6/17/19

How to start . . .

I'll jump right in I guess.

I saw Dr. M today about my depression. And it went how I was fearing it would go. I should probably expand on that.

I told him how I've been feeling. Empty, depressed, hopeless. I told him it has been relentless and ongoing for the past 5 or so weeks. Before he could say anything I told him I'd prefer not to do ECT again. He looked at me for a full minute before speaking.

"You've been on practically every medication. And countless combos of those meds. All I can really recommend is ECT."

My stomach dropped. I don't know why though - that's exactly what I expected he would say. ECT. Electroconvulsive therapy. I did it for 3 years. Yes, I had improvement with it, but I also have had substantial memory issues.

"What about EsKetamine?" I asked.

"Well, there aren't any clinics in Colorado offering EsKetamine. It's too new, there's too much red tape, and it's too expensive," he replied. "You can try a regular ketamine infusion, but the cost for the 3 week treatment is around $2000 - $3000. It works for some people in the short term but it's pricey."

I felt even more defeated. Close to tears.

"You can try TMS (trans cranial magnetic stimulation). Studies have shown it to be effective, just not as much so as ECT. It's 5 days a week for 6 weeks, so you wouldn't be able to work probably. I can give you Dr. F's information if you're interested. See, it's just that you're treatment resistant and the best course of action for that is ECT. I'm sorry, I know that's not what you want to hear."

No, no that's not what I want to hear. I asked about Deplin, activated folic acid. He said I could try it but it probably wouldn't help. I asked about Rexulti. Again, it probably wouldn't help. It would replace my Vraylar and that med is the one that's helped me the most. So he would prefer not to stop it.

I'm stuck people. I don't know what to do. Do I take 6 weeks off from work and try TMS? Do I go back to ECT? Do I do nothing and wait it out, hoping the depression will lift of its own? The problem with waiting is that my depression tends not to go away on its own. It tends to hang around and get worse.

This is a bunch of bullshit, really. I don't know what to do. I cried in the parking lot, I cried while driving, I cried when I got home. I don't know what to do.

Fuck.

6/10/19

Well. I had therapy today. And I talked about my depression and my light headedness and tremors and work. And maybe it helped a little? I'm not sure. The fact still remains though that I'm depressed.

I have no motivation to do anything. I got home from therapy and wanted to go to bed. I didn't. I went downstairs and did a couple of sketches. I drew a sparrow and some flowers. Go me. All trying to not go to bed. I had lunch. I put dinner in the crockpot.

I want to go to bed. Just sleep. Sleep for eternity.

So I'm writing. I'm trying to distract myself, kill time. Not sleep.

But we all know what's going to happen, don't we? When I'm done with this I'm going to go lay down. Because I can't. I just can't. I can't deal with this unrelenting emptiness. I wish I could cry. I think I'd feel better if I could cry. But I can't. There's no emotion there. It's gone. I'm just so empty. Void. Blank. Numb. There's nothing there.

I can't fucking FEEL.

And it makes me so tired. It's hard to keep up the facade that I'm okay. Even that I'm marginally okay witch is what I've been doing.

I can't do this.

I see Dr. M on the 17th. I know he's going to suggest ECT, which I can't do. I can't. My memory is jacked enough. Maybe ketamine. I don't know. I'll find out I guess.

Anyway, it's time to go lay down. /end rant 

12/24/18

Wow. It's been awhile since I've written anything. Two weeks. And it's Christmas eve. Although it doesn't feel like Christmas at all. No, it just feels like any other day. Can't say I've gotten into the Christmas spirit this year. I pretty much blame my depression for that.

I had a therapy appointment last week. Ended up crying in therapy and then crying myself to sleep that night. Always so much fun.

I've been about the same as I was in my last blog post. Hovering just below the surface, unable to really feel much of anything except negative emotions here and there. There is a change though, I have been able to feel some positive emotions. They're not strong, and they're not long lived, but they have been there. I'm so thankful for that. Because I'm truly drowning here.

Now today, today I have been weird. I keep fluctuating between being mostly okay to being an anxious ball of worry. Why? Well, for one, it's Christmas eve which means church. I'm going to throw out there that I hate church. I feel like such an outcast there. I get nothing from the sermons. And all of the sit-stand-kneel, sit-stand-kneel is annoying as hell. My hubby goes every Sunday (he's Catholic, I'm . . . nothing) and he takes our son. I'm kind of the black sheep I guess. But I go with him Christmas eve if I'm not working. And I don't like it. And there's so many people and I don't do well with crowds. But I go. I just most certainly don't look forward to it. Quite the opposite - I dread it.

