• Broken Foot – Broken Spirit

    I’ve been sitting and sitting and sitting… falling further and further into depression. My house is filthy. Laundry is strewn all over the place. I’ve been looking at the same plate of half eaten bagel on the dining room table for days… Dishes in the sink are piling higher and higher. The refrigerator is full of take out that I can’t even think about eating…

    Broken foot. 46 days of broken.

    I was fighting this in the beginning. I thought I could force my foot to behave. Walk. But now, I no longer have the drive to operate at the speed I used to. I don’t know if thats the depression or if I am really changing my behavior. There must be something for me to change out of all of this. Things happen for a reason right? Sure…

    “But you don’t believe in all that fate crap. You’re in control of your own life. Here have a cookie. And I promise, by the time you’re through with it, you’ll feel right as rain.”

    That’s what the oracle said to Neo in the Matrix when he still doubted that he was the one.  I personally don’t believe in it anymore either. I just haven’t had that experience with life lately. Maybe it’s part of adulthood. Life is something you have to work at. Every day. Especially if you want to have a good one. And then we get hit by the x-factor. The wild card. And bam, we’re down for the count. No matter how we plan for hard times we’re hardly prepared them. Personally, one more good hit to myself and I’m going to be right back in the hospital psych ward.

    Man plans. God laughs.

    Maybe I should study Buddhism. I have several books written by the Dalai Lama and have enjoyed them all. God I just want this pain to go away. I feel such a heaviness in my heart and I am ruminating on all of the bad that’s happened in the last 3 months. I did make things right with my ex though. I had to. My anger was toxic!

  • Happy Thanksgiving (or) The Purge!

    Today is like a whole new reality… My frustration and anger drove me to my therapist yesterday. I told her I was so angry that I could trash her whole office. I wanted to throw chairs through the windows, take a grizzly serrated knife to the couch, light the drapes on fire. I actually broke down in tears. Not my usual MO.

    I said, “I just want to go away. I need to get in my truck and drive. I need to get out of here and I think I might just do that. It’s the only thing I can think of and I think I need to do it.” She asked me where I’d go. That didn’t matter to me, I just had to escape the irrational anger. I had to get out of town. I suggested that my ex put a curse on me or something. She scribbles something down — May be developing psychosis. Then she pulled a real shrink move on me, though she warned me it might piss me off.

    “You know, a lot of times when we experience this much anger that has gone on for a while we are angry at ourselves for something.”

    “I’m not angry at myself! What the hell have I done? It’s all these other people who continue to fuck with me!” I calmed down. I apologized  if for swearing so much. She said she didn’t care she was from New York.

    I thought about it further. I knew she wanted an answer after all of my drama. “I guess if I had to pin it on something it would be that I’m too trusting. I trust people and then they fuck me over!”

    I came home feeling shitty as ever. I told my mom I didn’t want to go to Thanksgiving. Now I’m baking squash. I had a moment of panic, because I forgot to make the pumpkin pie. Oh my God! I can’t go without pumpkin pie! I always make pumpkin pie!!!” I calmed down. Who really gives a rats ass? I’m just spinning out of control because I’m bipolar.

    Anyway, back to the whole new reality.

    I thought more last night about the curse. I doubted that someone could actually do that, well, here in this country. I can imagine in the deep jungles on South America there are natives who make little wax figures of people they don’t like and stick pins in them. But here, here we have energy attachments, and things that were given to you by someone who now hates you, well, you gotta get those things out of your life for good.

    So I took it upon myself to go through every room and weed out the things my ex had given to me. You can’t believe how much stuff there was just lying around. I have a huge pile of remains now lying in my front driveway. Silks, foot massagers, bicycle pumps, magnets that read “True Love”. What was I doing with all this? Who knows, I guess I didn’t find myself so petty as to purge my house of all his things, but now I do. Now I hope that things will change for me. The only thing I kept was a bag full of jewelry. What woman gets rid of jewelry? But I’m still getting it out of my house. It’s going to my mothers until I feel it’s safe to have it back.

