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.  

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.  

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 7/6/20 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 1/27/2020

Hey there.

How's it going?

It would appear that my, uh, black cloud is back. Trying to take over. Envelop me with darkness. It's there, hovering, waiting for the right moment to strike. It could be any moment, I feel it. It's unrelenting.

I've been so close to breaking down. Several times a day. Every day. So close. My eyes fill with tears, full to the brim, but they don't spill over. There I sit, feeling the world crashing down around me, so ready to lose it, and then . . . nothing. The tears . . . they go. I don't know where because they're certainly not spilling down my cheeks. I sit there feeling so defeated and so empty and so . . . gyped because I didn't get that release. That emotional release that comes with crying. I don't get that. So I'm full of bad things. I'm full of emptiness - how can that be? I feel lost and confused and let down and angry, so angry! Why can't I cry??

I haven't been able to cry since I did TMS. Five months.

Granted, I haven't really needed to cry. I've been stable. Until recently. Until my black cloud started coming back around.

And now . . . now I can't cry.

When I'm not close to breaking down I feel flat. I feel meh. I just am. I'm not as quick to laugh. I get angry more often, and at stupid little things. I don't want to do anything. When I'm home alone by myself all I want to do is sleep. Sleep to escape. Need something to pass the time? Sleep. I have no motivation for anything. And I mean anything. Drawing, painting, reading, Spanish . . . I don't want to do any of it. I just want to sleep.

And I hate this. So much. I hate my black cloud. I keep thinking . . . if I could just cry. If I could just get that relief  I would feel better. Do I know I would feel better? No. Of course not. But I think it would be better than having everything bottled up.

So now I'm stuck in this no man's land. Feeling empty and flat normally . . . anhedonic. And, well, feeling worse. But unable to express it.

Why not hypomania? Why not that? Just a little. Just a little . . .

Tuesday 11/12/19

So let's be honest here: I'm kinda struggling. Not big time struggling. Not relapsing into depression (God I hope not). But struggling just the same. I'm tired. I'm more down. I'm not enjoying things. I have no motivation. For anything. I don't feel like me.

Part of the problem is work. I feel so burnt out. I'm not enjoying my job right now (to remind y'all, I'm a nurse and I help deliver babies). But yeah, I'm burnt out. We've had so many changes over the past few months that it's pretty overwhelming. I feel like I'm drowning in the change and I can't keep up. And we've been so. Damn. Busy. That in itself is exhausting. And it just sucks not enjoying your job, a job I used to love.

Another problem is my damn brain. It's like it developed muscle memory for being depressed and now I'm falling into the unhealthy cycle of  depressive thinking. Negative thoughts abound, most of them not even conscious. Sleeping too much (I didn't get up until noon today), physically feeling worn and tired all the time (though I guess this could also be the fibromyalgia), anger, bitterness, and an overall negative outlook. Seriously brain, what the fuck? Why can't you get trapped in positive thinking? (I know the answer to that of course - I've been depressed my whole life - it's all my brain knows. Even with being bipolar, hypomania episodes are few and far between and short lived. My brain knows depression. Period.)

I hate feeling like this. It makes me worry that I'm going to fall back into depression, something I desperately don't want.  Hubby reminded me that feeling burnt out is normal from time to time, that everyone feels that way at some point. Strangely, I didn't find that particularly comforting. Probably my depressive brain talking.

Stupid brain.

I need a vacation.

6/27/19

This week has been a rough week.

I worked Monday and Wednesday and both days were busy. I'm having a hard time keeping up the facade at work that everything is okay. It's exhausting. The days are long (and not only because I work 12 hour shifts). I've wanted to cut but I haven't. Yesterday I broke down twice which is something I try so hard not to do at work. But it happened.

On Tuesday I had my appointment with the Southern Colorado TMS clinic. I was there for 2 hours and we went over  what TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation) is, the research behind it, and how it can help. I also had a medical intake. When Dr. H asked if I had any questions I said I only had one: when can I start? TMS is a treatment that has great success in treating depression with little to no side effects. It works by sending strong magnetic pulses to the regions of the brain identified as being responsible for depression. These magnetic pulses excite the neurons, activate them, and the repeated sessions act like muscle memory and the neurons learn how to remain activated. This is something I want to do.

