Wednesday 1-6-21 Tattoo Day!

 And just like that it's the new year. 

I skipped a week in blogging, though I doubt any of my 1-2 readers will have noticed. But yes! It's 2021 already! This past year has been the slowest yet quickest year ever. It's been weird and awful and sometimes wonderful. I've been stable and happy for 6 months - a huge feat for me! And I don't see that going away any time soon. 

So what's been going on . . . not much of anything really. Christmas was very low key - we did presents and dinner with my mother-in-law, and that was about it. For New Years I was in bed by 9:30 - I worked New Years Eve and New Years Day so no staying up late for me. Speaking of work, I've been working full time for a few weeks now and it's going great! (The extra money is nice, too!) But for the most part things have been pretty boring and status quo, which is fine by me (who needs drama anyway??). 

One fun thing of note is that I'm sewing again! Got my sewing machine up and running, bought fabric and thread and stuff and set about making my plush zombies again. I thought it would take me a while to figure out how to sew again, but muscle memory is a wonderful thing - it's almost like I never stopped! (I'm a bit slower sewing right now but I'm sure I'll pick up speed soon). Yesterday I sewed a plush zombie rabbit and he's not too shabby for my first plushie in 5 years. I'll be sewing more and my zombies will be going up for sale in my Etsy shop. I'm excited about this! And it gives me something more to do (because painting wise I've been feeling a bit uninspired). 

But now the really fun thing . . . I'm getting a new tattoo today!! I'm so excited and a little bit nervous. It's been a long time since I've gotten a tattoo (this one will be my 14th tattoo). It will be 2 magpies in flight -  two for joy - and will be on my right forearm. The tattoo, of course, is of a painting I did:

Most of my tattoos are my own artwork, which of course gives them more meaning to me. I happen to love magpies (all corvids, really, but especially magpies). Two magpies together represent joy - and I've been especially joyous since I've been stable and happy. This tattoo represents that joy and stability as well as my love of the bird. Aack! I can't wait! Noon today. An hour and twenty minutes from now. Don't worry - I'll share a pic of it in my next post. 

Anyway, that's about it. I hope everyone is having a great week so far and I hope 2021 is a better year for us all.

Tuesday 8/25/20 Wow

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

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

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

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

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

3/22/19

Well. I'm having a bit of a rough go of it today. Which is annoying. My mood is down - not depressed - but down. And all because my brain is an asshole and won't shut up. My brain likes being an asshole, and it's good at it. Too good at it. What's it doing . . .?

I was getting ready this morning and happened to really look at myself in the mirror. I look at myself in the mirror all the time but this morning . . . this morning was different. I was immediately filled with self loathing. I could see every flaw, every wrinkle, every fold of fat. I could see it all. The bags under my eyes, the dull grey color of my eyes, how my hair was just laying there, no volume, no real style. How ugly and fat I was.

You look hideous. You look old and worn out. You're fat. Are you even trying to lose weight because it looks like you're gaining more. You're so frumpy. You have no sense of style. How does Jeremy even still love you? Ayden is embarrassed by you. You have wrinkles every where I can see your pores you don't do anything with your hair look how your stomach hangs you look pale I'm surprised Jeremy hasn't leftyouyou'reworthlessyouhavenothingtogivewhydon'tyoujustkillyourself . . . . . .

All of the negative thoughts started running together. It was hard to even separate them. My eyes welled up with tears as I stood there looking at myself and listening to my brain barrage me. I couldn't move. I was frozen there, trying my best not to cry because Ayden was in his room next door. I didn't want him to hear me.

Even 6 months ago this would have gotten to me. This would have hit me hard. Now, that's not to say that it didn't hit me. On the contrary. My mood went south in a heartbeat. But the difference between now and 6 months ago is now I'm stable. Now I know how to counter these thoughts and practice self care. And that's what I did. I countered these thoughts. I told myself that I was beautiful in and out. That even though I was overweight and not where I want to be that didn't make Jeremy love me any less. And you know what?

It kind of helped.