    I also boxed up a bracelet that he gave me in the very beginning. It’s his dead sisters. I wrote him a short note and kept it nice, well, as best I could. I did have to lower myself to defiling his new girlfriends name, but come on… Svetlana? How could you refrain from calling her Slutlana at least once?

    ; 0

     

  • Anger Management

    This may very well be the most angry I have been in adulthood. As a moody teenager it was acceptable, but now I am just enraged and nobody want’s to fucking hear it. Of course, neither would I, but I can’t deal with it any longer. I don’t even know where it began…

    Everything was fine in July… then we were supposed to go back to my family’s house for a week long vacation in August. My fiance wouldn’t get his shit together, so I threw him out! I fucking screamed and yelled and I’m sure the neighbors heard. The boys were crying, the dog was freaked out and my dick-head boyfriend was screaming right back at me. It must have looked like some white trash weekend carnival.

    After that he wouldn’t stop bugging me. “Won’t you reconsider.” “You know it’s just your illness.” “Everything was fine until you started taking the medication.”

    It was all a load of crap, especially since he already has a new, young and impressionable, stunningly beautiful lady friend at his side. They’ve probably been engaged in some giant fuck-fest since early October, when he was still begging me to come back to him.

    I’m starting to think that he has put a curse on me. I wonder if people can do that? Maybe I should try and find out. Like, go to a psychic or shaman or something, because here’s what has gone on since.

    • My boss did a drastic change on me and started treating me like shit for no reason
    • He threatened my position with calling in HR
    • My dog turned on me and now acts like I beat her
    • My car was totaled and I was without one for two months
    • My job was threatened again, so I decided to quit
    • I stepped off a curb and broke two bones in my foot
    • The ER misdiagnosed it as an fucking sprained ankle so I went ahead and walked on it
    • My son’s father developed cellulitus and became deathly ill
    • I am now on crutches and unable to– drive, eat anywhere but the kitchen counter, shower without risk, carry a glass of anything anywhere, do laundry, clean the house, take out the trash…
    • My recovery time is 4-6 weeks in a boot with no weight-bearing at all
    • Oh, and last but not least, I have to see my ex-boyfriend/fiance with his hot new squeeze, who he hooked up with 2 weeks after I dumped his ass for good
  • The Gimp

    I’ve been off my feet now for 25 days. I finally got an MRI of my right foot. I should soon know just what the hell is going on down there. The results won’t be officially given to me until Monday, but I did convince the tech to let me listen to the dictation from the radiologist. A big no-no as far as HIPA is concerned, but nothing that some tears from a girl on crutches can’t manage. The hospital badge helps too.

    It sounds like there are two fractures according to the radiologist, however I don’t speak doctor, so the blah, blah, period, blah, blah, blah, period, went pretty fast for me, but I did catch fracture. I was like, “Thank God. That’s what I wanted to hear.” The tech just looked at me, “That’s what you wanted?” “Well, I didn’t want to hear that it was a torn ligament.” I think he still thought I was nutty, but I didn’t care as long as I could keep chatting with him. He was super cute!

    I’ll tell you what though, the anger I’ve been feeling is just getting unbearable, for me, my family, hell even the dog! I feel like I need a frickin’ anger management class to get me through this. I am so pissed at the ER for screwing up. I told them it was more than a sprain. I told them I heard a loud pop when I went down. When I asked the foot doctor if that meant anything he said, “Well yes. It means you broke something.” So why the misdiagnosis? Why did I go to work after 10 days of lying on the couch having my mother wait on me and walk around? God I hope I didn’t screw something up.

    Now I just feel depressed. I feel beaten down by this. I hate, absolutely hate, not being able to get around by myself. I can’t drive. I can’t clean my house. Can’t do laundry. The workout of crutching around is pretty good though. It’s like doing a push-up and a crunch all at once each time you take a step. Maybe I’ll have great looking arms and a flat tummy when it’s all said and done.

