Category: bipolar II

Back to the End

Published on by cmglife

It’s been 2 1/2 years since I’ve posted. I don’t know why, I thought about it every once in a while. I thought  about how good it used to do for me and why I couldn’t do it anymore. 

Maybe it was living with bouts of depression day to day was infiltrating even that. I’ve been dangling by a thread for a long time. How did I keep my grip? And more importantly why did I keep it? Sharing what was happening in my life was the original reason I started my blog to figure out my life and emotions with a Bipolar 2 diagnosis.

I’m able to write again because I found something amazing. Before I began to write again, I forced myself to read back through the entries that prevented me from writing. I read the latest three and that was all I could take. Reading the posts and remembering the pain of depression and hopelessness was too much.

In September 2021, my psychiatrist diagnosed me with TRD (Treatment Resistant Depression). That name alone caused a new degree of hopelessness. Experts say that a person needs
to try at least four different treatments before depression can be truly considered treatment resistant. I’ve tried five, maybe more, my doctor didn’t have to root through the 11-year file he has on me to come to this conclusion. Not only antidepressants alone, but combinations like Seroquel or Abilify.

So here is the amazing thing, I started ketamine infusions March 18. I had my 3rd one on March
25, last Friday. That makes three. For the first time I’m feeling a difference. I am a “slow starter” according to the doctor so that is why it took the third ketamine infusion to start to make a difference.

What does “feeling a difference” mean to me? Happy, for only three days I’ve noticed a real happy, not a manic happy. Even just a taste of this emotion that I haven’t had for so long is like a drink of water when you are thirsty. I am sharper, more focused.

I’m going to keep writing about this experience with hope. I haven’t had hope for a very long time and it’s nice to welcome it back.

Now for something serious.

Published on by cmglife

It’s been a year since my oldest daughter has let me see my beloved grandchildren. She just moved back to town, an eight minute drive that I have only made once.

During a series of unfortunate events, she has ostracized me, banished me from her life. Only in my imagination and deep down believing it to be true I deserve this complete rejection, loss and humiliation.

I can’t go on right now because even after a year I can only keep this at bay before it envelops me once again in complete despair.

Simplicity…. Could it be that simple?

Published on by cmglife

I’ve not been able to write about my life in a long time.  I realized that when I wrote down what was going on it brought it all back.  It turns out I am still a master at not thinking about things when I stay busy.  That sounds like a very simple strategy, but it works even better now that the “tricks” I’ve learned over the years are now finally embedded in my brain.  It’s a lot like when we hear repeatedly,”to lose weight, diet and exercise.”  I had decided not to believe that before (me and the people that spend more than a billion dollars on dieting.”  Well, it is true, it’s boring, but it’s true.  Turns out thinking positively, keeping a positive journal (no matter how fake and cheesy if feels in the beginning) works.  Trying very hard and consistently to not dwell on things you cannot fix – works too!

Beginning from my divorce, I’ve slowly lost all the relationships that have been the center of my world. I’m not going to rehash the details, but I will begin to write how I’m dealing with it.

From what I’ve learned so far, simplicity.

A Pig With No Name

Published on by cmglife

In the beginning of my divorce I bought a ceramic pig with wings. It was meant to symbolize how I used to think I could only leave John “when pigs fly”.

I set it on the floor of my car and before I even got home it’s ear had broken off. I glued it back on and again, thought about how it symbolized mending my life. I usually name things, and was waiting for a name to come to me.

Shorty after I moved into my new place I knocked the pig over and his other ear broke off. I didn’t have glue so I used packing tape to fix it temporarily. Again more symbolism for the particular divorce hell I was going through and I was doing my best “taping my life together’

The dog knocked it off about 3 months ago (had thought I’d moved him to a safer place), I taped the ear back on again. I still couldn’t come up with a name.

Last week I was taking a frame off the wall and it fell on the pig and he lost both ears.

