Petrified

Some mornings, too many mornings, I wake up warm and cozy with my fleece sheets pulled up to my chin. And I feel petrified - emotionally and physically. I feel I can't possibly get myself out of bed for yet another day. My body feels made of stone.The simple acts of shower, make-up, hair, and finding something to wear seem like too much. I curl into a ball thinking about another day behind a computer, wearing headphones to help limit the noise that sets off my anxiety, forcing myself to interact with people for 8 hours, trying not to be irritated by everything around me. The argument with myself begins. Of course I can do this. I can get out of my bed and get the day going. I have a good life. Friends who care, people who love me, a good paying job for a great family friendly company. And yet moving - getting out of my bed - takes so much out of me I wonder what I'll have left for the rest of the day. If it's a good day, there's no pain anywhere. My joints don't hurt. My shoulder doesn't ache. If it's a really good day, once I get myself moving the day doesn't take quite as much energy and I can have a "normal" day.

I suffer from bipolar disorder. For me, the manias are rare but do happen. The depression is frequent. I've tried most medications and had various issues with the majority of them. I can't "snap out of it", as much as I'd like to do just that. I'd love to wake up and say, "Today I won't be depressed or anxious. Today I won't be so tired and achy that a day at work takes everything out of me." In fact I do wake up and say those things. But sometimes it's really not about "mind over matter".

This is my life. Some people can't handle it: the ups and downs and never being quite sure where I'll be at next, the overreactions, the irritability. I can't say I blame them. For those who have managed to stick around, I say thank you. It is because of you I'm still here and making it through another day.

6/2/14 Update:
Turns out I'm not bipolar. I suffer from depression. Although apparently note severe enough for my insurance to pay 50% of my medical bills. It's considered mild, so they pay 30%. Whatever, right? Anyhow, the last two psychiatrists decided I have some anxiety and depression, at times impulse control, but not bipolar disorder. I'm also what's called a Highly Sensitive Person. It explains a lot, actually. But so far knowing that isn't making the fact that I've spent most of the last two days hiding in my room wishing the world would just BE QUIET any easier to deal with. At least now I know I'm not crazy or just a bitch...

Being Bipolar Sucks Big Hairy Balls

I think the title pretty much sums up how I feel about being affected by this disorder. Bipolar, or manic-depressive, disorder for me is like living life on a constant roller coaster. I love roller coasters, don't get me wrong, but never being able to get off the ride would seriously diminish my enjoyment!

Sometimes I go through phases where I think the diagnosis was wrong. What I really have is severe social anxiety and depression. This is easy to believe for awhile because my depressive episodes have been much more frequent and severe than my manic ones. It gives me an excuse to insist that I can take an anti-depressant alone.

Welcome to the Jungle: Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Bipolar but Were Too Freaked Out to Ask is a great book, a fairly easy read, for those suffering and for their loved ones. One of the things the the author talks about is our tendency to believe we aren't bipolar and then go off meds. 

Last week was a low point in my life, although I didn't think so at the time. I was energetic and ready to take on new things and meet new people. I wasn't sleeping.  Classic symptom, right? On my own and out-of-town, I drank too much and quickly spiraled out of control.  If this blog were anonymous, I'd share more details. Because I honestly believe that sharing details can help others who have also suffered.   But this blog isn't anonymous and there are those who would use it against me in a variety of ways, and it could also hurt others. So we'll have to suffice it to say that the week ended with me being embarrassed and ashamed and realizing that along with being bipolar I suffer from an addiction that I can't control on my own right now.  I realized that I have no clue how to set boundaries or have healthy relationships. I also managed to hurt someone very deeply and not for the first time. I also hurt a new friend and I'm sorry she had to see that very unattractive side of me. 

So from here I'm moving forward and making some changes. Establishing bottom lines in relation to addiction. Attending meetings, seeing my counselor, going back to my psychiatrist. Simplifying my life a bit and saying "goodbye" to some and "I hope you'll be around when I'm healthy but I don't expect you to wait for that" to others. Many of the relationships I have in my life right now are unhealthy and lack boundaries. There are those in my life I love but I know I can't be with - maybe just temporarily or maybe more permanently. I need to distinguish between love, dependency and addiction to people.

