Opioid Dependence and Mental Illness

Pile of pills

I’m not an addict. I’m not! I’m mentally ill. I have Bipolar Disorder. I also suffer from chronic pain in my lower back.

My primary care doctor (PC… PCD? Uhh… let’s go with MD) had been prescribing me oxycodone for the server and persistent (chronic) pain that I’ve had for years. After being active and doing something super strenuous like gardening for 15 minutes I think I’m dying. I’m exaggerating of course, but when I work as hard as Atlas does while holding up the world my eyes leak, I whimper and sit down. Sometimes I end up laying on the floor. The floor is such a very bad idea. If I straighten my legs my whimpering becomes desperate and I realize I’m crying. If I forget myself and straighten my legs I’m done. I can’t move. The pain paralyzes me.

I’m NOT an addict.

When I can think again, I try to find my phone. If I can’t find it right away I feel the panic rising and it triggers thoughts and emotions I thought I’d had under control.

This last time I thought I was managing my mania and depression (mixed state, rapid cycling) pretty well. I haven’t bought piles and piles of books on ducks or Oprah or how to be an astronaut. Honestly, I really haven’t. But please, don’t ask me what I’m thinking about. Also, I’ve been able to get out of bed AND wake-up in the morning and even go for walks. My depression skips through the dandelions with the mania comingling into a mixed state, which is always confusing.

I’m not an addict.

After many months of giving me a legal way to get my the Oxycodone I take for pain legally, and for free. The label on the bottle says I’m to take the little unassuming pills three times a day. They are 20 mg. Currently, I’ve convinced the assistant fellow at the pain clinic to reduce my Oxycodone to 20 mg twice a day.

I’m not an addict.

I’m mentally ill. I have Bipolar Disorder, ADHD, chronic pain, and other stuff.

I was referred to a pain chronic clinic… ah… chronic pain clinic, where my Oxycodone prescription was reissued. A five-minute verbal probe, that’s what it took for the doctor to determine whether or not I needed the narcotic. We didn’t talk about Bipolar Disorder or any potential interactions the Oxycodone might have with drugs that are meant to manage my wild emotions or tame my fantastic panic attacks. I’m not certain she has any record of my current medications. She asked questions, and I quickly tailored my answers to fit what I thought she was waiting to hear. She made a few notes on a paper as small as her palm. I wondered if she was actually making notes that she could refer to later. She thought for a few seconds and then wrote the prescription. I sighed in relief.

I’m not an addict.

A while later, like over a year or maybe two, I’m still taking the narcotic. The clinic has new owners and staff. They no longer asked me questions. Sometimes they required a urine test. Then, they stopped asking me anything at all. We spent my appointment chatting. I started asking if we could please try to figure out what was causing the pain and try to deal with it by correcting the problem. I wanted the pain to stop.

They didn’t listen. They wrote the prescription without hesitation.

I’m telling you, I’m not an addict.

My mental health drug dispenser began paying attention after I updated her about my drugs and included Oxycodone in the list. She stopped talking about whether or not my meds were working to stabilize my moods and started talking about “Black box” warnings.

She had my attention. I started to panic.

At the time I had over five medical people prescribing medications. They didn’t know what the other office prescribed me. They relied on me to tell them the truth. I didn’t have to tell anyone I was taking Oxycodone. That got me thinking.

I’m not an addict.

Later…

I’m still asking the medical folks to figure out the cause of my chronic lower back pain. I’m still not getting results. I’m getting way too much Oxycodone every bloody month.

Because I can, I’ve been researching my of collages of illnesses, disorders, and psychological malfunctions.

Ah ha! Black box warning. Do NOT take anti-anxiety medication (benzine’s) – death may result.

