy-five with a breeze? Yes, please and thank you! But 95?? Hell no! Thank goodness for central air! Otherwise I'd be one cranky bitch!

Anyway, I'm happy to report that this past week has been a good one. My mood has been stable with no depression (I'm still getting irritable but I'm able to manage it). I spoke with my psychiatrist last Wednesday and he was very pleasantly surprised (I don't think he thought I'd be any better). But here I am, plugging away with a positive mindset and happy demeanor! It's quite nice honestly.

Now, that being said, there is something weighing heavy on my heart. A coworker of mine - a young coworker of mine - recently lost her husband to cancer. M has only been gone around 2 months and I feel for J every day. She posted pictures of her family on FB today, and I felt so deeply moved and saddened that it was visceral. I ached for her and the pain she must be experiencing and I cried. I wish I could lessen the load for her. It's awful. Such a beautiful young couple. 

Her situation got me thinking about what would happen if I lost my husband. It's something I can't even comprehend. I don't know what I'd do or how I'd cope. I'd like to think I'd be strong and I'd carry on for my son's sake, but the truth is, I don't know if I could go on without him. He's my everything. I love him with every fiber of my being and just thinking about this is making me cry again. How does someone move on from that? Seriously.

Jer and I discussed this a little bit the other day. If he were to die tomorrow what would I do? Would I stay single? Would I eventually move on and date again? I don't think I could - I'd be comparing everyone to him and no one would measure up. Ever. On the other hand, I don't know if I could be alone. I crave the close companionship that only a partner can provide. But my partner. MY husband. Jer. Now.  We've been together for 20 years, he's my soulmate. 

I wish I wasn't thinking about this. Fuck. Tears streaming down my face as I write this out. I just can't imagine being without him. Well, now that it's out maybe I can put it to rest. Not worry over it and let it fester, consume me (like I usually do with stuff that bothers me). And hopefully I can support J without getting so emotionally caught up in it.  

Monday 7/6/20 Stuff and Things

Hello all my little weirdos (like, 2 people who actually read this blog)! How are you all doing?

I have officially been in my Mental and Emotional Mastery program for two weeks! I've gone through a lot of modules and have learned a lot of stuff. I've actually almost gotten through half of the material - which is supposed to take 2-3 months. So yeah . . . maybe I'm spending a little too much time on it. I'm going to slow my pace down and re-watch some of the beginning videos to make sure I really grasp the concepts. I spoke with Ty on the phone today (the mental health coach who created this program) to touch base on how I'm doing. Which is good. I'm doing good. 

Now last week when I wrote I was hypomanic. Well, my euphoria switched gears into irritability for a couple days, which sucked. I was able to mostly manage it though. Thank goodness. Dysphoric hypomania is not fun. So I'm not hypomanic anymore. Darn. 

I am, actually, doing well though. I'm not really feeling that depressed. Down at times, withdrawn, sometimes irritable . . . but not depressed. I've been able to change my negative thought patterns into more positive ones and actually sustain them. Which I haven't been able to do before (at least for a lasting period of time). I think my change in mood is three-fold: my enthusiasm for the program, actually working the program, and being on Wellbutrin. I think these have all contributed to the positive changes I'm seeing. I certainly have a more positive outlook, which is great.

Otherwise, there's not much new going on. I'm reading The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren and am enjoying it. It's a spiritual 40 day overhaul. You read a chapter a day for 40 days and the book helps you find purpose or meaning in your life. Today is day 16 for me. 

So yeah. I guess that's it.

Monday 6/29/20 Therapy

So I had therapy today and it was a blast. No really. It was. But that's because I'm hypomanic. I was suspecting that I was and my therapist was like, "yeah, you definitely are."

Let's back up a minute. Last night I slept - about as well as I normally do which means waking up every hour to pee (I drink a lot of water - thanks lithium). This is important because the previous 3 nights I didn't sleep. Maybe 2-3 hours a night. And I didn't feel tired. No. I felt energized! So apparently no sleep + Wellbutrin + starting my mental and emotional mastery program = hypomanic.

You guys, I feel so amazing. Now, I'm not crazy hypomanic - I'm just mildly hypomanic. Enough to feel great and have energy and laugh hysterically for 10 minutes straight at a picture that isn't even really that funny (I did that yesterday).

So in therapy today I talked about the mastery program and spirituality and depression and showed M my latest art and talked about purpose and religion and and and . . . But I was talking really fast and flitting from topic to topic and couldn't really sit still and I was laughing. A lot. M must have gotten a kick out of me because he was laughing too. But even still, it was a good session.

