I give up

I give up. There's no hope for me. There never will be because of this fucking bipolar. Unless and until they find a cure for it, I'm screwed. I'll never be able to start fresh. The bipolar will just continue to hunt me down and kill me. :(

A new me for 2007

I was reading a post on Suicide Forum and it rocked me to the core. It really got me thinking about where I wanted my life to go from here. A man who is wise beyond his 20 years said something that's elegantly simple, yet so many people never think of it. Or think they can't do it.

But you know, what I've learned in CBT is that you really do have control over how you think and feel. And his post spoke to me. The gist of it is using the New Year to start fresh. Figure out what you don't like about yourself and change it. I responded to his post (if you read down, I'm bipolarkitty).

I hope all of you will read his post and the responses. Some of the responders are able to see the possibility of change, but sadly others are in so much pain that they think either it won't work or it's too late for them. I hope that all of you who read it are able to see the possibility.

I, for one, am giving it a shot. I'm committed to making true and lasting change in my life.

I'll let you all know how it goes. :)

Only a question of when and how

My therapist confirmed that I'm having a mixed episode right now. Problem is, with the exception of August, I've been mixed since April of this year. That's 8 very long months of sheer agony. I've had enough.

I don't know why this is happening. I never had a mixed episode before this year. I was always either up or down or fine. But it seems my illness has taken a turn in how it manifests itself, and it's left me reeling.

I feel like I'm going backward. I used to be so good at knowing exactly how I felt. But now it's very hard to define how I feel. The lines between emotions are so blurry. I'm reduced to either I feel "good" or "bad". There's so much more underneath, I just can't form it into words. If I feel bad and I'm asked what does bad mean or what am I thinking about, all I can hear is screaming in my head. No thought, no reason - only screams of anger and pain and fear.

And here I thought I couldn't go any crazier.

My therapist asked me Thursday if I was going to be safe when I left his office. I didn't want to answer him because I knew what my answer was. It was no. But I was afraid if I told him that then he'd start to think that I was becoming too dangerous to myself. He pressed me for an answer and I resentfully said yes.

I guess what it boils down to is that this mix that I'm in is getting worse every day. The self-destructive feelings I've been having aren't going away, they're getting stronger. I dream about the things I want to do, which only serves to reinforce and strengthen the desire to act on them.

The other night I dreamed I had dozens of cuts on my lower leg (which is weird, considering the only place I usually cut is my left forearm). Anyway, there was blood everywhere and it wouldn't stop. I was blissfully happy in the dream about it and when I woke up I still felt that afterglow. I really REALLY wanted to make that dream a reality.

If these feelings don't subside, it's not a question of whether I'll act or not. It's only a question of when. And of what form it will take.

Morphed into the child again

I get so angry at myself when I morph into the needy, over-emotional, suicidal child. Yet I don't know how to stop it.

If I'm suicidal, it's almost always between 1-5 am. I can only think of a few times that I was seriously suicidal during the day. Those were when I wasn't sleeping at all and saw too many sunrises. All of my suicide attempts have happened in the middle of the night, when I'm most impulsive and have the least control.

I know this is a dangerous time for me. The obvious answer would be to not be awake during the middle of the night. The only problem is that I'm a major night owl.

Pretty messed up, isn't it?

I had a bad few hours tonight, but I'm coming out of it, thanks to two wonderfully supportive people who helped me through the worst of it. I'm going to bed before it hits again.

I lose myself each night

I wonder why it is that I can be rational, logical, and clear-headed in my thinking during the day, but at night I lose all reason and rationality.

The daytime whispers of the past telling me I'm no good and that nobody cares become loud and oppressive in my mind while the rest of the world sleeps. And my resistance to them becomes non-existant.

It's like I'm 2 different people. During the day I'm (for the most part) strong and smart and can think my way out of things. In the middle of the night I become some needy, whimpering child huddled in the corner begging for help, yet knowing I deserve none.

I pride myself on my ability to think and to reason. But when I become that child, all thought goes out the window and only emotion remains. Raw pain, desperation, and hopelessness. I forget everything I've learned over the years on how to cope with the pain. I feel weak and powerless in those hours. The next day I hate who I became the previous night. It's embarrassing and many times, after reading what I've said the night before, I'm ashamed.

This duality is driving me crazy and I don't know what to do about it or how to fix it. I feel like I lose who I am every night.

Does anyone else feel this way?

Living in hell

I'm so tired of this shit! This has been the worst month of my life and it's probably going to get much worse before it's over.

My step-son is being an asshole. He's acting like he's the only one who's having a bad month. His problems? He dumped his girlfriend and his truck is running badly. BIG FUCKING DEAL!!! My mom DIED, the IRS took ALL of our money and will continue to do so, and one of my cats is so sick we're probably going to have to put him to sleep. How does that even BEGIN to compare???

Tonight he was in a rage because he couldn't get a seat cover on the seat in his truck. WTF??? He threw something when my back was turned. It made a huge crash and scared the crap out of me. I lost it and told him if he was going to do shit like that, go to his room. Don't do it around me. He got even more pissed off and left the house. He's been gone for over 7 hours now and he's so FUCKING inconsiderate that he doesn't even CARE that we're worried about him. I bet he doesn't come home at all tonight. He's probably out getting high and drunk.

I've had it with him!!! He makes me so miserable I can't stand it! He's 18 now. He's an adult. If he wants to keep doing this shit, he can fucking go do it somewhere else!

It's hard enough trying to control my emotions without his melodramatic bullshit and rage of a temper day in and day out. My emotions flare up to match his ALL the time and it's EXHAUSTING. I'm so pissed off right now!

My control over my feelings and impulses is hanging on by a thread. All I can think about is wanting to just take one risperdal m-tab after another. Let them dissolve in my mouth and then I'll just slip away. I don't want to wake up in this hell anymore.

I don't want it to be christmas

It's 3am and I don't want to go to bed, even though I'm very tired. I don't want to wake up and it be christmas and not have my mom. I miss her so much.

I finally found a home for her cat yesterday and when I handed him to his new family I was hit with such overwhelming pain, sadness, and guilt. I went inside and laid on my bed and cried so hard I was actually screaming. He was the last living reminder of her and it was like when I had to give him away it was finally real. She's gone and she's not coming back. As long as I was taking care of him I guess some part of my mind wouldn't accept that she's really gone.

I'm so sad right now. I wish I had someone to hold me right now. Hubby's asleep and I won't wake him up. Not just because I need to be held. He wouldn't understand anyway. He tries really hard to be supportive, but sometimes he just can't understand how I'm feeling.

I would really love to take a handful of some of my meds for sleep, but I would ruin christmas for everyone else if I did that. I already feel bad enough. I don't want to add to it. Maybe I'll knock myself out tomorrow night. At least that gives me something to look forward to.

Motivations for feeling self-destructive

Sorry it's been so long since I've posted here. This month has been very difficult. Not only did I lose my mom, but the IRS levied our bank accounts and one of my cats is so sick we may have to put him to sleep. I've been spending a lot of time on a site called Suicide Forum. It's been helping me a lot, since I've been so suicidal and self-destructive lately. I'm also meeting other bipolars and finding out that I'm not as alone as I thought I was in this.

Like I said, I've been feeling very self-destructive as of late. I did a lot of thinking about it the other day and this is what I've come up with as to the what's and why's of it. I'd love some feedback on it, see what you guys think:

I'm feeling a very strong desire to be self-destructive. I'm wanting to knock myself out with pills. I want to drive very fast without a seat belt. I want to take a whole bunch of pills and drink a lot of alcohol. I can't explain why, but I want something to happen to me. I want to feel in physical danger. Why?? What the hell is wrong with me that I'm wanting to go out and look for danger? I'm feeling very impulsive. I'm wanting to put myself in dangerous situations. And I know I should care about the consequences, but I don't, even though that's selfish.

I know this is dangerous thinking for me. And there is a small part inside that's a little concerned that I'm feeling this way again. Once when I was feeling this way I acted on it in a drastic way. I ended up being sexually assaulted. During the assault I didn't care what was happening to me, but for a long time later I did. Not only did I have to deal with the emotional aftermath of the assault itself, but I was horrified at what I'd done. I'd gone looking for trouble and it found me. Once again I'm walking that line of not caring what happens to me, of actually wanting to ask for trouble.

These are feelings that are very difficult for me to put into words. Even when I'm thinking these thoughts, they're really more like what it's like to remember an emotion you'd felt. I mean, yeah, I think about what action I want to take, but everything else is all thought out in emotion. That makes it hard to pin down the why's and motivations for me.

This is what I've been able to come up with:

Sometimes the consequences are a punishment. At those times I do believe that I deserve it. But not always. Really, it depends on my mood. For example, if I'm depressed then it tends to lean toward punishment. But if I'm manic it's the adrenaline and risk-taking that's forefront in my mind.

Which part of the day it is, is also a factor. During the day I lean more toward the risk-taking aspect; in the middle of the night, however, it's a different story. That's more likely the time when I feel I deserve to be punished. During the day my danger seeking behaviors are usually focused on things like driving fast without a seatbelt, seeking out people and situations that are dangerous, etc. During the night the behaviors shift more toward taking too many pills, or mixing them with alcohol, cutting, etc. But it's not cutting because I feel overwhelmed. When I cut for that reason, it's usually only a couple of cuts. If I'm wanting danger through cutting, it's more like 20 or 30 cuts.

It's kind of like day = outward and fun, night = inward and punishment. Usually, at least.

During the day if on the slim chance something bad were to happen, that would be ok. I don't really care, probably because I don't really believe anything bad will happen to me. During the night is more when I actually want something bad to happen. That's when I get disappointed and angry when it doesn't. And when nothing happens, it reinforces the belief that nothing bad can or will happen to me.

The disappointment part is really hard for me to define, even to myself. It's multi-layered. Maybe if nothing happens, then the risk wasn't big enough. There's also the belief and desire that I be punished, and when it doesn't happen, I get disappointed and sometimes very angry. Part of it is coming from that old desire to die, but not be responsible. But that's not the whole thing... I keep trying to prove myself wrong about the belief that nothing bad can happen to me. For some reason, that's a very distressing belief for me. I don't always feel all of those reasons for disappointment. It varies.