That sounds stupid, doesn't it? I'm sure you were waiting for me to say that it worked. That I went about my day feeling happy with no more negative self talk. But that's simply not true. That's, sadly, not how my brain works. It has been barraging me with negative comments all day. So much so that I feel mentally exhausted. But I'm countering them. I'm keeping myself from going deeper. I'm writing about it in hopes that this will help.

Six months ago I would have felt like shit. Today I feel down and worn out, but definitely not like shit. So I'd say that's progress.    

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.

8/24/18

It's been almost a month since my last post. I find that it's harder for me to write when I'm feeling good.  And that's how I've been feeling - good. I'm stable, I'm even happy. It's weird to be feeling this way and it seems to be a little weird for the people around me (hubby mentioned he's not quite sure how to act with me being "normal"). I've had coworkers and friends tell me that I'm acting like my old self, which honestly, is nice to hear.

So what am I writing about today? I'm happy and doing well, so what, really, am I writing about?

Well, let's just say that being stable and well isn't all it's cracked up to be. To put it bluntly, I don't know what to do with myself. I really don't. I have more time during the day to do things since I'm not crippled with depression and I don't know what to do. It also doesn't help since I seem to have developed the habit of procrastination. I procrastinate and procrastinate, putting things off until I have no time to do them and then I have to come up with excuses as to why I didn't get shit done. This only happens when I'm at home mind you, I don't do this at work.

Let's take today for example. Rather than get up and workout, which is what I had planned to do, I laid around in bed. Uh oh! It's time to take my son to school, guess I can't workout. When I got home from taking Ayden to school, I had coffee and perused Instagram for a little bit. Only "a little bit" turned into an hour and an hour turned into an hour and a half. No! I need to clean the bathrooms! And do the dishes! And work on a drawing!

So what did I do?

I went upstairs and laid down for "a few minutes" (like half an hour). The only reason I woke up is because my hubby texted me. Okay. I gotta clean. But I don't want to and I'm coming up with every excuse as to why I can't do it today. I had this overwhelming feeling of NOT wanting to get it done. But I cleaned. And I congratulated myself on getting it done (even though I did a shitty job). And then I showered instead of cleaning the second bathroom. I made excuses. And hey - it was already 11:30 and I hadn't even showered yet!

But I didn't want to shower. And I didn't want to shave or wash my hair or put on makeup or do any of those things at all. I wanted to go and lay back down and take yet another nap.

Why the fuck is it I just want to sleep?? Instead of drawing or painting or reading or working out or  watching TV. All I want to do is sleep. Every day I'm off I take a nap and I will purposefully NOT do something so that I can sleep. This to me doesn't seem normal. This seems like depression behavior but I'm not depressed. I don't like it. I want to do the things I used to love like painting and reading. I want to be able to clean the house without constantly coming up with excuses not to do it.  I want to be able to actually work out and not just say I'm going to. Tomorrow.

Seriously! I don't know what my problem is! What's wrong with me? Why can't I just get shit done like normal people do?? I guess I'll be exploring this with my hubby and therapist instead of hiding it and making excuses.

6/14/18

I had therapy today, and I of course managed to cry, even though I was trying not to. I was telling Mike about how I've been feeling and about what Dr. M told me on Monday.

How I've been feeling: If I'm not feeling down and depressed, hopeless and pointless, I'm feeling like an empty, emotionless husk. I'm flat. I'm just going through the motions. I'm existing - not living. It's a horrible way to feel. It's like life is passing me by. I'm just observing, I'm not participating. I hate it.

And Dr. M told me that this is what stability looks like for me. I'm not having many big swings either up or down and that this is probably as good as it gets for me. How awful is that?? Yes, I'm mostly stable, but it's left me feeling completely flat lined and emotionless. That's no way to be. It's not how I want to feel.

But I don't know what to do. And Mike? He doesn't know what to do either. I told my hubby about this today and he was stumped as well. Why? Because I'm doing everything right. I'm doing everything I should be doing. And I still struggle. It's a bunch of bullshit.

Bullshit.