Now my hope is that this hypomania sticks around. For awhile. Or forever. One of the two. (Hopefully forever).

Monday 6/22/20 A New Direction

Well folks, today I embarked on a new adventure. One that I'm hoping will get me results in conquering my depression. I'm excited and nervous about it and for the first time in a long time I have real hope.

So what is this new adventure? Well, it's kind of like therapy . . . but completely different. It's a way of retraining my mind, of "shifting" my mindset from a depressive state to a more positive one. It's an intense 3 month program that focuses on letting go of the "coping mindset". The mastermind behind this is a gentleman named Ty Hicks. I happened to "like" a post of his on Instagram and he looked at my profile and messaged me, asking about my bipolar and depression. Now, I normally don't answer random messages but for some reason I responded to his. We messaged back and forth and he asked me for my phone number to discuss his program. I was a bit taken aback and, honestly, a little weirded out and suspicious, but I ultimately gave it to him.

He called, the next day I think, and we talked briefly about what he could do and we set up a time for him to talk at length with me and hubby. I felt very nervous and unsure. Was this guy for real? What the hell was going on? But, I decided to give a go because why the hell not? At worst it would be an hour and a half of my time gone. At best, well, maybe he could actually help me.

He called this past Saturday and spoke with me and hubby for almost 2 hours. He wanted my full history with mental illness, what I've tried, what worked, what didn't work, how do I feel about it, how does hubby feel about it. He was very thorough and, strangely, very calming and reassuring. I felt comfortable talking to him, baring my soul to a complete stranger. It was very surreal. At the end of it all, hubby and I decided to go for it.

I had my first coaching session with him today and it was intense. He gave me tons - like, a metric fuck ton - of information. I took pages of notes. And what he was saying was making sense. Which freaked me out a little bit. After talking I started going through the videos on the website - my homework. I have 5-7 hours of homework each week along with the coaching calls. It's an intense program.

So anyway, yeah. My new adventure. I'm excited and nervous and hopeful. The End.

Monday 6/15/20 Therapy

Hey there! How are y'all doing today? All of my 2 readers of this blog . . . I hope your day is splendid!

Mine, on the other hand, is not splendid. It's not terrible, but it's not splendid - not by a long shot. It's been rough. I knew it would be when I got up. Just woke up with this heaviness on my chest, in my heart and in my head. I just knew.

But I went about getting ready for the day - you know, hair, makeup, all that jazz. Well, I was almost finished when my phone rang. It was my therapist. I was supposed to have therapy at 9am - it was 8:10. My stomach sank. He's cancelling, I thought. I answered. He had a scheduling conflict and needed to reschedule . . . luckily he had an opening at one. I, of course, took it.

I had breakfast, coffee, and went downstairs to work on a painting I started last week. My emptiness was overwhelming. The depression crushing me but I carried on as if everything was okay. Hubby was working from home today and I didn't want him to worry. I didn't want to be a burden.

Let's skip ahead to therapy, shall we?

I started by telling Mike that I've not been doing well. That I'm struggling. I told him how yesterday I had an okay day but when I woke up this morning I knew. I told him about starting on Wellbutrin (we talked about my appointment with Dr. M as well). Then I had him read Saturday's blog post. We talked at length about it. I cried. Quite a bit. I'm not ashamed of that, I just didn't want to do it. I don't really like crying in front of people. Even Mike or my hubby. But boy did I.

We talked about my emptiness and how I'm trying to fill it (spirituality, relationships, books, clothes . . .). I feel I should specify relationships: I'm trying to strengthen my current relationships. I'm not whoring myself out. So stop thinking that. :) Anyway, Mike really emphasized how relationships and love are central, because the world kinda sucks and is full of suffering. Oh, gee, thanks. The world sucks huh? I knew this already though, just based on what I've gone through in my life.

So yeah, relationships and love. Got it. Spirituality can also be very important, which, yeah, I knew. That's why I'm trying to increase/expand my spirituality. Which is hard since I was never exposed to religion growing up. I've made up my own beliefs. But I'm working on this.

Honestly, none of this made me feel that much better. I mean, knowing I'm on the right path helps, I guess, but I still feel this empty void in me. And it makes me so tired. I'm tired of dealing with it. I'm just fucking tired.

