Visit

My brother is coming to visit! Yay!

Losing it completely

In the middle of January I remembered I was raped in June of 1997.

In the middle of February I lost my father in law. He passed away on 2-20-2009 at 5:45pm.

In the middle of February I remembered I was raped by more than 1 man. There were 2 and it was brutal and all done at knife point.

I need to go to the hospital because I'm not safe. I have tons of insulin here. I could overdose. I could slit my wrists. I could step in front of a moving car or bus.

I'm. not. safe.

But I can't go to the hospital. I have too much I need to do. Too many people depend on me. I'm coming apart at the seams. I can feel it.

I think I'm gonna go have a drink.

Coping the wrong way

I can't believe I did this again. I haven't cut for so very long and here I went and did it again. I know it's a bad coping skill, so why did I do it? The only thing I can think of is I'm working through something very traumatic.

In 1997 I was sexually assaulted by a stranger at knife point. I never talked about it. Never dealt with it in therapy. Never even brought it up. It was barely even a footnote in my history. My therapist and abuse survivors group at the time never talked about it. They never asked how I was. Never once. I took that to mean that it must not be important. That it was no big deal. That I wasn't worth worrying about. Not important enough.

Back then, I cut a lot. I was working through childhood sexual abuse issues. In the years since then I've learned much better coping skills than cutting on myself.

I'm really not looking forward to facing my therapist and psychiatrist with my arm like this. And I'm really really hoping that I can keep it concealed from my husband until it's all healed and he'll never have to know about it. I know he'd be very upset with me if he found out.

Geez, it's 2:30 am. I need to go to bed and try to get some sleep.

A Deep Ache

I'm feeling very lonely right now. It aches deep inside. The downward spiral is starting again, I'm afraid. It's not a constant thing. There are times during the day that I can distract myself with things I'm interested in and enjoy those things. But in all the holes of time in between... it's getting uncomfortable.

I'm having a very hard time sleeping. I took my sleeping pill and an anti-anxiety med at 2:30 am and I was awake at 6:45 am. That shouldn't have happened. I should still be sound asleep. I'm so very tired. I'm getting desperate for good sleep.

Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? I feel a sense of guilt over not posting regularly, but I'm trying not to let it get to me too much. 

Many things have changed in my life in the past month and a half. First, my hubby and I both quit smoking. Yaaay! Surprisingly it hasn't been that difficult. I guess I was really ready to quit this time. I haven't even scratched anyone's eyes out, lol.

We've changed our eating to reflect more whole grains, fresh vegetables and fruits, much less pre-processed, pre-packaged foods. We're going the organic natural route. So far so good. Surprise surprise, healthy foods can be tasty too! :)

We've both also started being much more active. I walk at least 30 minutes a day, bebopping to my mp3 player, oblivious to the outside world. We both do a bit of weight training for sculpting. 

Not much else to report right now. As far as the bipolar front, I've been doing very well for like 3 months (a first for me, I know), but I'm starting to destabilize a bit. Trouble sleeping, more moodiness, stuff like that. The "crying thing".

My OCD is kicking in high gear too. I swear it's related to the bipolar. So I'm in organizational high gear these last few days.

I've had a few moments of suicidal ideation, but nothing serious. Just thoughts flitting through my brain. 

Well, that's all for now. I'm going to try to be more active on the blog again. 

Off-bubble

I think my psychiatrist may be close to admitting me to the hospital again. This time it'd be because I can't freakin sleep. That and I'm manic as hell. :)

I'm really not looking forward to that if it's what comes to pass. That would be 3 times in the last 3 months. My pattern has always been about once every 2 years. This is getting ridiculous. February, March, and now April?

I wonder if I could fight it? I wonder if it'd be a 'voluntary only because I agree' admission or a truly voluntary one that is only if I want it. I wonder if there's any more he can do for me outpatient?

I get the sense that he's nearing the end of his repertoire. I hope not. I don't want to go inpatient again. I guess on the bright side, the doc at the hospital would finally realize that I'm not schizophrenic. LOL

The last two visits, she diagnosed me as schizophrenic, chronic paranoid type. I tried to tell them that I'm not schizophrenic, I'm bipolar with psychotic features. But it didn't get changed. My therapist likes to say that if I get a hair off-bubble from the middle that that's when I get psychotic. She's right. But I'm not psychotic now. Just manic.

