I wouldn’t say I suffer or have suffered from self loathing. Feeling pathetic, lonely, stupid, annoying and unworthy better describes these feelings I’ve had off and on. One of my other traits is self-righteousness, I… More
Depression Checklist
My last post, I was feeling like hell. There were definitely explanations for how unusually down I was, but I believe now more than anything else, I was due for a ketamine infusion.
Even while I’m not suffering from depression the way I used to, I still have a hard time recognizing a downward spiral. I think it’s because for most of my life I didn’t know what was wrong with me, and since then I still make excuses.
In the pre-ketamine era, none of the drugs worked on me, so I was paralyzed about changing any medication or dosages in case I felt worse. I stayed on Depakote, which caused so many terrible side effects: double vision, intermittent tremors, and slurred speech, to name a few. I was actually diagnosed with Functional Neurologic Disorder by a neurologist, until a year later when he told me the drugs were causing the symptoms. I knew all along it was the Depakote, but it still took me two years into ketamine to make me stop. Those side effects are gone. I still have some tremors, but at least I can write my name legibly.
My therapist and I wrote a depression checklist tailored to me. I’ve included it below. It’s a bit raggedy, I’ve had it for so many years. I think the most important instruction is: it doesn’t matter how much or how little, acknowledge the feeling. And check it.
And I forgot to check it.
Good news for me—I had an infusion at the end of last week. The difference since then has been less worrying and clearer thinking (making decisions, etc.). One symptom I have is feeling unloved; that’s a hard one because it spreads into feeling pathetic about feeling lonely. That’s better now too.
I feel like hell.
I started this blog because I needed to talk about my life anonymously after being diagnosed with a mental illness that caused me shame and devastation. Well, that is how I saw it back then.
Today, I feel different than I have in a great while.
I have not been able to write honestly about some events in my life in the last few years because to write about things, I would have to think about them.
All I am doing today is crying. Not quite sure why. It may be built-up stress, disappointment, and a bit of loneliness. I just contradicted myself; I do know why I have been crying all day.
So why not take advantage of this crying day I thought?
Here is the the update from the last few years in the quickest and most vaguest way possible:
My dad almost died two years ago. My sister and daughter lied about everything to do with his care. I realized they were gaslighting me, and worse still, I was gaslighting myself (all my life, it turns out).
I lost a promotion to a younger, less experienced person. I needed the position because I knew my position might be eliminated due to school budget cuts. I had to work with her, feeling humiliated, all year.
My new supervisor made my life miserable. She was jealous because I succeeded every time she set me up to fail.
My dad got very sick again and died. He suffered so much because of the neglect from my sister. No one can convince me otherwise—neglect partly from denying me access.
Just as I had predicted, I lost my job. I have been looking for work since May. It is not going well.
What is still a constant weight is that my sister and daughter continue to alienate me. I do not know my grandchildren. They preach Jesus, but these are the people who give Christianity a bad name.
I do not want to say anything positive today. Next time.
I’ve been listening to KPOP for a year. Now, please let me explain…
Last summer, while still having ketamine infusions for my TRD, something wasn’t right. I had gone nine weeks instead of seven and could not get on top of the depression (more about that in an upcoming post). I read that physical exercise is one way to increase glutamate levels.
After researching, Beat Saber, a VR game, was recommended. Blocks fly to the music’s beat and you hit them away to the beat.
It was great; for an hour, the music masked the fact that I was exercising, and sweating became a fascination. The faster I was able to go, the higher my heart rate and the more I sweated. When it started to run into my eyes and drench my hair, I felt strangely triumphant.
Inevitably, the music the game offered began to bore me. I refused to give up, and after a few days, I learned how to upload my own songs. I searched “best dancing songs”, and BTS came up. I cannot sing to any of them – my Korean has never improved – but I can hum along, and I do recognize the different song titles now.
And that explains why I’m listening to KPOP. Is it similar to my Adam Lambert craze? No, I really have no explanation for that one.
How to Calculate Lifespan in Stamps and Checks
First Calculation (Stamps):
I was asked to mail a document recently with an original signature. I had used my last stamp at Christmas, so I bought 2 books 40 stamps. I felt uneasy when I did the math and realized that based on use, the stamps might outlive me.
1 stamp x 30 yrs = 30 stamps (10 leftover)
Second Calculation (Checks):
I was asked to submit a voided check for direct deposit. I haven’t had a checkbook in over 10 yrs, so I went to my bank in person and asked for 4. I used the same stamp formula.
