Surprised by My Swearing – Bipolar Anger

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Maya, a friend at university whuwto has been with me since I started at this school, has been shocked by the change in my… language. She’s never heard me swear. She thinks its funny. I suppose it is. I guess I don’t look like a swearer.

I was talking to her on the phone, and we decided I should call my professor and explain to him what is going on with my group in one of my classes. Things are not going well. I don’t play well in groups. I’m really trying. I am, but they’re children and act like they know everything. I’m disrespected. I’m reacting badly to that. Things have gone really wrong. I needed to do something to get things on track. I got excited that I was taking action and said, “I’ll go put my teeth in and call him right now.” She cracked up. She’d forgotten I wear dentures. Ha ha!

I guess I’m something of a surprise.

When I saw her at school the next day, she recounted our conversation. She laughed and laughed.

I’m glad.

Today I’m going to get my new dentures. My old ones have been falling out of my mouth while I’m talking. Seriously. They do. I don’t wear them often. I save wearing them for school. Still, they’ve come out. I’ve been holding my uppers up with my tongue. Maya thinks that’s hysterical too. It kind of is. It has to be funny. It would be too tragic if it weren’t.

God, I hope they fit. I don’t need more stress. It might not be so funny this time. No, it definitely wouldn’t be funny this time.

Anxiety Storm

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They always ask me if I’m depressed.

I’ve got Bipolar Type 1 and I cycle super rapidly, what do you think?

No, really, are you depressed?

Let me tell you the truth, I hope you hear me say it this one time because I’ve had enough.

Go ahead.

My anxiety, my stress – if that’s what you need to call it – is at 7 of 10. 10 is call the morgue. My adrenaline has been full on since I can first remember. Fight or flight…. or both.

Yes, that fight or flight reflex can be triggered.

Listen to me. All the time. It’s all the time. Stop asking me if I’m depressed because the answer will always be yes. What you should be concerned about is my anxiety. I’m more likely to have the top of my head exploded from that than I am from depression.

You know, you’d be surprised at how often that’s the case.

Shit.

SILENCE vs Mental Illness

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Can Silence Improve Mental Health?

broken consol tv

I have been terrified that if I have a moment when my brain is not distracted, I will become consumed by all that is wrong with me. To that end, I have religiously employed as many ways to stay distracted as I possibly can.

I have my television on all the time. Even when I am engaged in complicated readings for my college classes, I’m able to look up and connect to my TV. I’ve made it easier to do this by doing my school work on two TV-trays that I have my laptop and notebooks on in front of my sofa and my TV. I eat my meals there too.

When I walk my dog, I run my workout app on my phone and listen to podcasts or audiobooks via earphone.

Driving in my car, I do the same things as I do when I’m walking, minus the earphones.

When I’m doing housework, I ask Alexa to play classical or country music or songs from artists like Pink, Katy Perry, Lindsey Stirling, Bond, and others.

When I’m doing my “best” to write the all-important papers, short stories, and essays for school, I have the TV on, and I’m parked in front of it… on my semi-comfortable sofa, using my TV trays… I’m keeping my mind full of junk and nonsense.

I’m Never Really Alone

My complete immersion into the labyrinth of digital media plays with far too many triggers that activate my mental illnesses. Bipolar (type 1) fires up igniting anxiety, depression, and mania. As deadlines loom closer and closer anxiety paralyzes my higher brain functions, and I watch TV, unable to focus. The Ritalin I take for ADHD seems ineffectual, even impotent. I don’t know why I still take it… for hope, I suppose.

Today I thought positive, even inspiring thoughts about myself and my future, for a few minutes. I smiled, and my anxiety began to be replaced by hope.

I turned off my TV. I sat in silence. My mind embraced the stimulation that the quite brought. I began to think.

I was thinking, in silence, and I loved it!

I recalled my productive manic times, and I realized I was being touched by the power those times brought.

I Can Think In Silence

I was thinking for myself – and the terrifying anxiety that had been stabbing me for days, as I struggled to find classes to take at the last minute subsided. I had been ready to give back my financial aid and get a job making minimum wage while waiting for my mind to explode.

But then, I came upon the silence, and it was beautiful, and I felt free. I felt astonishingly free.

I will nurture the silence and learn to be its companion. It will take time. I know this. Silence has broken through my anxiety when pills and talking could not.

I know I am not healed and that I will still suffer from all the horrors that my mental illnesses bring, but I have hope. I have learned that sometimes I can be surprised by the excitement and the inspiration that something small and unexpected can bring.

I have learned something new, and I am grateful for it.

Silence – my new obsession… except when I forget about it.