Except I might not be able to.

See, insurance companies are like a bag of dicks and they obviously don't want to approve something if they can get out of it. TMS is FDA approved to treat major depression and generalized anxiety. What's my diagnosis? Bipolar disorder. So more than likely my insurance company will deny coverage for TMS based on that. Which let me tell you, sucks fucking balls. Because what is it that I deal with the most? Depression. I haven't had a hypomanic episode in about 4 years. But I deal with recurrent depression constantly. The longest period that I've been euthymic is 3 months. Then it's back to depression. But I'll probably be denied treatment based on a label. A fucking label.

So I cried. And I cried again that night at home. Dr. H said that he and his team would do what they can to get me approved and they were hopeful they could do it. Which gives me hope. Now if only I can hang onto that.

I had therapy today in which I cried also. I seem to be crying so much more lately. My depression feels as if it's getting worse day by day. My therapist could tell a difference in me compared to 2 weeks ago. That's not good. But what can you do? I'm trying.

I'm trying, I'm hanging onto hope. It's all I can do.

6/14/19

Staring at the walls . . . or off into space. It's what I do best it seems. It's all I do anymore it seems.

Why?

Well, because I'm so empty. I'm not sure I've ever felt this empty. Seriously. I've felt more depressed, but not more empty. There is truly nothing there. I can't believe how devoid of emotion I am. I'm a robot, going through the motions. Trying to pass as normal. I laugh but there's nothing behind it. It's fake. Forced. I can't even cry because there's nothing there. There's no emotion.

I hate this. I can't stand it. I want to curl up in a ball and not exist. I'm trying so hard to stay positive but I'm getting worse.

I'm getting worse.

Three more days and I see Dr. M. I don't even know what to tell him. Well, I do, but I'm worried I won't get it out properly. I'm worried that I'll minimize what I'm going through. I'm worried that I won't get the help I need. I'm worried that he'll be so focused on ECT that he won't hear me. That last sentence is what scares me. I will not do ECT again. No. Not going to happen.

I feel like I have so much to write but I can't focus and get it out. My mind is blank and I fell like I'm beating a dead horse.

So yeah.

Why can't I be euphorically hypomanic? Just mildly. Come on brain, work with me here. We all know you do depression well. How 'bout some hypomania?

Fuck. 

3/17/19

Man. It's been awhile since I've written anything again. I'm not sure what's up with that. But let's get right into it, shall we?

I'm having a little bit of a rough day today. It's not a bad day, not by any means, but it's definitely a little rough. I'm feeling a bit down and my mind is racing and I can't seem to focus on anything. Even sitting down to write this is proving difficult.

When I have days like this it's hard for me to remember that it's just a day. I immediately think that it must be the start of a new episode. That I'm going to get worse. That life as I know it - stability - is going to come crashing down around me. I try to remind myself that that's simply not the case and that it's just one day. But that doesn't seem to help. My mind races with doomsday scenarios and it tends to make my mood worse.

And you may remember from my last post that there's a part of me that wants this to happen (a very, very small part, but a part none the less). And this part rejoices and throws negative commentary at me, trying to instill a sense of hopelessness. Today that little ear worm is gaining strength.

And that pisses me off.

And not only that, I've been more flat lately. People at work have noticed as I've been more quiet. I'm just not . . . feeling. Not Like I had been. Not like I want to. That in and of itself is a downer. I need to be able to feel. What good is stability if I'm flat? If I'm anhedonic? I don't know, what do I know?

To counter this I've started taking a couple of supplements. L-tryptophan and D,L-phenylalanine. They're amino acids that convert to serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine. They're supposed to help with depression. Now, technically I'm not depressed. I'm stable. I'm hoping, on the one hand, they help keep me stable. On the other hand, if they raise serotonin and dopamine, I'm hoping for maybe some hypomania. I know, I know. I shouldn't be playing around with crap like this. It's not necessarily safe. Or wise. But I just really want a wider range of emotion. I feel so muted. And I'm tired of it.

Last night and this morning were my first doses of the supplements. And so of course I feel down. I seem to have a bad track record with supplements. I plan on giving them at least a few days to see how I feel. Hopefully my next blog post will be more positive and uplifting.

2/25/19

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why does part of me want to be sick again? What kind of twisted, fucked up person am I??