Here's the other thing. Hubby is in a men's group at the church and one of the guys invited us over to dinner tonight. And we're going. Why is this a problem? I won't know anyone there. For an introvert this is a nightmare. The longer I deal with this depression the more introverted I become - even around people I know. I'm quiet, I fade into the background. And let's be honest - I think I've forgotten how to have fun. I don't know what to talk about. I don't remember hardly any good stories about my work and the other main topic of my life is my bipolar disorder (which I don't really want to talk about with strangers). I don't know how to make conversations. I don't know how to engage people. I've bought 3 books on the subject but haven't even made it through one yet.

So I'm anxious. Anxious about church, anxious about this dinner party. And I feel overall down. I wish I didn't have to deal with this. With the anxiety, the depression, the bipolar, with myself.

I hope to god there will be alcohol there tonight. 

11/6/18

Would you look at that! I blogged yesterday and I'm blogging again today. It's not very often that that happens. I usually have at least a couple of days in between.

Anyway, hubby asked me something last night that I really didn't know how to answer. I actually, kind of, well, lied. Only kind of though. I didn't totally lie, I guess. Of course, kind of lying is probably the same as regular lying when you really think about it.

So. Yeah. Hubby asked me if I had any optimism towards the future. And I answered him yes, not all the time but sometimes. The truth? The truth is that I really don't have any optimism towards the future. Well, maybe there are rare instances where I do. That's why my answer was only kind of a lie.

Him asking me that got me thinking though. How do I really feel about the future. I thought about it all night. I've been thinking about it today. And my view of the future is just so damn negative. It's hard for me to see any good in the future. And the sad thing is that I have an amazing husband, a wonderful son, and awesome friends, all of whom love me and care deeply about me. But all I see is chaos, depression, and uncertainty in my future.

See, I get to worry about all of the "normal" things (work, bills, retirement, the house, etc), but my bipolar disorder blows everything out of proportion and I overthink it to the extreme. Then I have to worry about my bipolar disorder itself (will my meds keep working, am I going to get worse, how will my memory be, will I eventually kill myself). This is all very depressing and exhausting and one of the reasons I try not to even think about the future. I try to stay in the present moment, in the here and now. It helps me get through my worst days and it helps keep good days good.

But seriously though. How horrible is this to have such a dreary outlook on the future? And I try not to! I really do! I try so hard to counter my negative thoughts with positive ones (in every aspect of my life), but it just doesn't seem to stick. My positive thoughts aren't strong enough to overpower the negative. I think that's just how I'm built. I think negativity is ingrained in my personality, which makes everything so much harder.

So. There you go. My "kind of" lie. 

10/17/18

There's something that worries me that I've been thinking more and more about. Something that keeps me awake at night. Something that my mind keeps creeping back to over and over. Something that, no matter how hard I try, I keep ruminating over.

I'm wondering what's going to happen with me in the future. And I'm not talking about in the next year or two - no. I'm talking 10 or more years from now. I'm thinking about where will we be living, will I still be working, where will I be working, will A still be living at home . . . I think about do J and I have enough for retirement, are we still going to be renting, or will we own a house at that point?

All valid points to think/worry about. But then I also worry about how much worse my bipolar is going to be. And if I'm actually going to make it another 10 years dealing with this illness. I look at how I am now, and how I feel like I'm failing. I look at my memory issues I have now and how those are getting progressively worse. I look at how I struggle. I look at how frequently I have suicidal thoughts and I worry. I worry that I'm not going to make it. I worry because one of the things that keeps me going is knowing that I could end it at any point . . .

What a horrible thought.

But it's true.

I worry about losing my job. We can't afford not to have my income and it's through my job that we have health insurance. Without health insurance we can't afford my medications let alone my ECT treatments. What would I do then? Not to mention that my job gives me a sense of self and a sense of purpose.

I'm not even sure how to write about all of this. About how much I worry. I don't think I can adequately get it out. It's jumbled up inside my head, whirling and twirling and jostling for attention, taking up so much space and energy and driving me batty.

I've been sitting here staring at the screen for about 10 minutes, trying to think of something else to write, something else to say. But I can't think of anything. My mind is a mess right now. Hell, my mind is a mess most of the time. Today though, it's particularly bad. Oh well. I guess this will do for now. 

9/17/18

I'm not feeling good today. Not physically, but mentally/emotionally not good. Which is especially annoying because I've been stable for almost 3 months now.

I think I know partially what's going on. See, I'm really feeling like a failure right now. In pretty much every aspect of my life. Home, work, personal . . . you name it, I feel like a failure.

Let's start with home life. Since I only work two days a week, I feel that it's my responsibility to keep up the house. You know, clean, do laundry, make dinners, all that fun stuff. Well, I don't. Not like I should, anyway. I cook on the nights that I don't work, and I keep up with laundry pretty good . . . but the rest of the cleaning . . . not so much. I feel it should be done once a week and I'm more of a once every 2 or 3 weeks kinda gal. And recently this has been making me feel bad but I still can't seem to get off my ass and do it.

