Thursday 9/22/22 Anger

 I have been getting more and more angry with every passing day. Everything makes me mad. Even stupid little things that have no meaning . . . pissed off. I shouldn't be driving because of my rage - it's bad. If no one's in the truck with me I scream and cuss and cry. If someone is in the truck with me I'm able to bottle it up but then I lose it when I get home. This is becoming unbearable. Seriously. Everything is so overwhelming right now. Even simple tasks are hard for me to do. Like filling out my passport application. Apparently that's too much for me. I had to set it aside and walk away because I couldn't handle it. Even typing this out - I misspell something and I can feel the rage surging in me. Over a fucking TYPO!!! I can't even with myself. 

And this has been getting worse over the past week and a half. Every day worse. My depression is getting worse every day. I'm not really functioning. Everything is so hard. I don't know how I'm going to go to work on Saturday. I barely made it through Tuesday. I had to hide a lot. I feel so fucking bad. I cry at everything. I can't cope with anything. And I don't know what to do or how to handle this. The depression and anger is consuming me. 

I see Dr. Marciniak next Tuesday and Mike again next Thursday. Something has to change. I can't keep doing this. I can't handle this. I can't. As far as med changes go . . . there's not really anything we can do. The Caplyta is my 24th different medication. There's nothing left. Nothing to fall back on. I'm just . . . stuck. I'm going to call today to set up a consultation with a ketamine infusion clinic. Because I can't do this anymore. 

In other news, I still have no appetite. None. I don't care if I eat or not. I've lost 7 pounds in the past 2 weeks. Because I just. Don't. Care. I can eat something or I can starve. I don't care. Nothing sounds good. I've been living on toast. Literally. Because nothing sounds good and I truly don't care. I'm at the point where I want to throw in the towel. I want to give up. That would be easier. But I can't. I have to keep going for Jer and Ayden. Even though I don't want to, I keep pushing forward. And it sucks. I'm so tired. Probably going to go on intermittent FMLA. Because how the fuck am I supposed to work like this?

So. That's where I'm at. Hating life. Hating everything.  

Friday 9/2/22 Saw My Psychiatrist

 So I saw my psychiatrist this past Monday to talk about Lexapro's horrible failure at helping my depression. All the Lexapro did was increase my appetite so that over the 6 weeks I was on it I gained 10 pounds. Which just adds to the depression. Hooray. We agreed to stop it. And I talked to him about trying ketamine infusions. Which, to my surprise, he's for me trying it. With a catch. I guess. Kind of. He wanted me to wean off of Vraylar and start a new medication that's only been available for a short period of time - Caplyta. No one I know has heard of this medication. Of course not - it's brand new. So, he gave me enough samples of Caplyta to last me a month and I see him again in 4 weeks to see how I'm doing. 

I've taken the Caplyta 4 nights now and boy howdy am I groggy in the morning. I read through the information packet that came with the med and yeah. Sedation is the #1 side effect for it. And even though I'm taking it at night, the grogginess hits me in the morning and lasts several hours. I'm hoping this side effect will lessen with time. *Fingers crossed*

In other news, my depression is becoming more and more obvious. At work I try really hard to engage with others but I'm so withdrawn and flat. I'd rather be alone. I'm overall feeling more depressed as well, which sucks. Yesterday was particularly bad. So bad that I didn't volunteer (I was depressed, groggy, and felt like I was getting a cold). I remained depressed all day. I'm trying everything I can but nothing is helping. Hopefully this Caplyta will help. If not, hopefully ketamine will help. The sucky thing about ketamine is it's not covered by insurance, it's expensive (around $300 per treatment), and I have to have a ride home after each treatment. I don't know how that's going to work. Especially finding a ride. Because I don't want to rely on my mom for that. No, thank you. 

Anyway, that's about all that's been going on since last week. Now I want a nap.

Wednesday 8/17/22 Mom

 So I just got off the phone with my mom and to say she annoys me is a huge understatement. She really. Fucking. Annoys me. See, my mom is an alcoholic. Has been one since before I was born. No matter what happens to her, no matter what me or my brother say, she won't stop drinking and denies that she drinks at all (she could be drinking vodka from the bottle and tell you that she doesn't drink and she would believe that lie). I hate talking to her. Especially when she's been drinking. If I do talk to her, I try to do it before 10am because there's a little less chance that she's been drinking yet (yeah - she drinks all day and night). 