As far as it being pleasurable to have something bad happen to me, that's part of it too. I think that comes from the same part of me that enjoys cutting.

Actually, the whole thing is comparable to having a mixed episode. You never know what you're going to get.

My mom died

My mom died on Saturday. It was such a shock. Every doctor and nurse said her vitals were great - that she was in no danger physically. So what the hell happened??!

I'm freaking out. I bounce back and forth between numb, depressed, angry, and manic.

I don't know what I'm going to do without her. And I feel very guilty. I was out of town "taking a break from her" when she died. I abandoned her. I wanted her to move to my brother's house so I wouldn't have to be responsible because it was so hard on me. Now she's gone. How could I have done that to her? This is my punishment.

I found out tonight that she hadn't been taking her meds for at least a month or two. If I'd paid closer attention, she wouldn't have gotten sick and died. It's all my fault.

I want to cut. I want to take handfuls of pills. But I can't right now because there are too many people here. But I'm scared of what I may do next week once they're all gone.

And I can't FUCKING sleep!!! I'm losing it.

I don't want to feel this pain anymore.

The universe is out to get me

I know, except for the jingle it's been ages since I've posted. Sorry bout that.

Where to start...

The last 2 weeks have been a kind of hell on earth. My mom got very sick and has been in the hospital for 2 weeks now. And when she gets out, she'll have to either move in with my brother or go to a nursing home, since she'll need 24/7 care for the rest of her life. My therapists and doctor have all made it perfectly clear that I can't be her caretaker. It would put her in jeopardy because I wouldn't be able to handle it. I'd be suicidal within a week or two. Hell, I already am. I feel like I've let her down in the worst way possible.

During all this, one of my cats almost died and continues to be very sick. My step-son continues his usual crap. Hubby is getting tired of eating take-out and wanting me to resume my normal work around the house. It's too much all at once!

My CBT scores for the past 2 weeks have been through the roof:
anxiety 99
depression 100
emotional dysfunction 100

My stress level is excruciatingly high and for the foreseeable future, it's not likely to go down. I don't know how much longer I can keep going. My meds aren't controlling my moods at all. I'm starting to have psychotic symptoms (I swear I saw a pecan pie breathing) and I'm scared to tell anyone for fear they'll up my anti-psychotic. I wouldn't be able to function at all if they did that. I have to be able to be there for my mom. And if the hospital needs consent, she can't give it. It has to be me. If I'm doped up on risperdal to where I can't stay conscious, how am I supposed to be able to give consent?

And as if the crushing suicidal depression wasn't enough, now I'm shifting into a mixed state. I'm having a lot of manic symptoms, yet I'm so depressed all I can think about is stopping the pain. I even started cutting again. Oh how I missed that blessed relief.

I know I should try to sleep. I have an appointment with my therapist at 9am. I really need to see her since I haven't seen her in 3 weeks due to various crap getting in the way. But unfortunately, a freakish winter storm started that's likely to shut down everything. I bet I won't be able to see her tomorrow.

I swear the universe is out to get me.

The Jingle

You know, it just isn't the holiday season here in Oklahoma until you start hearing the B. C. Clark Christmas Jingle

We Oklahomans definitely love this jingle. Megan Mulally even sang it on Jay Leno's show once. :-)

Hesitant and anxious

I'm going to go to a bipolar support group. It's tomorrow at 1:30. From what I understand, it's a small group, but very tight knit. They've all known each other for quite a while.

I'm a little anxious about it. I'm afraid I'm not going to fit in or belong. I would like to get to know other people who have bipolar. Maybe then I wouldn't feel so alone. But honestly, I don't know if I have the energy needed to commit to that type of group. And I'm afraid.

I've been in a group like that before. I was in it for 5 years. I was in the same situation then: joining a tightly knit group of people and feeling like an outsider who didn't belong. I did open up and get close to them, but it took a long time. And then, when the group had to end, none of them kept in contact with me. I tried to keep in touch with them, but they didn't respond.

I felt abandoned. I felt like they didn't associate with me anymore because they didn't have to. What I was most afraid of was that they never really liked or accepted me, that they only acted like it to be nice to me since they had to see me every Monday.

I'm afraid of that happening again.

Ugh, I should just get some sleep and forget about this for a few hours.

Triggered

I watched a show on tv last week where a guy took a whole bottle of sleeping pills at once. Oh man, did that trigger me. I got an almost overpowering urge to take pills. That's been one of my coping skills in the past. When things got too bad, I'd take a handful or more of prescription medication.

I want to take pills so bad. I want to cut. I even want to do something I did once before - make a kind of tea from the Oleander plant. It's a very poisonous plant. Honestly, I don't know how I survived that.

I don't know why I want to do these things. I just know that I think about it a lot; I find my thoughts coming back to it several times a day.

With all these thoughts and urges, I don't need to lose my hope. Even if it is false hope, it's better than none at all. None at all means I give up - Game Over.

Bipolar math

Let's look at it this way: For about 4 months I was suffering constantly. Then I had about a month of freedom. If you look at that for a year's time, then 10 out of 12 months I'm in anguish. I get 2 months off a year. Looking back, that sounds about right. Is 2 months out of a whole year worth it? What's really scary is if you multiply that times 50 years. I don't even want to do the math on that one. I shouldn't do the math. That would just make it worse.

Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get an extra month of respite every few years. And let's not forget that bipolar if not treated (or in my case, unsuccessfully treated) only gets worse as time goes on. So I'm looking at a massive chunk of my life spent in unending pain from this. Almost my entire life left, actually.

How do I face that?

Being kicked when I'm already down

a - 58
d - 85
e - 83

I've spent the last 2 sessions with my therapist in tears the entire time.

I told her how I'm being told that I'll be struggling with bipolar for the rest of my life, that this is probably what it will be like for the rest of my life. And medicine doesn't seem to work well for me. She understood how I see things: why should I have hope? I'm being told not to have any and that nothing will be able to help me. That I'll just have to learn to live with it and make whatever kind of life I can with what I've got to work with.

How can one keep their faith in the face of this?

She understands that I'm in danger of losing mine. I was already crying when I told her all of this, but when she convinced me she understood, I cried even harder. I'm so miserable. I feel like if only I tried harder, I wouldn't feel so bad. But I just don't have the energy to always fight these thoughts and feelings.

I'm finding it impossible for me to accept that this is all I have to look forward to. If this is all there is, what kind of life could I possibly have? A miserable one, that's what.

I think one has to hold onto their hope and faith that things will get better. If not, one might just give up altogether and would rather not live than continue this way for another 50 years or more.

I get suicidal when I'm depressed. I'm depressed right now. And now I'm being told to give up my so-called "false hope" that things will get better. Funny, but it doesn't seem to me to be the right thing to say to someone who's hanging on by their fingertips at times. Even if it weren't going to kill my hope, at the very least it's SO not comforting. It's the same as telling a child who's feeling bad that they'll never feel any better.

Probably the worst part of this illness is that it gives you glimpses of what your life would be like if you didn't have it. I had one such glimpse a couple of months ago. All that does is make this harder. Knowing that it could be better, but it will never stay that way. That the pain will always come back, no matter what you do. That's just torturing someone who's already suffering greatly. Kicking them when they're down.

Edgy frustration

I want to write, but I'm not sure what to write about. I'm not doing too bad right now. I'm a bit on the manic flip side, but not too much. Mostly I'm starting a lot of different projects right now, along with planning several others to begin soon.

I don't want to sleep. I'm not really very hungry most of the time. I feel something, but I'll be damned if I can put my finger on it. I can't quite grasp it. All I keep thinking is something is not right. I don't feel stable.

I don't like this feeling. It's like waiting for something to happen that never quite does. I'm just so uncomfortable. This is unknown territory for me. I've always been able to describe how I feel, usually with an exhaustively long list of emotions. But nothing fits this time. I've never liked the unknown. It makes me edgy and anxious.

When I try to look back at my emotions for the last week, my memory isn't so good. I can't really remember specific feelings, just a general edginess.

I've never been a patient person and this mood is driving me crazy. I just wish something would happen already!

I want to be taken care of

I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep. I've come down from the high and I feel terrible. It hit yesterday afternoon and I slept for 3 or 4 hours and the energy hasn't been back since. I can't deal with this. It's too much.

I've been thinking about something for about a day now. I can't get it out of my mind - I'm craving attention. I crave it badly. I want someone to give me their undivided attention and not only be concerned for me, but to show it. That's so selfish, I know. And I'm positive that if it were to actually occur, I'd be so self-conscious that I'd practically shut down.

I hate myself right now. I'm so sick of me. I'm a pathetic worthless self-centered lazy miserable excuse for a human being. I don't want to be me any more.

I'm so tired. I don't want to do this anymore.

Why do I want attention so badly? I fantasize about it. I can't get it out of my head. Why?

I know this is a sign of depression for me. Whenever I'm depressed I get this way. I don't know, maybe it's because I need someone to show that they see I'm in pain and that they care. I want to be taken care of. No one takes care of me - I take care of everyone else. I take care of them the way I want to be taken care of. But no one does me the same courtesy. They just expect me to carry on. I'm still supposed to keep the house clean, cook all the meals, keep the finances straight, pay the bills on time, and run all the errands. No one helps me unless I ask several times. No one just offers. No one wants to help me and no one wants to listen.

No one notices how hard life is for me. And if I talk about how I feel, everyone acts like 'Here we go again - Arianna's depressed. Can't she just get over it already? We're tired of hearing her whine and complain. So she's got problems - big deal. Everybody has problems, but you don't hear them whining about them all the time.'

I'm just a burden to everyone and they're tired of hearing about my problems. They're tired of me getting depressed. They think I should be able to keep up with everything no matter how I feel. They don't think my feelings are important because I swing so wildly and chaotically. And so often. It's just another mood swing to them. It's commonplace.

