Tag: bipolar II

Sin City – Day 2

Published on by cmglife

We were all ready to go by 4:30 for the cab ride out to the speedway. I kept checking my phone for weather updates. My forecast read 46 for night time. 75% of the people on our team were from North Dakota and the rest (John and I) had just come from -1. A night time temperature of 46 degrees! I almost wore my swimsuit under the fleece coat, hat, boots, mittens and scarf.

At the speedway, the cars started roaring around the track like something out of Mad Max; armored body and huge tires in the front.  The cars left a big billow cloud of dust behind them. It got in my eyes, mouth and nose. I thought at first I was the only one who was bothered until I saw several people wearing ski goggles.

I did so much arbitrary drinking while I was in Vegas. It didn’t matter where or what time it was. I had Bailey’s in my coffee at the track, but then I think it made me nauseous watching the race cars go round and round.

In between races there was nothing to do except drink “coffee” and talk about engines. As much as I love that topic, Ashley kept me interested with tales from the Midwest in a small North Dakota town. Why do I never hear stories like these from my friends? These were really juicy. Pregnancies, infidelity, divorce, custody, drugs and you name it from Jerry Springer and it was happening to someone she knew.

At midnight it was finally over! John called a cab.  We were so close to going back to our hotel room! The taxi service said they would be out in 20 minutes so we began walking through hundreds of cars and campers parked in “the pit”.  As we arrived at the gate a taxi pulled up.  I grabbed for the door handle before the cab came to a stop. After a few comments on how quick the cab driver had gotten there it was obvious we had someone else’s cab. I didn’t say anything! I needed to get out of there…

“Sorry, sucker, I’m taking this cab!”

My sister said I had lost all human decency at that race.

Momentary Setback

Published on by cmglife

What a monumental task it is to get into the groove of your life after a setback. Everyone has different setbacks and I’m sure there are some people who have no setbacks or at least will never admit it to themselves.

My setbacks always seemed to have to do with mood swings which I used to put down to PMS. It is amazing all the things a woman with undiagnosed mental illness can blame on the ebb and flow of normal female hormones.

The recent setback I had was going off Abilify. My doctor thought he might be duplicating the effect of medication because he had just upped the dosages on two of the others I’m taking. We agreed to try it.  I was all gung ho because I wondered if it was the reason for my weight gain.  He didn’t have to ask me twice!

I was fine for the first week except for the withdrawal symptoms, excessive sweating and dizziness. I was asking everyone in the office; is it hot in here or is it me? They were all convinced I was having premenopausal hot flashes.

Luckily, I had asked my doctor the last time I had a bout of depression what were the signs to watch for. I can’t decipher the difference between what I’m feeling and what should be normal. He gave me a simple parameter to follow: If you feel like you don’t want to wake up the next morning it’s time to call me.

This time I was feeling a lot of anxiety and depression, but as usual I wanted to be macho and try to face it. Again, what is me and what is normal? I started taking the Abilify again last Saturday and I am already looking back in amazement. The person I am today, literally today…October 27 and the person I was last week are like night and day.

I am constantly grateful that I am living in this day and age, found the right doctor and have health insurance.   Life is good.

The Final Cocktail

Published on by cmglife

I think this final cocktail of medicine is really working for me. One side effect of being so level is I have nothing to write about anymore. At least not anything from my old point of view. I just wanted to let everyone know to hang in there if you are waiting for more frequent installments from me. As history probably will repeat it’s self I should be writing again next month.

I went to my doctor today and told him I was feeling really good, but as I said that I felt kind of embarrassed. I tell him the same thing every other visit. Last time it was crushing anxiety, then happy and before that terrible depression. He tweaks the drugs and councils as he has been doing for years. I do like him because he trusts me and, therefore, I trust him.

It didn’t used to be that way. For the first few years of being diagnosed with Bipolar II I was very rebellious. I knew I wasn’t happy with my old self but I felt so flat with my new self. After 44 years one does get used to the ups and downs no matter how they destroyed me. I rebelled by screwing around with my medicine and dosages to try to get a little “life” back into my life. I know I didn’t used to drink wine every night like I have been for the past 5 years. I know why I do it. It is to change my feelings. It is a little blast from the past of the old days. I wonder at what point do I start to worry about the wine? My sister says, “Oh for goodness sake, let yourself have one crutch”. She doesn’t worry about it so I won’t.