I've grown up around this so you'd think I'd be used to it by now, right? Wrong. It's a chronic, insidious type of trauma, one that compounds. Most of the time I'm angry/distraught/annoyed/saddened for awhile and it passes. Sometimes it takes longer. And sometimes I spiral, remembering my childhood. At any rate, it sucks. Big time. So I really try not to talk to her. And, unfortunately, she has no friends. No one she can talk to. Her and her husband fight all the time. Her own mother is succumbing to dementia. So what does that make me? Her therapist and friend. Her confidant. A role I DON'T FUCKING WANT. And a role that it's not fair to put me in. I'm not her fucking therapist but she treats me like one. I told her today that she should go to marriage counseling, that I couldn't help her sort out her marriage. She kept venting to me. And this is while she was sober - you can't even begin to imagine what it's like when she's been drinking. I just don't answer the phone anymore. 

I'm sick of listening to her and dealing with her. I really am. I want to cut her out of my life but I can't. She's my mom and I feel horribly guilty for feeling the way I do. Cutting her out would make me feel even worse. As much as I dislike her, she's still my mom. Even though she's toxic as fuck. So I space out when she talks to me, don't fully listen, turn my attention elsewhere. Because I just can't deal. Every time we talk it's all about her anyway. She rarely asks how I'm doing or how my hubby and son - her grandson - are doing. All she talks about is how horrible her life is and how much her and her husband argue. I don't fucking care. 

And I can't bring up her alcoholism because in her mind she doesn't drink and therefore denies it and gets all offended that I would say such a thing. I can't win. I can't fucking win.

In other news, I'm still horribly depressed. My Lexapro seems to be doing nothing. I wasn't terribly hopeful that it would do anything, but still, come on. Some days I have a hard time pushing through and I end up napping. When I'm asleep at least I don't have to deal with what I'm feeling. It's my only escape. I have no motivation for anything. I have things I need to do, things that I would like to do . . . but no motivation to get anything done. I mindlessly scroll social media or I sleep. That's what I do. And it sucks. 

I have therapy next week with Mike again, and see Dr. Marciniak in 2 weeks. We'll see what's next I guess. 

Monday 8/8/22 High School

 This morning I took the boy to his high school so he could pick up his schedule, new student ID, laptop, etc. It's hard to believe he's going to be a sophmore. 10th grade. He's driving, get's his official permit on the 17th . . . he's growing up. It's crazy. But in a good way. He's a good kid. A really good kid. 

Last night was my first night Pristiq free and on 20mg of Lexapro. So far I haven't had any brain zaps or other withdrawal symptoms, which is good. Hopefully I won't. And, now that I'm on the full 20mg of Lexapro, I'm hoping to start feeling better. Although, to be honest, I'm not all that hopeful. I've really been struggling the past several weeks. To where I don't just feel blah or down - I feel depressed. Like, legit depressed. To where I don't want to do anything. Just sleep. Or scroll social media, or stare off into space. It's not good. I hate that I feel this way again. I'm doing everything I can to NOT feel like this. I'm forcing myself to do stuff, even when I desperately don't want to. And I started my Emotional and Mental Mastery program again. I did it like 3 years ago, and it helped. So I figured why not start again? I'm 3 videos in and there's 133 videos, with homework and tasks to do. The only thing different this time is that I won't have the check up calls with Ty Hicks, the guy who created the program. I'm hoping it will help. I need something to help. I'm so tired of feeling like this. It sucks, royally. So I'm going to work the program again, take my meds, see Mike when I can, see Marciniak, do my Esteem Quest tasks (another program I'm doing to try and help with my confidence and self esteem), get enough sleep, eat healthier, exercise . . . what more can I do? I don't even know. I'm doing everything I can think of. 

I guess that's all I have today. Anything more will just be me venting about how I'm feeling. And I don't really want to do that. 

Tuesday 7/19/22 Trying Something Different

 Hey there. So, I saw my psychiatrist yesterday and we're going to try something different. He's weaning me off of my Pristiq, and slowly adding Lexapro. The weaning of Pristiq will take 3 weeks, to try and minimize withdrawal symptoms. During those 3 weeks I'll slowly increase my Lexapro dose until I'm at 20mg. Now, I've been on Lexapro before, but it's been about 14 years. So maybe it will work for me. Dr. Marciniak doesn't think the Pristiq is working anymore as I've been on it for 5 years now. We'll see. I start the titration tonight. I'm a little nervous because when I skipped a dose of Pristiq I had horrible withdrawal symptoms. Of course, I won't be skipping any doses, just slowly weaning myself off of it. But I'm still nervous. Fingers crossed this works.

I'm still feeling mostly down, with a little blah thrown in for good measure. Which is annoying. I still have no motivation for anything, though I managed to get a couple of paintings done today. Go me. I also have plans to work out, but I'm not getting my hopes up for that. I really just want to go lie down. And, knowing me, I probably will. 