They have no idea what it's like for me. What I go through on a daily basis. They have no idea how much energy it takes just to keep going. How easy it would be for me to just give up. And honestly, I think if I weren't so worried about what people would think and how it would hurt them, I would give up. I really don't know why I keep going day after day. Maybe I shouldn't figure out why. It keeps me going. I don't think I should mess with it.

A golden opportunity

a - 14
d - 17
e - 48

We're buying a house! We came across it today and it's wonderful. It's got so much potential. It's not even on the market yet. I'm going to see about a mortgage tomorrow.

It's got 3 bedrooms, 1 1/2 baths, a 2 car garage, nice sized front and back yards, big front and back porches, 2 sheds in back, and landscaping including a gorgeous huge tree. It's small, probably 1200 sq. ft. or so, but that's ok. Hopefully soon it will be just Hubby and me. We don't need that much space. And really anything is better than the 900 sq. ft. crappy mobile home we live in now.

It's in a nice quiet neighborhood filled with people who have lived there at least a decade and all the houses appear well cared for.

They're asking around $85,000 for it. That means our mortgage payment would only be around $550.00 or so. Definitely doable.

This is just a golden opportunity that fell right into our laps. If we don't reach out and grab it, we'll regret it. And later on when we move up to a bigger house, it'll make a great rent house for us.

The woman selling it said if someone were to tell her they wanted to buy it, she wouldn't even put it on the market. I told her we were very interested in buying it when she's ready to sell it.

I want this house! And I want it now!

I'm so revved up right now. I have been all day, really. I've been talking a mile a minute all day to anyone who'll listen to me. And I could talk all night, I just don't have anyone to talk to.

My CBT class was cancelled for today, but I did my scores anyway. Not too bad, I guess. The anxiety and depression scores both dropped by about half, and the emotional score went down quite a bit as well.

I guess it's because I've been in such a good mood these past several days. And full of ideas. I'm not manic, but I'd say I'm probably hypomanic. That's not a bad way to be. I know that I wrote before when I first started cycling about how even though I could feel the changes, I dreaded them because I could remember what the calm and balance felt like. I wanted to hold onto those. And I was pissed off because I couldn't. I didn't want the chaos.

Well, I can't remember what they felt like now. That's ok, though. I know from my writing that I didn't want to be manic. What was I, an idiot? This is the best feeling in the world. I'm hyper-creative, hyper-effecient, everything has fallen into place. Everything is enhanced and it's glorious! Why on earth would I have not wanted this?? Momentary lapse into stupidity, I guess.

I was irritated that my class was cancelled, but in hindsight it was the best thing that could have happened. After all, if I'd been at my class, I wouldn't have seen this house and grabbed the opportunity. And this hypomania is giving me the courage and optimism to go for this house.

But I'll admit, I missed being in class today. It keeps me grounded a bit. Gives me a barometer for my behavior and moods, because honestly - sometimes it's hard for me to judge it myself. That's ok, though. I'm sure they would have thought I was in a great mood and very fun to be around. I'm a wonderful person to be around when I'm feeling like this. Everyone loves me.

It's great to be me. :-)

My biggest critic

I'm still kicking around the idea of writing a book. I hunted around the web tonight for writing tips and found some pretty good ones. Maybe I'll take a creative writing class. I also dug around in my bedroom today and found all my old stories. I'm thinking I'll put them all in a binder so I can keep them together.

I think the only reason I haven't started writing it yet is I'm lacking in confidence. Funny, considering that I'm hypomanic, isn't it? Right now you'd think I'd be bursting with confidence, not afraid of much of anything. But I am. I'm afraid I'll fail, plain and simple. But really, who am I afraid of? It's not like I'm an author with a deadline that I'll lose my publisher if I don't produce results.

I guess I'm afraid of me. I've always been my biggest critic, not to mention the meanest. I'm so critical of myself that I avoid taking chances because of fear. Sounds ridiculous, now that I put it down in words. I need to take a chance. How will I ever know if I can succeed if I never try? Yes, I won't fail, but I won't succeed either.

Don't mind me. I'm rambling and feeling introspective tonight. Sometimes it helps to write it out. Then I can see errors in logic and common sense that seem otherwise perfectly normal in my head.

Energized and full of plans

Well, I'm back on meds. But luckily I was able to convince my doctor to not start me back on lithium. He put me on lamictal instead. And since I was off my meds for so long, he's got me on lower doses to start out with. That means fewer pills. Yea!

Before, I was taking 1500 mg of lithium, 2000 mg of depakote, 4 mg of risperdal, 80 mg of inderal, 15 mg of remeron, and 100 mcg of synthroid. That was 7 pills in the morning and 8 at night. If you ask me, that was a massive cocktail of meds.

Now I'm on 25 mg lamictal, 1000 mg of depakote, 2 mg of risperdal, and 100 mcg of synthroid. No remeron because I'm not depressed. I'm either manic or mixed. No inderal because I was only taking it for tremors caused by the lithium. I'm still on the synthroid only until they're sure my thyroid has stabilized. That's only 5 pills total. 2 in the morning and 3 at night. Much better.

And whereas the lithium was handfuls of huge capsules twice a day, I'm only on one itty bitty little pill now thanks to the lamictal. Yeah, the depakote is still huge, but only half of the previous amount. I guess I can deal with that for now. I'd love to go off the depakote and just be on the lamictal. But I don't know if I could be that lucky.

The risperdal is no big deal. It's the m-tab, which melts in your mouth and doesn't even taste bad. The only thing is it makes me sleepy. Maybe I can get them to lower it to 1 mg. But I think I can only pull that off if I stop seeing things. I'm pretty sure the only reason he resumed the risperdal is when he asked if I was seeing or hearing anything, I told him about the other night when I saw mist rising from the blanket I was wrapped in. I know it wasn't there, but I saw it anyway. It was eerie. So I guess for now, I need it. I don't like it, though. Although, I do have to say I wish all my meds were as easy to take. Just melt in my mouth with a minty taste. Nice, huh? :-)

I'm still feeling a bit on the up side, but I feel a bit calmer now. I'm not sure if it's the meds or just me. I would have thought it a bit early for the meds to be working. I've only been on them again for 2 days. Well, time will tell whether it's me or the meds.

I went to the store and bought the dvd's of the original theatrical releases of Star Wars IV, V, and VI. That was $60.00 right there. But Hubby said I could get them, so I'm not worried that I spent that kind of money. Even though our budget is so tight right now that $60 could make a big difference.

I've also been busy making a Dead Like Me theme for my computer. Background, sound events, icons, the whole nine yards. It's been fun. I would like to make a new mouse pointer... maybe a scythe or something. That would be cool.

I'm just about caught up on the laundry. It seems that our whole wardrobe was dirty. I'm planning on doing the dishes and cleaning up the living room and office tomorrow. I'm also going to finish cleaning our bedroom. I started that today.

I've been having the urge to paint. I'm thinking about painting a copy of my favorite painting Girl with a Pearl Earring by Johannes Vermeer. I think that would look good in the living room.

I've also been kicking around the idea of writing a novel. I just need a starting point. Maybe I should write about a woman with bipolar. Don't they say write what you know? Well, I definitely have a lot of experience with that. Maybe I could add these posts in there. Have her be writing in a journal. I could also include previous journals I've kept since I was 18. That would be cool.

Well, I'm off to take a shower. Maybe I'll start a load of dishes tonight before I go to bed. Till next time...

I don't know who I am anymore

In class today my shrink actually had to tell me to stop because I was being very angry and saying mean things. That's not me. I don't know who that was. I'm not the kind of person who rages like that. It scares me that I can be like that. I'm normally a very nice person, but today I was just a major bitch.

I don't know what to do anymore.

I'm not so angry now, just ashamed and feeling very guilty about my behavior. I'm thinking very irrationally right now about most things.

I have to get up at 8am. That's in less than 5 hours. I'm not even sleepy and I know what will happen. I'll finally fall asleep around 4:30 or 5:00 and be dead tired when my alarm clock goes off. I hope I don't sleep through it. I've done that a couple of times when I was like this.

I can't afford to miss a session with my therapist. I see her at 9am tomorrow. I didn't have a session last week because she wasn't in that day and I don't want to go another week without that support. I really need it right now. I need to hear her reassure me that I'm not going insane and that I'll get through this.

So I think I'm going to go to bed and try to get a few hours of sleep.

100 Things about myself

I've seen this on blogs before and thought it was a neat idea. The trick is to try to keep it positive. I think I did a good job of that, but it took me 3 days to do it. It's very challenging. Can you do it? :-)