So now I have a different view. That pig had become the Dorian Gray of my life. Looking good on the outside, but in reality, rotting, hidden from view. Even fixing him each time didn’t work. And after its last accident and my last post, I think it’s time to get him out of here!

I’ll Take It

Published on by cmglife

Yesterday, I had a student guess my age at 35. Granted, it came from a 13 year old boy, but at 51, I let my self enjoy it for a minute!

Another One of Those First World Problems

Published on by cmglife

I feel complaining about insignificant things and labeling them “FWP” exonerates me from being a whiny spoiled person living in the best place in the world.  I’m also a jaded ex-catholic, so there is already a layer of guilt underneath everything I say and do.  

I want to post this for another reason.  With the hell I’ve been going through for the past year from medication side effects, divorce, being ostracized by my children and doing all of this in a delicate mental condition, I welcome superficial trivial problems. 

Here is one now:

Well, so far this is a very good day! I colored my hair this week from an online hair color boasting it is just like the professional color. I don’t know why I bother. The brown of my hair turned out beautifully but the white came out a light brownish reddish. Anyway……I used the last of my root concealer two days ago (forgot all about covering my roots on Tuesday and was out doing errands for four hours). Luckily I wasn’t aware so had all of the confidence of a good looking person. Back to my roots (pardon the pun) I was even debating wearing one of Allison’s hats to hit the Walgreens early before too many people were there to get a new can of concealer. In the bathroom I took one more last ditch effort, fingers crossed, to look in the bathroom closet.  There it was buried under cold medicine…..half a can!!!  Halejuha!

Dear Life:  please keep bringing on those kind of problems.  I really need a break.  xoxo

Abused Patience Turns to Fury

Published on by cmglife

So much anger.

I was feeling pretty strong against the ex-husband and his girlfriend yesterday morning.

He is trying to pass her off as his roommate.  No one knows what I know about how they were sleeping together a full 6 months before I asked for the divorce.  Even the children seem to have been fooled.  I can’t say anything to anyone because when it is all said and done I’m taking the high road as usual (not willingly believe me).  I Looking back at how outrageously (even for him) his behavior was during that time I believe I was manipulated (AGAIN) into asking for the divorce.

So I checked Facebook to see if I was truly able to handle it.

He was on her page with a selfie of themselves.  Under the comments was a comment from my mother in law saying “Just a couple of kids!”

I was so angry, hurt and other things I can’t even name that I went into a horrible spiral of depression and anxiety.  It was a pretty dark day.

I got up this morning and felt much better.  I tested the memory of yesterday to see if they still held their sting and they did.  Good news for me is not as painful. Then it dawned on me that checking Facebook was in essence breaking the No Contact rule!  That is the real key to recovery and now I have to start all over again! I had 4 whole weeks under my belt.

I’ve been doing EMDR for a whole host of things in the last few months.  When this woman moved into my old house with him I had to see my therapist twice a week for two weeks.  I have sooooo much more work to do.

I hate him.  I hate them.  I haven’t really been able to enjoy any of my freedom from him because he’s still getting to me but on a higher and different level.  When will this get better?  When can I finally feel better?

Its just like you when you try every trick in the book to lose weight and it always comes back to diet and exercise. Time heals all wounds.

Blocking all of them and taking the Facebook app of my phone is a good measure as well.

Beware of him that is slow to anger; for when it is long coming, it is the stronger when comes, and the longer kept. Abused patience turns to fury.

Francis Quarles

Another Horrible Crazy Christmas

Published on by cmglife

This morning I woke up from the worst day of my life during the worst time of my life.  The bright side is that now it cannot get any worse.

On Christmas Eve, my narcissist, soon to be ex-husband pulled out all the classic narcissistic crazy stops.  We had an argument and this time he locked himself in the bathroom pretending to call the police telling them he was afraid of me and didn’t know what I was going to do to him.