I'm hoping to hear from Mike this week, so we can set up a therapy appointment, but I doubt I will. Maybe next week? I don't know. I'd just really like to be seen. I'm struggling. I'm doing stuff on my own, but I'm struggling. I joined a mailing list called "Esteem". Answered a loooong questionnaire about my views of myself, my self esteem, etc. It's run by psychologists and is supposed to help me gain confidence in myself, boost myself esteem, and help me change my negative narrative about myself. I get emails every 2 days with info in them and a task to complete. I'm hoping it will help. I'm also still doing ACOA work on my own. Which is hard. I'd love to have Mike's help with that. But instead I'm just floating along, trying to figure shit out on my own. 

Anyway, there's not really anything new. I'm tired, I'm depressed, I'm switching meds. That's about it. 

Friday 7/15/22 Estes

 It's Friday again and we're half way through July already. Crazy how fast time is flying by this summer. But still going so. Slow. 

I was supposed to see my psychiatrist this past Tuesday but had to reschedule for next Monday (the 18th). The office called me Tuesday about an hour before my appointment, needing to cancel because they had lost power to the building. The receptionist told me they were sitting in the dark, calling people, and canceling appointments for the day. Which is a bummer that I had to reschedule, but things happen. At least I don't have to wait too long. I'm not sure what good the appointment is going to do anyway. I went back down to 300mg on my Wellbutrin (from 450mg) because the urinary side effects were too much. I've tried pretty much every medication there is. So I have no idea what the next step is going to be. There might not be a next step - this might be it. I don't know. 

I've still been down/depressed pretty much every day. No motivation to do anything. All I want  to do is sleep or mindlessly scroll social media. Which I don't even really pay attention to. Sleeping is easier. I kept myself from going back to bed this morning, we'll see if I can keep myself from napping. 

The only reprieve from this was yesterday. Yesterday we (hubs, son, and I) went to Estes Park and went horseback riding. It was a gorgeous ride into Rocky Mountain National Park. Narrow, rocky trails, waterfalls, a river, beautiful mountain scenery . . . one of my favorite things to do, in one of my favorite places to be. While riding I was able to stay in the moment and enjoy myself. Not think about how I was feeling that morning or the past week. Just enjoy myself. Which was so nice. When the ride was done we walked around the shops in Estes Park and had lunch. It started pouring so we hunkered down in a candy shop until the storm passed (it was only like 15 minutes). It was refreshing. We finished touring the shops, got some ice cream, and headed back to the car. 

But my better mood didn't last long. After seeing some of the pics my hubby took of our ride I was shocked to see just how fat I still am. My mood really did plummet. I've lost 40 pounds, but I still would like to lose another 40. And those extra 40 pounds are definitely showing up in the photos. There's no denying it or hiding from it. And it makes me feel like a horrible failure. And I have, in fact, gained 5 pounds over the last few weeks. Which doesn't seem like much, but when you still have 40 to lose . . . well, a 5 pound gain can seem devastating. And for me it was. I'm so self conscious of how I look, even more so now. I think I was fooling myself into thinking I wasn't as big as I am and seeing the proof was a bit too much for me to handle. 

I'm trying to to better with my eating but have gotten pretty lax over the past several weeks. Couple that with no exercise . . . recipe for disaster. I started a 14 day "jumpstart" into changing my thinking around food, which will hopefully change my actions around it (I tend to emotionally eat and binge eat). And I paid for and am starting a program to change my thinking about myself. To love myself more and to have confidence in myself. I'm really hoping these two things help me. I need all the help I can get. And see, I keep thinking my depression wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't so heavy. If I lost weight and was able to love myself I wouldn't struggle so much. I don't know if this is true or not . . . but I'm thinking it is. And sadly, when I'm feeling how I have been feeling, I have no motivation to eat healthy or exercise. I eat junk because it gives me a dopamine kick and helps me feel slightly better for a moment (but lousy in the long run). And working out . . . it just seems like so much work. When all I want to do is sleep and hide away, the last thing I want to do is go to the gym where there are people (and no motivation makes it difficult to workout at home). 

So I'm just stuck right now. Hating my body, hating myself, depressed, no motivation, and generally doing poorly. And of course I work all weekend, so I get to hide all of this away so that I'm functional. Joy.

Tuesday 7/5/22 It's already July

Wow. July just kind of crept in there. Fast. This summer seems like it's flying by (but the days are moving slow as molasses - how is that possible?). Yesterday was the 4th, and I worked. Did 4 deliveries and it was a weird day. Just . . . weird. Today I'm off, I volunteer from 5:15 - 6:15pm. I don't feel like going, but I will. I haven't done anything today. Like, nothing. Unless you count listening to 2 webinars doing something (I don't). Well, laundry. I did finally start a load of laundry.