    My biggest concern is how long I’m going to be laid up, because this really effects my moods. The one way I control my bipolar is to go outside and get some good cardio going. I haven’t figured out how to do that and there’s no good replacement. I’ve been using wine, but that just ends up backfiring. It ultimately makes me feel more withdrawn and more grouchy.

    Today I went up to one of my favorite remote, secret places, and that always resets me, but I had to be driven. I’m really not doing well with being driven everywhere. Maybe this is all happening to force me to slow down. I have been running on awfully high speed for the past year. I try and contemplate the bigger picture… hmmm.

    Anyway, if there is something to contemplate its this. The afternoon of my fall, when I was at work, I get this email from a friend of mine and at the bottom there’s one of those rotating quotes that are sometimes there. I read it, think nothing of it, then as I’m walking out of work, just minutes before my fall, I see this piece of paper lying on the ground. It has the same quote on it.

    Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. — Steve Jobs 

  • Strength

    There is a strength inside each of us that we don’t even know about. We carry on, although all signs point to collapse. Overloaded, we cling to each other as we walk a fine line between sanity and madness. One step off of the knife edge and we will fall into the abyss. Sometimes people reach out. They ask if we are alright. Sometimes we are honest. Sometimes they help.

     

     

  • This is an Important Section for those of you Who Want the Real Nitty Gritty.

    When I was first diagnosed I took it upon myself to find the most information I could on bipolar disorder. I wanted an explanation. I wanted specifics. I wanted the scientific reason. The following are pieces taken from what I think is the best website on Bipolar II out there, written by Dr.Jim Phelps, a board certified psychiatrist, who’s recognized as a national expert on the topic of bipolar disorder. If you’re into the nuts and bolts of what’s really going on, I fully encourage you to visit the full site, PsychEducation.org, where you’ll find detailed research pertaining to bipolar disorder.

    The following excerpt is copied with full credit given to James R. Phelps, MD.

    ___________________

    The Biologic Basis of Bipolar Disorder

    Brain Differences

    Summary:
    This is a hard chapter.  If there are any in this series of five chapters you might wish to skip, this would probably be it.  The others lead more directly to implications for treatment.  This chapter is for those people who would like to see with their own eyes what is going on in the brain of people with bipolar disorder that might be different from what is going on in those who do not have this condition.

    Differences in size

    First the good news: many of the differences in brain size which have been shown in many studies of patients with mood problems can be reversed at least in part with effective treatment.  Second, the take-home message for now:  growing evidence suggests that each episode of severe mood symptoms is associated with increases in these brain size differences, and therefore aggressive pursuit of good symptom control may be associated with preventing some of the brain changes that unfortunately seem to progress in at least some forms of bipolar disorder.

    Although it has taken years to be certain, because not all studies have shown the same results, there is now fairly good agreement that the frontal cortex (which is associated with decision-making and controlling impulsive behavior) shrinks in size when bipolar disorder is allowed to progress. This is basically the same result which has been seen in severe forms of depression which remain untreated, as shown in my essay on frontal atrophy in depression.

    Several studies have now shown that lithium appears to be capable of reversing this trend toward frontal atrophy (the studies are referenced in the essay on treatment effects in depression).

    Differences in Function: Facial Recognition Tasks

    People with bipolar disorder make mistakes when interpreting the expressions on people’s faces, at least in an experimental setting. This has been shown several times, including in children,McClurewhere the following results were obtained:

    As you can see, given the pictures that were shown in this study, everybody makes mistakes and interpreting them, but people with bipolar disorder make those mistakes more often.  Interestingly, their mistake rate was even greater than patients with anxiety disorders, who did not differ greatly from controls.  When the faces shown exhibited more dramatic expressions, people with bipolar disorder made over twice as many mistakes as people without a mood or anxiety problem.

    all of the above findings were seen even in children who were not symptomatic at the time of the study. In other words, this difficulty with facial expression recognition may be one of the more lasting, permanent parts of the illness, not a symptom.  However, the error rate may be particularly evident during mania.AltshulerFleck  Interestingly, these mistakes in facial recognition appear to be reduced by treatment, at least with one of the standard treatment for bipolar disorder, lamotrigine.Haldane

    Making quick decisions about emotional matters

    If you aren’t familiar with reading one of these pictures, and don’t want to learn (not too tough, but maybe not necessary), the bottom line here is: people with bipolar disorder, even when they don’t have any symptoms, don’t seem to use the front part of their brain when making decisions under time pressure.  In this particular task, at least, they were not using the part of the brain known to inhibit impulsive action (not as much as were the control subjects).