I'll keep doing the only thing I know how to do - keep plugging along. It's the only thing I can do. Keep trying to find happiness or joy or contentment or something wherever I can. Because if I can't find little snippets of that . . . well . . . I'm really fucked. So I'll keep plugging along and trying. 

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. 

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.

2/5/18

I'm sitting here on my couch as I write this, wishing I was in bed, asleep. I'm not tired, mind you, I just don't want to deal with how I'm feeling. See, sleep is like death but without the commitment. Though I'm longing for the commitment . . .

I'm feeling so empty and drained and hollow, like the husk of who I should be. There's just this void inside me where everything should be. I'm going through the motions of life without really feeling anything. I've been rather flat and withdrawn lately, although I'm trying desperately not to be. And I think I'm putting on a good show as everyone around me thinks I'm doing okay.

If only they knew . . .

The funny thing is is that I wouldn't necessarily call myself depressed right now. I'm not quite like how I usually am when I get depressed. Perhaps I'm on my way there, I don't know. This is more of a "confused-hanging-in-limbo" state. I have some symptoms of depression but I also seem rather stable still. Like, I want to die, but I know that's just my brain lying to me.

I don't know what to do with this state though. Nothing is enjoyable to me. Not reading or painting or writing . . . I don't want to do anything except lay in bed.

Jeremy says I do this. That I'm stable for 3-4 months and then I drop into a depression for several weeks to a month or two despite what meds I'm on, despite my ECT. Maybe he's right. Maybe this is just my natural pattern. Maybe I'm not in full blown depression because of the new med I'm on. I have no clue. All I know for certain is that I hate feeling like this. Why can't I be manic every 3-4 months? I call bullshit on this. Why can't I just be manic at all??

Despite any of this, all I know is that I'm struggling right now, regardless of what people think.

1/23/18

Things have been weird lately. All around strange and I don't really know what to make of it. See, I've been stable now for 78 days. Can you believe that?? Seventy eight days with no depression or mania. My mood has been even. Normal. I've been normal.

And I don't know what to do with myself.

No really. I don't really know how to be normal anymore. I've been depressed or rapid cycling for so long that normalcy is foreign to me. Yes, even though it's almost been 3 full months.

I feel lost. I feel awkward. I feel like I'm learning how to interact with people all over again. And this is difficult because I'm still withdrawn. I'm trying not to be. I'm trying to put myself out there, chat with coworkers, ask questions, actively listen . . . but I still find myself being withdrawn, stumbling over my words, and feeling like a buffoon.

Large gatherings of people (more than, say,  4-5) make me uncomfortable and make me withdraw more. I feel like curling up in a ball and disappearing. It's hard for me to open up and interact in situations like this.

New situations confuse, frighten, and overwhelm me. I have the opportunity to go to a conference for free - I just have to volunteer some of my time. The thought of volunteering terrifies me. So much so that I'm not going.

I feel that through the course of my illness I've fundamentally changed. I'm not who I used to be. And I hate that.

And even though I'm stable there are still some, I don't know what to call them, bad things happening? I still hallucinate every day. Sometimes a lot, sometimes a little, but always every day. I'm still having suicidal thoughts most days that I have to fight and counter. I still want to cut and I have.

But who knows. Maybe this is just how I am now when I'm stable. A withdrawn, frightened, overwhelmed girl who hallucinates, cuts, and contemplates her own death.

I'll be honest, I'm not sure this is who I want to be. But I'm not really sure how to change. it. 

12/8/17

It's been about 4.5 weeks now that I've been on the Vraylar. Four and a half weeks of feeling "normal", of feeling "good". I've had a couple of dips though. Last weekend, Saturday, I cut. I was feeling down, off, not right. And I cut. Sunday I felt the same but I tried to hide it and play it off.I had an instance where I went downstairs and got on the spin bike to keep from screaming and destroying things. I ended up crying. Monday I had ECT and therapy and I was definitely off - but that's probably more the ECT than anything else.

The more I think about it though, the more I think I've truly been off all week. Just not feeling myself this week. A little down but not really - I don't feel depressed. I just don't feel like me. I'm hyper sensitive, quick to anger and just off. I don't know how else to describe it.