No, seriously.

What. The actual. Fuck. Is wrong with me?

There is a small part of me that wants to be sick again. That wants to be hospitalized again. And I just . . . I don't understand it. At all. I can't even fathom wanting to be sick again. It's awful. It's horrible. And to actually want to be like that? Depressed again? Suicidal again? No. I don't get it.

It's actually very difficult for me to even write about this, to get it out there. I'm embarrassed of it. Ashamed of it. And it makes me feel guilty. Guilty because I've gone through so much and worked so hard to get stable and part of me wants to throw it all away. And for what? Attention?

Attention. That's about the only thing I can come up with. Because I do get more attention when I'm sick. But that attention? It's not worth my stability. So I don't know . . .

What else could it be . . . Familiarity? I am used to being depressed. I've spent most of my life depressed and let's be honest - stability is a little scary. I don't know how to act. I don't know what "normal" is.

But stability is so wonderful. It's so much better than the hell of depression. Stability is even better than hypomania (let's be honest - that's because I usually get irritable hypomania, not euphoric). Stability is necessary for my family, necessary for work, necessary for me.

So why? Why does part of me want to be sick again?

11/5/18

I'm not sure, but maybe, just maybe, this current bout of depression is winding down. I'm hoping this is the case. I'm praying this is the case. Because that would be so amazing. So amazing to feel like myself again. So amazing to not be suicidal all the time. So amazing to have energy and some motivation. So amazing to not feel like crap.

But wait - is it all that amazing?

Surprisingly, the answer is yes and no. No? But . . . that doesn't make sense. How would feeling better not be good? Seriously.

Well, that's not an easy question to answer. And, honestly, I'm not sure the answer is going to make sense.

Let's start with this: I've been ruled by depression and mania (to a much lesser extent) for over 9 years. For over 9 years my life has been complete and total chaos. Severe emotional turmoil is what I know. So being stable, ie not being depressed, is something foreign to me. I don't know how to act. I don't know what to say or do. I don't know who the real me is. This is scary. And there is a sense of loss - loss of the familiar.

Next, there's the attention. I get more attention when I'm in an episode. Which, let's face it, feels good. Especially since when I'm not in an episode I seem to just fade into the background. I'm more or less just there. So having more people check up on me, ask how I'm doing, offer help, and pay attention to me feels nice and I miss that when I'm stable.

If we want to get technical and scientific, we can look at my upbringing. I grew up in an alcoholic home. Life was chaotic and unpredictable. I was always striving to be perfect, always looking for reassurance and praise from wherever I could get it. What does this translate to? I'm intimately familiar with chaos and therefor may subconsciously seek it out - even if I don't want it. Being "normal" is not something I know, and am therefor uncomfortable with it. It's almost as if I want to be depressed or manic, even if I really don't. And seeking out praise and reassurance? That equates to the attention I'm getting from people while in an episode.

Let's look at some recent history. I was depressed from last February through June. I started feeling better the end of June, into July. While I was grateful I was finally feeling better, there was that sense of confusion and loss. I didn't know how to act or what to do with myself. I was just starting to get the hang of it in September when depression starting setting in again. And you know what? There was almost this feeling of relief when I felt those first pangs of darkness. Because I know depression. I know who I am when I'm depressed. And I get to have attention again.

Now lets get real here - how fucked up is that?? Seriously now! How freaking fucked up is all of that? I'm writing this and I just don't get it. Not to mention that I'm ashamed of it. Because it is fucked up. I can't beat myself up over this though, that won't do any good. I need to examine it, accept it, and move on. That's going to be my goal.

Wish me luck.

7/9/18

Do you know what's funny? I have therapy this Thursday (the 12th) and I'm not sure what I'm going to talk about. The last time I saw M I was still very much depressed. Then I had ECT last week and started feeling better. I even got a little hypomanic one day. Now I'm just flat. Though I'm trying not to be.

I had a few good days but now I'm back to being flat. I think I'm quicker to laugh than I was before, and I think I'm feeling more genuine emotion than I was before (although it's difficult for me to do so), but I'm still overall flat. I'm trying to get excited about things, like my communication books and CBT book I ordered.