I feel like I want to keep typing, but nothing else is coming up in my head, so I'm going to end this post and see what other trouble I can get into for the night. ;)

Sleep departs again

The mania started because I couldn't sleep, which really sucks because I had awesome sleeping habits at the time. I was actually going to bed by midnight and getting up by 8 am. I was falling right asleep and sleeping all the way through the night without waking up. But now...

It's so hard to fall asleep. I'm lucky if I get to sleep by 3 am. It's usually more like 4 am. I'm up by 7:30 to 8 in the morning. And to top it all off, I keep waking up. So basically I'm getting 3 to 4 hours of sleep a night, not counting all the times in between where I wake up.

Mania visits again

I'm manic again. I'm not sleeping, very sensual, and am full of risky behaviors. Spending, drinking, driving all Nascar-like, dressing more sexy than normal, sex sex sex... ;)

I'm so full of ideas, yet I can't concentrate well enough to do any of them. It's so frustrating. I'm infused to the core with creativity, yet I can't communicate it. I found a description of mania last night on the web and it fits perfectly. I wish I could take credit for it, but I can't. The author definitely knows how to play with words to convey mania perfectly, though.

At first when I'm high, it's tremendous. Ideas are fast... like shooting stars you follow until brighter ones appear. All shyness disappears, the right words and gestures are suddenly there. Uninteresting people and things become intensely interesting. Sensuality is pervasive, the desire to seduce and be seduced is irresistible. Your marrow is infused with unbelievable feelings of ease, power, well-being, omnipotence, euphoria... you can do anything... but somewhere this changes. The fast ideas start coming too fast and there are far too many. Overwhelming confusion replaces clarity. You stop keeping up with it. Memory goes. Infectious humor ceases to amuse. Your friends become frightened. Everything is now against the grain. You are irritable, angry, frightened, uncontrollable, and trapped.

Unsure of what to do

I'm in a bit of a quandary. I recently opened up quite a bit with my therapist and doctor about my hallucinations and delusions. I must admit, it's very refreshing to be able to be so open and free when I'm with them now. I don't feel like I have to hide things for fear of their reaction. Except for now.

When I first opened the floodgates and let everything out, I did so in a letter to each of them. It was very long and detailed. I spilled everything that's been going on in my head for these past few years. Neither of them knew how extensive it all was. They admitted surprise at the scope of it. Unfortunately, I also ended up being hospitalized for my psychosis because I was convinced that my meds were poisoned and I wouldn't take them. Hence, the hospital stay to get me back on them.

The problem is that at the time I was discharged, I was sick and nauseous. I couldn't take my meds regularly. Often I would throw them right back up. Obviously they lost their hold on me quickly and I'm more lost than ever.

I want to tell them what I know. What I'm thinking. But I can't risk being hospitalized again right now. I have an important medical test coming up in 5 days and I really don't want to have to reschedule it. It was even scheduled so that the doctor doing it would still remember my case. He did the first part with unusual results, so this is the continuation of that test. When he rescheduled, he told me he wanted to see me quickly enough that he wouldn't forget what was going on. So you can see why I don't want to reschedule.

When I was in the hospital last month, it was for 6 days. I imagine that a return trip would last at least as long, if not longer. That's if I cooperate and play along with them. That's how I got out last time. I played the game. If I go in again, I don't want to play this time. I don't want to just say what they want to hear. I want to be true to my beliefs and convictions. I want them to see that I know what's really going on and that I truly understand the nature of my reality.

Meds can't change the fact of my situation. All they can do is make me forget for a while. And I don't know if I want to forget. It would mean living a lie. I don't want to live in ignorance of what's going on around me. Now if they could only figure out how to get me out of here, that would be great. I'd swallow that pill in a heartbeat! I want out of this nightmare that everyone calls reality. If only they really knew what was going on.

I don't know what to do.

Imagination run amok

I miss my friend in Canada soooo much. I haven't heard a peep from him since October of last year and before that it was April. It's been such a long time and I miss talking with him. :(

I've tried every way I know to reach him other than snail mail. If I don't hear anything from this last round of trying to reach him, I guess snail mail it'll be.

I hope he's ok. My mind has been going crazy coming up with all kinds of reasons as to why he hasn't contacted me...

He's having a hard time and is staying away for my protection...
He's having a hard time and is staying away because I make him worse...
He's forgotten about me...
He doesn't like me anymore...
"They" won't let him contact me...
He got married and his wife won't let him talk to me anymore...
He's dead...