I’d like to invite you to comment on my ideas in this post in the comments section or email me directly. I’ve enjoyed hearing from some of you. Thank you for visiting my blog. I’m glad you dropped by.

Robin

Anxiety – Relax My Ass

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School starts in two days. Yesterday I had my first adrenaline mainlining anxiety day of the school year. 

I tried to be strong and relax, but I had to take half a chill pill early in the day. It didn’t help. I tried not to take the other half because I only get 10 a month. I got into bed and my anxiety ramped up higher. I had to take the other half. 

Eventually, I slept.

I’m once again forced to try all the methods to reduce anxiety that I have learned… but deep down I don’t believe any of them will help, they never have.

I’m tired of being a victim of my own brain. So tired.

EEG Check In

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I’m finished with the EEG now. Someone forgot to tell me they would be wanting me to go to sleep when I got there so I got myself all woke up so I wouldn’t fall asleep…  I was only able to doze off a few times. The tech said she thought they got enough information. I hope so. Now I wait.

Brain Scan

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brain This morning I’m going to the hospital for a brain scan. It’s for the facial tic I’ve been having forever and because I’ve been falling asleep suddenly and for no apparent reason. I did a sleep study last year and it came out normal so it isn’t sleep apnea. Between this stuff and my Bipolar, ADHD, PTSD, FM, anxiety, RA, OA, chronic pain and all that malarkey I can tell you with all honesty… I’m a bit MORE anxious than normal. I’ve been trying to get all the mental stuff undercontrol by staying on my meds, going to counseling, learning mindfullness and trying to learn to meditate, but it’s been slow going. Oh, and I’m too heavy for my knees. One has been replaced twice and the other one collapses without warning. I’m pretty sure that’s because of the weight and lack of muscle. I’ve been walking my dog Bailey all summer for 1-2 miles all summer 3-4 times a week and I’ve gained weight. Maybe it’s muscle, maybe not, but it’s more weight.

So I’m having my brain scanned. They have me coming in sleep deprived. That’s fun.

Well, I guess I should get ready to go. Wish me luck. May the force be with us all. ;0)

Checking-In

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pargola eclipse

Under my pergola during the eclipse, 2017.

I didn’t realize today was Sunday until my dear mother texted me and reminded me that the Seahawks were playing. Sunday. How did we get from the horrors of Thursday, past the delightful day hiking on Mt. Rainier on Friday… to Sunday?

(Thursday I spent 4 hours in the Denturist’s chair. It was terrible. The worst was when he oozed goo down my throat and didn’t know it. I hurled and hurled until up came a wad of latex looking stuff. Then, another large piece… then, a third. The teaching Professor said it sounded like I was being given the heimlich. I was. Only I was giving it to myself. It was a nightmare. I haven’t been able to sleep because I keep feeling the goo going down my throat and sitting just beyond the reach of my fingers… I keep eating to try to make the feeling go away. It isn’t working.)

Now Sunday is ending. I got up early and walked my dog before the fall rains started. Literally, today was the first rain in days and days. It has ushered in the fall. The temperature has lowered in one week and the air is crisp.

I enjoy the cool clean air, but I will miss the sun. The sun helped me fight my depression. I’m hoping to spend time outside during the cloudy months under my covered pergola nestled in a warm coat.

Right now, I’m feeling sad, as though I’ve wasted my day. I spent quite a lot of time getting to know how to use Dish and Alexa. Dish doesn’t display the time like the Xfinity box did so I had no idea how long I’d been fussing around. I’ll need to get a little digital clock.

I’m feeling sad, fearful and anxious. One and a half weeks and my classes at the University of Washington will resume. I can’t control my emotions regarding it.

At this moment, Alexa is playing me some relaxing classical music. I’m thankful for that.

The Aftermath of Latuda & Despair

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solar flareThe Latuda that was destroying me is gone now, though it has left a lasting mark that lives on within me. It no longer provides mood stabilization for my overloaded brain. The good that it may have done is far outweighed by the damage that it has left behind. Often, I cannot speak for long before I lose the ability to be understood. My speech becomes silenced and my face jerks and spasms as though in pain. Large muscle groups jerk and move without my involvement. It all devastates me. I feel locked inside my body, my brain unable to freely communicate even with those who are closest to me.

I’ve recently come out of a period of not feeling anything but anxiety. My actions indicated that I was depressed, but I didn’t exactly feel depressed. Recently, that has changed.

Last week I crashed. I felt the old familiar feelings and thought things that hadn’t consumed me for some time. I looked at all my pills (I have many) and considered how easy it would be to stop. Just to stop.