You know what though? What's frustrating to no end? I'm still having suicidal thoughts. They're really bad today. Like, nearly constant today. I'm so sick of them. I'm so sick of picturing my death in detail. I'm so sick of picturing the aftermath, cause I do think about that too. It's really fucking annoying. I try countering the thoughts, I try thinking about something else and my mind always comes back to suicide. I'm not suicidal though - there's no intent right now. I'm not going to do anything. My mind is just an asshole and hates me.

I'm struggling with getting up in the mornings. Mainly the mornings I have off. I don't want to get up. I have no desire, no motivation. I'm slow moving. I don't get anything done. I just can't. I hate it. I know part of the problem is that I feel that things are pointless. So why get up? Nothing has any meaning or point to it . . .

Anyway, aside from the suicidal thoughts I think overall I'm better than I was before I had ECT last Monday. Something to be thankful for. And I am. I just wish I could get my drive back (especially for exercise) and quit it with the suicidal thoughts. Cause those can ruin a mood.

6/12/18

I'm not sure how to start this post. I'm not even entirely sure what I want to say. So yeah, well, here goes . . .

I saw Dr. M yesterday in office for my med review. We do this about every 3 months. I go in, we discuss how I'm doing, review my meds, he renews my prescriptions if needed, and that's about it. Sometimes we talk about coffee or horses or work or all of the above (yesterday was coffee and work). But I had something else in mind I wanted to discuss. A couple of things, actually. Number one: my lithium. I've been having some swelling in my lower legs which my primary doc thinks is because of my lithium.Not that I'm toxic on it - my levels are normal - but swelling can be a side effect of lithium. And I saw my dermatologist yesterday morning for a skin scan and about my acne. She thinks my acne is because of my lithium. There's two strikes. Third strike? Lithium causes weight gain and weight retention and over the past 2 years I've gained 70 pounds. Seventy fucking pounds. I also have the increased thirst and urination as lithium side effects but those aren't as big. Anyway, I was inquiring as to possibly switching me from lithium because of all of this. You know, try a different mood stabilizer. Dr. M's response? "We have you stable on lithium. Why would I want to go and change that?" Which yes, that makes sense, I get it. But that doesn't mean I'm not disappointed.

I next asked him about getting a prescription for an "upper" like Nuvigil or Provigil for days I feel really crappy and down. And he said no. He thinks they'll just make me anxious. *hangs head in defeat*

Did you read my last blog post? I told Dr. M about how I've been feeling. About how when I'm not in a mood episode I feel empty and hollow. Like a shell of a person. Like I'm stuck in this mild depression where I have to fake that everything is okay. I'm putting on a mask. And he said he thinks that this is probably as good as it gets. We have my major mood episodes pretty much under control and that where I'm at right now . . . well . . . that's as good as it gets for me. That this is what stability looks like for me. Do you understand how horrible that is to hear? I'm still struggling and this is as good as it gets. I don't know what to do anymore. It makes me feel like, why try then? I can't get any better so why try? It reminds me of what a previous psychiatrist told me: "you'll always be depressed and suicidal so you better learn how to deal with it". Was she actually right? I stopped seeing her because of that comment and now it appears there was some truth to it. How fucking horrible. So what am I supposed to do with this? I already struggle with finding purpose in life and now my hope has basically been ripped out from under me.

Lost. That's where I'm at right now. And I don't like it. 

6/1/18

It's Friday, June 1st. A new day, a new month. How exciting. (Are you picking up on the sarcasm? I sure hope so . . .)

I've been having some weird thoughts and feelings the past few days. Thoughts and feelings that I'm not quite sure how to explain. But I'm going to try because I need to get this off my chest. I need to get it out of my head. 

I've been relatively stable for the past year. Except for being almost hospitalized March 2017, and actually being hospitalized this past February, I've been pretty stable. I've had a few dips here and there. Maybe they lasted one day, maybe they lasted 4 or 5 days, but they were short lived and not as intense. I've only had a few days where I've had symptoms of hypomania. So yeah, pretty stable.

But there's something I've discovered with stability. I still feel hollow. I still feel empty. I still feel lost. I still feel flat and withdrawn and generally down. It's like I'm stuck in a mild form of depression constantly. One that no matter what I do I can't break out of. My emotions all feel fake. I'm putting on a show. I smile and laugh while inside I'm secretly dying.

