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.

Disorganized thoughts

Well, it's official. My mom is in her apartment. And of all days to move her, Mother's Day. I feel bad that I couldn't get her anything for Mother's Day. I don't know, maybe she saw us finally getting her moved in as her present. That's awful, isn't it? I'm such a bad daughter.

She seemed happy. But I'm ambivalent. I don't really know how I feel about her being gone. I do know that I miss her presence in the house. But at the same time it's not a totally bad thing. I feel more in charge again. More like one of the adults in the house. I don't know if that makes any sense.

I'm having trouble remembering to take my meds. I've missed a few times this past week. I told my doctor about it and he said as long as it isn't 3 straight days in a row I'll be ok. It hasn't been, but I need to be more on top of it. I'm already unstable as it is. I don't need more instability in my life.

This post is jumping all over the place, it seems like. My thoughts are disorganized tonight.

I feel bad that I made my shrink worry about me. I didn't mean to. I thought I was being reassuring that I wasn't in imminent danger. I guess my perception of what I conveyed was way off.

If my thoughts are disorganized, I need to be more on top of taking my meds. I was so good. It wasn't until the day I had my biopsy and missed them that I started having trouble remembering them.

Hubby said he feels really guilty about not doing anything for me for my birthday or Mother's Day. I was so tempted to tell him it's ok, but I didn't. All I said was I understand. That was hard.

I'm very anxious about tomorrow. I'm supposed to get the results of my biopsy. I'm dying to know the answer, but at the same time I'm terrified to find out. It's unreal to think there might be something seriously wrong with me. That just doesn't seem possible.

I feel like I should be posting something important, but what's coming out of my head is nothingness to me. I keep thinking that if I keep typing something will come out worth typing, but it's not working. I give up. I'm going to the store. We're out of some things we need.

Disappointment abounds

Well, I'm home from the Beltane Bash. Actually, we left around 9:30 pm or so. Less than 2 hours after we got there. I'm so disappointed. I thought I was going to get to meet and mingle with a lot of other pagans, but no one said a word to us the whole time we were there. There was supposed to be a lot of dancing, but not many people danced. Most of them just sat at their respective tables looking around the room.

I danced to one song. I did it for 2 reasons. Number one, I really loved the song. Number two, I'd made a promise to myself that I'd dance at this thing. I had a lot of fun dancing. Actually, that was the only fun I had. The rest of the time I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't so disappointed and sad. So why didn't I dance to more than one song? I wanted to. But I wouldn't let myself. I was so inhibited and afraid of looking like a fool that I almost never left my chair. It's almost too bad I wasn't manic. Almost. But I definitely would have been dancing then.

I'd looked forward to the Bash since January! And for it to turn out like this, it's hard for me. It was one of the major things that had kept me out of the hospital. I didn't want to be locked up and miss it. I might as well have not even bothered.

I've had the urge to cut for several days now and it's gotten much stronger the past couple of days. The only reason I didn't was that I didn't want cuts on my arm when I went to the Bash. Well that reason's gone. I want to cut tonight.

I feel so sad and disappointed, but there's also an emptiness. Like I'm shutting down. I'm so tired.

Trouble asking for help

I think my shrink is very worried about me. He wants me to tell him if I need help staying alive and that I'll go inpatient if I feel self-destructive. I've promised him that I will tell him if I need that help. When I made the promise I was confident that I could keep it. But in the middle of the night things are different. Fears are magnified and that confidence is shaken.

There have been countless nights that I have needed that help, but didn't ask. Hearing the pleas from inside to end the suffering and wanting to act on them (and acting on them at times), I would convince myself that I wasn't that bad off. That my pain wasn't important enough or urgent enough to require assistance. That I was either blowing things out of proportion or just trying to get attention.

That's what I've always done my whole life. Trivialize things. Focus on the little things while avoiding the life changing matters that count. Felt so unimportant that I wasn't worth anyone's time or effort. That I was a nuisance or a bother. I'm famous for saying "it's ok, it's not that big of a deal". I don't feel like I deserve help to stay alive. Any help, actually. I feel like I'm taking up valuable resources that other people deserve much more than me. I crave attention so much that my soul is literally screaming for it, yet when attention is actually focused on me all I want to do is shrink away into a corner and hide from it, become invisible. I'm so fucked up it's unbelievable.