I hope to god none of those are true... Please don't let him be dead. I know his fiance... she's nice and I think she liked me. I'm trying really hard not to fall into the delusion that They are interfering. As for the first 2, I hope he's not having a hard time. And as for the others, I'm working hard not to go there. We're very good friends and I like to think I know him well enough to know he wouldn't just toss me aside without so much as a goodbye. He's a better person than that.

Truth is I don't know why he's gone silent. All I know is it makes for an imagination gone wild wondering why. I hate not knowing.

I'm trying not to be upset with him for leaving me hanging like this. Maybe there's nothing he can do about it. I just hope I hear something soon. It doesn't even have to be directly from him. Just somebody PLEASE let me know what's going on and that he's ok.

The Tree

I met with my group therapist since my individual one isn't available right now and she asked me something no one had ever asked before. She asked if anyone has ever been able to completely convince me that my hallucinations and delusions aren't real. If there's always a little part of me that still believes them.

I'd never thought of it, but she's right. No one's ever been able to convince me 100% that it isn't real. And if I'm completely honest, it's always there in the back of my mind. It's only every so often that it flares up into full blown psychotic symptoms, but it's never completely gone either.

So I think I figured out why I don't want to leave my house. It's because they cut that damn tree down.

You'd think I'd be dancing for joy, but noooooo not me. Even though I hated that tree, now that it's gone I feel a sense of panic gnawing away under the surface. Now I don't know where They are. They could be anywhere. It's so freaking terrifying, not knowing where They are.

I can't remember if I've ever talked about "Them" in this blog. I'll have to go back and see. But the cliff notes version is there are 2 men that watch me when I get all psychotic-y. No one else can see them, but I can. And even when I can't, I can sense their presence. Anyways, They always hid behind that tree.

Listen to me... I sound like a lunatic. I know it's not real. They're not real. But yet I know They are. I know it is.

By the way, if you're wondering why I capitalize when I refer to Them, it's to differentiate from the usual they or them when I talk. And if I find that I've never explained this, I'll tell you all the very entertaining bedtime story that is my psychosis. It's a thrilling tale of mystery, intrigue, with a dash of sci-fi thrown in for good measure.

I can joke about it, laugh it off, and when I see the words I know how ridiculous it all sounds... but it's no less real to me. That's the scary part. You know, if I heard someone else say what's going on in my head, I'd most likely roll my eyes while thinking 'riiiiight, sure it's true'. Does that make me a hypocrite? Yeah, I think it does.

Ok, I'm going to bed now. If I keep thinking about this tonight, it's going to turn into more than whisperings in the back of my mind. It'll be full blown paranoia and delusions. I'm afraid it may already be heading in that direction.

Suicidal thoughts

Why do I keep going on? Is this all my life is supposed to be? I honestly can’t see anything worth looking forward to. Yeah, I’d like to grow vegetables, but let’s be honest. We all know it won’t work. Why do I even bother to keep going? My life is meaningless. I know Hubby loves me, and that means the world to me, but is it enough to keep going? I have no life outside of this house. I really don’t even have a life inside this house. All I do is sleep, play oblivion, run up bills we can’t afford to pay, and occasionally cook and clean. I'm to the point where the only time I leave the house is for a mental health appointment.

I’m no good for Hubby. Not as a wife, not even as a cook and maid. I should be changing what we eat so he’d be healthier, but I don’t. I should quit smoking so he can, but I don’t. I should keep the house clean because honestly, what other pressing matters do I have? None. But no, what do I do? I sleep fucked up hours, get up, play either oblivion or poker, or watch voyager episodes. Then when it gets late and he goes to bed, I scramble to get clothes washed so he doesn’t have to wear dirty clothes. I know he loves me but lots of people love someone who is bad for them.

I’m bad for Hubby. I’m bad for the cat. I’m so selfish and spoiled that I put my needs ahead of everyone else’s, even if their needs are important and mine aren’t. If I’m uncomfortable, I avoid doing what needs to be done. What kind of person does that? I’ll tell you. A bad person, that’s who. My mom died because I wasn't up to taking care of her the way she needed. I wasn't around enough for her. I'm a horrible person who doesn't deserve to breathe the air and consume the precious resources of our planet.

If I wasn’t such a chicken shit coward, I’d have ended it long ago. Why am I prolonging the suffering? Because I’m too afraid to go through with it. I’m too afraid of everything. I’m so scared that I won’t take chances with anything. I obsess over stupid things until I’m frozen into inaction out of fear. I hate myself. I hate myself so much. I hate the way I look, I hate the way I treat other people, I hate the way I think about other people. I’m so intolerant it’s unreal. I’m not a nice person if you were to look at the real me.