The next step will be enjoying the new strength I feel when I have to go up to the customer service and exchange something, get gas in the car, etc. I know it sounds crazy. Anxiety is brutal on normal day to day activities.

What Next?

Published on by cmglife

A little confused tonight as to how to look at my life. It’s been four years since I set out on this journey.  For the first time since then I feel really well. It’s almost what I imagined life to be. You know, being normal.

I am still a little sensitive to mood changes though. Every time I have a different feeling I wonder if it is normal or are my moods shifting again because of my “special” brain chemicals.

The depression is gone! The highs are gone! I feel regular all the time. What does that do for me? Not sure yet.

I’ve been going along at a pretty good pace. When summer break began I had a list on two sides of the paper. It has been reduced to one of those skinny magnetic grocery lists that hang on the fridge. Good for me, but what happens when I run out of things to do frantically?

I know what I’ve gained, but what I will lose?  It can’t possibly remain the same. Will I begin to lose my energy? How about the ability to write anything worth reading? Sense of humor? God, no.  Anything, but that.

 

Full Circle

Published on by cmglife

I was going to write about my juice fast I’ve been on for four days. I say, I was, until I realized how I must be boring everyone with diet after diet.

I thought I’d write about my son, 18, who just graduated and has overnight turned into a horrible version of himself. More of the same, dull.

How about my bipolar II condition? Then I thought, do I capitalize the “b” in bipolar and do I use roman numerals for the “II” or the numeral “2”.

Obviously, sidetracked I started to write about my love of Adam Lambert and U2 (do you know I met Bono) (yes, yes, I did!).  Adam’s next (dare to dream)!

I wrote about the silly predicaments I get myself into. For instance, I kept biting the inside of my lip every time I cheated and ate on the four day juice fast (Karma I think). It’s going to take at least four days to heal!

See, somehow I have written about all the same boring things, but I have come full circle. That makes me feel better, you know, finishing things.

Trauma Lite

Published on by cmglife2 Comments

Things that stick with me…I have to blame a lot on my delicate mental condition, not everything, but a few things. Does anyone else have situations that haunt them with humiliation years after they have happened? Every once in a while they pop up as a random memory. I dwell on them for a few minutes, realize I am doing it and cast those memories aside. I’m keeping this light, so I’m not going to reveal some of the more traumatic stories.

Here it is: “Traumatic Lite”.

  1. Got so nervous at an interview typing test that the manager questioned if I could even type at all. She was actually mad. Must’ve thought I was trying to pull one over on her. (60 wpm actually.)
  2. Burnt a hole with a cigarette in the seat of John’s new Toyota pickup. Spent all day trying to see if I could replace the upholstery until I finally had to give in and tell him. (I don’t smoke anymore.)
  3. Rear ending a car because my breaks hadn’t been fixed. I pumped as much as I could all while smoking a cigarette, drinking a diet coke and blasting U2 on the stereo. The only thing missing was texting. Thank god they didn’t have that when I was a teenager, I, or someone else, would’ve been dead by now.
  4. A huge fundraiser I had organized. I was supposed to leave my house at 4am. Overslept until 6am. So late I couldn’t take Emily to daycare and had to take her with me. She cried the entire time with the co-worker that had to take her while I ran the event. Then I got “talked to” by my boss.
  5. One boss said to me, “We miss you when you’re not here”. Interpretation: You are taking too many “mental health” days.
  6. Left my VW running in gear with the emergency brake on at my dad’s house. Strangely, it lunged forward and ran straight into my dad’s new siding.
  7. Forgetting my keys and trying to get in the basement window. I pushed on the glass and the whole window fell in. Try explaining that to your husband!

Oh, too many to name. I’m sure everyone’s list is longer than this. Things really haven’t changed. Things like “Wardrobe Malfunctions” and misunderstanding people happen on an almost daily basis.

Dancing Queen

Published on by cmglife

I used to be a great dancer on the floors of 3.2 clubs back in the 80’s.  Oh, yeah, I had the moves.  I was all decked out in the slouch boots, mini dress with a hip belt. Looking like a Madonna knock off.  I had the mile high bangs and bangles. Good times.

I don’t know what I would now days if a good song came on and I felt like dancing.  I’m not even talking about in front of someone; I mean alone. Just me, the house and my headphones.  The best I can do is walk across the house to the “beat” while I’m cleaning.  Pathetic.