These past several days have been rough, mood wise. I've been more depressed, more down, more quiet, more withdrawn. And I hate it. It sucks. The increased dose of Wellbutrin seems to be having no effect except for my peeing issues. I still have a week before I see my psychiatrist again, but I'm pretty darn positive I'm going to drop back down to 300mg. I just don't know what more we will do. I don't know what else there is. Which is disheartening. And bleak. 

It's hard to go through the motions when all I want to do is hide away or sleep. I feel like I need to cry but I can't. I tear up, but, nothing comes. I think, maybe if I had an emotional release I'd feel better. But I just can't seem to do it. 

I'm trying to be proactive while I'm not in therapy (probably won't have a session until the beginning of August, maybe later). I read the book Perfect Daughters, which is a book about daughters of alcoholics. Wow did it hit home. And I'm doing a workbook for adult children of alcoholics. I'm just doing it slowly so as not to overwhelm myself. I listened to a webinar on becoming comfortable with being uncomfortable. And one on binge eating (yeah - I binge eat. I don't purge, but I binge). I'm trying to do things that will be helpful to me to heal my childhood trauma. Because maybe, just maybe, if I can move forward in this it will help my depression. And because it's something I just need to do. 

But I'm struggling. Really struggling. I'm beating myself up over being depressed. I'm beating myself up over binging yesterday at work (and every other time I binge). I'm beating myself up over everything. How I look, how I act, what I say, what I do . . . you name it, I'm probably beating myself up over it. Which, obviously, doesn't help at all on the depression front. I'm just so fucking miserable and I'm sick of it. I just want to be better. I want to be content and to experience happiness sometimes. I want to be free of self loathing. But I don't know what to do. I try to squash all of these negative thoughts when they come, which is difficult and exhausting. And they keep coming - they don't stop. 

And I'm tired of hiding my true self from everyone. I'm hiding my depression, albeit not very well right now. At work I've been quiet, withdrawn, and even standoffish. I can keep up a charade with my patients but am having a hard time with coworkers. It's so much work. And I'm tired. So very tired. 

I know all of my posts have been depressing as of late. But that's my reality. And, lets be honest, this blog gets like one view per post so . . . fuck it. I'm going to write what I feel like.   

Monday 6/20/22 Drowning

 I'm not really sure what I want to write about today. I'm feeling pretty down. I had all of the intentions of sleeping in today but was up at 6am (I actually woke up at 4am and laid in bed for two hours, trying to fall back asleep). I had an idea for a drawing so after breakfast I took my coffee downstairs with me to my studio and got to it. I spent 3 hours on it, between sketching and inking it. Then I took the dog on a short walk, showered, started laundry, and had lunch. And now, now I'm writing. I'm trying to keep myself busy so I don't have to deal with how I'm feeling. 

I'm at the "go-to-sleep-and-not-wake-up-until-I-feel-better" stage. Quite honestly I'm surprised at what I've accomplished today because I truly have no motivation. I forced myself to go on my walk. I didn't want to go. But I figured getting out of the house would be good for me. It didn't help. Nothing helps.

Last week - Tuesday - I saw my psychiatrist. He upped my dose of Wellbutrin from 300mg to 450mg - the max dose. I am an idiot for how I tried to go off of the Pristiq, and he's keeping me on it for now. I see him again July 12th to see how the increased dose is working. So far no change in my mood. Except I feel a wee bit more cranky. Irritable. Maybe that's a coincidence. We'll see. If there's no real change in my mood in a month I'm going to talk to him about going off the Pristiq. Maybe with one less antidepressant I'll have a greater range of moods. I don't know. Maybe I'm talking out of my ass. I just don't know what to do. And I'm tired of feeling this way. 

On the up side, I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow morning. I'm growing it out from a pixie cut (which is a long and arduous process), but it needs a trim desperately. I'm starting to get a mullet in back, not the look I'm going for. So at least that's something small I can look forward to.

I wish I could see Mike. It's only been two weeks since his surgery, so it'll be at least another 4-6 weeks before I can see him. I hate that. I wish it was sooner. But I have no choice but to wait. I need some support. I know he said if I needed anything to email him, but I don't want to be a needy burden. So I wait. 