1. I've swam and played with dolphins.
2. I worked as a bartender.
3. I’m Wiccan.
4. I’m married to a wonderful, loving, hard-working man.
5. I love nature.
6. I’m very tender-hearted when it comes to animals.
7. I’m a perfectionist.
8. I’m a frustrated neat freak because of the times I’m too lazy to clean up after everyone else in the house.
9. I love Mountain Dew.
10. I love to be complimented on my cooking, but don’t like the actual work cooking involves.
11. I’m an avid reader.
12. I’m completely and hopelessly addicted to TV and movies.
13. I’m a very good speller.
14. I love to write (obviously), and I think I’m pretty good at it. :-)
15. I’ve been to another country.
16. I’m very knowledgeable about psychology.
17. I’ve swam in the Gulf of Mexico.
18. I’m pretty handy with computers. I’m the one everyone calls when their computer messes up.
19. I love to bake. Baking is different from cooking, so I don’t mind the work it involves. :-)
20. I like almost every kind of music there is.
21. I love musicals.
22. I’m a huge Donny Osmond fan.
23. I live with 2 cats inside and 2 outside. Spot is my kitty, Buddy is Hubby’s kitty, and the 2 girls Boo and Squirrel live outside. Pretty soon we’ll be cat ranchers, lol.
24. My favorite drink is an Amaretto Sour. Oh yum!
25. Strawberry Margaritas are pretty darn good too. ;-)
26. I pretty much only like chocolate that is at least 60% cacao. I think milk chocolate is too sweet.
27. I adore the TV show Charmed.
28. I’m a trekker.
29. I’m fascinated by the medical and mental health professions.
30. I love to learn.
31. I watch more documentary type shows than dramas or comedies.
32. My favorite subjects are science and ancient history (Egyptian, Greek, Roman).
33. I love rainstorms and have even been known to play in them or sit peacefully, all the while getting soaked. :-)
34. I love all types of puzzles: jigsaw, word find, etc…
35. I only cheat when I think I can get away with it. ;-)
36. I’m a smoker.
37. I go to sleep every night listening to the movie Clue.
38. I love spending money.
39. I can sit at the lake for hours and not want to leave.
40. I once got drunk in a hotel room on fuzzy navels.
41. I make friends for life.
42. My nickname in high school was Mr. Schneider (from the old TV show “The Monkees”). Long story, don’t ask…
43. I’ve been in over 40 plays.
44. I was on the President’s List every semester in Junior College.
45. I used to hate cheese, now I can’t get enough of it – especially melted on stuff. Mmmm…..
46. I’m a reformed nail biter.
47. I can be particularly clever and witty.
48. I dream of owning a genuine Faberge Egg some day.
49. I once screamed out loud while reading a Stephen King novel.
50. I once painted my kitchen cabinets royal purple with grey-blue doors…. Love that manic judgment.
51. I repainted those same cabinets a cream color once the mania wore off. :-)
52. I positively hate shaving my legs… I’ve lost quarts of blood over the years doing that activity.
53. I love to talk.
54. I have an addictive personality.
55. When I was 17 I went on a road trip to New Braunfels, TX with one of my best friends. No adults, just us.
56. I floated down the Guadalupe River in an inner tube during that trip and ended up looking like a freshly steamed lobster.
57. I had a bad habit of sneaking out of windows at night when I was a teenager.
58. I once got caught with a guy in my room in the middle of the night. (We weren’t doing anything, honest!) My brother was the one who snitched on me.
59. My hair has been champagne blond, auburn, brunette, purple, and black.
60. I cried like a baby when I read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.
61. I’m a major procrastinator.
62. I like to dance around singing along to music when I clean.
63. I got sent home from work (Looney Land in Six Flags Over Texas) because of the aforementioned purple hair.
64. I got married when I was 20.
65. I love being very intelligent.
66. I can sing “Jingle Bells” in French.
67. I love to drive with the windows down and the heater on in the winter.
68. I have 2 tattoos, a flower wreath on each ankle.
69. I got the second tattoo when I was manic and acting childish and rebellious.
70. I can make a killer Margarita.
71. I’ve written several short stories.
72. I’ve never been stung by a bee or wasp.
73. A cat I once owned broke my hand.
74. I’ve since broken that same hand in that same spot 2 more times.
75. I’m a night owl.
76. I’ve been hospitalized for bipolar symptoms 5 times since 1995.
77. I once had a therapist who talked incessantly about his own “family recipe salsa”.
78. I met my husband on a blind date through a dating service.
79. I’m a Monty Python fan.
80. I met Donny Osmond once.
81. I dream of owning real estate and making money off of it, becoming wealthy.
82. I own a neurotic cat who chews her hair off by her tail (that would be Spot).
83. I’ve read the entire Incarnations of Immortality series by Piers Anthony at least 20 times.
84. My favorite floral scents are rose and honeysuckle.
85. I prefer staying home to going out.
86. My favorite painting is Girl with a Pearl Earring by Dutch artist Johannes Vermeer.
87. I love to sit outside in the middle of the night wrapped in a blanket listening to my water fountain.
88. I love animated Disney movies.
89. I’ve been to the summit of Pike’s Peak in Colorado.
90. I’ve never been arrested.
91. I have, however, been in the back of a police car once.
92. I’d love to be a published author.
93. I’ve done the whole tourist thing with one foot in the U.S. and the other in Mexico.
94. I have a lot of trouble swallowing pills. They get stuck in my throat.
95. I’ve won competitions with my strawberry cake.
96. I consistently made first chair in orchestra while in school.
97. I used to play the viola.
98. My favorite classical piece is Beethoven’s Fur Elise.
99. I taught myself how to play Fur Elise on the piano.
100. I can make a necklace out of beads made from rose petals.

Terrifying rage and fury

a - 36
d - 36
e - 65

I feel positively murderous! I swear, it wouldn't take hardly anything to make me lose it right now. It's all I can do to keep myself from screaming and breaking things. I'm actually imagining myself throwing things at people and punching them!

This rage terrifies me. It comes from nowhere, but everything fuels it. I'm not a violent person. I'm actually just about a pacifist. I hate to hurt people. When I hurt someone, it bounces back on me and I feel so much guilt and pain for doing it.

But I want to hurt people. The way I'm being hurt. I want to say the most hurtful things I can come up with. I want to speak the brutal truth and it's tearing me apart trying to keep that fury inside. I don't care that what I want to say will stay with them forever. That it will seriously affect their self-esteem. I DON'T FUCKING CARE!!! I want to hurt them bad.

I even want to start screaming at total strangers who happen to get in my way or inconvenience me or make mistakes. I have no tolerance. They can all die for all I care. The world would be better off without such idiots anyway. Those people shouldn't be allowed to reproduce. Ever.

I've heard of manic rages, but I've never experienced one before. It's scaring the crap out of me. It's so intense and prolonged. And it's completely against my nature. I'm not really much of an angry person. I tend to get depressed or manic. Not raging. This isn't me! I don't know who this is.

I'm so scared I'm going to say something to Hubby that I can't take back. Something that would do serious and irreparable damage to our relationship. I'm afraid I'm going to lose all control. I'm afraid I might really hurt someone. Physically or emotionally or both.

My shrink once said if I was going manic, the first score to go up would be the over emotional one. Well, it's definitely up. He said my scores are like taking my emotional temperature.

I'd say I'm running a fever.

A rage of mushroom cloud proportions

I've been so angry today. I've lost all tolerance and patience for almost everyone around me.

I just want to start screaming and smashing things and throwing everything I can get my hands on. My rage is threatening to explode in mushroom cloud proportions.

I hate my life. The only part I don't hate is Hubby. I love him, even when he pisses me off.

My house is a wreck again. We have no money. I have to live with a drug addict for a step-son whose only ambition in life is to have us financially support him forever so he can get high whenever he wants. His girlfriend lives with us and they fight ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Sometimes they get violent - shoving, hitting, biting each other. I can hear them arguing right now, and they're on the other end of the house with their door shut.

Hubby is turning a blind eye to his lazy ass loser drug addict son, blindly hoping that things will magically change. He doesn't have a job (isn't even looking for one), has no plans to get one although he talks a good game. But Hubby always gives him money for gas and cigarettes. Then after that's spent and we ask why he hasn't applied for any jobs, he complains that he can't find a job because he has no gas and can't pass a drug test!!! Let's face it - he won't change. We supply him with money and pay his car insurance. He has it fucking made! Why on earth would he give that up?!

I HATE financially supporting the little jerk! But Hubby overrides me every time I say no.

I don't know how much longer I can go on in this environment. I love Hubby with all my heart, and I don't want to ever lose him, but I can't go on like this forever. This chaotic and violent environment is greatly aggravating my bipolar. Yes, I know I'm cycling right now. But all this shit just adds to it! It's so fucking hard to attempt to stay calm when there's all this crap going on right in front of me.

I don't think I'd swing near as high if the tension wasn't so high in my house 24/7. I really don't. But there's nothing I can do about it, unless I'm willing to leave, which means lose Hubby. I don't know if I could bear that right now. So I'm stuck. Helplessly and hopelessly mired in the misery that is my life.

He remembers me

I got a reply from the teacher. He remembers me and our talks. He was happy to get my email and said he was glad he could help me.

He even mentioned that he remembered I was big into Drama. Wow. That means he really does remember me! I'm glad I emailed him.

Emailing my high school hero

Well, I pulled up my high school website, found a faculty list, and lo and behold - that teacher is still working there. And it had an email address for him. So I emailed him.

I briefly explained who I was and what he did for me and thanked him for changing my life. I wonder if he'll respond? It doesn't really matter, though. It was enough for me to just let him know that he made a huge difference in my life.

I told him I'm now happily married, but I did tell him one thing, however, that wasn't true. I said I'm doing wonderful. I know, I know. That's so far from the truth it's ridiculous. But I didn't want to tell him that I've had a very hard life and am unstable most of the time. I didn't want to tell him I have bipolar. I believe he's already more than met his lifetime quota of listening to my problems.

All I wanted him to know is that he changed my life when he saved it.

How cool would it be if you got an email from someone you knew almost 20 years ago and they told you how pivotal you were in their life? That you really made a difference. I bet that teachers love to hear things like that.

I hope it makes him feel very good. He deserves to feel wonderful for what he did for me.

Reflections of high school

For some strange reason I pulled out my senior yearbook tonight and started reminiscing, telling Hubby all about my high school experience. At first, I talked with pride and happiness, but then it hit me: what was I happy about? Those years were miserable for me. As I thought more about it, I kept getting sadder and sadder. I started feeling just the way I did when people back then called me horrible names and laughed at me.

And the few things that I always thought of fondly, I now realize were orchestrated to also make fun of me. I just didn't realize it at the time because I was so desperate for anyone to be my friend.

I realized something else tonight. Last year my 15 year reunion took place and it never even occurred to me that it was that year. I was denied the ability to go to my 10 year reunion by one of the girls in school that hated me the most. She withheld the reunion and ticket information, so I missed it. I was very upset about that. It still pisses me off. She had no fucking right to do that to me. I went to school with them from 3rd through 12th grade. I did have a couple of friends and would have loved to have seen them. But no - the bitch didn't want me to go. So I had been looking forward to the 15 year reunion.

But my own life got in the way this time. Not only was I struggling with my bipolar, but last summer my dad became very ill and passed away. It's not surprising at all that the reunion didn't even register as a blip. But now, as I think of it, I feel once again as if I missed out.

I don't even know why I wanted to go to the stupid things. Everyone there would still be harboring animosity toward me. Out of my graduating class of about 650 people, there were about 5 that were nice to me, and only 2 that were ever friends. I guess the reason I was, and still am, pissed off is that it should have been MY choice on whether I attended or not. They had no right to make that choice for me.