I guess I shouldn't say all my emotions feel fake. I feel anger. Irritability. Pain. Fear. Anxiety. Negative emotions? I've got those covered. It's the positive ones I can't seem to get. And no, it's not for lack of trying. I try. I fucking try. But they come out feeling fake. Like a mask.

Which is where the weird thoughts are coming into play. I almost wish I would go into a mood episode so I would actually feel something. So I wouldn't just be this husk of a person who's just going through the motions. I of course would much rather have a hypomanic episode. Preferably a euphoric one (not dysphoric - those suck). But I would take a depressive one. Because then at least I'm feeling something real, not just a false mask of my own doing.

Isn't this crazy? It's fucking crazy. I've spent the last 8 years of my life trying countless med combos, ECT, and therapy to try and get myself stable and now I want to throw it all away. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me? I have no idea . . .

Honestly, I've probably gone over this before in therapy. This very topic. Only I don't remember it (thanks, ECT). All I know is that my thoughts are a whirlwind of negativity and what ifs. Running through scenario after scenario of what could possibly happen. By the way? None of it is good. No, all of it is pretty shitty.

I don't know what to do anymore. I keep plugging along, day after day, putting on my mask, forcing myself to interact, forcing myself to appear that I'm feeling . . . Forcing myself to appear normal when my mind is truly a hurricane of confused negativity. What do I do? I'm trying so desperately not to self sabotage but I need to know . . . what do I do?  

5/21/18

Well hello there. I'm not quite sure how to write what I want to say. My brain is in a bit of a jumble right now. Racing thoughts, intrusive thoughts . . . it's a mess. Anyway, I was feeling a bit depressed again yesterday, just not right. I wanted to not exist and those feelings have carried over to today.

Yay. Go me.

But I had decided that I was going to do things today, namely, cleaning the house and working out before taking my son to school. I had decided last Friday that I would clean today, period. But when I woke up this morning all I wanted to do was stay in bed. Just sleep. Sleep as long as I possibly could before taking Ayden to school. What did I do? I got my lazy ass out of bed and got on my spin bike for 20 minutes. That, my friends, is a solid win.

But lets talk about the cleaning. On a normal day the task seems daunting. I mean, there's a lot to do. And on a normal day I would break things down into steps and do things one by one, checking them off of my list as I went along. But on a depressed day? Oh no. It seems I'm incapable of doing this, no matter how hard I might try. Everything seems so overwhelming that I want to just sit and stare at the wall.

See that's a thing I think people don't get about bipolar disorder. My brain functions differently when I'm depressed (when I'm manic too) than when I'm "normal" or stable. I can't control these changes (if I could, I would). When I'm depressed everything slows down. It takes me longer to process information. It's like walking through waist high mud. And incoming information has to compete with my negative self talk, not an easy task.

Today though, today I was on a mission. My ass got up and got on that spin bike. I was going to get shit done!

Or so I thought.

Well, I got a little bit done, but not as much as I wanted. Why? I was overwhelmed. My brain was working against me. I did about half of what I had planned. I'm hoping to do the rest on Thursday. Maybe my brain will cooperate with me then.

And I didn't really write everything I wanted to. Because my brain is an asshole.

5/19/18

So you know, I've been pretty stable over the last month, except when I haven't been. I've been mostly stable, with a couple little blips here and there.

Damn you know what? This is completely off subject but I'm sitting here on my couch and the heat just kicked on and it smells like my damn dog. Like my icky dog's scent is coming out of the vents. How gross is that? Now the whole house smells like my dog. Ugh.

Anyway, back to these blips.

I had one dysphoric hypomanic blip that only lasted a day. Thank goodness, cause I'm a real bitch when I'm like that. Then, last Saturday night I apparently forgot to take my pills. No big deal, right?

Wrong.

I worked on Sunday, Mother's Day, and I was horribly depressed. Like hiding, sobbing uncontrollably, cutting myself, suicidal thoughts . . . it was bad. All for forgetting to take my pills one freaking night. This whole past week I've been recovering from that little episode. And it's been harder than I thought. But I'm doing it, slowly but surely.

On a plus note, I've taken care of some really awesome patients. I'm thinking I'm going to start writing about them. We'll see how that goes.