Oxycodone 20 mg

I recently saw Dr. T, my very superior knee surgeon. He saw the condition of my spine when he was looking at the x-rays of my hips. He was making certain that my persistent knee pain, post second replacement, wasn’t being caused by anything running amock in my hips. He was eliminating any possible cause of my knee pain before he even considering using surgery to further correct the inept effort Dr. B made the initial knee replacement. Dr. B successfully replaced my knee, but that’s where the project ended.

It sucked. My leg from the knee down, well, it kind of turned the wrong way.

Dr. T corrected the first replacement. He tried to minimize the damage his surgery could do while trying not to blow up my entire joint… okay, the joint that was already gone.

Dr. T showed me the x-rays he’d just had taken and explained where and why he left Dr. B’s “efforts,” while replacing the replacement. A month ago we tried a shot to relieve the pain and keep from having to have surgery again.

Nope. I’ve had no relief from the pain. In fact, my brain was overjoyed and thought that my knee was doing awesome. Holy cow! I should NOT have knelt down like that! Looks like surgery is probably what our next conversation will be about. I’ll need to be on pain medication again…. I intend to be off Oxycodine ASAP. I would really like to have some kind of painkiller to take after surgery – assuming I have it. Always be prepared! Sigh…

I’m not an addict.

After my constant complaining about my back pain that happens every time, I do regular human type activities involving the lower back. I’ve finally had x-rays of my back taken. Holy heck. Next stop is at a spine doctor.

The online personal information provided by my medical organization includes this: Opioid Dependence.

My chronic pain clinic instructs me to continue taking the Oxycodone. I haven’t been able to identify any specific relief from the pain in a long time. I have never felt any “fun” results from taking it. It has never made me feel sleepy.

I have found that taking Oxycodone at bedtime with the medication I take for Restless Legs Syndrome (RLS) helps me to get to sleep and not wake up in agony caused by the RLS.

Am I an addict?

“Taking opioids over a long period of time produces dependence, such that when people stop taking the drug, they have physical and psychological symptoms of withdrawal (such as muscle cramping, diarrhea, and anxiety). Dependence is not the same thing as addiction; although everyone who takes opioids for an extended period will become dependent, only a small percentage also experience the compulsive, continuing need for the drug that characterizes addiction.”*

I’m mentally ill. In my opinion taking any medication, especially one that alters my brain chemistry (opioids do this), should be thought about and discussed with other medical personnel who are also responsible for my continued living – and to live my best life.

Am I an addict?

No.

I have Opioid Dependence.

Dependence. I can live with that, but look, let’s get rid of that too. Okay?

{I have Bipolar Disorder. I’m a little manic now. I’m using it to write and post while I can. So, for now, I will post often because tomorrow, I may be depressed and unable to say what’s on my mind. I may not have anything on my mind.}

* https://ghr.nlm.nih.gov/condition/opioid-addiction

I R Niche You…

So yeah, I couldn’t think of what to call this episode of “Exploring the life and mind of the Great Un-Niche_Able Me. ”

Today’s post is all about what min brain did during the walk Bailey and I took today. My daughter asked me where it was all from and I said that it was just my brain, taking a walk with the dog.

map_nov27_2018edited_smaller

You think this is slow? I can go way slower. And, we may have gotten lost a few times.

I went to bed at 7 p.m. last night after falling sound asleep and breaking my neck in the recliner I inherited from my dad. It’s way too big for me. I’m about a foot from the floor and just cannot reach the lever to pull the chair together, but I manage because it was dad’s chair. Then I overslept because my brain thought it would be fun to turn itself on but not to do anything entertaining or useful.

I have ADHD. I have Bipolar Disorder. My brain is a place where clowns and squirrels are abundant, the skies are green, and I try to do everything, especially those things which are impossible, before 11 a.m., if I’m awake.

Bailey, my doggie, and I just got home from a walk. Less than five minutes later the rain started. Right after that, the mail lady arrived. We’d seen her halfway through our walk. She’s cool. Brings treats. Doggie bones by mail. Love it.