We talked a little about the state of the country/world as well because that  can be stressful to be constantly bombarded with. (For future reference, I'm referring to the Covid-19 pandemic and the protests/riots for black lives matter). All of that crap. It can make one weary and I know it definitely affects me a little bit.

Therapy was difficult today. Hopefully that means it will prove to be helpful. Hopefully some nuggets of goodness are planted in the back of my head and they'll help me feel better. I'm praying for this. Maybe you could too.

Man this post seems to be a bunch of rambling. Oh well. It's good to purge. 

Saturday 6/13/20 Some Thoughts

So.

Here we are again. We can't keep meeting up like this. People will talk.

Or not. Probably not. There's not much to talk about.

I had a hard time falling asleep last night. I couldn't shut off my brain. So many thoughts swirling around in my head and I couldn't keep up. I had some of what I thought were good ideas but they escaped me as soon as they came. I wish I had gotten up and written them down. Maybe I should keep a notebook next to my bed. . .

Anyway, it's no secret that I've been struggling. This hole, this emptiness that been with me since I was a little girl, is growing. And nothing seems to fill it - not even my hubby or son. Which pains me so much. They are my everything and they should be enough but that damn hole lingers. I don't know what to do. Nothing helps. Buying stuff? Pffft, no. Spending time with my family? Well, I guess it does help but not nearly enough. I've been praying, doing daily Bible readings, and started reading the Bible . . . nope. Nothing.

Actually, reading the Bible kind of angers me. Why? Because I don't understand it. It makes no sense to me. And I don't get anything out of it. I'll read what's supposed to be a meaningful passage and it's nothing to me. I don't get filled with the holy spirit or whatever. I'm not moved. It doesn't help. I wish it did. I wish I was one of those people with faith who find meaning in life. I find no meaning in life.

I find no meaning in life.

I don't know how to. I look for joy in the small things and, sometimes when the darkness isn't so all encompassing, I find it. Briefly. But it never sustains me. I yearn for more but I rarely find it. I'm stuck in this cycle, this cycle of hating life and everything in it, punctuated by rare glimpses of how life could be. I know how life could be. Last year I was stable and happy for 5 months before everything came crashing down again.

I'm on my 4th month now being depressed again and I fucking hate it. I hate every fucking thing about it. It's not fair. But Cami, life isn't fair. You know what? Fuck you. That's all I have to say about that (to quote Forrest Gump). If God has some sort of master plan for me he better reveal something about it soon because this is tiresome. Dreadfully tiresome.

So yeah. I'm trying to better myself. And I'm failing. I'm trying to fight my depression and I'm failing. I'm trying to fill my hole and I'm failing. Yes, I know I have a very negative viewpoint. I'm trying to be positive, I really am. You just can't tell by this blog post. I'm venting. I'm allowed to do that, to vent. And I'm probably failing at that too.

Wednesday 6/10/20 Psychiatrist Visit

I saw my psychiatrist, Dr. M, yesterday for my routine 3 month check in. I typically see him every 3 months for a med review, symptom review, and med refill. Invariably he also mentions, briefly, ECT. This takes up the first 10 minutes of the appointment. The second 10 minutes is spent chatting about my job (nursery nurse) and life in general. My scripts are sent and I make an appoint for 3 months to do it all over again. Last year we were also discussing TMS as I was going through it. But this is pretty much how things go.

Not yesterday though. If you've been keeping up with my blog then you know that I've been pretty darn depressed again and wanting a change (not ECT). I think I need a med change. While the med combo I'm on has kept me the most stable, it's falling short with my depression. I had some ideas of what we could do, but I wanted to hear what Dr. M had to say before I offered up suggestions. He is, after all, the MD.

I think he could tell something was wrong when I walked in. Just something about my aura maybe . . . or my resting bitch face and over sized hoodie in June. He asked how I was doing. Not good. He looked at me a moment, leaned back in his chair and asked what was up. I told him about how my depression is getting progressively worse, how I feel so empty and dead inside. How I've been doing maintenance TMS and how it's not really helping. My lip trembled. I need something different. He folded his hands in his lap and - of course - asked if I had given any thought to trying ECT again. I told him yes I had but because of the memory issues I already have, I'm worried about them getting worse and me not being able to do my job. He nodded and said he'd review my meds and history.

I sat forward in my chair, wringing my hands with anxiety. See, I came here knowing that I would be firing Dr. M. I've tried getting a med change with him before and met with resistance. He always only offers ECT. And I don't want ECT. That would be an absolute last resort. An I-know-I-will-kill-myself-if-I-don't type of thing.