1 check x 3 decades = 3 checks (1 leftover)
I think it’s obvious I did not use an official actuarial table, but I feel pretty good about my lifespan represented in stamps and temporary checks.
Link to an actual actuarial table: https://www.ssa.gov/oact/STATS/table4c6.htm
A little context might help……
Please turn your volume on to enjoy this sillines.
Picture this: It’s the end of the year at our middle school. The 8th graders cannot contain their wanderlust and are constantly slipping out of classrooms with some lame excuse and without a pass.
Enter Mr. Wood, 8th Grade Social Studies teacher. He is fed up with the blatant disregard for such a simple rule that has been drilled into every student since their start in 6th Grade.
Mr. Wood set up shop in the intersection of the 7th and 8th grade hallways to question anyone within his sights.
When approaching this formidable check point I couldn’t help but giggle because with each footstep the theme music from Jaws and High Noon would start to play in my head.
I went around and showed the videos to staff and some students, giggling the whole time.
I know I got more joy from the videos than anyone else and I am proud of myself for just being myself.
Empaths, Narcissists, and ADHD
Not only do I suffer from all of the things I suffer from (listed below )I am also an empath. There is a lot of deep and life long suffering due to this one.
I began investigating more on being an empath because of a new situation I find myself in. I’m being moved from my old position at work to a new position (not my decision) with a narcissist as my supervisor.
For this post, I looked around to find guidance incase someone would like to know more. I let out an “oh for goodness sake” coupled with my ever present eye roll when I read this: Empaths, Narcissists, and ADHD
It feels like narcissists hook on to almost anything (that’s why they are narcissists…they infiltrate every possible weakness known to the human condition).
I still haven’t made a good plan yet. I love my job and unlike most of the staff, I get a mental health boost when I’m there. I am really worried about being able to stay if I cannot figure out how to live with this situation 8 hours a day, day after day.
My one plan is to study and practice responses. I’m going to research how being an empath can actually be a positive for me. There has got to be a way to spin this.
This is a complete list of things I have been diagnosed with:
Ultra Rapid Cycling Bipolar 2, Bipolar Depression, ADHD, Complex PTSD, Treatment Resistant Depression, Hypothyroidism, Raynaud’s syndrome, Female
I know “female” isn’t technically a condition, but it does apply here. Whenever I investigate anything I have or think I might have the percentages in our population and severity are always higher for women.
Oh, forgot two other syndromes worth mentioning….BIARW (Believing I am Really Witty) and OOABMW (Only One Amused by My Wittiness).
Please don’t do that, middle schoolers are watching…
We have a new vice principal at my school. He is a very nice man. He is really enthusiastic with the kids as well as the staff. Having said that, and if you’ve read some of my other posts, you know I am an introvert most of the time. I challenge you to take the pop quiz below relating to the choices I am given to greet our vice principal.
I would rather:
A. Fist Bump
B. Hug
C. High Five
D. Learn fancy “dance” handshake.
E. None of the Above
The Accidental Kindness of Strangers
Yesterday I backed into a car while attempting to get into a parking space.
I got out of my car and we looked at the damage. I had dented and cracked his bike rack. No damage to mine. The man wasn’t very nice and actually said, “You’re not going to skip out on this are you?” He stated this in several different ways several times. The nerve!
Side Note: I did not have a terrible reaction the way I used to when I did something wrong. My eyes only filled with tears and lips quivered. Almost, but not quite, my face began to crumple into “oh god I’m going to cry” phase. Honestly I’m not ashamed of any of that. I think that would be a normal reaction to an unpleasant situation.
While standing there trying to keep my calm, I felt a hand on my shoulder and it was the director of the event I was working. He asked if I was alright. He had such a genuine look of concern, a few more tears leaked out. He asked if I needed to go home he would understand. I said I would be alright and he gave me a hug.
On my way into the event someone else approached me to ask how I was and she gave me a hug.
Half way through the event a volunteer checked in to see if I needed anything and I got another hug.
When the event was over the director came by again and I thanked him . I said I couldn’t believe how kind everyone was and how much it meant to me that I wasn’t standing there in the middle of the street alone.
This maybe a bit dramatic, but it was human nature, as it could be and was that in that moment.