I told my therapist about the 10 year reunion crap one time. She said that was one of the saddest things she'd ever heard. That people would be so cruel so many years later. I appreciated the sympathy.

And why, 16 years later, does this high school experience still color my world so much? One thing it taught me was to always be on the lookout for someone to hurt you. I think maybe that experience is one reason why I hate attention and would prefer to be invisible. If no one sees you, then they won't attack.

The only good things to come from those years are my 2 lifelong friends that I'm still in contact with today. They're like sisters to me. The other was one teacher who listened. He met with me every morning before school for a half hour for at least 3 months and just talked with me. He listened to me and helped. He was the only adult I trusted enough to tell that I was being sexually abused at home. He meant more to me than he'll ever know, and most likely I wouldn't be on this earth if it weren't for him. He saved my life. He was the only light in a world of darkness and pain where every day was filled with thoughts of suicide.

I ran into him in 1999 when I went with my best friend to her 10 year reunion (she was a year ahead of me in school). He was still teaching at the high school. We saw each other in the hall and he recognized me immediately, remembered my name and those 3 months. He asked how I was doing, how my life was. I hugged him and thanked him for helping me through one of the toughest times of my life. But I didn't tell him how much he really meant to me. I wish I had. Maybe I'll send him a letter at the school. If he's not working there anymore, maybe they'll have a forwarding address and send it to him. I'd like him to know how much he changed my life. He's a true hero.

I only know it's not right

I hate this. It's like I'm in a holding pattern, waiting. I still don't know what's wrong, only that it's not right. I can't put my finger on it; it's like I can sense something lurking under the surface but when I try to see what it is, it dives deep down and waits until I'm not looking closely before it nears the surface again. It's positively annoying.

I feel very unstable, shaky. I'm not clearly depressed, yet not clearly manic, either. Why is it taking so long to show itself? This isn't a crash and burn, more like time has slowed to a crawl during a nosedive. You see it happening all around you, know what's coming, yet it seems like it will be an eternity before you hit the ground. I really have that sense of slowing to a crawl. Not physically, but more of sensing what's happening to me.

I know the ground is hurtling toward me, I can see it coming. But I keep wondering when it will hit. It seems like this nosedive into instability is taking an awfully long time. And I keep wondering will the ground be soft? Hard? Will I bounce off it with little or no injury? Or will it smash every bone in my body? Hell, I don't even know if I'm heading for earth or water.

The anxiety is the worst. Waiting to see if this progresses and if so, how far it will go. I have this nervousness, like an itch. I'm edgy and cranky as all hell one minute, laughing and relaxed the next. I feel a restlessness that runs deep.

I'm still functioning. Better, actually, than in months. I've done more cleaning than I have for a long time. And I'm keeping the house clean - well the living room and kitchen, at least. I'm doing laundry. I'm paying bills. Still active in my daily routines. I'm even cooking regularly, a feat in and of itself.

As long as I'm active, I'm ok. It's when I'm not that the oppressive cloud starts to weigh heavily on my mind.

It's so weird. It's almost as if my instability is neutral at this point. It could go either way. Apathy threatens to immobilize me, yet there is the promise of many plans. (an image of the Tin Man swaying back and forth comes to mind, singing If I Only had a Heart - where the hell did that come from?) So apparently I'm now experiencing the Switzerland of cycles. Well why not? I've had depression, mania, and mixed. Why not one that hasn't decided which way to go, but is uncomfortable nonetheless? Just because it doesn't know what it wants to be when it grows up doesn't mean it can't be a pain in the ass and mess with me in the meantime.

I'm tempted to say it's leaning toward the manic side of the fence, simply because I have all these things I want to do all at once: I want to start writing a novel, paint, dance, play games, color in a coloring book, spend tons of money on dvd's (oh I have SO many I want to buy), radically change my hair - I want to cut about 8 inches off even though I've been trying to grow it out for over 2 years and still have 6 inches to go before I have it as long as I've wanted it, rearrange all the furniture inside and outside the house. Not to mention all the emotional things associated with mania: wanting to drive fast with no seatbelt, feeling reckless and daring, hypersexual, playful bordering on annoyance to others. I want to take risks, feel thrills and excitement. I want to take several classes at the museum related to ancient egypt. I absolutely adore ancient egypt. I want to take classes on working with clay, glass blowing, painting with all different mediums. There is an exhibit at the museum of art that I'm dying to go to. It's on ancient egypt, on tour from the British Museum (but I don't know, people annoy me lately. Not so keen on being in a crowd of them). I have so many books that I want to start reading - some new, some I've read before.

But I don't really have elevated energy or racing thoughts. Hmm, after reading that last paragraph I wrote, maybe I should add the word yet to that last sentence.

I just don't feel truly manic, nor truly depressed. I'm both, but at the same time, neither. At least not full blown. Yet. I swear, this is driving me crazy!

I keep knocking the temperature down on the thermostat. It's 70 degrees outside right now, yet I'm so hot. Suffocatingly hot. I just lowered the temp to 73 on my air conditioner. I know it will drive our electric bill sky high if I keep doing this, but I can't breathe, it's so hot. Everyone else says it's freezing in the house. But what's weird is that I'll be melting, then a few minutes after I turn down the temp, I get too cold. Not only am I not comfortable mentally, but physically as well. I can't seem to regulate my temperature at all. This is FREAKING RIDICULOUS!!! I'm constantly playing with the thermostat and I'm frustrated as all hell.

I'm wide awake and considering going to my local Wal-Mart to buy some dvd's, maybe some art supplies. Don't you just love our 24/7 society? I've been wanting Sybil and the Dead Like Me series for a long time. I know hubby would blow a gasket if I bought them, but right now part of me is saying "I don't care, I want it and I'm going to get it whether you say yes or not". I can see it now. Yeah, that'd go over well.

Right now I feel like I'm going to explode. I have a serious need to scream at the top of my lungs. Throwing and breaking things has a seductive appeal also. There's a fury and a rage that's on the verge of bubbling over and I just want to absolutely freaking LOSE IT.

Yet within all of the above, there is an undercurrent of sadness, fear, hopelessness, helplessness, loneliness - an underground river, winding and snaking its way through the countryside of my soul. Right now it's lapping gently, just enough to let me know it's there. But there is the constant threat to overflow its banks and flood me with such intensity that I fear it will consume me.

Prowling the banks of that river, though, is a tiger. Restless and hungry, it paces back and forth waiting for prey to pounce upon and devour.

So here I am, standing on the bank of that river, waiting to see if the tiger will get me or if I'll fall into the water. Or worse, the tiger attacks and we fall into the river together.

Hmm, maybe now would be a good time to start that novel. I'm feeling particularly descriptive at the moment.

Failure

a - 21
d - 20
e - 33

I've been having a harder time this past week. It's real work to keep control of my anger. It keeps threatening to morph into a blind rage - the kind where you scream, throw things, and smash everything you can get your hands on. Then, of course, there's the anxiety. And I'm so freaking needy, it's unreal.

I'm so pissed off that I'm cycling again. I mean my scores were 3! Now they're in the 20's! I keep telling myself that 20's is still a lot lower than 80's, but let's face it - I'm a perfectionist. Even this much of a change in my stability feels like a failure. And I'm afraid that in no time at all I'll be back in the 80's.

I'm smelling things that aren't there. A few hours ago I smelled brownies baking. Now I smell bacon. No one else smells them, and no one has baked or cooked anything. I know those smells aren't there, but I smell them anyways. That's not good. I have a history of psychotic symptoms. Both hallucinations and delusions. I don't want them to increase my anti-psychotic med. It makes me so tired as it is. If they increase it anymore, I'll do nothing but sleep! That'll really help my stability, won't it?

I'm so scared that I'm going to end up in the same place I was at a few months ago.

I don't want to be there again. A few months ago I was ready to lay down and die. I can feel the fear gnawing away in the pit of my stomach. The cycle has barely started and I already feel my strength weakening.

Several years ago I had the ability to shut down my emotions and not feel anything. I could just go numb. Unfortunately, I lost that ability. How I wish I still had it. I'd give anything to just not feel right now.

I don't want to do this again.

My previous scores

Here are my scores (explained in post 'Balance between episodes'), from the first to the latest. Remember it ranges from 0-100 (100 being worst).

3/22/06........a-56 ....d-86 ....e-83
3/26/06........a-62 ....d-91 ....e-85
3/28/06........a-81 ....d-80 ....e-87
4/4/06..........a-62 ....d-82 ....e-90
4/12/06........a-95 ....d-81 ....e-66
4/19/06........a-79 ....d-85 ....e-62
4/26/06........a-77 ....d-84 ....e-75
5/3/06..........a-61 ....d-92 ....e-33
5/10/06........a-81 ....d-90 ....e-35
5/17/06........a-62 ....d-89 ....e-41
5/24/06.......a-54 ....d-94 ....e-53
6/7/06..........a-65 ....d-75 ....e-40
6/14/06........a-43 ....d-82 ....e-52
6/21/06........a-57 ....d-79 ....e-61
6/28/06........a-76 ....d-90 ....e-58
7/5/06..........a-60 ....d-92 ....e-60
7/12/06........a-60 ....d-92 ....e-62
7/26/06........a-77 ....d-85 ....e-57
8/2/06..........a-15 ....d-31 ....e-27
8/9/06..........a-15 ....d-16 ....e-19
8/16/06........a-6 ......d-9 ......e-11
8/23/06........a-7 ......d-7 ......e-9
8/30/06........a-3 .....d-3 ......e-5

In the rainstorm

Today I sat outside in the rain. It rained very hard for a long time and I just sat there enjoying the feel of the water, the smell of the rain, and the sound of raindrops hitting everything around me. I got a lot of weird looks from people driving down the street, though. But I didn't care. I wanted to be in the rainstorm. I certainly feel like it's in me.