Every time I've acted on those pleas was a cry for help. But I always held back, either by not taking a lethal dose of pills or by getting help in time, or both. On the times I got help, I was so embarrassed because I was calling attention to myself. The only reason I actually asked for help was that I was afraid I actually had taken a lethal dose and was going to die when I really didn't want to. The rest of the times I just rode it out, sick as a dog and not telling anyone why. You see, even though I was crying out for help, my belief of not deserving it, along with not wanting to call attention to myself, wouldn't let me voice the cry.

So how do I ask for help now if I need it? My whole life I've purposely avoided asking for the very help my shrink is now wanting me to ask for. Am I even capable of judging whether or not I need that help? Can I step far enough back from the pain and impulse to assess the risk accurately? I recognize how impulsive I am. Will that get in my way? And if I can assess the risk correctly, can I overcome my fears and make the call? So, the question is when the time comes, because I know it will - it always does - will I be able to ask for help to stay alive?

What scares me is I don't know the answer.

Closed off

The moon is full tonight, so it's an Esbat. I was outside feeling wondrous joy in connection with the Goddess when all of a sudden I started to feel so sad. I wanted to curl up into a ball right there on my lawn and sob until there were no tears left to fall. I felt so desolate and alone. I no longer felt the presence of the Goddess and knew I had closed off to her. I tried to open back up to her, but to no avail.

I know things are bad for me when I lose touch with Wicca and nature. I've always been in tune with nature. In fact, when things are at their worst, I'm drawn to it even more. That's why I've been to the lake so much lately. But I haven't gone in over a week, and I can feel the lake pulling me toward it. The pull was very strong tonight. Maybe that's why I closed off to the Goddess. I'm resisting the water's call to my soul.

Door #1 or Door #2?

I feel defeated. I was told that my life will always be an uphill battle, that I'll probably always have suicidal thoughts, that what comes so easy to everyone else will be a lot harder for me, that even to get to that point will take several years of intense work and therapy. Why should I even bother?? So that it will get a little better? Am I supposed to just accept that my life will be a daily struggle until I die? I'm so ANGRY! I have been since yesterday when I was told all this.

Everyone has always told me that medicine and therapy will allow me to live a normal life. So far that hasn't been the case. So was yesterday the first time someone actually told me the truth?? I really wanted someone to convince me that it was possible for me to live a normal life. Not that it wasn't.

So now I have a choice. Do I choose Door #1 - a lifetime of daily struggle, or do I choose Door #2 - say enough is enough and end the struggle? Door #1 means a lifetime of suffering for me but does have rewards. Hubby and the rest of my family and friends, among others. Door #2 ends my suffering, but begins everyone else's.

Today I choose Door #1. Tomorrow I'll make the choice again.

The torment resumes

It's coming back. All of the emotional torment. I can feel it stirring in the back of my brain. This afternoon I sat outside on the porch rather than go inside because I knew there was going to be a huge argument with lots of yelling. Yelling scares me. A lot. So I took my shrink's advice and I took myself out of the situation. Well, that's what I've been telling myself. In actuality, I was cowering in fear on the porch because I was simply too afraid to go inside.

That miraculous phenomenon of mental pain going away when physical pain exists isn't so miraculous when it ends. It just leaves you wanting more of it. So I'm left with a major urge to cut to bring back the pain and send the emotions into the void where I won't have to feel them for a while. Oh I still hurt from the biopsy, but it's fading to a dull ache, which leaves my mind free to pick up where it left off.

It was so nice to have a break from them. To not have to feel all of the torment, anguish, struggle and duality, the pain. I know I use those words a lot, and I don't feel they really capture or describe what I feel, but they're all I can come up with at the moment.

I want to run away. I want to stop being me. I want to have a life that's not filled with all of the above. I know I can't have any of that, and I know that's part of what's tearing me apart. I just don't know how to stop wanting it.

It's funny how that happens

It's amazing how you can be so distracted by physical pain that you mostly forget the severe mental pain you've been in. (I guess that's why I have the habit of cutting.) Why am I in physical pain, you ask? No, I didn't cut. I had to have a bone marrow biopsy yesterday. I'm still hurting from that, but it's not too bad. Nothing Advil can't take care of.