The situation was so ridiculous I couldn’t help but see the humor in it. It didn’t help defuse the situation when every time he opened the door I said, “Boo!”

He left the house with a bag of clothes. He inexplicably told me he was afraid I would make something up and call the police on him.  He told his parents and my son that he couldn’t come back to the house unless someone was with him for protection.

Christmas was ruined and it looked like it was my fault. Brilliant move.

My sister was so mad that I had let him bait me again she shouted at me!  I don’t think she has shouted at me since I was 9.

I only have one thing I have to remember in order to get through this nightmare in one piece. Absolutely definitely NO CONTACT!

I can do it.

I Know What This Looks Like…

Published on by cmglife

I may have devoured a rotisserie chicken while driving home, but at least  I didn’t stop at Carl Jr’s and ruin my diet plan.  

Good Samaritan or Crazy Person?

Published on by cmglife

Recently, I was minding my own business driving to the library when something caught my eye. Two people were making unnatural movements on the sidewalk along the side of the library.  It took a minute for my brain to translate what my eyes were seeing. First, two women fighting.  Second, a lot of blood.

I don’t know what other people would’ve done, but after the last realization it all clicked and I stopped the car, almost pulling to the curb. As I got out, the other women ran and got into the passenger side of the truck in front of me and sped off (she must’ve heard of me and my bad ass reputation)!

I got to the bleeding woman and asked her what I could do, not realizing the severity of the situation.  She sat down on the grass and said call 911.  She didn’t even say it sarcastically or with a condensing tone with which I would have expected from such a stupid question.

I ran back to my car to get my phone and called 911.  I ran to the hatchback and grabbed the wipes that had been left by Emily on her last visit.

I applied pressure to the deep gash above her eye.  Blood was everywhere, it was pooling on her chest. The 911 dispatcher asked me a lot of questions and I relayed the information between the girl and her. That is how I found out the reason for all the violence.  Amanda said the weapon was metal, like a pipe or a wrench.  She had broken up with her boyfriend and the new girlfriend had accused her of stealing clothes.  Sounds like a solid reason for attempted murder to me.

I continued try to comfort her, telling her the ambulance was on it’s way and then she would be okay.  I said we should listen for the sirens (exactly what I was saying to Allison the night of the seizure). She seemed to be breathing strangely.  I told her over and over to breath slower and deeper.  Every baby wipe I applied to the wound filled right away.

10 minutes and 100 bloody wipes later, I finally heard the sirens.

Revealed, I left her to the EMTs.  I picked up the blood soaked wipe and her purse and carried them to the ambulance.  Then I had to run back because I realized I had put my phone in her purse.

I didn’t realize how shaken I was until I started to write a statement and my hand wouldn’t stop shaking. I was writing illegible nonsense.  I told the police officer I wasn’t making any sense.  He was really kind and asked if I just wanted to take it home and he would pick it up.  The thought of the police coming to my house and having to prolong this nightmare propelled me into tough mode and I said I would start again, but first let me melt into a pile of tears.  It took me a few minutes, I recovered, stopped shaking and wrote down what I had witnessed.

A little bit of reflection…no one stopped to help us in the ten minutes we waited for the ambulance!  We couldn’t have been missed!  Amanda with blood pouring down her face and me, propping her up with bloody tissues surrounding me on the grass. I really could have used the help.

I was back home telling the story to Allison when I realized something.  What if when I jumped out of the car, the woman with the weapon came after me?  What if the driver of the car jumped out with a gun and shot me? The list of bodily injuries that could have been delivered on me was massive!  It was like the time recently when a woman and her dogs were being attacked by a pit bull in the street.  I did the same thing! Stopped my car and jumped out to help. Just what the hell was my plan?  Get ripped to shreds along with the dogs and their owner?

If a situation like this happens again, I am going to try to park, STAY IN CAR and dial 911! I may have gotten away with being a good Samaritan this time, but next time I might be a dead person.  I hope it doesn’t take me being killed to realize this.