While I sobbed last afternoon on my front porch my puppy sat off to the side confused.
My mom listened for a minute. I was short and concise. I was hysterical. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t breathe.
She told me to call her later.
Then she drove away.
Bipolar type 1
Bipolar – Insurance
I’ve been on the phone last Thursday, Friday and today with people of perhaps challenged intelligence trying to un-mess my daughter’s health insurance. No luck so far. Maybe tomorrow.
The thing that kills me about being Bipolar and insurance is not having or not having it… I mean insurance. The thing that kills me is that being both Bipolar 1, ADHD and being able to become depressed in the barest moment is that despite finally succeeding in getting my prescription for Lyrica cleared for my FM (Fibromyalgia) I’m depressed. (I’m a mixed state Bipolar so I’m very good at this little trick of the brain.)
I’m frustrated and angry and depressed and frustrated and angry and depressed…. I haven’t experienced more than a few minutes of gladness for the Lyrica victory. I’ll have to focus on this more and try to let the victory overtake me by it’s great possibilities for relief for me.
If you have BP or other such thing, you may find that you have difficulty with your health in other areas. I was reading an insurance fact sheet today that said that disabled people (of which I am a subset of) tend to neglect their health… Google it darling. ;0)
I have my father’s teeth. Neither of us have any. I’ve not been able to wear the standard dentures that the State provides to those on disability insurance. I’m hopeful (I hope) that my insurance will cover more costly ones including posts that will done at the University of Washington. I think it’s the School of Oral Surgery. I have complicating issues so I think, rather, I trust and hope, that the new face will be covered.
I have to be honest, the fear that insurance won’t cover a new face for me terrifies me. I’m 51 years old and I have no teeth. I cannot wear regular dentures.
Add my lack of ability of what I consider the ability to smile a truly joyful smile to my Alphabet soup and you have a mixture that’s hard to swallow. So to speak. Well, I did choke on a blueberry muffin this morning at breakfast.
And now… I simply cannot reread this. I hope that it is at least a little understandable. I’m very frustrated and irritable and need to explore my current method, well, my current exploration of a way, to reign myself in so I can slow down, if not be peaceful before bed. I’m speaking of something called Mindfulness.
Mindfulness… Do you know it? So far my friend it seems a good thing to hedge my bets by. (Or is that “with”?)
Good night.
Please write. I reply to all letters.
Bipolar – The blow. . .
There isn’t any good way for me to tell this to you. I can’t think of a single way to soften the blow. . .
The blow. That’s funny. We’ve counted 3 times. Today I found another one. There are 21 medical marijuana shops traveling from my house, down a major arterial into the city, and ending downtown.
Twenty-one gigantic green pluses (+) all along the road. These mark the blessed spots where the water grows greener. The pot shops.
There are more pot shops in this 5 mile drive than there are coffee shops. I live near Seattle. Go figure.
My Primary Care Provider (read… doctor) has tried to convince me to use the green lung goo for several years. I suppose he feels that Bp 1, OA, FM, anxiety, and ADHD are a bit much to handle. Hmm… and chronic pain from bulging disks and arthritis (specifically in my lower back) and that it might relieve my pain (read “issues”, loving referred to as my “alphabet soup”).
Nah, I don’t think so. I visited an old work friend who has been on the stuff for years (beginning before it was legal here) and I tell you after I visited her and her husband at their multi-generational home… I think not.
That’s a NO.
I’m not going to go into my specific reasons about this issue because I’m only writing to tell you this one immutable fact:
THERE ARE 21 POT shops BETWEEN my HOUSE and DOWNTOWN.
5 miles.
21 pot shops.
Forget my alphabet soup my friend.
That’s a bit too much.
21.
{If you disparage of my use of the term “pot shop”, you are thinking this thing through way too hard.}
Bipolar – PENS & Oxycodone
I love pens. I really, really want to get one of those very expensive jobbies. I saw some in a gift boutique downtown Wednesday afternoon. They were 2013 models and at a bargain 50% off the normal $450 and $300. Oiy! Maybe not today. I’d love to get one for myself and one for my eldest daughter. We both love to write.
Writing can be a passionate thing. It is with me. Always with me I’m investing something of myself when I write whether it’s something blatantly obviously personal or if it’s something going on in my head that I want to talk about.
Right now I want to say something that I think is very important so sit up and read carefully. I’m putting this in terms of applying to myself so I know this from personal experience.
I have chronic pain. I have something wrong with my L4 and L5 disks, degenerative disks all the length of my spine, osteoarthritis, and fibromyalgia. I have a twice replaced right knee (replaced twice in two years, the first time it didn’t work) known as a TKR. I am 51 years old and I must say I do not appreciate needing to go to a pain management specialist and taking narcotics… every day.
I’ve been having what i can only label as nightmares now that I’m taking closer to the prescribed amount each day. (I also take Tramadol but that gives me migraines after a few days use). I don’t normally have nightmares. I was having trouble discerning reality fro dream when I would wake up in the morning.
Tonight I woke after another “nightmare” and remember something quite startling. When I was “incarcerated” in a facility to recover for my TKR the second time because my parents were moving and my kids wouldn’t be around to care for me giving me meds and such. It was a horrible experience. Besides generally feeling like I was incarcerated I was on Oxycodone at my maximum dosage every single time I could take it. The staff were only too happy to let me have it.