I was so scared in the hospital. But as scared as I was of standing up for myself to the staff, I was more afraid of the pain of the biopsy. So I stood up for myself and was adamant that I wanted sedation. No "just a local" for this girl! I got what I wanted and I don't remember a thing. I do remember the anesthesiologist, though. He was really nice. I felt safe with him.

Well, I would write more, but I think instead I'll just go lay down and rest. I'm hurting more in this chair than I was on the couch.

Dangling from the ledge

I want to run away. As fast and as far as I can.

I'm dangling from the ledge and little by little my fingers are slipping. I don't know how much longer I can hold on.

You know how when your skin is burned it's much more sensitive and everything hurts more than usual? Even a breeze will make those damaged nerves stand up and scream. That's me since Friday.

I need to go to the lake. I haven't in several days. I need to be closer to the water and nature.

Mock Halloween and primal urges

I'm loving this weather! It feels like October. Like Halloween. Very strange weather for the southern U.S. for this time of year. But you know what? Weather-wise, Halloween is one of my favorite times of the year. I want to take this weather into my soul and never let it go.

I'm feeling reckless, daring. Very sexual. I want to take risks. Experience pleasure.

I'm feeling impish. This weather is making me feel so primal. I can't explain it. Perhaps because I'm so intertwined with the Goddess and the Earth. With all of nature, actually.

I'll probably go driving down the road to the lake. That's a wonderful road to drive with the windows down when you have perfect weather.

Un-special birthday

This was just about the worst birthday I think I've ever had.

The only gift given to me today was a boquet of roses by my stepson's girlfriend. I was very touched.

Yesterday my mom had me take her to the store where she bought my birthday present. Well, I picked it out, put it in the cart, brought it home, and brought it in the house. The only thing mom did was pay for it. So it really wasn't like a birthday present at all. I didn't even get it on my birthday. But maybe I'm just being unreasonable. She did get me a nice card, though.

No gift at all from hubby. Not even a card.

No birthday cake either.

I was hoping at least for a special dinner out somewhere. No such luck. At 8:30 I finally ended up going to a fast food place to get supper for everyone because I was so hungry my stomach hurt. To top it all off, it was cold and raining pretty hard on the way to get the food.

I was so miserable and crying so hard that I could barely see the road in front of me. Once I got there I called and left a message for my therapist. I was hurting so much and I wanted to hear her voice so bad, even though I knew she wouldn't be there. I don't even remember what I said in my message to her. I felt so alone.

When I saw those roses today, I wanted to cry because someone that wasn't even family had done more than anyone else to show they thought my birthday was special. No one else made me feel that way. Never before have I had a birthday where I didn't feel special. I didn't feel special at all today. It made me so sad.

Turbulence

I'm feeling a lot right now. Angry, overwhelmed, sad - those are the main feelings. I want to scream, cry, cut, throw things, break things!

I don't know if I want to be 34! All 34 means is that for 18 years no one has helped me. That's all it means. That I've just suffered another year of torment. It really is just proof that nothing has worked for me and nothing will.

I'm not even halfway through my life! I can't go through the rest of my life this way. They say you can do anything. After all, what other choice do you have? There is always another choice.

How can I possibly have gone from 16 to 34 and NOT gotten any better?? Not only haven't I gotten better, I've actually gotten worse! It doesn't make sense!

Right now any little thing is too much. I don't feel like I can handle anything. I hate this!

Enduring spirit or cold reminder?

I'm 34 today. I'm not sure how I feel about it. Part of me is surprised I made it to 34. Part of me is afraid that I'm facing another possible 34 years of this torment. Then there's the little kid part of me that's happy and excited because it's my birthday and that's my day - no one else's. And I'll admit it - the presents are very cool. :-)

It being my birthday and all, I feel like reflecting. I never expected to make it this far. Every year I expect that I'll be dead before my next birthday. And somehow every year another birthday comes and goes and I'm still here. Talk about a testament to the power of the human spirit - to endure such pain and suffering year after year and still find a way to continue on. However, due to the duality I'm experiencing lately, I also see the flip side. That instead of it being a testament of the enduring spirit, it's a cold hard reminder that things will never change for me. I've seen myself go from 16 to 34 without change in the turmoil and pain. That is not a good thing, and does not predict a happy future.