An indication that you’re not necessarily getting old, but that something is sure happening: you need to stop at the house halfway through your walk to go to the “you know what.” Reason? Two cups of coffee before setting off on the grand adventure which consisted of walking around my bit of South Tacoma. (What’s this? Fern Hill?)

I’ve been trying to decrease my minutes per mile. Walking with the doggie will always increase my time. Why? She just has to stop to doggie business repeatedly, and I mean business without a briefcase. Let me be specific in case you’re not from around here: she had to stop and have a bowel movement, she poopooed. (Was that too explicit?)

<How did I get all these stupid apps open?>

I have new Bluetooth earphones… buds… whatever. Problem: Saying more than “Hi” to a man who has trouble talking without shutting off or removing one ear… eh… bud. Say what!!?? Answer? Wave a lot and agree that the dog is very pretty. Sigh. Don’t stop. You could have stopped to talked… Want me to go back? Well, no, but next time…

Good news! Sweating from exercise and not from menopause (which I do NOT have) or the heater going mad.

Last year when I didn’t push myself walking I tore my right foot fascia. I guess it doesn’t matter which foot it is really. Oh well. There it is anyway.

Lordy. I think one of the fish just let one.

It is impressively difficult to take notes on my phone while letting doggie “break” (not sit at heel). On second thought maybe, I shouldn’t… nah. She likes it and spends my time laughing at the nonsense I’m poking at in my other app like a demented little old lady – which I definitely am NOT.

It’s so funny when Word can’t figure out what word I can’t spell so I have to depend on the Google voice feature to figure out what I can’t spell. I don’t feel too bad because Word doesn’t know how to spell it either.

These are a few of the things I struggled to take note of during our walk (all that stuff before this did too, but it seemed like too much):

That looks like spit on the sidewalk. Nope. It’s glass. Quick, evasive maneuver!

I shouldn’t have had all that coffee. (I didn’t know I was going to walk so far. You can’t hold this time against me.)

I remember the time the kids and I stopped and gave food to a homeless man who was sitting at the offramp at a local freeway. He graciously declined. Why? No teeth. Sigh. How am I supposed to teach the kidlets to be gracious? LOL

Oops! The front door just slammed. I thought I put a cat toy in it. Guess not.

I have happiness on my face. The sun was out all morning even after I didn’t get up on time. We ignored the forecast that said it was going to rain any minute and ignorantly (and slowly) headed out the door.

We seem to take forever to get ready because I have to decide what to listen to: always a painful and lengthy affair, and I have to remember how to put Bailey’s prong collar on. Yep, prong collar. I finally don’t have to deal with a dog who pulls anymore. (It’s too much to explain now. Just trust me on this one.)

Oh wow! Maks (the oldest male cat we have) is chittering at a squirrel or maybe a cat but probably not at a dog or a cat. Cross people and cars off too. So funny. They have examples of chittering cats on YouTube. Check it out.

What was next? (We’re still on what I was thinking during our walk.)

Okay, next is the word: distance. Dunno why that’s there. Maybe because we went about farther than we’ve gone before? We actually did!

Runtastic (the app I use to map and measure my walks) always summarizes my activity when I stop it. My phone (another app – Great Courses Plus) keeps talking while Runtastic tells me all about my walk. She takes forever. Honestly, I don’t care about my kilocalories. Winston Churchill’s who died? Blast!

Speaking of the Runtastic woman, she counts down to zero while I’m starting out on my walk. I have no idea why I added that to my list. Hmm…

And the last item on my ADHD walkabout list: small ears and Bluetooth. I’m getting new glasses. They will be children’s glasses. My sunglasses are children’s glasses – tiny head. I have around the ear Bluetooth headsets. I simply cannot keep the little buggers on. I’m going to tell the kids it’s because of my glasses, but you and I will both know that it’s because my ears, head, and eyes are all too small.