Fail.

Along with home life comes sex. We'll just lump it right in there, why not. Let me tell you a little something about being on high doses of antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and antidepressants: they take away your sex drive. Not only that, for the most part they've taken away my ability to have an orgasm. So, not only do I not want to have sex, I can't enjoy it when I actually do. I mean seriously, wtf. So this makes me feel awful for my hubby, who is still very much interested in love making. The solution? Let's be honest - there's not a good one. I give him blow jobs. It gets the job done but it's just not the same.

Fail.

Let's look at work. I have a good job. I'm an RN at a busy birth center. I help bring new life into this world. I actually really love my job. So what's the problem, you ask? I have my bachelors degree in nursing. I've thought about getting my masters and becoming a nurse practitioner. Either in neonatal or psychiatry. My problem is that since I've been doing ECT I can't retain any new information. I read something, and the minute I close the book it's gone. I don't remember it. There's also the added pressure and stress that would come with going to school and then with the new position that could potentially trigger an episode. As if that wasn't enough, right now we have several nurses on my unit getting their masters, one of them being one of my very close friends. This, honestly, makes me feel like crap. It makes me feel like such a failure because I can't do it too.

Not only that, I'm only working part time. I work two 12 hour shifts a week instead of three. I had to go part time almost 4 years ago because of my bipolar disorder, which had a huge impact on us financially. So much so that we lost our house. Our house we had built from the ground up and loved. We lost it because of me. And now, since I'm still only working part time, we probably won't be able to afford to buy another house. I feel like I should be doing more. I'm stable now, I should go back to full time. Everyone tells me no, don't do it, but I should be contributing more.

Fail.

How about my personal life. I lost several friendships due to my illness, and while I'm mostly over that, sometimes it still hurts. But let's talk about the present. I have my hubby and 2 good friends. That's it. I have my coworkers, but I don't hang out with them. I feel awkward and weird around them. I've been trying so hard lately to start conversations with them, join in conversations with them, to show interest, to be involved but I feel as though I don't fit in. I feel like an outsider. I feel as though I'm held at arms length. I also feel like my hubby doesn't have friends because of me. I mean, we lost all of our mutual friends thanks to me. But, I always wonder if he doesn't do things with former friends or make new friends because he's worried about me. That sounds very egotistical, I know, but I know he worries about me. So maybe he doesn't go play disc golf because he worries about me being alone.

Fail.

One last thing to wrap this up: my weight. Thanks to my meds I've gained around 80 pounds in the past 2-3 years. I feel so horrible and self conscious because of this. I feel disgusting and unattractive and tired and gross. I've been trying to lose weight and it doesn't come off. How does that make me feel? You guessed it - like a failure. I'm now seeing a dietitian and trying a new approach but I'm less than optimistic.

Fail.

All of this has been swimming around inside me for awhile now but really just came to a head today. I don't know why. But I hate it and I hate the way it's making me feel. I've been tearing up all day, feeling like I need to cry but I just can't. Maybe my hubby can talk some sense into me. One can hope. 

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?  

Bothering Me

I have a feeling this post is going to be random and all over the place and not make much sense and you can thank my ECT for that as it's taken away my ability to write eloquently. No, I'm serious. I've been doing ECT for 2 years now and since I started my ability to write has slowly dwindled. I had a different blog where I wrote about my bipolar and my writing was magical at times. It was moving and gripping and drew you in. I wrote poetry. Writing came naturally to me. Now I struggle to write a few sentences about my day. The words get jumbled up in my head until I can hardly make sense of them. They come out all wrong and out of order sometimes. I misuse metaphors and symbolism (or at best I use them poorly). I struggle through each blog post, knowing that they are dry and boring.

Why does this matter? Because I want to write a book. I want to write a book of how it really is to have bipolar disorder. I want it to be witty and funny and heartwarming and real. I want to bring humor into even the shittiest of times. I want people to laugh and cry and learn something about bipolar disorder. And I feel that now, with my inability to write, I'm not going to be able to do this.

To top all of this off, the ECT has taken away my memories. Not all of them - but a lot of them. There's so much my hubby brings up that I just can't remember. My childhood, my son's childhood . . . gone. I forget how to get places - places I've to hundreds of times. I'm trying to learn Spanish - I'm not retaining any of it. Studying for my BLS re-certification - nope. It doesn't stick. Memory loss is a side effect of ECT, I just didn't expect it to hit me so hard. And most likely this memory loss is permanent because I've been doing ECT for so long (and my psychiatrist doesn't see me stopping anytime soon . . . or ever).

All of this is very frustrating. I guess that's it. It's taken me over 30 minutes to write this.