This last year was a very hard one for me. My dad died, my Mom moved in with me, I experienced suicidal depressions and the highest of manias, not to mention this current mixed episode. Many changes and fluctuations. For over a solid year my life has been in chaos, and has yet to settle down.

Which path to take?

I can feel deep inside that I'm all out of strength and I know I need them to take over for me.

However, now I have another foe. I got my lab work back. My white count is still way too high. It hasn't changed at all in these past 3 weeks. Whispers of leukemia drift in the background. That scares me.

But these new feelings I have toward my bipolar scare me too.

So now the question is: which do I focus on? Do I put what energy I have left into my mental health or physical health? Because I'll be totally honest with you - I don't have the strength or energy to do both. Maybe not even one at this point. My reserves are all tapped out.

What do I do? Hubby and my friend say to focus on the bipolar. I'm afraid to not focus on the other. What if not focusing on it makes it worse? And if I focus on the other, I'm afraid the bipolar will win. It's already so close anyways.

I don't know what to do, and to ask those who can advise would automatically put me on the bipolar path. Maybe that's the one I should choose. It certainly is the more dangerous of the two since I've lost my will and faith, I would think. But then again, I'm not a medical doctor, so how am I supposed to know the other isn't just as dangerous, just in a different way.

My fears are going around in circles. I'm not going to get anywhere tonight. I think I just need to keep walking in the direction I was already pointed and see what happens from there. Maybe they can help me be more comfortable with that decision.

Elusivity defined

I finally defined what's been so elusive these past few days. I've lost 2 things:

1) the will to fight
2) the faith that my bipolar will get better

I need both of those to survive this illness. Otherwise I'll just lay down and die. Which is what I'm willing to do at this point, and I don't like it at all.

I want to be clear on something. I'm NOT suicidal. I have no visions or plans to overdose on meds or shoot myself with one of hubby's guns. I don't want to die. I want to live. And I believe in order to live, I need to get those 2 things back that I lost. I just don't know how to do that.

All I can hope is that they don't lock me up. I'm not in imminent danger. I'm not even suicidal. The only thing I am is if I were knocked down onto a railroad track with a train coming, I wouldn't care about getting back up. Is that enough to lock me up? I don't know. This is new territory for me.

Too high a price

I've decided to risk the loony bin. I need help desperately, and the only way to convince them how dire it is, is to tell them how dire it is.

I don't want to die. In fact, I want to live very much. There's so much in this world that I love. I don't want to lose any of it. That's why I'm going to talk to my shrink on Wednesday. I'm going to be upfront and honest about these feelings. Actually go to them instead of waiting for them to ask and then dance around the question out of fear. I'm going to go to them because I know deep down that if I don't get help soon, I won't be around much longer. And I very much want to be around. I've talked to hubby. He wants me to ask for help, too.

This change that occurred the other night in my thinking is so elusive. I can barely explain it to myself, let alone anyone else. The closest I can come is this: I want to live. But if the price of living is all this mental pain, then the price is too high. I've gotten nothing but empty promises for 16 years, the pain for 18 years. If someone can't help me, can't convince me that in 50 years I won't be exactly the same, then enough is enough. I'm done.

That's why I'm telling my shrink. I don't want to get to that point where I'm out of options. I already feel like I'm speeding there crazy fast. And this time, out of options is for real.

Will I risk the loony bin?

I'm scared. Scared of my life actually ending, although I know that's the survival instinct. Scared of the end hurting. Scared that if I'm honest with my shrink on Wednesday that he'll have me hospitalized. I'm scared of being in that place. I've been there once before and it wasn't nice.

Do I really want to say anything that will risk my freedom? I could actually end up on 1 on 1 in there. And I thought I had no privacy before. Also, there's no therapy in that place. Only locked doors and watching eyes. What's to change my mind about everything while I'm in there? And if I don't change my mind, how long will they hold me?

I wouldn't be able to see my shrink, therapist, or doctor. The look on hubby's face when he visits me in that place makes me want to cry for doing that to him. It breaks my heart. Do I want to do that to him again?

If I get thrown in there, I've already decided I would want everyone to be told, including hubby, that it's to get my meds adjusted.

The Whole World and no privacy anywhere

I'm feeling very sad and angry. Why did this happen to me? Why couldn't I be happy and normal? Why was I singled out for a life of misery?