But, I didn’t touch them. I called my children and I reached out for help. My girls both came to me and loved me… they helped put away those feelings of purposelessness and thoughts that I have no reason to live.

Why have I not taken all my pills? I have no purpose, no reason to burden those around me. You see, I want to have a purpose. I want my life to matter. While I currently feel I have nothing to offer the world… I think, if I don’t give in to the depression that loves me without reservation, that it might be possible to find that singular purpose that is meant for me.

I suffer from Bipolar Disorder Type 1 with rapid cycling and mixed states. Perhaps I am able to find this ever so small spark of desire to find my purpose because in my manic delusional state sometimes I have delusions of grandeur. Who knows, maybe my periodic delusions will give me my missing purpose. I hope so.

I need a reason to carry on. For now, the love of those who care for me is what I am holding on to. I have to wonder… how long it will be before even that is not enough.

At this moment, I don’t want to die, but I am encompassed by a cloak of useless despair.

I desire purpose. I want inspiration. I resisting the urge to give in and bring this fight to an end. Intellectually, I want my end to be celebrated with the acknowledgement of a fulfillment of purpose and leave an honorable legacy that says my life meant something, that I lived with purpose and left a remarkable mark on my world.

I don’t want to be an unnumbered footmark in the annals of the world, but I can’t seem to master what my brain chemistry is doing to me.

Now, it’s time to start my two-hour ritual of preparing to sleep. Maybe I’ll get lucky and I’ll have a temporary respite and I’ll sleep an emotion free night.

Bipolar – Secrets

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secretsIf I were to describe depression using a color, I would say it is black. Red would fit nicely with the mania and perhaps green or yellow might be anxiety. It would be nice if things were distinct like that so that I could easily identify how I’m doing. It might even be nice for those who are part of my support system to see those colors so they can know how I’m doing. It would be easier than trying to explain how I am when I can barely breathe.

Speaking of people in my support system, sometimes there are thoughts or moods or things I’ve done or thought about doing that I am afraid to speak of, things I think are better left never spoken of.

I try not to think about those things or those thoughts. They bring with them pain and even humiliation.

I would not want my family to know parts of the person I was during some of my manic times. They are not aware of some of the more horrific behaviors that I experienced.

As much as I don’t want to revisit these horrible moments in my past I can’t help but wonder if they now contribute to the over state of anxiety that lives with me each moment of my day.

The tick I developed as a result of medication(s) I was taking seems nearly gone with one major exception: whenever I am in anyway anxious it comes back and I can hardly talk. It seems to those I’m talking to to be a violent case of stuttering, only I know it isn’t. I feel embarrassed when it overwhelms me. No matter how much I try to relax when it starts, the only way I can stop it is to remove myself from the situation or to stop talking. Imagine yourself working with your physical therapist and trying to explain how your therapy at home has been going and suddenly not being able to talk.

Is it possible that dealing with some of the long-buried moments of horror might enable me to experience less overall anxiety? In my current state, I must say “no” because to deal with those secret things terrifies me far too much. I hope that I can use the tools I’m learning to deal with these hidden anxieties. I hope I can use them by myself to find healing from my past. If I can’t do it myself, I hope one day to be able to deal with them working with someone who can help me walk through them.

Today, that’s what I’m choosing to believe: I can deal with them myself. Just because I’ve got a mental illness or three doesn’t mean I must air all my dirty laundry. Some of it I must learn to deal with on my own.

Some secrets… I choose to remain as secrets.

Bipolar – Latuda

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I usually check carefully over the side effects and warnings on my new medications. I’ve been taking Latuda long enough that I assumed that I’d do okay with it. But, I guess I didn’t do it because if I had, I’d have noticed right off that the source of my ticks and twitches was probably right in front of me.

From the Latuda.com website: Tardive dyskinesia (TD) is a serious and sometimes permanent side effect reported with LATUDA and similar medicines. Tell your doctor about any movements you cannot control in your face, tongue, or other body parts, as they may be signs of TD. TD may not go away, even if you stop taking LATUDA. TD may also start after you stop taking LATUDA.

I have Tardive Dyskinesia. It is sever and interrupts my communicating with others. It is especially a problem in my classes at the university. This morning I actually had to stop talking. I felt that I had to explain my difficulty because they were trying to listen to me and I couldn’t talk. It was maddening.

This condition may be permanent. I’m not taking it at all now. I stopped two days ago. I hope that as the drug passes out of my system the tic will subside. God I hope so. I’m trying to relax. I’ve noticed that when I get nervous it gets worse. Talk about motivation to learn to chill out.