Yesterday and today all I want to do is stay in bed and hide away and sleep. Not be bothered by anyone or anything. I think hubby is a little worried as he's noticed it.

I'm hoping this means nothing. I'm hoping this is just a little blip in the big scheme of things feeling better. Because I deserve to feel better. So I'm trying not to let it worry me. I see Dr. M on Monday and will talk to him about it.

In the meantime I'm going to try not to worry and try to be "normal".

12/1/17

It's December 1st and I believe I've been "stable" or "normal" for around 24ish days. Yay! It honestly feels so good to feel like myself again. In the throws of my last depression I didn't think it was possible. But here I am, feeling good and feeling "normal".

Today happens to be the anniversary of my dad's death. 17 years. I didn't think it would affect me but I've almost broken down several times today. I miss him so much. Hubby and I are going to go out for dessert to celebrate him.

Also, I've been more focused on working on my book. I didn't realize that I started it in 2013. Damn girl, get your shit together and write. I am. slowly. I'm still trying to figure out which direction I want it to take as it will have my artwork as well. I'll get there.

That's all I have right now, just a quick update.

7/5/17

I get my best thoughts/ideas in the shower. Does this happen to anyone else? But then I sit down to write them and *poof* they're gone. Which is frustrating to say the least.

I've still been feeling off. Still been feeling empty and flat and withdrawn and fake and exhausted and done with everything. Only it seems to be getting more pronounced. More . . . pressing. See, I feel like this husk of a person. On the outside I look normal, functional, whole. But on the inside there's nothing there. The bits and pieces that are supposed to make you human are missing. I don't really feel anything, except for anger. Something that should make me happy leaves me sitting there feeling nothing and empty with a painted on smile so I don't alert anyone to what's really going on.

But I'm not depressed.

That's the thing. I don't feel like how I do when I'm depressed. No. I'm stuck in this no man's land of nothingness where I can't feel real emotions. (except for anger - I can feel anger like nobody's business).

I don't know what to do with this. Hubs says I get like this sometimes and it passes. My psychiatrist says it's part of being bipolar and hopefully I'll come out of it. But it's been awhile y'all. Five or 6 weeks. And it's not getting better, it's getting worse.

All I want is to have a normal range of emotions! Is that too much to ask for?! (I mean apparently it is because I can't seem to get there).

I don't like feeling like this. It's like I'm missing out on my own life. I'm a bystander. I'm on the sidelines, watching everything pass me by. This is no way to live.

6/27/17

I've had an okay day today. I've actually had a pretty decent week. There's been nothing exciting, nothing note worthy . . . but I've been doing okay. We joined a new gym. The Y (I get a discount through my hospital - half off monthly dues). Yesterday I met with a personal trainer for an evaluation. She asked me all sorts of questions about working out and eating habits, etc, and did a body composition analysis. I found out I'm 46% fat. Ugh. How horrible is that?! She then did a mini workout with me and showed me different equipment and gave me ideas for future workouts. Then I did a workout after. Go me!

Today I was able to get up early and go to the gym and do a decent workout (which is unlike me - I've been slacking off big time lately). I was pretty proud of that. Did some artwork today (I've been slacking off big time with that, too), and even got reading done and a short nap. Not too bad.

The past couple of days I haven't felt as flat or withdrawn. I've felt more . . . human. I'm hoping this keeps up. Wouldn't that be nice?

6/20/17

I've been doing this thing where I'm not depressed but I'm not really happy either. It's like, low level depression or something. Where I feel withdrawn, unmotivated, flat, and standoff-ish. There's a definite difference between this and depression. But there's also a definite difference between this and feeling good.