There's so little about me that I like right now. I need to fix that so I can truly love and like others. Some of my readers know I've said similar things in the past but didn't actually make the changes. I've started the changes already, and it's so very hard to stay strong and do what I know in my heart and in my head are the right steps even though they may cause some even more pain in the short term. I hope that my friends will help hold me accountable. Because one of my major problems is that I surround myself with people who help justify my poor decisions and actions.  Wanna help be my accountability partners? Give me your contact information and I'll let you know how you can help.  Let me know why you want to help.

Loving Someone with Bipolar Disorder: Understanding & Helping Your Partner, another book I found very helpful. This is one I think needs to be revisited every few years. It helps identify triggers.

Be sure to check out Band Back Together for more resources and to read the stories of others (or share your own story).

Thank you to the many of you who have offered me positive comments and support!

Taking Off the Muzzle

This post may ramble, be boring, and just plain not make sense. But I've told myself I will write something and post it - no matter how many self doubts creep in. I won't reread it for two days wondering if it's good enough or if I've offended someone.

I was excited to start writing again after many years of muzzling that part of myself.  I thought I had some good ideas.  I read several blogs and thought, "I can do this. I know I can."  And I wrote a handful of posts. And then nothing.

Part of the problem is that I originally intended this to be an anonymous blog - some place I could finally write out my pain, my frustration, my sadness, my joys, my thoughts without being judged and worrying about putting the people I know on the defensive.  But then I shared it with a few close friends, and a few more friends, and now I'm afraid to write.  I think that before I can be the creative writer I wish to be, I need to get out everything I've been holding in for so long.

I am not a happy-go-lucky, optimistic, look-on-the-bright-side kind of person.  I've been condemned for that repeatedly.  While I do try not to always be the pessimistic bitch that I can be, I don't hesitate to share the bad day stories along with the great day stories.    I don't want my friends to only ever tell me the good in their lives - because that's not reality. Sometimes life sucks and sometimes we need to let it out!

What will you find out about me if you continue reading my blog in the future?  I suffer from depression and often go to bed praying I won't wake up in the morning. I hate being a parent but love my children. I'm certain that people don't think of me often but when they do it's negative.  I'm bored easily. I love to dance but am not good at playing.  I need time to myself like a fish needs water - I start to slowly (or not so slowly) go crazy if I haven't had quiet alone time.  My social anxiety often results in people thinking I'm snobbish or overly quiet. Or they think I'm a drunk who never shuts up - because I tend to drink too much in an effort to overcome said social anxiety. I enjoy being wanted but feel suffocated when needed.  My noise sensitivity could cause sharp pointy objects to fly through my office at some point soon and often results in me snapping at my kids.  I'm almost never actually "sick" by most people's definition when I call in sick - I've usually crashed into a wall of fatigue and my body feels so heavy that rolling over in bed is too much effort and my legs ache as if I've walked miles and miles.  I will do anything I can to help you and be there for you, even if we don't like each other. I love to read and my ideal vacation is simply sitting in a tropical place near a pool or ocean reading a book. You will see all of these things in my posts. They won't always be happy or funny.  They won't be full of wonderful.  They'll just be me.  So if you've come here from my Facebook page and don't appreciate the things I post there, then you most definitely don't want to read what I'll write here and absolutely you must stay away from following me on Twitter!  Twitter is where I filter myself the least.  But if you want to read more about how the Real Housewives of Placer County are driving me batty, or how I think maybe I'm becoming one of them, or what my kids did that made my head spin around, or my latest Burlesque experience, or the random bizarre thoughts that went through my mind today, or how hurt I am by something, or one of a bazillion stories that show what a  shitty parent I am - then please come back and read and comment.

Imagine this 20-some years later--that would be me some days.