We made it home just in time to meet our mail lady at our door. She gave Bailey the ritual bone. She is devastated when Mary (mail lady) isn’t the one leaving the mail. I have to have a Milk Bone (small) ready for those days. Such a sad doggie!

Okay, time to shut the front door. I’ve cooled down and my tiny amount of sweat has dried. I’m freezing.

Now, ADHD and Bipolar Disorder, what to do about them? I was listening to a class on Winston Churchill during our walk. The professor said that Churchill was at his best when he was able to laser focus on a problem.

Laser focus. I wonder what that feels like when you actually WANT it to happen? So far I’ve experienced it mainly when I’m not medicated or super interested in what I’m doing / learning or am having a manic episode. The mania seems to help to slow the rapid fire of subjects somewhat. I would also say that the remaining subjects also feel like I’m more engaged in. I like it.

So should we treat the mania? First? Should we treat the ADHD? First or second? Chicken or egg? Seriously? Who came up with that stupid saying? Chicken or egg. How about duck or egg, opossum or roadkill, mini car or accident? Alexa or music from the ’40s? Something like those.

I will continue to seize my good days and to strive to do what I can to enable me to have more of them. I’ve applied to enter an intensive group training to teach me how to live successfully as a person who has ADHD. I guess that answers it. Since my Bipolar meds don’t seem to ever want to be well adjusted I’m going to guess that ADHD will be coming before the Bipolar egg.

Have a great day!

 

Un-niche-able – the Next Day

tday_across_honey_streetI have an announcement to make. I’m going to be 56 for a few more months…. or is it 55? Well anyway, I have ADHD and am a manic bipolar individual so let me think on it for a bit okay? Sigh. It’s late and I’m tired and the dog wants to know why in the world I haven’t taken her out yet! Sorry baby. That’s the dog baby. Um, her name is actually Bailey. Uhh. Slow down! That’s the manic bit – obsessing on one thing and going on and on.

[And this would be a big change in the conversation.]  You know sometimes things become clear, oh so clear… and then their bellies bust right out of those tight pants and they know how convoluted they are. [What??] I mean honestly… I spent almost two hours tonight preparing some documents everso carefully. I was so sure that anyone who could use a crayon could follow it… or I thought so.

I was supposed to be studying. I really want to finish this course! I’m learning so much. But, nope. It’s been hours and I still haven’t started. It very much annoys me. Oh and the documents I’ve been making so “clear” were for my Mom. No pressure. No expectations that I can’t possibly meet. Actually, I’m not sure she has any expectations of me other than the negative ones. The expectations that all end in failure.

I’m un-niche-able. I’m sorry. No one’s going to suffocate me in expectations of failure anymore. This is my un-niche and I’m keeping it!

I spent all this time getting it set up for her so that we wouldn’t have any conflict, as we always do when it comes to going over this stuff. I thought I’d made it so clear this time. She could just print it all and follow along with the notes that were even colorfully numbered. I even put the name of each file right in the text of the email so she could see where everything came from.

It was all very clear. Just read the email first, as requested, print it, then open and print all the pdfs that were attached. Simple? Not on your life.

I’m sorry if I sound rather like a petulant child, but I kind of feel like one. Huh. There has to be another way.

And this brings me to what I’m ruminating on tonight.

Why are people so uninterested in learning about each other?

At T-Day, I tried to explain to a family member (who will have a psych degree this summer) about how I was diagnosed with ADHD about two years ago, but besides giving me medication they haven’t taught me anything about the illness or how it might interplay with Bipolar Disorder. It seems to me that the ADHD mixed with my ever-present manic-ness would be kind of interesting.

Fascinating stuff. Right? For a psych major? UUUUUuuuummmmmmMMMM NOPE! Not on your bloody life. Talk about a snub and a dismissal. OMG! I totally forgot she’s royalty. EEeerrrttt! Stop right now! I guess I shouldn’t go down that road. Insults from childhood are coming to mind. Ick.