I'm reading a book on adult daughters of alcoholics. And I have an ACOA workbook to work through. Fun times. But the book on adult daughters, Perfect Daughters, is spot on. It's like the story of my life. Which is scary and sad and infuriating and comforting all at the same time. Maybe, just maybe I can find some closure to this chapter of my life. As my mom continues to drive me crazy. It's in her head now that I'm her best friend and therapist and I'm going to help her through all life's obstacles. Fighting with her husband? Call Cami. Worried about grandma? Call Cami. Have a bad dream? Call Cami. Every. Little. Thing. I AM NEITHER YOUR FRIEND NOR THERAPIST. I am basically your estranged daughter who truly wants nothing to do with you. And I feel horribly guilty for feeling this way. But I have no real relationship with her. Talking to her is torture - especially since 99 times out of 100 she's drunk when she calls me. But I feel bad and guilty because I'm not a "good daughter". I don't know what to do. 

So that's where I'm at. Feeling like crap about everything and not having motivation to do anything. What a glorious place to be. I guess I could share the artwork I did this morning:

It's titled "Drowning". It's 8X10, watercolor and ink. Mostly ink. I like how it turned out. 

 

Tuesday 6/14/22 I'm An Idiot

You read that right - I'm an idiot. No really, I am. See, I got a wild hair up my ass and decided it would be a good idea to try and wean myself off of my Pristiq. I've been so blah and empty and non-feeling lately and, well, antidepressants can make you feel that way. Sooooo . . . why not try going off one of them? I tried going off Wellbutrin about a year ago because of side effects and my depression came back straight away with a vengeance. So that's a no go. My Vraylar . . . well, that's an antipsychotic keeping my mania at bay. So that leaves Pristiq. Now, I know I need to taper off slowly to avoid side effects. I'm on 100mg daily so I figured I'd just take it every other day for a week or so, then every 2 days, and so on. 

Yeah. Big mistake.

The day after I skipped a dose I had horrible withdrawal symptoms - brain zaps, dizziness, lightheadedness, headaches, and irritability. Let me tell you, it's not pleasant. At. All. Then I'd take a pill and the next day be fine. Skip a pill, withdrawal. Ugh. So I figured, why not just stop taking it all together? So I skipped 2 days in a row and let me tell you, that was hell. I worked Sunday (the day after skipping my second pill) and I was an emotional mess. I could hardly keep myself together. I was on the verge of tears all day, feeling depressed and low and awful. Brain zaps and other withdrawal symptoms were horrible. It sucked. I worked with my two best friends that day and they both reamed me for stopping medication without the help of my psychiatrist. Did I forget to mention that I did this on my own? Yeah. No input from my doc. And yeah - they were right. I was stupid in trying this myself. In listening to my sick, lying brain. But I did it. 

So Sunday night and last night I took my Pristiq. The withdrawal symptoms went away, I'm not completely, emotionally unstable. Which is good. But I'm back to blah and empty and non-feeling (although today I'm a little bit down). Which I hate. I want to be able to feel. I want a range of emotions. Not just blah, down, or irritable. So I see my psychiatrist today at 1440, and I'll talk to him about all of this and see what we can do. Because this has been going on since November of last year. Eightish months of feeling this way and I'm sick of it. I'm tired of just floating through life, barely participating, barely feeling. I want more than that. I deserve more than that. 

I am, honestly, nervous to talk with my doc today. Worried about what he'll say. Because I've been on so many medications and have done ECT and TMS already. I've tried everything but ketamine. And I'd prefer not to go there. But that may be all that's left. Or, maybe he can help me wean off of Pristiq in a way that I don't get the horrible withdrawal symptoms, and we can see how I am off of it. I don't know. I wish Mike (therapist) wasn't out on medical leave (he had major back surgery last week). I wish I could see him sooner than 6-8 weeks from now. It would help. So much. But it is what it is. I see my doc today and Mike in 6-8 weeks. Ugh. Wish me luck.

   

Wednesday 4/6/22 Therapy?

 I'm supposed to have therapy tomorrow morning at 0800. But now I'm not. Mike texted me this morning, needing to cancel and reschedule our appointment (he has a sick family member he needs to visit). Which is fine, I guess, except now I have to wait another 3 weeks. That will be 6 weeks between appointments. Which, I guess, isn't so bad. Right? It's not like I'm in crisis or something. But, truth be told, I was wanting that appointment tomorrow. Really wanting it. And now it's not for another 3 weeks. Which, let's be honest, kind of sucks. 

When I saw the text from Mike this morning my heart sank. I felt kind of crushed. I teared up. I probably would have cried if I was able to muster up any emotion. But I get it. Family comes first. I just wish it didn't make me feel so crappy. And I feel like I'm selfish for feeling this way. Which makes me feel guilty. Which makes me feel more crappy. And I'm having an off day anyway, which makes me feel crappy. And then I tried to paint and ruined a painting, which makes me feel crappy. It's all around a crappy day for me. Way to be negative, self.