4/20/18

Wow. It's been a month since my last post. It's been a mostly uneventful month too. Well, that's not entirely true. That was a lie, actually.

What's really been going on are mildish mixed episodes. Three or four days here, three or four days there . . . Mixed episodes are not fun. And mine weren't the fun euphoric type. No, mine were the racing thoughts, anxiety, and irrational anger type. I was a joy to be around (not really).

Yesterday, for example, I was cooking an egg. I set the spatula down on the edge of the pan. It slid off. I replaced it. It slid off again. So I cussed it out and threw it. Perfectly logical, right?

Right.

I've been having lots of icky down feelings too. Along with guilt (for being me) and paranoia. All in all it's been great fun. Or not. One of the two.

3/23/18

This isn't really the post I want to write. I want to write an uplifting happy post or a funny post or anything but this.

I'm so fucking angry right now. Just so full of anger and irritability and hate it's ridiculous. And not only that but anxiety and racing thoughts . . . paranoia. I'm not sleeping well. I seem to be in an irritability type hypomania. It's mild - thank God - but it's frustrating none the less.

I'm getting so pissed at every little thing. Pissed to the point I want to either destroy stuff or break down sobbing. I'm trying not to do either.

One of the things I'm pissed at is how I look. My size, my weight. I've gained so much weight because of my medications and I can't seem to lose it. At all. I HATE how I look. I can't stand it. So much so that I want to self harm. And the shitty thing is that I have no drive to workout. No motivation. I'm ready to give up and give in because of my fucking moods. I fucking hate this so much. I hate what I've become.

And I'm so paranoid that other people feel the same way, that other people hate me too. Or at the very least dislike me and only tolerate me because they have to. I think other people are mad at me. I know these are probably delusions but I can't stop feeling that they're true.

I really hate fucking feeling like this. And I don't know how to make it stop.

3/9/18

I wish I could eloquently describe how I've been feeling. When I sit down to write, everything gets scrambled in my head and I can't seem to get it out. It's a jumbled mess up there and nothing makes any sense. My mind has been racing again and my thoughts are confused and tangled and at war with one another. It makes writing nearly impossible.

But I'm going to try.

Since I got out of the hospital Feb. 12th I've been stuck in the annoying mild depression (save for 3 days of hypomania). It's the kind of depression where I feel hopeless and empty, down and dark, worthless and withdrawn. The emotions I exhibit are mostly faked - I don't feel much other than sadness, anger, or nothing. Mostly nothing.

I mostly feel nothing and it's so frustrating. This is the emptiness. I feel dead inside. I'm not a person. People have a range of emotions and I have nothing. I have a false smile, a laugh that is a hoax. I have to put on a facade in order to interact with people and it's exhausting. But it's what I have to do in order to fit in. God forbid people know I'm still depressed, still struggling.

That's not to say I can't feel real emotion. I'm good at feeling the sadness that accompanies my depression. I can certainly feel the anger as well. And, every once in awhile, I'll get a glimpse of how things could be. I'll laugh and for a split second feel truly happy. I'll hug my husband and feel content and at peace. Sadly, these feelings don't last but a moment and then they're gone. They're gone and my emptiness is back

I ask myself questions, like, is this as good as it gets? Is this emptiness and depression as good as it gets for me? I know the answer is no because I have felt better in the past. I have been stable and capable of emotions. I know the answer is no but it feels like it's yes. This depression is dragging on so long that I feel that this is as good as it gets and that I just have to deal with it. And how shitty is that? I mean seriously. Existing and living are not the same and right now I'm merely existing. I'm not living. This is not living. I go through the motions. I have no motivation, I have no drive. I don't want to get out of bed in the morning because the earlier I get up, the longer the day I have to struggle through.

And I don't know what more to do. I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing. I'm doing everything right. I started yoga though, to see if it would help. Nothing so far. I'm going to revamp my diet - again - to see it that will help. I'm going to go to the gym more often. I'm really pushing the positive affirmations. Listening to music I love. The weather was gorgeous yesterday so I spent time outside. I take my meds, have ECT, see my therapist and psychiatrist regularly, go to a support group, I have a loving supportive family and friends, and job I love . . . so what do I do?

No one knows the answer and so I'm stuck. Stuck feeling nothing.