I went out to the lake about an hour ago, about midnight or so. I was going to cut my arm while I listened to the sounds of the water lapping against the dock. Unfortunately, there's only 1 light pole out there (which is nowhere near the dock) and the moon is just a sliver, so it was pitch black and I couldn't see a thing.

So I drove around for at least an hour looking for somewhere that's lit but private so I could cut. I can't do it here at home - no privacy. The only place that I could find was too close to a parking lot where there were some police.

I could just see it... Officer: "What were you planning on doing with these utility blades?" Me: "Cut my arm" Officer: "We're going to have to take you in to be evaluated" And just like that, off to the hospital! Great! :-(

Personal Truth

Last night I finally admitted something to myself: I don't care if I die. I know that's been rolling around in my head for several days now, since it was first pointed out to me. But something's changed about what that idea means to me. I don't know if I can even put it into words.

When I was first asked if I would care if something happened to me, I said no. But my answer was cavalier. I meant it, but it wasn't coming from the core of my being. I've thought a lot about that conversation since then. And I've really taken a look inside myself. Last night I realized that now it really is coming from the core of my being.

It's weird. The struggle inside is gone. I'm calm. I would still rate very high on the depression scale that I do for CBT, but the inner turmoil is gone. Once I accepted, truly accepted, that knowledge last night, I felt this peace descend over me. I've never felt anything like it.

My birthday is on Friday and the pagan gathering/party that I've been looking forward to since January is on the 13th. I don't want to miss either of those things. So I'm going to keep quiet for a while. Let this new level of understanding soak in.

In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the things I love. Being at the lake, listening to the birds and my fountain, watching the wind blow the trees. I'll spend time with hubby and show him how much I love him. I'll cuddle with my sweet cat. Watch a sunset, eat some chocolate, listen to music.

Even though I don't even have anything in mind with regards to my future, when I wrote that last paragraph I felt like I was listing the things I'll be saying goodbye to. I got a little sad. I guess that shows how much my thoughts have changed. It's real to me now. The illusions are all gone.

At the lake

I had to get out of the house today. My plan was to head to the mall, or maybe to the bookstore to read for a while. You can just settle in a big overstuffed chair and read a whole book without having to pay for it. For me, who's in big trouble for the finances damage, that's ideal. A bonus is that I can escape my life for a while. So those were my plans. I was all set to go. All I had with me were my keys, driver's license, and cell phone. No money, either paper or plastic.

I never made it to the mall or bookstore. I was feeling really bad so I decided to go to the lake for a while first. The lake soothes me. Once I got there I realized I wouldn't want to go to my dock because of all the rain. The roads would be muddy. I settled for the boat dock. No mud to get to that one. I sat on the dock for a while, then people started to come with boats. I watched them, wishing I could go for a ride. I love being in a boat on the water, and I never get the opportunity.

I started hoping that one of them would ask if I wanted a ride. If one of them had, I'd have said yes. Most of them talked to me, but it was all just small talk. Shortly before I left there was one guy who I thought might ask, but he had a boat problem. So I gave up and left. A boat ride would have been nice, though.

Smoking and Passive Suicide

Hubby is getting very impatient. He's adamant about quitting smoking. And he says he can't quit unless I do, too. He's pressuring me a lot. I do want him to quit. Part of me wants to quit, too. But I'm also very scared.

The last time I quit I went into a tailspin and dropped into a major depression that lasted months. At the time my doctor said quitting had caused the depression because of the chemical changes in my brain and that if I tried to quit again, most likely I'd crash again. I was going to quit in January, but I was depressed and unstable and he advised waiting to quit until I got stabilized. So that I could handle the withdrawl better.

Do I sound fucking stabilized to you?? I'm so UN-fucking-stabilized I don't know what's going on from one hour to the next! Half the time I'm flirting with disaster and loving every minute of it, the other half I'm wishing and hoping for the disaster to hit so the pain will stop.

So let's see if I've got this straight... I'm extremely unstable and rapidly cycling, home life is chaotic, serious financial problems, let's not forget my white count, and a strained relationship with hubby that's now even more strained because of him wanting me to quit smoking. What, did he think I wanted life to be more of a challenge?? As if it weren't hard enough already.