Yesterday I had my first volunteering shift at the riding center. I'm a side walker right now, which means I walk along side the horse and help keep the rider stable, help keep him focused on the task at hand. The class was an hour long, from 1715 - 1815. Kind of late, but oh well. It was the only opening they had for a regular position on Tuesdays. And it was good. It was fun. At least, I say it was fun. In all actuality I'm numb and blah and withdrawn. It was better than I thought it was going to be, but I think I'm trying to convince myself that I had fun. But I got to smell the barn smells and scratch some horses and get some exercise . . . so that was good. And it's the only way I can get my foot in the door to hopefully do more with the horses (like mucking stalls and grooming). So that was yesterday. 

I'm still very much just going through the motions of life. No real joy or happiness or contentment. I feel hollow, empty, like nothing matters so why try. And it's a real shitty way to feel. I'm so sick of it. It's this constant low level depression that just won't go away. I'm unfeeling. I've been drawing and painting quite a bit, but I'm not getting pleasure out of it - I'm doing it to pass the time. It distracts me so I don't wallow in how empty and pointless I feel. I'm so hoping that being around horses again will help. Because I don't know what else to do. The only thing treatment wise I have left to try is ketamine - and I'd rather avoid that if I can. I hate feeling so numb though. Maybe I really do need to see Dr. Marciniak again, see if there's any med tweak we can try. I don't know. I'm pretty sure there isn't. Horses are kind of my last ditch effort. 

Anyway, I guess I should end this on a positive note, right? Not be so negative. So here's a couple of brush style horses I painted yesterday:

 

I really like this style. It's loose and freeing. We'll end with that. 

Thursday 2/24/22 Another Heavy Sigh Day

Two posts close together. Weird. 

On Monday (my last post), I didn't really feel like writing. But I did. At least a little bit. Today I feel like writing . . . but I don't know how much. 

I had therapy this morning and I don't really know what to say anymore there. I feel like I'm beating a dead horse. I'm bipolar, I have depression, this is what I feel like, these are the things I'm doing to combat it, blah, blah, blah. Over and over again. I feel as though I'm boring Mike - which is a stupid way to feel - but I can't help it. In the 8-9 years I've been seeing Mike we've gone over all of my trauma ad nauseum. There isn't anything new to discuss. No reason I should be feeling the way I do except that I'm bipolar. And in a depressive episode. Which, honestly, is frustrating. Because yeah - I feel like I'm boring and whiney and undeserving. I feel like I shouldn't be in therapy, like I should be able to figure this out on my own by now. 

But I can't.

And as much as I let on that there is hope . . . I feel kind of lost and hopeless. Because this keeps going on. I keep having episodes. And I will keep having episodes for as long as I live. And that's a very daunting future. Even though I had a year of "normalcy" it's like I can't remember what it was like. The depression is so consuming, even though it's not nearly as bad as it was in the past. I'm still struggling. Every. Single. Day. I'm struggling. Quietly. Undetectable to most people, I'm struggling. 

See, my depression isn't the obvious sobbing, suicidal crisis. I'm not having breakdowns every day. This episode is insidious and quiet and unrelenting. No, I'm not sobbing over everything. In fact, I can't cry. It doesn't matter what happens, I can't cry. There's nothing there. This episode has left me an empty husk. An unfeeling thing with such limited emotions it's as if I feel nothing. I'm dead inside. Hollow. There's nothing left. I'm just going about the motions of life, doing what needs to be done, doing the bare minimum because I have no drive, no motivation, no life inside of me. This is a horrible way to feel, to feel nothing. And I'm lost as to what to do. 

Mike thinks my medications are to blame. Maybe they are. They're keeping the mania at bay - and probably the worst of my depression - but I'm left numb. I'm left unfeeling. And, I guess, I should clarify: I can feel anger. Anger, resentment, annoyance, irritability. I can feel those emotions. But joy? Happiness? Contentment? Sorrow, even? No. Those emotions are out of my grasp. 

I describe it as feeling "blah" or "meh". I'm just existing. I don't get excited for anything. I'm getting a new tattoo next Tuesday and I'm all, "yep. Whatever." Like I don't even care. Which, I guess, I really don't. Being so empty it's hard to care. About anything. All I want to do is sleep. Sleep and not wake up until I feel better. So I nap. A lot. Because then I don't have to deal with not feeling. 

I'm doing everything I know to do to beat this. Exercising, eating healthy, painting, therapy, my meds, supplements, praying, singing along to music, putting on a happy face . . . you name it, I'm probably doing it. I don't know what else to do. What the fuck am I supposed to do??? I'm so tired of this, tired of fighting a war I can't win. 