    Researchers are homing in on regions of the brain which act differently in people with bipolar disorder compared to those without the illness.  Evidence is growing quite strong that a region of the brain called the medial prefrontal cortex is underactive in people with bipolar disorder even when they are having no symptoms at all.  However, to see this difference show up, the the brain image study must be done when participants are working on a task that requires making decisions quickly about something with an emotional overtone. In a recent study, a team from AustraliaLagopoulosfound the following result:

    The red region is the medial prefrontal cortex.  You see here the portion of it which is more active during the task in people without bipolar disorder, compared to those with the illness (the task required a complex sorting of words, some of which had emotional implications). The blue/green region is the hippocampus, which was more active during the task in people with bipolar disorder.

    The authors note that this region of the frontal cortex is thought to be important in being able to change one’s behavior from a routine response to a new, flexible response based on circumstances.  One of my patients to whom I showed this picture asked about her sense that she is no longer able to “multitask”.  She cannot rely on her brain to make choices between routine or flexible responses unless she really concentrates.  She pointed out that people often take up the ability to multitask as a marker of intelligence; and unfortunately, the opposite as well: if you cannot multitask, you aren’t “smart”.  Increasingly, this somewhat subtle cognitive impairment is being recognized as one of the unfortunate consequences of bipolar disorder.

    Medications may make a difference, however, at least somewhat.  In a study similar to the one shown above,Strakowski researchers compared patients who were not receiving medications with those who were.  The following series of MRI slices shows regions of the brain which were more active in those taking medications.   As you can see, a region of the brain similar to that emphasized above, the medial frontal cortex,  became more active with treatment.  Another region which changes substantially is the anterior cingulate gyrus, which has been shown in other studies to play a central role in emotion control.

    In general the picture which seems to be developing here is that people with bipolar disorder are working harder with their emotional centers when doing basic thinking work, compared to those without the illness. This may be some form of compensation for decreased activity in more frontal regions of the brain.

     

  • People Just Don’t Get It

    I have read websites, blog topics, and listened to personal advice about whether or not to reveal this illness to people. I’ve kept it a secret for the most part, except for telling my Mom and Dad, my best friend and my ex- boyfriend who knew something was wrong and encouraged me to seek help. I keep it to myself because I have a strong sense of self-preservation which is my driving force so much of the time.

    What I think is that most people don’t get it and don’t want to, so what’s the point? The responses I’ve gotten so far haven’t really satisfied me. I’ve gotten blank stares, avoidance in the form of never talking about it, reassurances that they know someone else with it (as if it’s like the common cold) and walking away from having a relationship with me altogether. It’s been four months and I have not had one person, not one fucking person of the few people closest to me, simply ask…  how I feel about this freight train of wreckage that was just dumped on me.

    Last week Friday at 4 o’clock my boss came in and started to tell me that I needed to create a “presentation” about the training center that I run, and basically pitch it to the practice. See the hospital is making budget cuts and it’s shutting down entire departments. The stress in my life became enormous. I considered telling him about my condition and how this kind of pressure can trigger bad circumstances for me, but realistically he would react no differently than anyone else, and let’s face it, it might seriously work against me as far as employment.

    Telling people… I haven’t figured it out yet. I think that there is still a huge stigma when it comes to mental illness and a great misunderstanding of bipolar disorder. There is so much information out there, but people don’t feel the need to read it, not even those closest to me. They think they understand, they think it’s like what they see on t.v. I guess. Honestly, it makes me feel very alone in this… I’m required to visit a psychologist once a month, as many of us are when on the medications prescribed, and I don’t even think she gets it. All in all, I only want one person to understand, my son. That’s why I continue to write this. One day he’ll be able to read it and get it.