So what’s the deal? As I am finally embracing my un-niche-able-ness I’m getting pretty excited. When I’m excited, as you might guess, I want to “share the good news” with at least someone… if it can’t be with everyone. I was brave and I settled on just one someone. I hoped it was a safe someone. I miss judged. Next time, I’ll think longer on who I trust with my soft underbelly. Get my drift?

You already spotted the Un-Niche all over my face right? Yep. It was the royalty.

Dang. How do I slow this bus down a bit?

The Great Un-niche-able Me!

Teaching one of our cats to go hiking.

I think I’ve found myself. Sort of.

I have been stuck, stunted, and riven clear off the tracks to the point where I’ve actually spent the spent the night having one of my best inner panic attacks. I haven’t gone through one like that for a while.

I’ve been thinking about it a lot, not about the panic attack per se, but about how I’ve gotten here, to this place where I’m stuck in my head. I have some ideas that I’d like to put into some form of business, but I… well, I feel broken. Still. I have another bachelors degree, and I still feel broken. I might answer that sentence by saying… yes, but you still have no job.

Nope, I don’t. And I don’t plan on having one. I’m going to start another business. Yes, I’ve done this having my own business thing before. And don’t give me grief, I’m in the proud third generation of business owners! I’m just going about it my own ADHD way… my Un-Niche-Able way.

“Fine. Like what? You’ve messed everything else up, what’s it going to be this time? You never settle on just one thing and focus on just that one thing. You’re always going to be a failure. You never finish anything.” Says some of the retarded and self-defeating self-talk I’ve been doing for forever.

Nope. I don’t. And now I know why. I’m a person who has a brain that’s crammed full of plastic neurons doing highly technical biological sorts of things in a really unique sort of way. (I’ll be learning more about this as I go along. I promise!)

I don’t focus well on one thing at a time, because I have ADHD.

I have occasional panic attacks and freaky mood swings. I have depression sometimes. Other times, well, I’m manic.

Add “mood swings” or specifically the mania part and ADHD, and you will see me, the really active me. And these two things are a part of the larger group of things that make me myself.

So I need to carve out that special niche to have a successful blog huh… HA!!

I am the Great Un-niche-ableMe. You will never catch me, nor will you see me coming. I’m that little ufo disc zooming around those folks and their power pole just there, in their backyard. Wait, it’s the pie tins again!!

I can’t focus on a single thing, establish a niche because I’m not a single niche. My brain doesn’t know that song or the dance. To have a successful blog, a book or even to write a news article or someone else’s copy or content, I’d have to be able to focus on a single topic, at a time! Honestly, this is such a bizarre idea to me.

Oh god. Noway. Not this woman. No wonder I’ve been feeling like you feel when you play that game where you put your forehead on the baseball bat and spin around and around until some random person tells you all to stop and run to the finish line. (I secretly despised everyone who made it before I did, which was exactly the way it was. Just kidding. You’re so serious, aren’t you?)

Ok, so the more I’ve been thinking about it and trying to come up with a niche, which I was sure was Bipolar Disorder, until I couldn’t write my posts because I was trying to niche-it-up so I could build a blogging business the successful way, with a niche… the problem is, was, and always will be… That I’m just not niche-able. Me and ADHD and FM and OA and this and that and Bipolar disorder. Ok, I’m good with that. I have no pre-defined niche! And you know what? I’m finally totally fine with that.

This is who I am. This is the Un-niche-able Me. And this is finally the beginning of my story and of finding my way and living my best life. I’m going to work on figuring things out as I poke holes in what is expected of me, and making my own squares, rectangles, triangles and so on for myself. Want to tag along?

This is my blog. My place to learn and share what I learn. I hope you’ll come back. I’lljust bet, that there are a lot of you out there who are a lot like me. Yeah?

Maybe I can’t write on Bipolar disorder and only on it… so what? Life isn’t ever that tidy. I’m gonna mix it up a little. Do this my way. On my terms. The way life is really lived and the way I really am, and I’m going to do it as…

The Great Un-niche-able Me!