I guess I'll call my psychiatrist. Talk to him about adjusting my meds. I don't know what else to do. 

Friday 12/3/21

 Well hello again. It's December. Which is pretty crazy. What's even more crazy is that we've had no snow here in Colorado Springs yet. I mean, we've had some flurries, but no real snow. Which is just weird. I don't mind not scraping off my truck every morning, but damn! We could use the moisture!

Anyway, I saw my psychiatrist yesterday and we are indeed going up on my Wellbutrin dose. From 150mg to 300mg. I'm hoping this helps as I've been doing everything else in my power to fight this stupid depression and it's just not enough. I was hoping it was the new supplement I was trying but after being off of it for a week I feel no difference. I'm going to stay off of it for now though, just in case.

Last night I was supposed to go to bible study. I did not, however, go. My mood was pretty crappy and putting on a mask for everyone didn't sound like a whole lotta fun. I messaged L, the gal who puts it on, and told her the truth as to why I wasn't going. I don't know her too well, so opening up about being bipolar and depressed was a little nerve wracking. I was met with empathy and prayers though. I still feel awful about not going, like I'm flaking out or something. Like I'm not reliable. Which, honestly, right now I'm not. 

I haven't done anything creative in a month. I have no motivation or inspiration. Mainly motivation - I can do art even when I'm not inspired. But no drawing, painting, or sewing. It's pretty sad. I've always loved spending time in my office and now I just don't want to. Which really sucks because art is such a good outlet for me. I go down there and just sit and stare off into space. I look at my unfinished projects and feel overwhelmed. I don't feel like I'm at a point where I can do anything. And it sucks. I want to create and I can't right now. 

In other news, I've decided to let my hair grow out a little. Not a lot - I don't want long hair - but a little. Right now I have kind of a shaggy pixie cut and I'm thinking a short, messy bob. It's going to take a while to grow out. It might take a year or more to get it where I want it. This is very daunting. I've grown out pixie cuts before and there's all these awkward stages in between. But I'm determined to grow it a bit and not cut it again because it's awkward and annoying. We'll see how this goes. 

Monday 11/29/21 It's Almost December

 It's crazy but true - it's almost December. I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving last week. Mine was . . . it was okay, I guess. We went up to hubby's aunt's house in Denver. There were lots of people and lots of good food. It's just that I was overwhelmed and depressed so . . . yeah. 

Feeling down seems to be the new norm for me. I'm hoping to change this, go back to feeling good, feeling like myself. I have a theory that I'm testing out: about a month and a half ago I started taking a new supplement called Female Factor. It's supposed to help with perimenopause and menopause symptoms. And I've been feeling down for about a month. I started wondering if maybe something in this supplement is causing it. I've had reactions to supplements before. So I've stopped taking it. Today is my third day without it. I haven't noticed anything so far. What a wonderful and simple fix it would be if the supplement were the problem! I'm giving it time, so we'll see.

I see my psychiatrist on Thursday this week. I'll have to give him the bad news of how I've been feeling. And I'm going to talk to him about going up on my Wellbutrin. Back up to 300mg. I don't want to have to, but if the supplement thing isn't the problem then I'll probably need to increase my dose, see if that helps. It's about the only thing we can do. There really isn't anything else out there for me to try. I've literally done it all. Well, I guess that's not true - I haven't tried ketamine. That's the only thing I haven't tried. And I really don't want to. 

Otherwise, I'm doing everything I can to overcome this. I've been going over my notes from the mental and emotional mastery course I did, I've been reading articles and watching videos from the Depression Project (which is a series of online "classes" designed to help you overcome depression). I'm doing a daily journal that is designed to help you think more positively. I'm doing everything in my power to beat this. To not let it get me down. Like this morning - instead of laying back down in bed (which is what I really wanted to do), I changed and got on the spin bike. I plan on going to the gym this afternoon. I'm doing everything I know how to do. Which is why feeling down right now is so frustrating. I'm fighting it tooth and nail and I'm still not feeling right. I'm at a loss. I don't know what else to do. 

In other news, we haven't put up our Christmas tree yet. I'll be honest - I don't really want to. We have to put it up downstairs as there's not enough room for it upstairs. So it's not like we'll enjoy it that much. I'd rather get a small tree (like 2-3 ft tall) and put it on the coffee table. But then, of course, it would block the TV probably. So that doesn't really work either. Maybe on the side table by the railing . . . we could move some stuff around and put it there. I just think that if we're going to put a tree up it should be in a location where we can enjoy it. 

Anyway, I'll stop rambling on for now. 