See, the days where I'm feeling good are few and far between. And I notice the difference. I even think to myself, "hey, I'm feeling good today!" My mood is effortless, I get more accomplished, I have motivation to do things. I interact more with people and I don't have to think about it. I wish I could feel like this every day

But what I've noticed, since I haven't been in full blown depression, is this grayness around me. It consumes me and follows me and makes everything difficult. Remember now - I'm not depressed. It's just this . . . fog that's everywhere. I wake up in the morning and I know I need to get up to workout. But I have no motivation so I lay in bed for up to another hour. I finally get up and get changed but I sit on the floor and stare at my shoes for 20 minutes before putting them on and finally working out. If I'm at home I don't do much - I have no motivation, I don't care, what does it matter anyway? If I'm at work I have to force interactions with coworkers as it's my natural inclination to hide and avoid and ignore. I feel a little down, I'm flat, withdrawn, and often snippy. I just don't feel good. I'm okay, I guess. I can function and get through my day, but not much brings me joy or makes me feel happy. I lie and pretend so others don't know. I also often find myself questioning life and its meaning - you know, why should I draw or paint? I'm just going to die anyway. (not a fun line of thinking).

I talked with my psychiatrist about this and he said that it's just part of bipolar disorder and that hopefully I'd come out of it - but that there was a chance that this is my new normal. That this is how I feel when I'm stable. How fucking shitty is that? Because this is draining. This is tiring. And it is not okay to not be okay.

I don't know what to do with this other than continue to push on. Continue to be stubborn and make my was as best I can. It really royally sucks though.

5/1/17

I don't have much to write about today, there's not much going on. Really. It's pretty boring.

Today is day 5 on metformin and day 4 on my new probiotic. These two things make me hopeful that I can lose some weight. I've been consistently working out and I feel good about that. I'm eating better and avoiding all of the yummy snacks in the break room at work (go me! They're my weakness). I colored my hair today so it's a little bit darker. Not much, but a little.

My mood has been stable. I've had "normal" changes in mood (as opposed to more extreme bipolar mood swings), so I call that a win. Hopefully my stability will last longer than 4 months (my current record).

That's really all for today. I don't feel like writing.

4/26/17

Well I had my appointments today, one with my therapist and one with my psychiatrist. They both went well.

I went into therapy wanting to talk about my apparent inability to accept my diagnosis of bipolar disorder. And we talked about this, and how I can accept it when I'm not in a mood episode but once I am in an episode, BOOM! I no longer can accept I'm bipolar. Everything becomes unfair, I can't possibly do this again, etc, etc. We discussed ways I can try to work my way around this, even though this thinking will surface most likely with every episode I go through (that's just the nature of depression).

We also talked about things I want to change and what I can do to change them, and the good things in my life. All of this was to remind me that I'm more than my illness, a fact that I often forget (especially with my most recent depressive episode).

Then came my appointment with Dr. M, for which I was nervous. We started by talking about my ECT, and how I'm doing with every 4 weeks and I told him about my recent depression. He seemed a little exasperated and told me that my case of bipolar is on of the most difficult and stubborn cases he's treated. He said it's obvious that we can only manage my episodes and try to keep them to a minimum but I will never be symptom free. I'll also probably never be free of ECT. Oh well. I then asked him about metformin for weight loss. I explained that over the last 10 months I've gained 50 pounds  thanks to my meds and have been exercising and eating well and can't seem to lose any. Surprisingly he looked it up real quick, agreed that it might prove beneficial and wrote me a prescription. I was surprised by that, honestly. I figured he'd be a no go on the metformin but he was all for it. Fingers crossed it works!

Mood wise I've been pretty okay today, even, stable. And that's good! I was that way yesterday too. Hopefully this will continue, that would be awesome.

Another Day

I had therapy today and I was glad that I had therapy today until I actually got to therapy. Why? Well, it was hard to talk. I felt really withdrawn and flat, like I didn't want to interact at all. And it felt like everything I was saying I've said before, at one point or another. It was just really hard.

M, my therapist, said he could tell just by looking at me in the lobby that I was more depressed. My body language and facial expressions gave it away I guess. And yet I could still muster up a smile or a chuckle during my session. M agreed with my pdoc Dr. M that this is probably a normal bipolar mood cycle. I'm in a trough and I'll eventually come back out of it - hopefully sooner rather than later. And what do I have to do to get through  it? Push my way through like I have been doing. Just keep plowing through until I feel better.