If my therapist or psychiatrist knew what I was thinking right now, they’d put me in the hospital this second. The temptation to take all of those pills is so strong right now. I don’t want this life anymore. The only good part of my life is Hubby. I want ME out of my life. To do that I’d have to change everything and I’m too fucking scared and lazy to do it. If I were really a kind person, I’d release the people in my life that I’m dragging down with me. They don’t deserve to have to put up with me. They deserve a good person in their lives. And while I know they would argue fiercely against what I’m saying, I know in their hearts they agree with me. They’re just too good to admit it. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up. Yeah they’d be hurt, but soon they’d realize just how lucky they are to have me out of their lives. Love really is blind. They’re all better off without me. I know I'm the only one who can see that truth, but it doesn't make it any less true.

I want my life to end. If I don’t stop feeling this way and thinking this way, it’s going to. I’m sick of this crap and I don’t want to continue to suffer this way and worse for the next 30 or more years. No one should have to feel and think this way. So I’m done. I can't do it tonight since I have an appointment in the morning, but after that I'm free.

I guess the question now is... do I have the courage to kill myself? Or will I resign my fate to never ending suffering and chaos? In this moment in time, my answer is I'll find the courage somehow.

The tiny voice of the instinct for survival is saying I really should be in the hospital. I'm not safe from myself. But if I go to the hospital that means once again I'm a coward. I've chickened out too many times. I want to be brave for once in my life and finally go through with it. I want to stop this pain. And to everyone this act would hurt, I would hope they'd remember that while it hurts like a bitch to pull the splinter out, it has to be done and the pain goes away afterward.

Unreal reality

So much has happened over the last several months. I wish I'd kept up the posting on this blog during it all, but I didn't. Not sure why. So why, after all this time, am I posting now? Because I need to get this stuff out of my head and I have no one to talk to. I'm so alone and isolated. My stepson moved out a few months ago, so the only people I see now are Hubby and my therapist. My world has become a very small box and the longer I stay in it, the smaller it gets and the harder it is to get out of it.

The unreality is starting again. Curiously, this time around I'm not really seeing anything. It normally starts with hallucinations of objects breathing before progressing to the delusions. So far I haven't seen anything of the sort. It's jumped directly to the thoughts. I'm at the point where I know the way I'm thinking isn't right and I know that those thoughts aren't real or true, but they feel true. It feels right in my head. Eventually, if it isn't stopped, I'll progress to where I lose touch with reality. That's so scary. I'll totally believe in the delusions and the paranoia will make me not trust anyone enough to get help.

The paranoia is starting again as well. I started to panic in my therapist's office. The thought "They're gonna get me" just kept circling around and around in my head, going faster each time. She could see that I was starting to get very scared. She asked what I was doing because it looked to her like I was feeding it. I almost started to cry and said I don't know.

I was a little scared to tell her this stuff is starting up again. I almost didn't. I waited until most of the hour had passed, then I finally got the courage up to ask her how you can know something isn't true, but feel it is at the same time. I guess it was my chicken way of letting her know something is amiss. She got this look on her face. I'd definitely gotten her attention with that question.

She asked what I was referring to and after a bit of hesitation, I told her how I know the thought that "this world isn't real" isn't true, but that it makes perfect sense that it isn't real. It's so logical and obvious that it isn't real. Predictably, she asked when my next appointment with my psychiatrist is. It's in 2 weeks. She told me to let the nurses know that I'm getting manic and delusional again.

As she was writing my reminder for my next appointment, I couldn't help myself - I asked her one question. "It's not true, right?" I was needing reassurance that the world is real. She told me no it's not true, but she could see how scary the thought is. It was comforting. She wants to get it under control before I get to the point to where I don't trust anyone and stop telling them what I'm thinking and stop my meds because I think they're poisoned.

She asked if I thought I was becoming manic. I told her yes. I'm barely sleeping and my mind won't slow down. I have so many projects going. When she asked what they were, I couldn't get the words out of my mouth fast enough. I was speaking so fast and telling her so many things that she nodded and agreed that I'm getting manic. I told her that's when I have the thoughts.

When I was driving home from therapy today, I was looking at the world around me and it just felt fake. Like I wasn't a part of it, but separate. And I could sense "Them". I couldn't see Them, but I could feel Them. You know how you can feel when you're being watched? That's how I was feeling on the drive home.