Monday 11/15/21 Look, it's Monday

 Well it's Monday. A new week. A new start. A new day. 

I'm off today, having worked the last 3 days (and of course I work tomorrow). I haven't done anything today except start laundry. I plan on doing the dishes as well, but I don't know if much else will get accomplished. I've been doing a lot of sitting and staring off into space. I have no motivation. Surprise! That's the story of my life right now. No motivation. Feeling down. Accomplishing nothing. 

I'm over it.

But I don't know what to do about it. I really don't. I'm trying, I really am. And I'm failing. Everything that I did in my mental and emotional mastery program . . . it's not helping. Thinking positively . . . not helping. Trying to change habits . . . not helping. Forcing myself to do things . . . not helping. Praying . . . not helping. I'm at my wits end. 

I'm supposed to see my psychiatrist in December. Maybe I should see him sooner. Maybe I should go back up on my Wellbutrin (I'm on 150mg - I used to be on 300mg). Maybe I should see my therapist. Maybe I should do all of this. And continue doing everything else. Throw everything I can at this. I'm tenacious. I'm not giving up. And I'm not going back to being depressed. I'm not. It's not an option. 

The past 4 days I've been a lifeline for a friend who's going through a rough patch. A really rough patch. She reached out to me and I've been trying to help her. Giving her words of encouragement, pulling her back from the ledge. She asked me about my sparrows and I sketched one for her which she got tattooed on her yesterday. She had a ketamine infusion today and is starting to feel a little bit better. Her trials remind me of what I've gone through in the past. And what I could potentially go through again. It scares me. I'm so glad I can be there for her though. It helps to have someone who understands. 

Today I'm down and flat. I just want to sleep. Take a nap until hubby gets home and we go to the gym. Because yeah, I'm forcing myself to go to the gym. I have to. I'll feel worse if I don't go. I'm trying to eat healthy again and count my macros. I'm trying to make working out a habit. I'm trying. 

Anyway, here's my friend's little sparrow:

Sparrows are a symbol of hope for me. I have a few tattooed on me, too. Hopefully this little sparrow can help guide my friend out of the dark. 

Tuesday 6/22/21 Two Weeks

 Wow. It's been two weeks since my last post. I meant to blog last week but just didn't get around to it. Maybe because there's nothing much exciting going on.

Work is still busy and we're back to mandatory floating again. Which sucks. I hate floating to other units. But the whole hospital is busy. In fact, most days we're at capacity. On all units. And there have been a lot of psych patients apparently because our nurses and CNAs are floating to be "sitters" (you basically "sit" in the patient's room and watch them if they're a risk to themselves or others). Great fun. Ugh. But you do what you gotta do I guess. It just sucks. 

My brain is still being an asshole on occasion. If I'm busy I seem to do okay. But when I have downtime I tend to trend downwards. I've had a couple days where I've been pretty down. Depressive symptoms. Which really annoys me. I'm fighting it as much as I can because I don't want to lose my foothold on stability. So I fight it. And sometimes fighting it means taking a nap. Sometimes I need to escape. 

I saw my psychiatrist today, I haven't seen him in 7 months. He's very happy with how well I'm doing. We're not changing any of my meds and I'll see him again in 6 months (sooner, of course, if I need to, but I'm hoping I don't). Being on the Wellbutrin I'm still having trouble peeing. I can pee, it just takes me a couple of minutes to start going sometimes (usually worse at night). Dr. M said that now I know what it feels like to be an old man with an enlarged prostate! Yes, I guess I can sympathize now. Ha! We had a good laugh over that. Although, that's something I'd rather not sympathize with . . .

Aaaaaand, I'm getting my next tattoo July 23rd! Hooray!! I'm so excited! I'm seeing a new artist (my old one can't be bothered to call me back). He's a little more pricey but I think he'll be worth it. His work is amazing. Soon I'll have a little chickadee on my forearm. I can't wait! I wish I was getting it sooner, but I guess I can wait a month (I really have no choice . . . ). 

On the weight loss front I seem to be stuck where I'm at. Nineteen pounds lost. I had started a new plan called G Plans and since I've been following it I haven't lost any weight. It's very frustrating. It has me eating quite a bit of food. Too much I think. I know it's supposed to "ignite my fat burning potential", but now I'm just stuck. For two weeks now. I'm thinking I might stray off of it and do what I was doing before - modified paleo diet, cutting refined carbs and sugars, and watching my calories. Admittedly, I need to move more. In some manner I need to be working out. I still haven't started my yoga app and I've slipped behind on my face yoga. Last week I did however use my spin bike twice. It's a start. I'll get there. I know I will. One way or another.  

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.  

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.  

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.