Have a grand T-Day everyone! Please be safe. I’ll be waiting for you on the flip side of the holiday!

Don’t forget to subscribe so you can see where my brain stops next. There are a few things I want to visit (I can organize things a little bit… but I make lots and lots of notes, which I lose, and then find them and tape to the walls, and make piles of them and then, can’t remember what I wrote them down in. These exciting ideas are in a Word document and are in a special secret place where they will be very safe. Wait – where did it go?

Subscribe. And please, share this un-niche-able-ness with others and LEAVE COMMENTS! What do you think about this line of thinking? Can you identify with me? Tell me about it. Tell me about you. Or, drop me a note from the “contact” page.

Again, welcome to The Great Un-niche-able Me!

What My Med Provider Means to Me

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I’ve complained about my med providers and their apparent inability to comprehend the word ANXIETY for over a year now. You could assume that I don’t like med providers… that I don’t trust them, that I think they’re stupid. Well, umm, yes, that’s basically how I’ve been feeling. I’ve been living a nightmare that has been driving me downward toward my old companions: anger and rage. It makes me feel like they’re getting out of prison and are moving into the house next to mine. I’ve been really scared that I was about to lose control of my emotions again, and eventually, my mind. It has happened before.

I last week I spoke with my counselor (Lee) before my visit with my med provider (Susan) this week. He thought the Ritalin obviously wasn’t working and that my ADHD was out of control. I allowed myself to interact with him the way I do at home with Jessica. My inability to control things like how fast, how much, and how many topics I covered while speaking certainly indicated that this was true.

<OMG! Alexa is playing music from the 1950’s for me. I LOVE THIS MUSIC!>

I was stunned. ADHD? If he was right, this could change everything about the way I approached my brain. I was told I had ADHD just a few years ago and had never taken the time to learn anything about it. Wow, that wasn’t like me at all. I love research! Following rabbit holes is my favorite pastime!

Anyway, I assumed Susan would look at my chart to see what notes Lee would have put in it before she saw me. Doing that would give her knowledge she should have used to help her understand where I was at and she would have seen what Lee was concerned about. It was an assumption I shouldn’t have made. Apparently, things don’t actually work that way.

Every time I see Susan 12 times a year. Yikes! So many times. One of the first things she asks me is if I feel like… if I FEEL like the Ritalin {1} is helping me focus? Focus? What does that mean? How can I tell it’s working? I can pay attention in class. Is that what she means? My attention is crap at home. I can’t ever do just one thing at a time. I have to leave the commercials in when I watch from the DVR (DISH) so that I can read or research stuff online that they just talked about. Is it working? I suppose so? I always replied that I guessed it did. I guess that was silly of me. I would say that because I had no idea what else to say. If I was a little boy, I could probably mean that I’d slow down and stop bouncing off the walls and maybe stay in my seat. But as an adult… I had no idea what that looked like. If I said the wrong thing, she might mess with my meds and right then, they were treating me okay. I wasn’t raging at anyone that day and I didn’t feel depressed.

After I mentioned what Lee and I had talked about and that he was very concerned she took a minute to read his notes. Suddenly she made a whole new treatment plan. I had been on Lithium when I was first diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder (BD). The first book I read on it was: “An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness” by Kay Redfield Jamison. I was deeply touched. I felt like I understood what she was talking about, like we were kindred spirits, linked through the ether by BD. Jamison was very sick when she was diagnosed.

Let me attempt to generally get right to the point for once. Jamison was placed on Lithium to treat her BD and it worked. So, that’s what I asked to be given. My personal doctor (MD), was the one who initially treated me. He said that Lithium has been around for many years and there is a lot of evidence that it works.

The Lithium worked.