     

  • Mania, Mania, How It’s Rewarded!

    So I’ve been on the up and up lately. I thought that the medication would keep this at bay, but as I understand it, it only prolongs the periods between episodes. I have to admit the hypomanic phase is really rewarding and I love feeling it again. It’s like a drug rushing through my veins ~ ~ ~ I am extra attractive, spontaneously witty, ultra productive, irresistibly charming. I feel so God damned good! I can overlook anything!

    I drank an entire bottle of wine last night and should have woken up with a terrible hangover, but instead I got up at 6 a.m. and went into work after organizing the entire house for when I would get home. I walked into the lab and the girls complimented me on how great I looked. I thought they were just giving me shit, but no, they were sure that I looked more “refreshed”. I quickly quipped “It must be the run I had this morning”… better than telling them I have bipolar disorder and I am happily in the manic phase.

    I took the day and wrote up an entire contract for the operating procedures of the training center, something that I have been putting for nearly a year. My boss was impressed. I was exhausted. Again.

    I have the hardest time wrapping my head around explaining this illness to people. Maybe that’s the real reason I am writing this blog. There are so many misconceptions wrapped around mental illness. Most people have no understanding of it and think that its something that you can control if you put your mind to it. I think of it as a heavy subject, which is why I don’t discuss it.

    For me, on the medication I realize I have to be on, the mood swings are a subtle shift that most people don’t even recognize. But the thing is, if I’m up I’m rewarded and if I’m down well it’s, “You’re just tired. Give yourself a break”. What people don’t realize is that mania, with all it’s attractiveness, generally winds up making me feel like I want to hurl a plate at someones head, and depression makes me think about that 38 Smith & Wesson, which is why I don’t own one.

    I know that being in a position of high stress right now is bringing this on and I’m trying my best to control it from outside of my mind. But I have to be honest… it’s been a long, long time since I’ve felt my old friend mania working the magic in me, and for the first time I understand why people choose to go off their medication for this illness.

  • I Guess I Spoke Too Soon

    There are five stages of grief, and we experience them regardless of the situation, as long as it is traumatic. Shock – Anger – Bargaining – Depression – Acceptance.

    I work at the hospital, and I see a lot of the shock and anger, even the bargaining. I can relate to those in my own life, but it takes quite a hit for me not to move past the depression stage quickly. I often jump right to acceptance. See, I am the eternal optimist. I am an optimist to a fault actually. I expect the best and when the worst happens, well, it totally fucks with me. A friend of mine is the opposite. She’s pessimistic and thinks the worst will happen and is pleasantly surprised when things go her way. I don’t get it. I remain the blind fool I guess.

    This car thing has finally hit me though. They say be wary when a major event happens, that it can trigger mania and depression. I didn’t believe it. Why should I? I’m in control of my own life now, right? Well it happened and it sucked as usual. First I slept for 11 hours on Friday night, mistake number one. I got up with trepidation. I am so prone to the manic side of this illness that I pretty much knew I was headed for an eventful day.

    I started out with a run, hoping that would curtail the excessiveness I was sure to feel by early afternoon, but then I had this great idea to cook all day and stock up the freezer for winter. My day turned out to be a shopping spree a the local grocery store, cooking two stew dinners, four helpings of pasta sauce and a vat of black bean soup. While the food was cooking and I didn’t need to watch it, I ripping up the perennial beds and replanted in the rain. Then I had to move the air conditioners out of the house and get in the winter stuff. I vacuumed the house, cleaned out the refrigerator, went through my closet and switched summer to winter clothes. I did three loads of laundry, folded clothes for two hours and worked out. Why in the hell didn’t I stop? Why didn’t I heed the warning signs to avoid the crash?