He looked over at me, his glasses hanging precariously off the end of his nose. "Cami, you've been on almost everything. All of the powerhouses we use for bipolar . . . you've been on them. And then some." He leaned back. "One med I don't see that you've been on is Wellbutrin. It's an antidepressant that works differently than the Prestiq you're currently on. We could try adding that to your current regimen and see if that helps bring you up."

I thought a minute and slowly nodded my head.

"It's our best bet without doing a complete upheaval of you regimen. I'd prefer not to do that as you've been the most stable on it."

I nodded again. "Okay. I'll try it." I was surprised really. I wasn't expecting him to offer up a medication for me to try. I was a little dumbfounded.

Dr. M discussed how the titration up would go and that I would need to see him again in a month for a follow up to see how I was doing on it. I nodded and thanked him. We still had time to talk about delivering babies, which grosses him out, but I think secretly fascinates him.

I guess I don't have to fire him yet after all.

In other news, last night I took my first Wellbutrin, 150mg. I take 150mg nightly for 10 days and then go up to 300mg nightly. This morning I felt groggy (drowsiness is a side effect) and I've been sluggish all day. I'm hoping after my body gets used to it this will go away. We'll see.
 

Thursday 6/4/20 Therapy

Well. Therapy was a bit different today than it normally is. Different in a good way, different in a weird way . . . just, different. It started with M meeting me outside his office. I was a bit confused, actually.

"Do you remember a few months ago when I said I had someone in a similar situation as you?" M asked. "And I thought you two could meet?"

"Umm, no, not really," I replied.

"Well I do, and his appointment was just before yours. I thought you could meet him and talk a little bit. Are you okay with that?"

"Sure, I guess." M ushered me into the building and into his office. Truthfully, I was a little taken aback. I almost never mind talking to other people with bipolar disorder - I usually enjoy it - but my initial thought was that this would eat into my session. And I wasn't too keen on that. I had stuff I wanted to talk about.

As I walked into M's office I saw a rather good looking young fellow who introduced himself as Jacob. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt but looked put together. I introduced myself and took a seat in M's rocking chair - he insisted I sit there. M had Jacob and I start by giving each other some background info about ourselves, including why we were seeing M.

"Well," I said, "I'm seeing M because I'm bat shit crazy." (enter slightly tense laughter here) "Actually, that's kinda true. I was diagnosed 10 years ago, and I've been diagnosed as both bipolar 1 and 2, no one seems to know which I really am. Not that it matters. I also have chronic PTSD. I've dealt with depression since I was in 5th grade, misdiagnosed as Major Depression for many years. I've had my ups and downs, but I mostly struggle with the depression side of bipolar.  I'm a nurse, I deliver babies, I love my job. I'm married and we have a 13 year old son. My husband is the most supportive person I know and I would be lost without him. I've been hospitalized 6 times - once for mania and 5 times for depression/suicidal ideation. Um . . . and I have a dog."

Jacob was attentive while I rambled on, nodding here and there. He told me he had also been dealing with depression since he was young and was misdiagnosed as ADHD, anxiety, and Major Depression until he was diagnosed bipolar 2 a year and a half ago. He's struggled with ups and downs too, mostly downs. He's struggled with drugs and alcohol in the past but feels he has that aspect under control. He mostly used the drugs and alcohol to numb his symptoms. His father is his biggest supporter, along with a few close friends.

Now, to be fair, there was more that Jacob said. He was very well spoken and very out spoken. And, honestly, I don't remember it all.

We talked for 45 minutes about our experiences, meds, psychiatrists, hospitalizations, support systems, stigma, coping mechanisms, art (he draws and plays music, I draw/paint), and therapy. I thoroughly enjoyed talking with him.

After 45 minutes M "kicked him out" so we could talk. Jacob asked for my number to talk again, which I gave him. And then M and I had a 20 minute mini session. I told him about my crap moods, about feeling like a burden, about cutting. It was an intense mini session, and that, coupled with all the talking with Jacob . . . well, I'm a bit worn out. Mentally, not physically. Obviously.

In other news, I had maintenance TMS again on Tuesday. They re-mapped my brain and upped the intensity slightly. Hopefully this helps. Wednesday I did a short workout which felt nice. Nice to move my body again. Though I'm sore today. And I see Dr. M next Tuesday. And, well, I might be firing him. I think I need a med change. I don't think my current combo is working like it should be. So if all he does is offer ECT, then I'll find myself a different doctor. One who is willing to work WITH me. I hope I don't have to fire Dr. M - I've been with him for 5-6 years. But I need someone who's going to listen to me.