As I said in my last post, I'm not sure whether I'm getting depressed or manic. Funny, I can usually tell, even at the beginning of an episode. But I can't tell this time. I'm experiencing a lot of the signs of a beginning depression, but there's a lot of signs of a beginning mania, too:

anger, anxiety, sadness, edginess, crying, less sleep, surges of energy, no energy, crankiness, overly sensitive, loss of appetite, neediness, recklessness, more sexual, impulsive, wanting to spend money, less ability to concentrate, wanting to be violent, wanting to stop my meds.

As you can tell, there's elements of both. Part of me is very afraid that instead of being one or the other it will be another mixed episode. In my last episode the lines were blurred between mania and depression. It was so awful. I don't ever want to feel that way again, and I'm so scared that I'll have to.

Probably one of the worst parts of starting to cycle is that I can see myself changing. I can still think and realize that I'm not functioning properly. Able to see what's happening, but unable to stop it. That's how I feel right now. Helpless to stop what I know is coming and unable to escape.

Perched on the edge

You know, looking back over this blog, I see that I was great at describing the worst of what I was going through. However, I didn't show the other side of bipolar - the time in between episodes - at all. I wish I had. Maybe it would have helped me to balance myself now. That and it would let people know that it's not always that bad.

I'm starting to cycle again. I can't tell yet whether I'm headed up or down, but I know I'm headed somewhere. I'm not able to let things go as easily as I have been able to over this last month. I'm much quicker to anger and slower to calm down. I've been crying more often. Not wanting to go to sleep. I'm sad that I'm losing my balance.

I'm still having periods where I'm calm and balanced. I haven't progressed into a full blown episode yet. Thank goodness for that. But I can tell I'm not as stable as I have been. It's hard to recall those feelings of calm and balance that I've been experiencing for 5 weeks now. It's a little harder to concentrate. For example, when I'm driving and have to make a left turn to cross traffic, I hesitate longer. I'm not as sure of my reaction time.

I've had this illness for well over a decade, probably closer to 15 years. Cycling doesn't come as a surprise anymore, but I still get very angry when it happens. It catches me off guard and I don't feel like I've had enough of a break. I'm so sick and tired of the cycles.

When I get to have those wonderful periods of calm, I'm reminded of what I'd probably be like if I didn't have bipolar. It's amazing the difference in me. I'm calm, balanced, strong, confident, easy-going, and a problem solver when I'm in between episodes. I'm none of those when I'm cycling.

Right now I'm perched on the edge and can see both sides. Where I'm coming from and where I'm going to. It's frustrating to know that I'll lose all of those qualities and become swept up in the pain again. It's like finally waking from a bad dream and then being sucked back into it knowing you'll forget that you ever woke up and were free.

I really hate this.

Balance between episodes

a - 3
d - 3
e - 5

Sorry I haven't posted in quite a while. I just haven't felt a need to lately.

I'm sure you noticed something new at the top of this post (a is for anxiety, d is for depression, and e is for emotional dysregulation). The scores are a great barometer for how I'm doing week to week. In a few paragraphs I'll tell you about them in more detail. I rate myself every Wednesday and I've decided to include them in my blog. So from now on, every time I have new scores I'll include them.

I'm doing quite well. For the past month or so I've leveled out and been in this wonderful place of balance. I keep marveling at this feeling of calm. Is this what life would be like for me if I didn't have bipolar? I think probably so.

I'm sleeping well and able to cope with the things life is currently throwing at me. Things still bug me, but I don't let them get to me. I have energy and motivation, but not to the extreme.

I'm still seeing my shrink and therapist. There's a scale for them that I rate myself every week for anxiety, depression, and emotional dysregulation. It ranges from 0-100 (100 being the worst). From April to about a month ago I scored high weekly without fail. For the last month, however, I've been scoring between 3-31. The difference in me is like night and day.

I love this time between episodes. I am, however, a realist. I know that I will have another episode... probably within the next few months if things follow their normal course. So I will treasure the balance for as long as it lasts.

Nightmares

I've been having a run of nightmares. 5 or 6 nights a week I wake up from a nightmare. Some nights I've even had 2 or 3 the same night. Sometimes they're continuations, sometimes they're entirely new ones.

They all involve me either being attacked or chased, or loved ones being killed or coming to me and telling me they're dead.

They're very disturbing and terrifying and very realistic. So realistic, in fact, that I'm disoriented for several minutes after I wake up, not sure if I'm really awake or not. I've even gone so far as to call my mom to make sure she was actually ok after I dreamed she came to me and told me she was dead. Another night I made sure Hubby was still alive and breathing after I dreamed he was killed protecting me.

They're making me not want to go to sleep for fear of another nightmare. This has been going on for a couple of weeks now. I meant to tell my therapist, but I was focused on my problems with Hubby and forgot to bring it up.

I'm exhausted. All I want to do is go to bed and fall into a deep dreamless sleep. Hopefully I will tonight.

Lost connection

I'm a horrible wife. I feel so sad, but the word sad doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling inside.

This is very hard for me to talk about, but since it's anonymous and online maybe that will make it a little easier for me.

I have a very hard time with sex when I'm not manic. I'm a sexual abuse survivor and for most of my life sex has been a very difficult subject for me. Now that's translated into my marriage and I'm afraid I've done a lot of damage to it.

For years I've shot down Hubby's ideas, wants, and needs and now he's given up. He says he's trained himself to not even try anymore. I felt so horrible when he told me that tonight. I never stopped to think about what I was doing to him, only what I wanted. That's not a marriage. It was all one sided - me.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I deserve the end result of all those years of saying no. Why should I expect him to keep trying?

I want to fix the damage I've done, but I don't know how or even where to start. We haven't had sex in 3 months, maybe longer. Neither of us can remember the last time. I'm so disconnected from him. I feel like there's this invisible wall between us and I don't know how to break it down and he's too beaten down to try. I don't know what to do.

I'm so lonely. You never think about how important human contact and sexuality are until they're gone. I feel that deprivation deep inside and it hurts so much. I need to find that connection with him again, otherwise I feel like I'll wilt away.

I feel so alone in a house full of people. No connection. I'm afraid I'll lose him if I can't fix this. I've already lost a part of him and I don't know how and if I can get him back.

Jealousy and guilt

It's my stepson's 18th birthday today and instead of me being happy and in a celebratory mood, I'm feeling petty and jealous. I keep thinking back to my birthday that was pretty much overlooked. I'm trying not to, but it's hard. I felt cheated out of my birthday and it's hard to see someone else have a great one. Talk about childish and immature.

I'm not supposed to feel this way. Only a mean person would feel this way and I don't want to be a mean person. I'm usually go out of my way to be nice, but my stepson can really bring the mean out in me. I don't like that about me at all. I hate that I let him have that kind of power over my emotions.

I only let out a small percentage of what I'm feeling, though, when I'm pissed off at him. I work really hard at hiding the rest and I think I do a decent job. If I didn't, it would be constant world war 3 in my house and Hubby would stay perpetually upset with me. That's how often I get pissed at my stepson.

I feel really bad, really guilty that I feel this way, but it's the truth. Does that make me a horrible person? I'm afraid that it does.

I have a 15 year history with him that has been nothing but rivalry all this time. We've always been locked in a battle for Hubby's attention/affection/whatever you want to pick. Hubby made it perfectly clear when we met that he would choose his son over me. Now he says things are different.

I don't know where I stand. Even after all these years, I still feel like my stepson comes first. That he's more important to Hubby than I am, and that if push came to shove I'd be the one pushed out the door while he got to stay.

Yearning for stability

I'm very sad. Today was hard, it being Father's Day. My dad died last July and I missed him a lot today.

I can't put much of what I'm feeling into words right now. I just want to curl up on my bed and cry, but the tears won't come. I can sense them, but they're locked up and I don't know how to unlock them.

That's been happening a lot lately. Me not being able to identify and express how I'm feeling. It's peculiar (not to mention frustrating as all hell) to be feeling something almost overpowering in intensity but not be able to tell what it is, to put a name to it. I've never had this problem before that I can remember.

Also, I've been having weird dreams, and several nightmares as well. Last night was the worst. I dreamed that Hubby was killed while trying to rescue me from an attack. I woke up sitting straight up in bed on the verge of screaming. It was so realistic. I had to take an anti-anxiety med to be able to get back to sleep.

I'm so tired of all this confusion and pain. I yearn for stability, but fear I'll never find it.

A dilemma of origin

It's been a crazy few days since I last posted. Truly a ride on the bipolar roller coaster.

The worst of it was when I was in a panic over something created solely in my mind. That morning I was freaking out and my shrink had to give me the mental equivalent of a slap to get me to snap out of it. Even though my first reaction to what he said was defensiveness, after a while I began to see the truth in his words and I was able to regain control over myself.

Since then I've been in control. No more crises, real or imagined.

I do, however, have a dilemma. I thought I had finally made the no-suicide decision that my shrink has been wanting me to make, but now it seems I may not have after all. He said if it's based on feelings then it will only last as long as the feelings do, but if it's a choice made by my head then it's a permanent decision.

My problem is that I can't tell whether it was my heart or my head that made the decision. I simply cannot tell where it's coming from. I think it's my head, but there's feelings there too.

I've been ruled by my emotions instead of my head for pretty much my whole life. I'm only now starting to learn how to not do that. Honestly, I don't know how to make a decision not based on emotion. I even have trouble differentiating between my heart and my head. A lot of the time I have no idea where a motivation is coming from.

Another issue complicating matters further is that I don't trust myself. That doesn't help when I'm trying to pinpoint the origin of the decision. Whatever I think, I question myself.

I was hoping that putting all of this in a post would help me work it out, but I'm no closer to an answer than I was this afternoon. It's definitely frustrating. I thought I had taken a huge step in my therapy today. Well, it looks like that step will take a little longer. Hopefully not too long, though.

Dance of the fireflies

Here I am at 12:30am and I'm still wide awake. Hubby pointed out tonight that I'm not on my schedule at all anymore. He sees that I'm having problems again.

I did get some peace tonight. I sat outside between 10 and 11pm listening to my fountain and soft classical music. I also got a special treat. There were fireflies in our yard tonight. We don't get them much in our yard, usually only in the fields near where we live. So that was a treat. I love them. They're so beautiful.