What if I wanted to go to a concert?  What would I do? Stand there and just clap?  Are you going to a concert you ask? Well, no, but if I was…. I love to worry about things that aren’t happening.  I do have to be prepared for every situation you see.

So if I did have tickets to a concert to… I don’t know, to someone like…oooh I don’t know…Adam Lambert?   Do I go on YouTube and look for a how to dance video?  Yes, I do.  The only problem is they are all for young women.  While I do feel young at heart I don’t think the rest of the world sees me quite in the same light.

I need to figure out how to move in a mature but not “mature” manner .  God, that last sentence made me sound old.

I’ve got it! Can I just do the old sway with a lighter move? Do you think that will that pass as dancing?

Puzzle From Hell

Published on by cmglife

Oh, how we persevered, puzzle from hell!

As I was picking it out at Barnes and Noble, Emily said, “No, Mom, it’s too complicated and too many pieces.”

No, I thought, I like the picture and that is all I could focus on.  The fact it was 1000 pieces of 100 cartoon horses seemed to be a non-issue.

I feel like I do this a lot; in fact I have kind of a reputation in my family of not seeing the big picture.  To me it doesn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason so it is hard for me to correct.  I know my loved ones would disagree.  They seem to see the common denominators in these situations and try to point them out to me before I take that fatal step.  Sometimes it’s something benign like the puzzle and sometimes quite severe like moving to a town with less than 800 people.

Well, this puzzle has become a metaphor for mine and Emily’s life together.

We persevered until it was done.  Even though it took up half the dining room table and we made everyone squish at one end to eat, we did not give in.  After two days, we did not give in. We did it together until we were seeing double. Then one would take a break and the other would continue.  Tristan came by and helped a bit.  Allison stuck in there for a few minutes until she announced every time, “I hate puzzles!”

When it was finally done and we realized there were three pieces missing, we felt annoyed for a minute and then let it roll off our backs.  We did everything we could do and it was enough.

The puzzle was just like us, a little broken, but we could see the big picture.

Full House

Published on by cmglife

I have a full house this week of Christmas break.

And just how do you think I am handling the situation?  You would be right, not well, not well at all.  Tonight I took an anti anxiety pill I reserve for emergencies; second time in my life to use it. The first time I took one I actually had a panic attack. I was afraid what it would do to me.  Irony at it’s best, the drug is to prevent panic attacks.  Ha Ha Ha, what a crack up I am!

I wasn’t going to have a panic attack, but I was getting quite anxious knowing that my in-laws were joining my daughter, son in law and granddaughter (they were here first) at our house for a few days.  On top of that I will be entertaining a cousin and his family.  Oh, yeah then there are John’s friends.  I tend to be a bit of an introvert so having this many people and for so long is wearing my nerves down.

They mean well, but when my sister-in-law starts telling me about people she knows, their names, their children’s names, their spouse’s names and their pets’ names, breed, age and gender.  After I learn all of that there is the list of jobs each of them has, how great the jobs are and their co-workers.  Half way through the evening I am so agitated from boredom, but trying to be polite and pay attention even by asking pertinent questions when I think appropriate. After two hours of this I feel like drowning myself in the kitchen sink.

Tonight I couldn’t take it, even though I had mother’s little helper swimming through my blood stream I begged off saying I was too tired and must go to bed.  I sneaked the laptop into the bedroom and here I sit with headphones on writing to save my sanity for tomorrow.

I do most of this for my husband. I have to step up. Wait a minute, he was gone a suspiciously long time getting groceries just after they arrived.  He didn’t have a good explanation of why it took one and half hours to spend $100 dollars. Coward.

Exposed

Published on by cmglife

Lately I’ve been writing less than positive posts. While I’m trying to express a different side of myself I feel like they have fallen short of the way I really feel.  I have always had to laugh things off to get through life and as I’ve gotten older it’s the only the thing that has kept me alive.

Everyday life, while medicated and feeling so much better being leveled out, is still a tremendous struggle.  I am who I am.  That will not change.  I still suffer from general anxiety, social anxiety, lack of confidence and all the things left in the wake of living a life of undiagnosed mental illness in a cruel world.

Don’t get me wrong I know I am very funny (wink) and I would never deprive the world of that.

It just helps to reveal one’s real self sometimes a little bit. (Yeah, that was convincing).  I’m obviously still resistant.  I am used to the mask.  I’m used to acting my way through life.  Watching, learning and mimicking other people’s reactions to things.

Right now, writing this and then eventually posting it has me feeling very exposed.