I think that's all I got in me. I might need a nap. 

Friday 5/29/20 Bets Off

Oy vey. I'm supposed to be at work today. I'm writing this so obviously I'm not. I was put on delayed start until one. That means instead of going into work at 7am, my delayed start time is 1pm - but only if I'm needed. If I'm not needed I'll be put on call. I have a sneaking suspicion that I won't be needed.

So I'm at home, trying to come up with something to do. I want to draw, I just can't come up with something to draw. So I figured I'd write instead. Listen to some music. See if I can get the creative juices flowing.

And so far it's not working.

Damn.

Mood wise I'm status quo: empty, down, numb, hopeless, pointless, etc. I have maintenance TMS again next Tuesday the 2nd. I'm hopefully going to talk to Dr. F and see if he's accepting new patients. I hope so. I pray he is. (If you read my last post you know why). I need something new, a fresh set of eyes, and I don't think I'll get that from Dr. M anymore. I truly believe Dr. M is done with me.

In other news, I hate my hair. I'm growing it out from a pixie and it's in this really awkward phase of being too long but too short to do anything. I'm so close to cutting it off again. I really hate it. And hair on average grows only 6 inches per year. This is going to take forever. Two-three years of awkwardness. Ugh. What to do, what to do . . .

I guess I don't have that much to say today.  Hope all is well with you.

Monday 5/25/20 Memorial Day

It's Memorial Day and I'm actually off. Which is nice, except it means I'll probably be working the 4th of July. That's okay though - I don't need that day off anymore (I wanted it off for the Denver Pop Culture Con, but that has been rescheduled for November - Thanksgiving weekend, of course *obvious eye roll*). But anyway, I'm off and my mother-in-law and brother-in-law are coming over for dinner. We're grilling. Burgers and hot dogs cause we're cheap and lazy :)

I've been dealing with the steady erosion of self. I've been feeling pretty badly. My usual: empty, depressed, hollow, numb, hopeless, pointless . . . you get the idea. All the bad stuff. It's been pretty relentless. I've cut twice. I might do it more. I struggle at work. I struggle at home. I wake up in the morning only looking forward to bed. In short, it sucks.

I don't have therapy again until June 4th. At my last session M told me to call if I need to be seen sooner (since we were going 3 and a half weeks between sessions). Well, yeah, I need to be seen sooner. I mean, I feel that way for sure. But have I called him? No. No I haven't.

Why the hell not?? You need him, call him!

Sounds easy, right? Well, for me it's not. I haven't called him because I don't want to be a burden. That's how I feel right now, like I'm a burden on everyone. And I hate feeling like that. But that's what I am -  a burden. I'm having to do maintenance TMS - which is $200 a pop. That makes me a financial burden. I'm not pulling my weight with the housework. Burden. I'm relying on hubby emotionally so much right now. Burden.

Trust me - I know this is the depression talking. But it's putting up a strong argument. One that I have no retort to.

So no, I haven't called M because I don't want to be a burden to him too. I feel that he needs this break from me because I'm so annoying and a drain.

So I don't know what to do. Well, that's a lie. Because I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to wait until my scheduled appointment. So that I'm less of a burden and don't feel so crappy about myself.

I'm truly thinking I need a medication tweak. I don't see my psychiatrist until June 9th, of course. And, quite honestly, I'm dreading seeing him. See, I don't think he'll adjust my meds. I think all he's going to do is suggest ECT again, which I absolutely won't do. I think he's kinda done with me. I think he's given up on me. And that hurts. I don't want to have to find another psychiatrist. And I mean, I like Dr. M, I just think he's truly given up on me. Don't ask me why I feel that way, I don't know why. It's probably the depression talking. Again, depression puts up a compelling argument.

So anyway, yeah, I'm a mess right now. So much negative self talk that I can't seem to counter or squelch. I'll get there though, right? I mean, I have to, because I can't keep doing this. 