    Sunday morning. I decided not to oversleep, good idea, but as the afternoon wore on I got more and more exhausted. I had to lay down at 4 o’clock. I would have slept for hours… I forced myself to get up though and make dinner, but when I headed into the kitchen I felt like I couldn’t do anything. I stared out the window and didn’t prepare food. I could tell that something was slipping in my mind and I had to catch it soon – my son was home. I felt this overwhelming sense of hopelessness. Do I really have to live with this for another 20, 30, 40 years? I don’t think I can do it. I thought about the relief of putting a 38 Smith & Wesson to my head and pulling the trigger. I was once again in a very bad place.

    I sunk to the floor next to the refrigerator. I couldn’t get up. I wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and hide. I thought, Should I go to the urgent care psychiatric center?, because I knew that’s where I need to go when things get really bad. I forced myself to get up, regain control, but I could feel the insanity right there, behind a thin veil looking at me, waiting for me to slip up, let loose one tear, pick up one thing and throw it, let out one scream….

    Is this how it’s going to go? Do I really have to live with this? How can I ever trust myself again?

    I’ve been thinking about the word insanity. The folks at AA have taken it and skewed it to their own definition saying, “it’s doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results”. I’d like to punch one of them in the face right about now. I did not choose this, and despite what some people say about alcoholism, I don’t believe in the disease theory either. It’s still a choice to keep on drinking. It’s not a choice to be born with a mental illness that will burden you for the rest of your life.

    Maybe I’m just being judgmental now, but the truth is, what happened tonight scared the shit out of me. How do I manage this? How do I explain to people what happens to me, so that they can help me? My ex-boyfriend walked into a horrible scene once and he got a taste of what it can really be like during a bad episode. I told him then and there, “This is what happens. This is what I am dealing with”.

    So, I guess that I am not unaffected by the stress of being carless. Maybe this is the depression stage. I sure-to-God hope so. I need to move into the acceptance stage really soon!

     

  • Totaled Car / Totaled Mind?

    I am amazed at how treatable bipolar really is. I’m not on much medication, but the effects are huge. My car is totaled, and I feel okay. I feel very calm. Of course when they gave me the news I did start laughing and crying at the same time (a little minor hysteria) and I didn’t get much sleep last night, but there was no throwing things (okay, some swearing). Is it all because of two pills a day?

    I remember a time not long ago, before I was diagnosed, where I really thought that throwing things helped. It didn’t. I’ve lost a lot of nice things as a result and have some holes in the walls that I still have to patch. Of course, those serve as a reminder.

    There was this one particular time, when I think I realized that there was something really wrong with my mind. I was being pushed, verbally, by my boyfriend at the time. He really liked to do that. It was nothing nasty, but fucking relentless! On and On and On he went about me and my problems and how they created all of our problems. I kept telling him to just stop, but of course he didn’t, so I got up and went into the bathroom, shut the door and started screaming “Leave me alone. Just leave me alone!!!” I had passed the meltdown stage.

    He kept talking to me through the door, so I opened it and yanked something off the wall and threw it. It wasn’t enough. I then grabbed a framed photograph that I took of a flower that was hanging on the wall of the bathroom. It was a close up of a thistle. By now things were moving in slow motion for me and it was quite surreal. I smashed the photograph on the floor as hard as I could. I watched the glass shatter into hundreds of tiny pieces and ripple across the hardwood floor. It was so… beautiful. Like skiing on corn snow and watching it rush down the mountain in front of you, or dropping a small pebble into a still pond. I looked up at my now very alarmed boyfriend and pointed to the glass and said, “That is what my mind is like”.

    Last night I was reading to my son and he says, “Well it sucks the car is dead”. I normally wouldn’t like that kind of talk coming from him, but I tolerated it in this situation. “At least I didn’t throw anything”, I said back.  He remembered a time when I foolishly got mad at my iPhone and broke it because I couldn’t get a signal or something. I had to buy a new one. Stupid. So he says to me “Yeah, you don’t do that anymore”. I told him there was a reason for that and I would explain it to him sometime. It was a good affirmation that he could see the difference in me. I have been waiting for that.