Falling into the hole again

I'm tired of this instability. I feel myself falling back into the fucking hole and I'm clawing at the earth with my hands trying to grab hold of anything I can find to pull me out, or at the very least stop my descent. My descent into madness. Ok, so that's a little melodramatic. Call it poetic license.

My shrink said the last several months my bipolar has been very mixed and disorganized, and that because of that there's no way he can predict what it's going to do next. Well, he's definitely right. It has been extremely mixed and disorganized. And I can't predict what it will do either, and I've been living with it for over half my life. Why should I expect him to be able to do it?

It's never been this bad for this long before. Also, I've always gotten a respite from it after a bad episode. At least until this time. Unless this has all been just one really fucking long episode. But I've never had a mixed episode last anywhere near this long. Maybe a couple of weeks. But months? Never this long.

Another thing is the rapidity with which the moods are changing. Granted, I've been a rapid cycler for years now, but never like this. When I'm mixed they're cycling so fast they're almost in tandem - mania and depression on top of each other. Not a good mix, let me tell you.

I just don't know what's wrong with me. Why is this happening to me? I need answers and I'm afraid that no one has them. And I need some relief. A week is not enough. I need more than that. I need time to be able to breathe again.

And the schedule crumbles

Well my schedule has been blown to hell. I did get up at 7 something, but as soon as I ate a bowl of cereal, I went back to bed and slept till after 1pm. No morning sunlight, no morning ritual, I even forgot my morning meds. It's too late to take them now. I just have to skip them and go to my next dose.

I haven't had lunch, only a sandwich that I finished eating about 5 minutes ago because I was starving. I only started supper cooking about 10 minutes ago, and it'll take 2 hours at least. I'll be surprised if we eat before 9pm. I probably won't get my meds taken until 10pm or so.

I highly doubt I'll be able to fall asleep at 11 tonight. Not even 12. I just won't be sleepy. Not with me sleeping so late in the day.

I feel off. Pretty much awful. What's wrong with me? Why can't I maintain a good healthy schedule for myself? I couldn't even make it a week. How do I get back on it? I guess I could drug myself silly to sleep like they did in the hospital, but then I'd be suffering the aftereffects the next day. That was not fun.

My doctor gave me a prescription to help me sleep if I need it - the same stuff they gave me in the hospital. Looks like I need to fill it. Because even though I'm not actually having problems sleeping yet, it's only a matter of time, given the way I'm starting to feel.

I really HATE this!! Can't I get a freakin day off around here?!

An undercurrent of not so good

I feel off. I have for a couple of days now. I don't know what it is with me. I'm happy, for the most part, it's just that there's this undercurrent of something. Something I can't even begin to define, but which feels not so good.

I don't want to go back to that place again. Not so soon. I've only been feeling better a little over a week. I'm not ready to drop back into the hole yet.

I'm tired. I think I'm going to take my meds and go back to bed for a while. Maybe this is all caused by fatigue.

Dead tired

Last night was the first night that I tried a bedtime ritual. It worked pretty good, actually.

I started with a relaxing shower, then put on a face masque, moisturized my skin, did a skin treatment for my hands, and went to bed by 11pm. I fell right asleep.

I'm sure it didn't hurt that I was dead tired. Hubby said I fell asleep before he did. Usually it's the other way around.

I'm still struggling with mornings, though. I'm getting up, but staying awake even a couple of hours later is so hard. I keep nodding off and what little energy I get from the sun wears off within 30 minutes. I just can't seem to stay awake. It's almost 1pm and I could so take a nap right now!

I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Maybe not enough sleep at night? Maybe my meds amplify the tiredness. I'll have to talk to my doctor, I guess.

Looking for ideas

It's been really hard maintaining this new schedule. I haven't mastered going to bed at an early time yet. I've been doing good in the morning, though. Getting up early - by 7:30am every day so far. I think I'll adjust my schedule a bit. Let's see it works.

Get up 7:30am
Breakfast 8am
Morning Meds 9am
Lunch 12pm
Dinner 5pm
Evening Meds 8:30pm
Go to bed 11pm

I've been going out in the morning and getting a big dose of morning sunlight, trying to reset my internal clock. I feel a jolt every morning after doing it. It's like morning coffee, actually. Maybe it's the Goddess and the God welcoming me and telling me good morning.

I'm working on constructing morning and evening rituals to help me get up and go to bed. As you can see, I've got part of the morning one done. Now I just need a evening one. Too bad I don't have a tub anymore. I'd work that in easily. If anyone has any ideas that I could use, please don't hesitate to post them in a comment. I sure would appreciate it. :-)

Another thing I'm working on is a book of things to remember about my bipolar. Things to help, basically all the stuff I know when things are good but forget when things are bad. It's in the planning stages right now, however. Any ideas for that would be appreciated as well. :-)

I'm feeling pretty good. Isn't it amazing what sleep and structure do for you?

Discharged from the psych ward

I know I haven't posted for quite some time. For those who may have been worried about me, my apologies. I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital last Tuesday and was discharged this afternoon.

I feel better after having been in there, but I have mixed emotions about the way it was all handled. I'd made the decision that I was going to go inpatient. I'd planned on going in on last Wednesday around 2pm or so. Things didn't work out that way.

My shrink emailed me saying he wanted me to call him at home that night (Tuesday) and tell him that I was going inpatient voluntarily or he would start the EOD process. (For those not familiar, EOD stands for Emergency Order of Detention and is the last thing you want if you're a psych patient - it gets the courts involved.) So I called him at home and said I'd go voluntary. He talked to Hubby and I was whisked away to the hospital that very hour.

I then spent 1 very long boring week in there.

I thought they were going to adjust my meds, but nope. Not one iota of adjusting happened. They did, however, straighten out my sleep cycle. That's the only thing I can account for why I feel better. Now the trick is to see how long the change lasts. I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that the sailing stays smooth.

I know that it's up to me to make it last, but you know the old saying 'old habits die hard'. Well, it's easy to go to sleep when you're bored to tears in an unfamiliar hospital ward that shuts off the lights and makes you go to bed by 10pm. It's much harder when you're back at home in familiar surroundings and old routines with plenty to do and no one's shutting off the lights and making you go to bed but you.

There is one thing that is worse since I went in. I'm seeing things. Much more than I did before. I'm seeing bugs out of the corner of my eye and I'm feeling them crawling on my skin. It seems to happen in tandem. First I see them, then I feel them. Part of me knows they're not there, but part of me has to ask to make sure. I don't trust myself about them at all. I don't trust that I'm seeing them, yet I don't trust that I'm not seeing them. Does that make any sense at all?

I didn't tell any of the staff, though. I didn't want it jeopardizing my discharge. Since it's not putting me or anyone else in harm's way, then they can't keep me because of it. I know this. Yet I was still afraid they'd find a way to keep me hospitalized because of it. If I was still in danger, then yes, I would need to stay. But seeing bugs? No, that's simply annoying. Don't worry, I'll tell my shrink about it on Wednesday, if not him then my therapist and doctor on Thursday. I see all 3 this week.

I did find out that seeing walls and other things breathe is more common than I could have ever thought. Funny what you learn in there from the other patients, isn't it? You definitely find out you're not as unusual as you thought you were.

When I was discharged, I was so happy to be going home. But I'll tell you, when I walked through that door and they shut it behind me and all that was around me was open, it was very strange. No fences, no staff supervising me. Just me and Hubby and the world. I was free to do whatever I wanted, go wherever I wanted, and I didn't have to ask. It's amazing how quickly the human animal can acclimatize and adapt to a new environment. We may not always like the environment, but we get used to it very quickly.

What I need to do now is to integrate parts of my old environment with parts of the new one I experienced this past week. To that end, I have a new schedule now:
Get up 7am
Breakfast 7:30am
Meds 8:30am
Lunch 12pm
Dinner 5pm
Meds 8:30pm
Go to Bed 11pm

I know, I didn't make the bedtime, lol. It's a work in progress. :-)

Pros and cons

I'm afraid that my shrink is going to take some kind of action to make me go inpatient if I keep sitting on the fence like I have been. I gotta tell you, I'm freaking out a little about that. I so do not want to see how our legal system works up close and personal.

So why am I fighting so hard against going inpatient?
1) It terrifies me. Don't know why, but it does.
2) I've always viewed it as a prison rather than a safe place where I can get a break.
3) I'm a control freak and if I go in, I have to give up most of the control over my life for who knows how long.
4) I hate being away from Hubby for a long period of time.
5) Did I mention it terrifies me? Well, that merits being listed twice.
6) It would focus too much attention on me. For some reason that's embarrassing and to be avoided at all cost.

Now the reasons I should go inpatient.
1) It really is a safe place. I can't hurt or kill myself in there. Out here there's a very real danger of that.
2) They can adjust my meds to maybe stop this mixed episode before it's full blown.
3) I wouldn't have to take care of anyone else for a change. I'd get a break.
4) I wouldn't have to meet expectations and handle responsibilities for a while.
5) I could show my emotions whenever I want without worrying that I'm a burden.
6) I could get away from the chaotic environment here at home.

I don't know how I'm feeling at the moment. I'm truly mixed right now. I have the swirling racing thoughts but the anxiety and depression, too. It's very uncomfortable. All those reasons for going inpatient sound very appealing. But the ones in the first list are so strong they overpower the ones in the second list. I swear, I am so screwed up.

It's only 12:30am. What am I going to do all night? If I'm feeling like this now, who knows how bad it will get as the night progresses? I tend to do much worse at night than during the day. Nighttime is when I've always gotten so bad that I attempted suicide.

You would think that knowing that would mean I'd make sure I slept through the night, but no. I had to be cursed with being a night owl to the extreme. I'm definitely a night person. I think I'm hard wired that way.

This is overkill

I wonder if it's as exhausting for my shrink to have a patient like me as it is to be a patient like me?

There's so much in my head that I want to get out, but I can't focus enough to get it to come out right. It's just a jumbled mess and nothing makes sense. A cacophony of thoughts and ideas that just keeps spinning faster and faster and it won't let me go.