I don't know what to do. I want to ask my shrink, but I don't see him until the 11th, I think. I could ask my therapist, but I don't think she'll understand. I don't think she believed what my doctor said when I was going to quit last time. I think she, like hubby, thought I was using that as an excuse to keep smoking. And I'll admit, I was. But that didn't mean I didn't believe it was the truth. I wasn't ready to quit and I didn't want to face a depression for trying to quit.

Honestly, the only reason I want to quit is they're so damn expensive. I don't care about the health reasons for quitting. What do they say, every one you smoke takes time off your life? Ok. Works for me. And quitting adds that time back? I don't know about that . You see, that plays into the whole prolonging the agony and misery that is my life. That's a bad thing.

I don't know how to deal with the huge amount of guilt and pressure that hubby's dumping on me. He's been dumping it for a while, but he's been ramping up the amount lately. I want to run away. There's no way to relieve the pressure that won't get me into trouble somehow. I feel trapped. Not a good place for me to be.

Would I be missed?

I think if anything were to happen to me people wouldn't really be too upset. Oh, everyone would act like they were upset, because that's what society calls for, but secretly they'd be relieved. They wouldn't have to deal with me anymore. I'm a miserable person to be around. Don't they think I know that? Even I don't want to be around me! I hate myself so much.

Does anyone see how much pain I'm in? Can anyone hear me crying out for help?

Bad neighborhood

My head is a bad neighborhood to be in.

I heard that on tv tonight. I thought it very fitting.

Worthless and alone

I wanted to call my therapist today. I needed to hear her voice, listen to her rationality, but was too afraid to. I'm in a very bad place today. Somehow I can't account for $700.00 and hubby is pissed. I don't know where it went. I don't even remember spending it.

I'm worthless. I can't do anything right. I've screwed up the finances majorly and I haven't cleaned the house. I don't want to do anything but lay down and stop. I'm so tired.

The urge to cut is really strong right now. If I hurt on the outside, it will distract me from the immense pain on the inside. At least for a little while. At this point I'll take whatever I can get.

I want to reach out. Ask for help. But there's no one to go to anymore. I've driven everyone away. Even hubby is sick of me and my crap. The only reason he's still hanging around is the kind of man he is. Yes, he loves me, but love only goes so far. You can love someone and not be able to stand being around them. But marriage is forever for him. You take the bad with the good. But if he'd known what he was signing up for all those years ago, he would have run so fast as far away from me as he could. I don't blame him. I would too.

The Invisible Line

Everyone is so sick and tired of dealing with me. Why don't I ever learn?? When I was 16 I almost lost my best friend because she was tired of all my crap. The only way I kept the friendship was to learn very quickly not to lean on people. You can use them up in a heartbeat. Ever since then I've tried very hard not to use people up.

Sometimes I come across someone who says they want to help, so I let them in a little. They say to come to them if I need them. I don't at first, then when they continue to say it's ok to come to them, I lean on them a little more. I start to feel like I can count on them to be there when I need them.

Then everything changes.

There must be a line. A line between how much leaning is ok and what's way too much. It must be a very fine line because I can't see it. And no one will tell me where it is! I always seem to cross it, though. Then everyone starts backing away, distancing themselves from me. Acting more irritated and abrupt, as if tired of me. I never know that I've crossed that line until it's too late. Then I don't know what to do.

I'm a stupid person who can't learn from the past. I've done this so many times, you'd think I'd know by now. But not me. No. Why do I keep doing this? Why can't I learn where that stupid line is?

Weary

I'm beginning to think the bipolar may win in the end. Right now it's stronger than I am. And it certainly has more endurance and stamina than I have. This past month has proven that. I'm so tired of the fight. The question is, do I have enough left in me to try to turn this episode around? Honestly, I don't know. Tonight my answer is no. But tomorrow I may feel differently. There's just no predicting it anymore.

I'm not actively suicidal. But if something were to happen to me, I wouldn't mind. You know how in movies there'd be a person dying of something and the doctors would say if only they had to will to fight, to live. Well, if I were that patient, I wouldn't have the will.