Tuesday 5/19/20 Um, yeah

It's been almost a week since my last post and I'm glad to say I'm not doing as bad as I was then. I was in a very bad state last Wednesday. I mean, I begged my hubby to get me a box cutter so I could cut myself (he said no, of course). But I was scary bad.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not doing great. I'm still feeling empty and down and numb and hopeless and pointless. I'm back to being almost emotionless. I start to feel like I'm going to cry and there's nothing behind it - no emotion - so I can't. I can't cry now because there's nothing there. I smile and laugh and joke but there's nothing there. It's all faked. The only true emotion I'm feeling is anger. That emotion isn't faked. It's there, burning hot. Anger over little things, big things, no things . . . It's the only thing I can genuinely feel.

And I hate it.

I hate only feeling anger. I look at my hubby and son and I should feel warmth and love and contentment. I feel nothing. I love them more than life itself and I feel nothing. You have no idea how much this sucks. How much it hurts. How much it fuels my anger. I don't need more help fueling my anger.

*exasperated sigh*

I had TMS again yesterday, making that two times this month. I'm praying so hard that it helps. I need it to help. Because I can't keep doing what I'm doing. It's no way to live. Honestly, I'm not living - I'm surviving. Living day to day because more than a single day is too much to bear, looking for little shreds of hope to hold onto to get me by.

I don't want to continue to do this.

Wednesday 5/13/20 Okay brain, you win

So remember on Monday I wrote that things were "looking up"? Ha ha ha! Oh MAN!! That was funny! A real knee slapper!

Cause, well, things are back to square one. Or, more accurately, worse than square one.

But, how? You said you were feeling better! For like 3 days!

Yes, that's right. I was. But by Monday afternoon my mood was starting to slide again. I was starting to feel empty, numb and down. I felt that way all day yesterday. And then today came. And today has sucked.

It's 1346 as I write this and I have broken down sobbing 4 times now (I've only been awake for 5 hours people). Here's the thing though: I'm used to feeling empty and numb and down and now I'm feeling ALL THE THINGS. Despair, loneliness, sadness, ANGER, hopelessness, anxiety . . . all the bad things, I'm feeling them all. Intensified negative emotions. If I'm not crying over something I'm trying desperately to keep myself from screaming, cussing, and throwing shit. My emotions are moving so fast I'm getting physically nauseous. I've had to lay down several times I was so sick to my stomach.

I was texting my hubby when I remembered something: when I started TMS Dr. F told me that I would start to get worse before I got better. That most people would start to feel more (mostly negative) emotions and would think that this was a sign they were getting worse. He told me to keep going as it was really a sign that TMS was working and I was getting better. Hubby remembers this too. I'm praying that this is what's going on right now. That I'm feeling worse but getting better. I have TMS again on the 18th.

Today has been a roller coaster ride from hell. I've managed to do a drawing, do laundry, and get dinner in the crock pot. That's it. I was going to do so much more. I was going to workout, paint some sparrows, clean the kitchen, and go for a walk. None of that got done thanks to my violent, negative mood swings. I'm hoping tomorrow is better. And Friday better still. I work Saturday and I can't be at work like this. I won't be able to function. So you hear that brain? You better get your shit together.

Monday 5/11/20 Therapy and a Better Outlook

Well hello there. It's Monday and I've just gotten home from therapy. Therapy was a little weird today. Why? Because I'm feeling a little better. Here, let's not get ahead of myself. Lets backup a few days.

Last week was bad. I was having all kinds of anxiety about work and random other things. I was feeling extremely depressed. So depressed in fact that I told my hubby that while I wasn't actively suicidal, I wouldn't mind if I ceased to exist. He made me call the TMS center and schedule a maintenance treatment. Which I did. I had my first treatment last Friday and I have another on the 18th.

Something must have clicked with that TMS treatment. Something in my brain turned on or turned off or started working because on Saturday I felt okay. Not great, but okay. Okay enough that I stood in line at Lowe's for an hour to buy plants and I didn't break down. I didn't get anxious. I didn't get mad. And then, even though I was tired, I helped hubby plant all the plants we bought and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. That's huge.

And then Sunday, yesterday, I worked. And my day was okay. It was fine. I did three deliveries (two of them were c-sections, which I really dislike doing). And here's the thing: I was okay. I rolled with it. I didn't get upset or anxious or angry or annoyed. I did my job, I joked with the parents, I was able to converse with my coworkers. And that was amazing.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel. I can see it now, and it's growing brighter.

Now circle back to therapy being weird. It was weird because it was like M and I were just shooting the shit. We talked about work and my anxiety and my mom and why I wanted to become a nurse. All pertinent stuff. But the conversation flowed instead of being stifled by my depression. The hour went by quickly. And we're going to go three weeks before my next appointment, trying to space them out again.

