It’s been a while since I last blogged. Depression punched me in the face and other than running my page on Facebook, I have been on the couch. This time of year is very trying for me. It will be two years that my Daddy passed away in May. I had a dream about him and it set me up for failure. He’s come to my dreams three times since he passed away. Out of those three dreams, he has only acknowledged me once. I beg him to come and let me know that he is ok. The last two dreams I was chasing him and he wouldn’t stop for me. I hope he’s not trapped between here and there.
I woke up this morning with a whole new attitude and presence. Mania is here and I couldn’t be more thankful. I showered this morning, got laundry done and it feels good! Maybe if I wouldn’t go on strike with my meds, I could be this motivated every single day. I admit, I enjoy my downers because I’m not so keyed up but they make me lazy. Yes, I am a certified pot head. I would rather smoke a bowl than take a handful of pills at a time. My doctor knows I smoke and toke, but of course he says with the medications I am on that I can’t be doing that. Surprisingly I’m not listening ( sarcasm ) and I’m not giving up my pot.
Being bipolar, I have random pain that makes no since. My doctor thinks, well knows that I always underestimate the power of my medicines. He has compromised and gives me Tylenol # 3 just to keep my mouth shut. He’s very reluctant with the Xanax because I was totally addicted to it for two and a half years. I’ve done good with it, but the temptation will always be there and I have days where I take more than I’m supposed to. My excuse is that I deserve it. Some days, life is a complete hell and I NEED it. I don’t wait for a huge panic attack. I know to take it right before the kids get home from school because it is complete madness with homework and they are kids…. they are hyper! I pop one when I think about my brother and how the rest of his life will be spent in prison, possibly federal prison. I pop one when I think about my Daddy. It’s not an emergency type drug for me. It is planned and calculated. If there is one medication that I never go on strike with, it’s my Xanax. I’m not proud of the fact that I will always love pain pills and downers. Once a junkie, always a junkie because the temptation always lies within us. Especially when the going gets tough. I do not recommend that any others get on this path. It’s a daily battle that I often lose. I know for a fact that it doesn’t help my mental illness but it helps me get through the day. Again, I am not proud of it and my Daddy would kick my ass but none of us are perfect.
My goal is to one day not self medicate. I only drink every now and then these days. It’s just not worth the hangover for me. Alcohol is a weakness on both sides of my family. Most are completely functional alcoholics and others are slowly dying. I hoped that when my father was diagnosed with liver cancer because of drinking that they would see the light. Unfortunately it has made some worse since losing him. My weakness is Crown Royal but the AIDS ( Alcohol Induced Diarrhea Shits ) sucks!!
I know that deep down I am strong enough to overcome my bad habits, it’s just so deep that I can’t muster up the courage to even try, not today anyway. Blogging is honestly my only outlet. I don’t talk to my husband about my ups and downs. No doubt about it, he recognizes them and has adjusted. My goal when I started this blog was to write once a week. Maybe I need a sticky note on the bathroom mirror that says blog, think, reflect and understand yourself today.
Here we are again cycling moods like you change underwear. I welcome today’s “up” with open arms but I know it won’t stay. Not long enough anyway. When I consistently take my medication, I do much better. When I get up extra early and have ME time, I do so much better.
It’s supposed to be a beautiful afternoon and I plan on taking advantage of it. Yard work and music are my therapy. I don’t see a therapist, it’s just not for me. I never thought that I would enjoy gardening but I love it. It takes me away to a calm and solemn place. I can’t wait for Spring and Summer, I do so much better.
The basics of bipolar disorder. Of course it is far more complicated than this list, but it is a start. It is widely known in the mental health industry that bipolar disorder is one of the most difficult diagnoses to make. People suffer for years before they get the true diagnosis, others can’t suffer anymore and end their pain. Once most are diagnosed it takes months, sometimes years as in my case, to find the right doctor and get on the right combination of medicines, IF YOU NEED THEM. It is a very frustrating and elusive creature that is hard to be tamed.
I want off of this crazy rollercoaster ride or do I? The nausea and anxiety is enough to drive the “normal” crazy. Most would welcome the butterflies in their stomach but I fear them. I’m cycling again and it is not only mentally exhausting but it has a huge affect on me physically. Just 3 days ago I was so happy to be out of my funk. I was functioning, taking care of myself, the house, socializing outside of my home and even venturing out in public. Yesterday, the fall began and I was in bed most of the day other than to get my kids to school. At least I am getting them to school, I can’t say I was doing that at all last year and the year before.
After my Dad passed away almost three years ago, I felt like I had no purpose. I had poured my entire life into taking care of him and my friends and family were worried. They knew I was going too far and knew that once he was gone, I would just be a waste of space in my mind. I couldn’t function at home but would go 36 hours without sleep just to make sure my father was comfortable. I was manic for 3 months straight. I loved it and I hated it but at least I wasn’t cycling every few days or hours or minutes. I was on one side of the spectrum, not being pulled in every direction possible by my mind.
I know that my meds keep me so called “stable” but they also contribute to the drastic ups and downs. Stables are for horses and I know nothing of it. I take Adderall every morning for my ADD and it gets me up and functional. I take Lamictal to stabilize my mood. I cannot complain much about the Lamictal other than it makes me forget everything. It sure beats the Seroquel that kept me in a constant fog. I take Zoloft for the depression and Abilify to aid the Zoloft. Then there is the Xanax for the panic attacks that literally bring me to my knees. Finally the Resperdal to help me sleep. Not only is my mind on a constant rollercoaster but the meds themselves are uppers and downers. I feel like I’m speed balling some days. The crazy part about this combination of meds is that I am honestly doing the best I have done in over 10 years. I’m still all over the place and still have my days of complete hysteria and days of complete desperation but I’m not spending thousands of dollars that I don’t have. I’m not sleeping around or making irrational decisions with no thought of the consequences that my choices will bring.
Some days it is very hard to accept that I will always be a rapid cycling hot mess. That alone can throw me into the spiral staircase that is never ending and on a disaster course. I have researched and researched to keep myself educated about my life time, invisible illness. I am capable of knowing when to tweak my meds and when to get extra rest, I just don’t. Then the guilt kicks in because I definitely know what I’m doing to myself. I am my worst enemy and my number one advocate at the same time. Everything around me is spinning and some days I spin with it and other days I am at a stand still trying to understand the chaos around me. My mind is constantly at war and I know it’s up to me to fight the good fight. Medication alone will not fight this ugly beast. I have to be willing to stand up to it and fight like hell. I live one day at a time, some days one hour at a time. I tell myself all of the time that one day I will LIVE, not just survive.
Everyday I am looked at, judged and questioned about my eating habits. The best are, “you must be vegetarian” or “do you ever eat?” This is my body build. Being tiny isn’t as easy as some think. So yes, I love my bones. They are mine to love.