I'm close to giving up. Maybe that's where the frantic panicky feelings have been coming from. From my stupid instinct of survival. Maybe inside I'm screaming for help. I don't know. But what I do know, however, is that if that help is only temporary and just prolongs the agony, maybe I don't want it. That's only false hope. And that's the kind of hope you don't want. It just sets you up for more pain now and later on down the road.

My shrink sees this. He knows that I'm close. Closer than ever before to ending it. I think he thinks that if somebody doesn't help me for real, and soon, that I'll die, whether it be by my hand or something else. I've been offered the illusion of help for 16 years. I don't want any more illusions. If it's not real, then I don't want it. He sees all this. He knows. I think maybe he can help, but the only problem is that it's 2-3 weeks between sessions with him. That's a very long time.

What in the hell was I thinking?

I'm mortified. Ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated. What the hell was I thinking these past couple of days? It was like I was a whole other person. I'm lucky I wasn't raped or killed in a high speed car accident. My judgement was totally gone. I know that if any one of my mental health care team had witnessed me at the worst, I would have been hospitalized for my own safety. Not for suicidal thoughts, but to protect me from my own judgement. To stop me from ruining my life. I came so very close to ruining my life.

I feel so bad. I want to cry and I want to cut. I want to cut very very badly. I want a lot of cuts and I want to see the blood and feel the sting of the blade. God, the urge to cut is so bad I'm shaking.

I talked to one of the nurses today. Told her about this latest swing. She talked to my doctor and he's seeing me tomorrow.

Bliss in the heavens

I wanna dance! Turn up the bass and blast the music! And I wanna have sex. I'm so horny!! Unfortunately hubby's asleep. It really sucks. I still have just enough of a shred of conscience that I won't go looking for someone to screw. I can't do that to hubby. But if I weren't married, I guarantee you I'd have already been out there sleeping with tons of guys. I know what you're thinking. Slut. Nope. I just want to have fun and enjoy life right now. Life is glorious! Why not indulge in its many pleasures? My inhibitions are almost completely gone. It's like I get to be drunk without the nasty taste and without the hangover the next day, lol.

It's after 1am and I'm still totally revved. I'm thinking about going to Wal-Mart and getting some new clothes. I'm in the mood for something very low cut. I have a top that's really low cut, but I don't especially like the way it fits the rest of me. But I'll wear it tomorrow if I don't go shopping tonight. Or I could wear my brown halter top and black mini skirt. Hmmm... the only problem with that outfit is the halter isn't low cut. No cleavage shows. Cleavage is what I'm aiming for. Of course, I could wear the low cut top and just put on my little tan wrap. That would hide the rest of the fit that I don't like. The top is black and I could pair it up with the black mini skirt. Add black heels and voila! Sexy outfit. That sounds like a plan to me. And since it's supposed to be pretty chilly tomorrow, the wrap would work nicely.

I talked to my therapist today (not to be confused with my shrink). I did not, however, call the nurses at the med clinic. We're gonna see if I settle down on my own. But just between you and me, I'm fine. I'm happier than I've been in a long time. And since I'm plagued with such severe depression most of the time, I think I deserve some joy and fun, don't you?

While we were talking I was laughing a lot and I could hear the smile in her voice. I started thinking back and every time I've been like this everyone around me was also smiling and laughing. My euphoria is infectious. Everyone loves to be around me when I'm like this. Well who wouldn't be? ;-)

The Episode that wouldn't end

Sounds like a 1950's B horror movie, doesn't it? Well, I guess it kinda is. Although, what played on my screen would never have been on the silver screen back then. I got hit with a major manic swing today. I was in an electronics store and this guy turned the bass up really loud on some speakers. Normally that would irritate me to no end and I'd be thinking about how rude he was. Not today.

I had just a flash of the irritation, then I heard the music. It was the kind they play at raves. That was all it took. I wanted to start dancing right there in the store. Poor hubby. He walked into that store with a sober wife, walked out with a drunk one who wanted to party.

I really didn't want to go home. I went so far as to tell hubby that if he didn't go home I'd flash him right there in the truck. I thought he'd declined the offer, but when we passed the street we live on I was thrilled. And yes, I flashed him, lol. That's so very unlike me. All I wanted to do was for him to find a place to pull over so we could have sex. I didn't really even care if it was secluded or not. The thought of people seeing us have sex actually fueled my passion and mania.