So I'd say things are looking up. :)

Tuesday 5/5/20 Cinco de Mayo

Well, it's Cinco de Mayo and Taco Tuesday on the same day! How fun is that? Answer: not really all that fun. At least not in quarantine. Maybe if restaurants were open . . .

Yesterday would have been my normal day for therapy but my therapist and I decided to go 2 weeks this go around. So I don't see him until next Monday. Which actually kind of sucks because I could sure use a vent session. I'm not doing great.

I'm at the point where I'm not really suicidal but I wouldn't mind if I ceased to exist. It's not a good place to be. Everything just seems so pointless and stupid. There's no reason for anything. I hate feeling like this. Especially because suicidal ideation usually isn't far behind. I'm trying to come up with things to help.

I was supposed to work today but I was put on call and then released, so no work for me today. Which is a blessing in disguise. I was dreading work today because I felt so badly yesterday. So I did something with my time: I drew 8 pictures of sparrows. I still need to paint them, but I figure I can do that tomorrow or Friday (drawing them today was as much as I could handle). But that's productive, yeah? And I love sparrows, they represent hope to me. So I actually accomplished something. And that's good!

Except I feel that it was all for naught. Why? Because everything is pointless to me. What's the point in painting the sparrows? What does it accomplish? Do I feel better? (No, no I don't). I feel overwhelmed actually because now I have to paint them.

This pointlessness is killing me. I don't know what to do about it. Positive thinking, countering my thinking, isn't making a dent at all. Right now I'm just stubbornly pushing through. It seems it's all I can do. This is why therapy would have been nice. Maybe get a suggestion or two on how to battle my fucked up mind.

I just want to nap. It's all I ever really want to do anymore. I hate that. It's not constructive. It's counterproductive. It's hiding. But it's all I want to do, and sometimes all I can do. I'll get through this, I keep telling myself that. Depression lies. I've been a lot worse in the past and I made it through. I'll make it through again. 

Wednesday 4/29/20

I tried this morning. I really did. I got up early, had breakfast and coffee, got ready . . . I even put on makeup and real clothes (as opposed to just gym attire). I went downstairs to my happy place (my studio) to draw and paint. I was even able to get 2 sketches done before lunch and ink one of them after lunch. I did a load of laundry and put it away.

I tried.

So why then am I feeling so crappy? Why am I still so empty and depressed, feeling close to tears almost constantly? Why?

The obvious answer, of course, is that I'm bipolar and I'm in a depressive episode. There's no doubt about that.

I guess I was just hoping some positive self care would tip me over into the feeling good category.

But I guess I'm not so lucky.



In other news, I work tomorrow and I'm worried about it. I was supposed to work yesterday and I was called off - for which I'm thankful of. I've been feeling even worse at work. Having a hard time coping and wanting to cut. I've been withdrawing at work and I think people are starting to notice. All I want to do is hide. Sleep. Cut. Three things I can't do at work.

I'll be fine though. I'm tough.

I don't see my therapist for 2 weeks. Two weeks! That seems so long. So far away. I'll make it though, and have some artwork to show him. 

Monday 4/27/20 Therapy and Work

This is one of those times where I want to write, need to write, but I don't know what to say. My brain is completely jumbled right now - it's a mess. So many thoughts. Most of them don't even make any sense. But I'm going to try and write a coherent post.

I had therapy today. Actually, I just got home from therapy. Almost the entire session centered on my depression and anxiety. Mostly my depression though. I've been getting progressively more and more depressed. More and more empty. More and more lost. I focused on Saturday as an example.

I worked Saturday. When I got up that morning to shower I could just feel it was going to be a difficult day. I already felt terribly down and empty. I tried talking up the day, knowing there were only 2 inductions, it's a Saturday - it shouldn't be busy, it'll be a good day!

I almost had myself convinced.

I went out to my truck to leave for work and there was a light layer of frost on my windshield. I almost lost it. My eyes welled up with tears and I nearly sat down in the driveway and cried. Over frost. Instead, I sucked it up, scraped my windshield and drove to work. Little did I know that would be my theme of the day.

I started off the day with a c-section - not how I like to start off my mornings, but hey, it is what it is. I felt that familiar feeling of needing to cry and shook it off. I did the c-section, admit, and charted, the whole time feeling like I was going to lose it. Spoiler alert - I didn't.