Susan felt that since the Ritalin was obviously not helping me focus. I guess that made her rethink her strategy. She finally agreed that my brain was hopping along on two of four legs. She told me that does think I have ADHD she now believes that I’m far more manic, which was making me act like that bouncy ball they teach kids to sing songs with. Do you know what I mean? It might be too old for some of you. They wanted to teach kids songs so a character on a film or on TV would get you to sing along as it had a bouncing ball hop around on the lyrics so we could see the lyrics while we sang. It was great fun! than anything else. Sure I talk incessantly to Jessica, but my brain was exploding with ideas. It was time to help me continue to be creative, but to control my mania so that I could be productive.

The plan: no more Clonazepam, no more Ritalin. Start Lithium.
*The reason I went off Lithium was that my PC (Primary Care) had been highlighting the dangers of being on Lithium more than he was the benefits of it. It was because of these side effects, that I requested I be put on something else that didn’t have the same drawbacks. Lithium toxicity can occur even at a low dose. While on Lithium, the user has to be closely monitored so that the dose can be adjusted as needed. The symptoms of Lithium toxicity are numerous and I already have several of them for other random reasons. This website lists the long lists of side effects. In addition to these potential problems the user (remember this is me) has to carefully watch their intake of salt, caffeine, and alcohol. And get this… some of the other medications that may interfere with Lithium and increase the risk of toxicity are ibuprofen (Motrin, Advil) and naproxen (Aleve). Oh, and I can’t leave out this one: acetaminophen (Tylenol). So… yeah. I had a lot of scary reasons to ask to be taken off the drug that was helping me but was also kind of terrifying too. 

Susan believes that this change in medications should make my extreme moods in control much better.

Excuse me? As long as I’ve been seeing the professionals in this clinic, I’ve never had anyone decide to try Lithium again. All this time… lost. Years of feeling my little grey cells melting, running out of my ears. But then again, Lithium toxicity…

I want to be a writer when I grow up. I once heard that writers go through life with their head cocked a bit to the side. I showed Susan a piece of paper that was covered with writing on both sides. It was filled with websites, blogs, and email addresses that I’d created. She studied it for a while. I asked her if I was stupid and delusional to think that I could do all these things and believe that they were not just good ideas, they were great ideas. They were creative ideas. Is my mind actually existing in a consistent state of delusions of grandeur?

Delusions of grandeur. I’ve always been afraid that people would remember that part of the list of symptoms for BD and dismiss me as a kook. Am I brilliant? Or am I bonkers and deluded? I’ve always believed my ideas were great. Yeah. Delusions of grandeur?

She said no. It wasn’t that. Yes, my thoughts are crazy fast, but I am very creative and smart.

Me – creative and smart. OMG!

Of course, now I respect her. She believes in me. She agrees with me that I’m smart and creative. No one has really said that to me. No one has said, “Robin, you’re not delusional. You’re smart. You’re creative. You have good ideas… cleaver… innovative. Don’t worry about being crazy. We just need to slow you down so you can get things done.

Since then, I’ve discovered additional information that indicates that one aspect of BD is the tendency to be super goal oriented. Yep, that’s me. Why haven’t I’ve seen that before?

Watch out! Corner coming!

What are the good things about having BD? I’ll have to think on that for a while.

Go ahead, get mad when the medical professionals don’t seem to be listening. Pester them until they hear you. Then, you listen to them. Work together. Hope that things will finally start to workout. Now that Susan and I are communicating, now that she hears me, we have a new plan. Maybe my mind won’t keep leaving the scene without me.

Yes, it really has done that. We’ve called professional trackers to find it a few times now. It-is-very-embarrassing when your mind is so exposed, so naked.

New plan. New hope.

Bring it! I’m ready.

I’m more than ready –

{1 – Concerta and Ritalin are stimulant medications used to treat attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). They’re both different brand-name versions of the same drug, called methylphenidate hydrochloride.  https://www.healthline.com/health/adhd/concerta-ritalin}