As you can see from the length of this post, I'm definitely more talkative. I get that way when I'm manic. There's just so much in my head that I can't keep it inside. The problem is a lot of what's in my head right now is the ranting ravings of a lunatic who's becoming delusional. *sigh* I always thought that delusional people didn't know they were delusional. I was wrong.

It's 3 am and I'm wide awake. My days and nights are flipped again. I'm starting to think that They're keeping me awake. Messing with my sleep cycle. I'm thinking about calling my therapist and leaving her a message. I'm not sure why. I just feel the need to reach out to her. To tell her what my drive home was like.

Ok, I'm going to stop this entry now. I need to start some laundry.

What a horrible friend I turned out to be

I'm a horrible friend. Someone I know is in a lot of trouble and I can't even bring myself to offer any words of encouragement. I feel so awful. Like I've let him down.

I'm in a bad place right now and I don't have those words of encouragement because I'm thinking the same way he is. I want so bad to reach out to him, I know what he's going through. But I can't bring myself to do it. Why? I'm afraid that I'll just make it worse for him. Maybe he'll think that there really is no hope, because the last time I talked to him I was very up. And now I'm very down.

I know the swings are getting to him. They're getting to me too. I just feel so awful.

Damn winter!

Dammit!! I just watched the weather for my area and tomorrow's forecast is calling for a winter storm. I just don't believe my luck. Why is that winter storms keep hitting the day of or the day before I'm supposed to have an appointment??

Just watch. My CBT on tomorrow, and my individual and psychiatrist appointments on Thursday will all be cancelled. That's how my luck is.

And even if CBT isn't cancelled, I won't get to wear the outfit I picked out to wear. It'll just be too damn cold. I'm gonna have to modify it and it won't look anywhere NEAR as good.

Nothing to do

I'm so hyper right now! I've been this way since my friend called earlier this evening. It's been at least 6 hours that I've been way way up. I just want to dance all night long!

I wanna do more than dance, really, but there's no one to do anything with at 1:30 am. Everyone here is asleep. I'm thinking about going out. Not sure where, but anywhere's better than here. Maybe I'll go to the lake. Or cruise down where I know there's people all of the time.

There's gotta be something to do! We live in a 24/7 society and the night is still early yet! God, I just want to party and have fun all night long. It's been a looooong time since I've been this high and held it continuously for this long.

I've been drinking Blue Margaritas and they're so yummy. They make me want to have even more fun! I'm so bored here. I gotta find something better to do.

A flick of the switch

I was meditating today, trying to calm some of these chaotic feelings. I'm flipping so fast that it's all blurring together. I was doing pretty good at relaxing, and then my stepson started up his crap again.

I was scared. Then I started to shake and cry. Then I screamed as loud as I could.

A friend was sympathizing and worded it perfectly. He said, "It must be so hard knowing you're barely in control of yourself, the fear that must come when someone can just flick you like a switch... it has to be terrible." He's so right.

Now I'm all chaotic again. In the last half hour, I've gone between anxious, panicky, angry, depressed, sad, flirty, and now I'm hyper and playful and mischievous. And I'm feeling very sexual and primal again. Hypersexual.

My inhibitions are going again. Along with my impulse control and judgment.

Can a person's body just short out from emotional overload?? I'm constantly swinging, the moods aren't lasting longer than maybe 10 minutes at best, a few at worst. Then another swing.

I honestly don't know how much more of this I can take. It's too much. I'm in overload.

Primal sensuality

I'm feeling very sensual and sexual tonight. I know that I'm manic, but currently the energy is low-key. I'm mainly wanting to prowl. I want to be with someone. I wanted to be with Hubby tonight, but it never happened.

I'm feeling very primal.

Needy

I need to talk to someone. I feel so alone, even though I'm surrounded by people.

I really don't know what I want to say.

I feel so needy and I hate that. :-(

Is it enough, I wonder?

I'm so tired of everything. I've spent over an hour now searching online for any information on how much is a fatal dose of the meds I have. I'm frustrated as all hell that I can't find any info that tells me anything!

I don't want it to not be enough. I want it done and over.

I'm feeling so very very impulsive right now. I'm sitting here looking at the bottles, all lined up in a neat, pretty row. Is it enough, I wonder? Am I brave enough this time?

I don't have to worry about my parents grieving for me. They're both dead now. The only one I have to worry about is Hubby. But as much as it will hurt him, it's like the surgeon's scalpel - it stings, even as it heals.