I had lunch and did another delivery when I felt something else, something different. The need to cut. When I feel empty and devoid of real feelings I get the desire to cut. Because when I cut I can at least feel something - even if that something is pain. It gives me a fleeting sense of belonging almost. I don't know how to describe it. I wanted to cut, badly.

So I texted my hubby and let him know what was going on. He talked with me for a bit and suggested I draw on myself, particularly butterflies (because of the Butterfly Project - a movement for those who self harm to draw butterflies on themselves instead of cutting). I had heard of it before but never put much clout into it.

Well, I tried it. And it helped. Briefly. But briefly was all I needed in the moment to keep from cutting. I ended up with four butterflies on my arm. Now, I still wanted to cut, I was just able to not do it. So I'll count that as a win.

The day went on and I continued to feel empty and hopeless and depressed. I put on a facade for those around me, which was difficult to do. But I did it anyway. By the time I left work I was exhausted. Not because it was busy - I only did 3 deliveries - but because of my flailing mental health.

Feeling like I'm going to constantly break down has been my MO as of late. I feel like this every day, coupled with the emptiness, hopelessness, and exhaustion. In therapy we discussed coping mechanisms and what I've done that has and hasn't helped. The only thing I can do is power through - it's all I know how to do.

Today I'll be helping my hubby build a shed. Not what I want to do today but it needs to be done. And it'll give me time with him and time out in the sun doing manual labor and that's good for the soul, right? At least that's what I'm telling myself. In all honestly I'd like to go back to bed.

Tuesday 4/21/20 Why can't I cry?

I'm not really sure why I'm writing. I feel like I need to. I feel trapped. I feel depressed. I feel like I need to cry but I can't. I'm so empty and there's no strong emotion behind the need . . . so nothing comes. Even though I feel like I'll break down any moment.

I truly hate feeling like this. I'm stuck in this no man's land. This dark closet of no emotion. But that's not entirely true, is it? Because there is emotion. There's guilt, shame, hopelessness, worthlessness, and despair. Those are my bedfellows now.

So why can't I cry?

I keep thinking I would feel better after I cry. I cried yesterday, during therapy and then in the evening when I was trying to read. I felt so drained afterwards. But it was a release. I need that release now. But alas, I'm dry.

I also hate being so negative. But it's all I have right now.

Let's change up the pace.

I shaved my legs today - it's been over a week. Nice and smooth. I did laundry, I did two paintings, I read. I watched some uplifting Ted talks and browsed Pinterest while listening to good music. And now, I'm writing because I felt the need. It's funny how I've been so compelled to write recently. When I'm stable and happy I don't write nearly as much, if at all, truthfully. I find that strange. I need to get in the habit of writing when I'm feeling good. After all, my book can't be all doom and gloom, right? 

Monday 4/20/20 Therapy

I just finished therapy via telemedicine (we're still in quarantine due to corona virus). This was a tough one. I started by showing M my latest vent drawing and reading him my last blog post. Reading that blog post was actually difficult and I started to tear up.

And it left M speechless.

He stared at me, a very somber look on his face, and asked if I needed to go to the hospital. No, no I do not. Are you sure, he asked. Yes, I'm sure. Even just for respite? I told him I would rather be with my hubby and son. He nodded and said okay.

I told him about how empty I've been feeling, how devoid of feeling, how bad. I started crying. I didn't think I would, but I did. I didn't lose it, I didn't sob. Just sort of silently cried. Just for a moment or two. It felt good and it felt awful. Necessary.

We talked at length about my lack of emotion and ways to counteract it. We picked objects and ascribed feeling and meaning to them, hoping that by doing this I would feel something too. We started with the wedding photos and family photos in my bedroom. Photos that should mean something to me. Right now, however, I get no feeling from them. I can identify feelings I should have . . . but I don't feel them.

We did this with several more objects, assigning feelings and meaning to them, and each time I couldn't actually feel what I was "supposed" to. So my homework is to do this daily throughout the week so that maybe, hopefully, I'll start to feel.

Being empty, not feeling, is horrible. And difficult. It's hard to interact with people when you aren't sure what you should be feeling. Luckily for me I've been doing this my whole life. Hiding my depression behind a well crafted facade. Now I hide my lack of feeling. It's not easy, but I can do it.

I work Thursday and Saturday this week, both days in trans. I'm wondering how I'll do. When I get overwhelmed my anger and anxiety has been surfacing. I'm hoping for calm days. Easy days. Days where I don't have to wear my mask so much. Because wearing a mask, keeping up my facade, is tiring.

And I'm already tired.