Eventually we went home, and I started to come down from the high. I can't believe I acted like that. But there's still tendrils of today's swing. I'm still feeling very sexual. And I still feel like I want to run away.

It's probably not a good thing that I won't be seeing my doc for 5 weeks since he's out of town. Before he left he lowered my lithium due to side effects. That was only last Thursday. 4 days ago. And I've already had a breakthrough of off the chart mania. I know I've been mixed for a month now, but I'll tell you... the way I was today, I haven't been that high since the mania first hit. That one was so severe I'm lucky I wasn't hospitalized. Since then, it's been low to medium level intensity. Until today, that is. And I can feel it just beneath the surface, like a cat, coiled, waiting to strike. I gotta tell you. It felt awesome. Especially compared with how I've been feeling this past week or so.

I know I should call my clinic in the morning even though my doc is out of town, but I'm not sure I want to. Today felt really great. I know, I know. The problem is, it won't stay that way. The spending will go out of control, the thoughts won't slow down - only go faster, the sleep will disappear - so will the eating, and I won't be able to slow down at all. The switch will get stuck in overdrive. So although this is the fun part, I know it doesn't last. And I really hate the other parts. I guess I'll call them and let them know. The funny thing is, I'm 100% compliant with my meds. I don't know what they'll be able to do.

Just on a side note: tomorrow I'm buying 2 tickets to the Beltane Bash. Hubby and I are going, even though he's Christian and it's a pagan party. I'm the pagan one in this household. :-) I'm very excited because I thought the tickets were all gone, but I found out tonight that there's still a few left! I'm getting them first thing in the morning! Now I just have to figure out what to wear.

The Brewing Storm

You know how tornadoes can be really strong then start to slow down and weaken, only to have it build in intensity and strength again? Well that's this mixed episode I'm in. The intensity and strength are building again. When will this mixed episode end?? Every time I think it's over, a day or two later I'm in the throes of it once again. I'm beginning to think it won't ever let me go.

It's my fault. I'm the one who put me in this maelstrom of emotions. My doctor warned me that if I increased the dosage of my antidepressant this could happen. He said if it did happen, the lithium may not be able to pull me back. Well, it looks like he was right after all. Because the lithium definitely hasn't pulled me back.

The doctor has had to lower my lithium because I'm shaking like an addict who's gone too long without her fix. Lowering the dose worries me a lot. If it can't pull me back at my current dose, how on earth can it on a lower one? Answer: it can't.

It's gotten really bad. The sea of emotions is so choppy that I can't identify any of them unless they're so strong they're screaming at me. And my mind is gone. I can't remember anything. I have to read things over and over like 10 times each, sometimes having to repeat the process 3 or 4 times just to have a hope of retaining what I've read. If I just read it once, it's like I never read it. It's gone as soon as I'm done reading the words. That makes me so mad!

This disease is slowly taking me apart piece by piece. Soon there'll be nothing left of me. I'm scared.

The Therapist's Anthem

There's a song by one of my favorite artists, Donny Osmond, that is perfect for a therapist. It's called "Whenever You're In Trouble" off his album What I Meant To Say. He wrote the song for his children, but I think it works for therapists, too. Every time I hear the song, I can hear my shrink saying these words to me. Let me know what you think. Here's the lyrics. Copyright Donny Osmond.

Whenever You're In Trouble
By Donny Osmond ©

Tell me from the heart,
In your eyes I see the pain,
It's tearing you apart,
Let me take it all away,
You know someone believes in you,
When they love you no matter what you do,
You know you are home
And you're not alone,
When you hear me say...

(Chorus)
Whenever you're in trouble,
Whenever you may need me,
I will fight for you,
I will help you through,
Whenever life's deceiving,
I'll give you new meaning,
No matter where you are,
You're always in my heart,
Whenever you're in trouble I will be right here...

Sometimes you're gonna find,
Nothing goes the way you planned,
But whatever's on your mind,
I will try to understand,
You know someone is by your side,
When they help you through the darkest night,
You know you are home,
And you're not alone,
When you hear me say...

(Chorus)

Now's the time
To share what you're feeling inside,
No matter how long it takes,
No matter how many mistakes!

Oh, now's the time
To reach and you will find,
That whenever you need me to care,
I'll always be there

(Chorus)

Whenever you're in trouble I will be right here.