This accident was no accident. The more I think about it, to experience kindness and worth as a human being, well, was worth the deductible.
When can we get in on this PRIDE thing?
Today, on the last day of PRIDE month, it dawned on me….how do I (and other mental illness sufferers) get a PRIDE thing of our own? I want to feel safe to come out too.
I spent an hour writing four paragraphs of how we can’t come out and then I deleted them. What I had written is not necessary because we know the truth of having to live with a mood disorder. The constant spread of misinformation in this society keeps us scared and hidden.
I think our word would have to be different entirely, because I do not feel proud. I don’t know how I could. It would be like feeling proud living with diabetes or heart disease. Both, by the way, have a huge impact on health, but no stigma.
Here is what I came up with:
RESILIENCE Month – boring
BRAVE Month – boring
GRIT Month – I like this one, but it’s got a “mechanic feel” that doesn’t feel right.
COMPASSION Month – Could refer to anything.
I needed help coming up with more words for our very own PRIDE month so, of course, I searched Google hoping that maybe AI could come up with something better.
This one sentence below says more than I could have said in a thousand paragraphs .
hi·a·tus
A pause or gap in a sequence, series, or process.
I don’t want to write about my relationship with my oldest daughter again. Let’s just say that after 8 years it is the same. I see my two grandchildren about a couple of times a year.
It’s taken me three or four of the 5 years to make peace with it. It’s been tenacity, therapy, good friends, my son and ketamine that has enabled me to live with it.
Now my other daughter, the youngest, has caused me more stress and heart ache, because it has gone on for most of her life.
I can actually admit now that I have been emotionally abused by her. She is not a narcissist like my ex husband and my mother. I think she has borderline personality disorder. Since she is my child I hung in there through it all while dragging her to every kind of professional under the sun because she was clearly unhappy (which is what I thought).
Last year she began texting me and wanted to get together. I hadn’t heard from her in a year, not from lack of trying on my part. It was wonderful! It’s like this person was behaving in a way I had never experienced with her. She would come over for dinner about once a month and we watched Sherlock and Vampire movies…not sure how we got on that one, but it was fun and I could finally love her in a real way.
I’m not completely delusional. I was puzzled by this new and improved child. Maybe I was pushing away the probably end to it with screaming, yelling and unfounded accusations from her. I was a bit tentative giving too much of myself emotionally to the situation, but it was so lovely while it lasted.
First she cancelled Christmas with us. I hid how disappointed I really was “walking on eggshells” kind of thing. We had never spent Christmas apart. Fast forward to early May, that was the last time I saw her. I did get a “I’m fine” text in late July when I asked her if I should file a missing persons report. I texted her on and off since then. The usual things. Memes, videos of the cats, silly stories, etc.
Last Sunday I called my son to see if he had heard from her. He said no. A couple of hours later I got a text from him saying “I’m Alive”. So he had texted her, I don’t know the extent of the conversation, but I know he doesn’t have patience for the way she treats us.
Another hour went by and I got a text from her “I’ve blocked you”.
This caused a familiar reaction. I had been blocked by my sister and my oldest daughter during the hardest time of my life when I divorced my husband. The reaction was that horrible pain in my chest followed by uncontrollable sobbing. This time though I got myself together within minutes instead of 30 which it usually takes.
I rummaged around in my head to figure out how I was feeling. This was new. How did I feel? I went to bed. The next morning rummaged some more trying to pinpoint this strange non-reaction.
Before I left for work I wrote on the back of an envelope “this could be a good thing because now I don’t have to worry about her and take all the abuse”.
By the time I got to work I felt so strong and relived about another rejection from another daughter. Finally I could say “NO” to this, That feeling lasted all day.
I saw my therapist that afternoon and she could see the difference in my reaction. She has always given me advice that makes me feel either real with the way I process things or gives me clues as to how I can see it differently. She was really positive and then she slipped in something like “While you are taking this hiatus from her it will be good to….” can’t remember the rest.
I was disappointed that she had said “while”. Just her saying it broke that wall down a little bit knowing that it is just a matter of time that I won’t be able to keep up this persona. It’s not me, I’m her mother.
I’m not thinking about it now though. I figure if she needs anything she can go to her brother, sister or dad. I’m checked out for now. I may just block her. That would feel so good until I unblock her 10 minutes later.
Revised definition: hi·a·tus: A pause or gap of emotional reactions to my estranged daughters.
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