That sounds logical, doesn't it? It's part of mood management. The problem, is that sometimes it's really hard. Like, end-up-in-the-hospital-because-I-can't-cope hard. That's what I'm worried about. And just making it day to day. Right now, and in my depressions, I feel as though I'm living just to breathe.

We'll see though. We'll see how it goes. M thinks I'll be feeling better when I see him in 2 weeks. We made a bet on it (a bet I don't mind losing).  

Day 12

Weird that today is titled "day 12" when other days were higher up, yeah? Well, a lot of shit has happened since my last post. Like, I actually AM stable. Today is day 12 of being stable. And what does being stable look like for me?

I feel "normal", I guess. I don't really feel happy or sad, I just . . . am. It's kind of blah. Meh. No extreme moods, no hating myself, no wanting to die, no depression, no despair. So that's nice.

It feels very strange though. Everything I'm used to is gone. I almost don't know how to act or interact anymore. I feel awkward and small. I feel like I've lost part of myself. I feel like people don't trust me. I'm insignificant and pretty worthless at times. At least, I still feel that way.

I also feel like I'm walking on a tightrope. One misstep and I'll plummet into the abyss. Back into depression. Back where I was. I don't want to look down, I don't want to look back, I don't want to fall.

Today I felt myself waiver. I felt my foot slip just a little. How? My mood. I'm filled with impatient rage today (the type that is characteristic both in my depression and hypomania - not in feeling normal). I've felt like screaming and crying and throwing and breaking things. I don't really know how I've stopped myself (I have better self control than I give myself credit for I guess). I just want to go to bed. I want this day to be over. I'm just . . . I'm done. No more. And it's only 3pm.

I'd like to start writing more regularly, I just find it hard. Mainly thanks to ECT messing with my brain and making it difficult to form sentences. But maybe the more I do it, the easier it will get. Who knows. Maybe I'll shoot for once a week. Goals, people.

Day 52

Here I sit, down, withdrawn, angry, and confused. Yes, confused. I had therapy yesterday - finally - and I left emotionally drained and confused. The talk centered around my suicidal ideation and, lets be honest, I never realized how exhausting talking about suicide can be.

I should throw in a quick bit of background info: I talked to my psychiatrist last week before ECT about my suicidal ideation and he told me something that I really didn't want to hear. "Lynn, you're stable. You are considered stable. You're still going to cycle when you're stable and sometimes these cycles can be severe. The key to stability is that the cycles are shorter - maybe 2-3 days instead of 2-3 weeks or months." How horrible is that? He's basically telling me, hey, I know you're suicidal but it'll pass in a few days so just suck it up and deal with it. He doesn't like to do med changes outside of his office (I don't see him in office until July 5th) so he said he'd see me again in a couple weeks for ECT, in 3 in office, so we'd just see how I do and that would better dictate our next course of action.

Okay.

I've sat with that for a week now and it's still a tough pill to swallow. I told my therapist as much yesterday and he agreed with me . . . but also with my psychiatrist. Although he thinks we can do a better job managing it and that we should be able to get the suicidality under control.

The joys of being treatment resistant.

My therapist tried to come up with ideas of things I could do do help manage my moods, things I'm not already doing. I tried helping. We didn't come up with many because I'm already doing so much. So I need to continue doing what I'm doing and not allow myself to falter.

One thing I need to do is work on accepting this as my lot in life. I mean truly accepting the chronicity and severity of my bipolar disorder. Truly accepting that I may wake up any given morning desperately wanting to die, so depressed and miserable that I can't even pull myself out of bed to shower . . . only to wake up the next morning hypomanic, giddy with racing thoughts, having to watch everything I say, knowing that I can fly into a rage at the drop of a hat. And still have that be considered stable as long as I have a day or two with more mild symptoms.

My problem with this, besides the obvious, is that I like control in my life. I like stability. So I need something to control. I'm going to try and be healthy with this and work on my diet. Eating healthier and more natural. Working out more regularly. Maybe that will help. Hopefully that will help.

I have ECT and therapy next week, my in office appointment the next . . . we'll see how things go. A day at a time is all I can do.