The ups and downs are coming so fast that they're overlapping. Sometimes I'm just up, other times I'm just down, and the rest of the time I'm both at the same time - which seems impossible, but isn't. Right now I'm both at the same time.

I woke up after a few hours of sleep and couldn't go back to sleep. I felt like I had the worst hangover even though I hadn't had anything to drink last night. I guess it's from the physical stress on my body from this flood of ups and downs. I'm pretty sure the human body wasn't meant to sustain this state of mind for longer than a very short time. But mine doesn't seem to have gotten the memo about that, because it's not stopping. If anything, it's going even faster than last night.

I was already very vulnerable emotionally. The littlest thing would affect me on a huge scale. This is overkill on my mind and body. This is like running up to a person with a horrific migraine, holding up a strobe light in their face and screaming at the top of your lungs in their ear. Trust me, I know what that would do to them. I have migraines.

I just want it to stop.

Not again

The playing field has shifted once again. This is getting absolutely ridiculous! It's like I'm on the deck of a boat in a freaking hurricane with 30 foot swells! Can't I ever get a break? How the hell am I ever supposed to get a handle on things when they keep changing the rules??

This time last night I was seriously contemplating checking myself into a psychiatric hospital for suicidal thoughts, urges, and intent. Now my thoughts are racing in my head again. They're whirling so fast I can't sort them out. It makes it very hard to concentrate and focus. Ideas are hitting me from every direction at once. I have so very many projects I want to start that I can't even decide which to start first. But at the same time I don't feel like I have any energy to start any of them, let alone finish them. Just the thought of actually doing them is too much. I don't know that I could do even one of them right now. It's just like I was a month ago.

I'm feeling reckless, daring, sexual, extremely creative, playful, spend-crazy, and I want to indulge in everything. But it's as if the universe doesn't want me to have too good of a time, so for an added bonus, I get to keep my sadness, depression, anger, frustration, confusion, irritation, and a whole hell of a lot of anxiety and panic. After all, we must have balance, right?

I'm definitely experiencing a mixed state.

Hubby and I went to lunch today and that's when I started feeling and acting playful. I ate about 3 times as much as I usually do and every bite was simply exquisite! It was like I couldn't get enough. Then we went to the video store and grocery store and both places he said he could tell I was beginning to panic because of all the people around me. There's that balance thing again.

I have so much energy infusing my body and brain right now that I could run in circles. My whole being is vibrating and pulsing with glowing energy. I'm like an engine that's revved way up, but is stuck in neutral.

I swear, this SUCKS!!! This isn't fun. I'm not having fun. Mania should be fun, but this isn't fun. Mixed states are the worst and I just fucking came out of one!!!!! You have GOT to be kidding me! Is that the only fucking break I get??? Let's see... I got to enjoy the mixed state from hell, then for intermission a lovely suicidal depression, now I get to follow that up with another mixed state?? NO.

All day I'd been surprised and cautiously optimistic that perhaps my depression was lessening. I thought that I was out of the woods, that I wasn't in danger anymore. Then tonight I realized what was going on, and now I see how very wrong I was. A mixed state is just as dangerous, if not more. And a whole lot more volatile. I'm much more unstable mixed than when just depressed. And at 3pm I may be able to handle this for now, but at 3am?

I don't want to play this game any more.

In a very dangerous place

My shrink stopped me today to ask how I was. My stock answer of "I'm ok" came out before I even thought about it. He asked if I was functioning at home. I told him barely. I later told him that not only am I not ok, I'm so not ok it's scary.

I'm at the breaking point again. I don't know how much more I can take. I'm seriously considering voluntarily going into the hospital, because my suicidal thoughts and urges are getting very strong. I'm also very impulsive right now. And reckless. Not because I don't think anything will happen to me, but because I'm hoping for it. I'm mentally adding up all the pills I have, wondering if they're enough or not. I'm in a very scary place right now. Very dangerous for me.

I asked him last week "how do I know if the danger is great enough for me to go in?" He said at this point any danger is too much and that I should go in at the littlest sign. So according to that, I should be in the hospital right now, but the only one I want to put me inpatient is my shrink. I don't see him again until next Wednesday unless I'm lucky and he has a cancellation tomorrow. I don't know if I just see him in the hall that he can start the process. That would be digging into someone else's time with him. He probably would take me to someone else to do it and I don't want that. He's the only one I trust completely.

I'm terrified right now. I know without a doubt that I'm not safe. I know I need a break. But I'm still terrified.

Sleep deprevation and cocktails

I need sleep. I'm so sleep deprived that I can't see straight. I'm getting 6-9 hours in bed, but that is broken into bouts of sleep that are no longer than 1 1/2 hours each. No one can get any decent rest that way.

My thoughts have turned to my meds. I have 4 different prescriptions that can help. 2 are specifically for sleep: Ambien and Lunesta. The other 2 are for anxiety but produce lots of drowsiness: Klonopin and Ativan. They were prescibed to me not only for anxiety, but for sleep as well.

The goal is to get a full night of sleep without waking up until late morning. The problem is, not one of them on their own has done the trick. Last night I took ambien and in less than 2 hours I was wide awake and pissed off that I was awake. It used to work for me. So, about an hour later I decided I was sick of this crap and took a double dose of ativan. I eventually fell back asleep and slept for maybe 3 more hours before waking up yet again. I did fall back asleep and got a couple more hours. But I feel like I didn't sleep at all last night.

I'm achey, exhausted, and cranky as all hell.

So what cocktail should I try tonight? I'd prefer to avoid the Lunesta, simply because it gives you a nasty taste in your mouth after taking it. Yuck. And I need to try to balance it so that I'll be able to wake up by noon tomorrow. I have to be at my CBT class by 1pm awake and alert. I could just see it now if I were to walk in still stoned out of my mind on sleep meds. My shrink would of course ask why I was like that and I'd have to tell him. I don't lie to him. He would flip if he knew I was playing with my meds. Say I was being reckless and a danger to myself. Not a good scenario. It wouldn't end well for me.

I know I'm not supposed to play with my meds. Normally I don't. I'm not the one with the medical degree hanging on my wall. But it's after midnight and I'm freaking desperate. My pattern hasn't changed: sleep problems start, spiral downhill fast, and I end up taking reckless action out of desperation. It's amazing what a person will do for sleep.

I think I'll try an ambien, ativan, and klonopin. Just 1 each. We'll see how that goes.

Nothing underneath

I feel empty and disconnected from everything and everyone. I feel shut down. I interact with the world, and on the surface everything appears normal, but underneath there's nothing. No texture, no depth. None of the vibrance that should be there.

It reminds me of the story "The Langoliers" by Stephen King. It's in his book "Four Past Midnight". For those who haven't read it, the brief description is that people get caught in the recent past where everything is stale; colors, tastes, smells, and sounds are washed away to flatness, a mere echo of their former selves. The vibrance and resonance of life is gone.

That's a fairly close approximation to what I'm experiencing. I realize that sounds melodramatic, but it's a decent description of how I'm feeling.

If you haven't read it, it's a very good novella. I hadn't thought about it before, but the story is a good metaphor for dropping into and overcoming depression.

My apologies. I'm a bit philosophical tonight.

Surprise was the theme for today

I told 3 separate mental health professionals today that I had been in danger of suicide yesterday. You would think that would be a red flag to them that maybe I was in trouble. Would you believe that only one of them offered help to me today when I told him? I'm stunned. I figured all three would ask if I were still suicidal today. Only one did, in a roundabout way. I knew he was wanting to know, though, so that counts in my book as asking. At least he showed he cared. The other 2 didn't. And though I do know that they care for my well-being, I didn't sense it today.

I don't know, maybe it's all in my head. Maybe it's because I'm feeling so disconnected from everyone. It's like I'm in my own little world where nothing penetrates very far.

I'm actually surprised that I'm not feeling suicidal right now. In the past, my pattern has been that once I cross the threshold to actively planning my imminent death, the suicidal thoughts and intent are almost constant for quite a long time. Days, sometimes weeks.

Right now though, all I'm feeling is disconnection, emptiness, and weariness. I feel like I'm on hold, waiting for something. I just don't know what. I'm operating on automatic pilot at this point.

What am I going to do?

Today was a very hard day. I'm faced with a serious decision about choosing life and I'm stuck until I make that decision. I can't do much work on the really important life-changing things until I decide that no matter what I'm going to choose life and all that comes with it. Until then, I'm mostly stuck working on the superficial stuff that I've worked on for the last freaking 18 years. I can't keep doing that. I just can't.

I'm having such a hard time making the decision, even though it's a very simple one. Choose life no matter what or choose death. I just can't seem to let go, however. Suicide has been an option for me off and on (mostly on) since I was 16. This may sound weird, but it's kind of like a security blanket. I always have an option. An out, if things get too bad. In its own way, I think it has helped me through a lot of hard times. Just knowing there was another option for me allowed me not to take it. How will I react to not having that option anymore? Just the thought of losing it terrifies me. I really sound like a crazy person now.

In an earlier post I wrote about having trouble asking for help. I experienced that today. During lunch I was so miserable all I could think about was ending the pain. I didn't have access to any means, which was good because I was feeling very impulsive. I knew I wasn't safe. I kept hoping it would pass. Luckily it did.

I'm no longer in danger, but I'm still in a lot of pain. I don't know whether I should tell my shrink about it or not. I know he wants to know if I'm in danger. He didn't say anything about telling him if I was, but am not now. I was too scared to ask for help or to tell anyone. Too scared of the consequences, of calling attention to myself, even that I was blowing things out of proportion. I'm pathetic.

I'm running out of strength. Something's going to have to change. I can't go on like this much longer.

I have such a strong and urgent need to get away. When asked what I wanted to get away from, my reply was "everything". I feel trapped. I'm suffocating.

I'm not getting much sleep again. I feel like I'm losing my connection to other people. Even hubby. I'm trying desperately to reach out and grab hold of him, but as soon as I let go the feeling of connection is gone. That makes me very sad.