Unfortunately I had several nights in which I had terrifying and convincing hallucinations. It has taken me a long time to admit they didn’t really happen. Add to that, that I don’t remember my eldest daughter calling me daily from the MacDill Air Force base where she works as an air traffic controler. We live across the country from each other and that eats at my heart. We’ve always been close and the distance is difficult. But I don’t remember her calls and I know that bothers her. She took care of me during my first recovery and had to go through my even having two blood clots below my surgical knee. That was also a nightmare.
Last night and tonight I’ve been about at the level of Oxycodone that I was at in the rehabilitation center (read: nursing home) and I’ve started having hallucinations, not nightmares.
I suspect my use of pain medications is on the way down. We’ve tried a number of things and nothing seems to help.
I have an idea that I am sure will help. Ever hear of neuroplasticity? I’m sure you’ve heard of Luminosity, that’ s neuroplasticity. For me, this will mean using mindfulness to “remap” my brain and in doing so enable my actual brain structure to interpret pain differently. It won’t seem painful to me. I guess I could put it like that without going into detail right now. I will soon though.
Neuroplasticity is becoming my key to dealing with my much of my troubles. Think of it, how awesome it will be to control my chronic pain, Bipolar, FM and OA… at least to a degree. Many advanced meditation practitioners are known to change their brains in a manner like the mindfulness I’ve mentioned.
Mindfulness. Neuroplasticity. How great to have the possibility of using these disciplines to help myself!
I’m not likely to be drug free… but I’ll get as far as I can.
I’ll talk about Mindfulness and Neuroplasticity in depth soon. They are very important disciplines that science backs up. I mean they are both proven scientifically to work in the areas I need. They impact many other things too. After all, they are not confined to “topics” the brain considers. They do however, change the brain in ways we cannot comprehend considering the vast expanse, the last frontier as they say. At night I’ve taken to listening to Pandora. I searched and found a Mindfulness station to listen through the night. It’s playing right now. I finally decided to subscribe. Know why? The commercials were scaring me as I slept. Ew.
Watch your consumption of drugs like Oxycodone. You could have side affects you would think would anticipate.
Be cautious. Be ever vigilant.
Catch you later.I’m trying to stay awake for a while. Those hallucinations were getting very weird. Scary.
Robin
Bipolar – Symphony No. 1
My kids don’t understand why I love classical music. I’m sorry darlings, but I do. I started listening to my limited cassette collection when I purloined my mother’s never listened to tapes and started listening while I attempted to do my homework in high school. I found early on in my academic career that music with words completely fascinates… ok. That’s a totally lie. I forget all about my homework and sing along.
Classical music turned out to be a great boon for me. I could close my eyes and center myself as I continued to distract myself. I looked out the windows and was coerced to let my eyes hungrily absorb the beauty I saw all around me. We lived in a house far off the road in Washington State in a small town called Gig Harbor. Our home was a mile off the main road and on ten acres of woodland. We had horses and dogs and cats and pigs and chickens… and a pond. We had all sorts of things. And then, we had classical music.
I was prompted to write to you about classical music tonight because I’m sitting here, finally silent and not bothering either kid while plugged in (as I call it). I’ve been very busy talking and bossing and yelling and laughing and being frustrated all weekend
We finally had our garage sale and made a little money. I’m about halfway to being able to afford to fly to Tampa, Florida to see my Air Force Airman daughter Jessica. I’m so proud of her. And I miss her so much.
Sydney has been playing a video game that was making her crazy for the last several hours. Kyle was helping me submit a patent to the patent office. That was a little nutty. While Kyle went over what we had written and tried to clarify some things we ran into Sydney. Honest. Practically physically. “You guys are saying the same thing!!!” I knew I needed to slow down.
As soon as we finished I thanked my boy and hugged him. Then I got out my Samsung S5 and plugged in (my lingo for putting in/on head or ear phones. Plugging in means there is a chance I’ll stop talking for a while and maybe even focus.
Focus. Yeah, buddy. You betcha.
I closed my eyes and drew myself together. I thought about the lessons I’ve been learning about mindfulness. I focused and opened my eyes. Symphony No. 1, Czech Philharmonic Chamber Orchestra (Brian Crain, Spring Symphonies) was playing. It was amazing. It brought me back to a time when life was simpler, when I might have thought of fewer things in the space of ten minutes. Maybe. It seems like that was the way it was.
Today, I’ve signed up for Pandora without commercials. I need the music without the psychosis inducing commercials. I’m loving it.
So we finished the garage sale. Most of the ten or so boxes of books we have left have been packed into my car and will find a new home at Half Priced Books this week. I’ll take a few boxes in at a time. I’ve discovered I get a better price that way. Feels weird to let my friends, my comfort books, go on to other people. It’s like finally giving a part of myself up that I no longer need.
My meds are to thank for that mostly. I don’t feel like I MUST have them to be able to handle life. I’m finding the strength to carry on inside my own brain, in my spirit if you will. Meds taken as instructed…. are helping me settle down long enough to be sensible about things I was so compulsive about before.
Everyone (including all the pets) have gone off to bed. I think I’ll follow their lead. Probably going to be a busy week ahead of us. The calendar says so.
I’ll talk to you soon my friends. In the meantime… listen to some music you don’t normally listen to. Maybe classical? Maybe country? Whatever it is, close your eyes and try to let it take you away to a place where you can be more peaceful… quiet.
I’m on my way to bed right now. After I post this. Then right now. And I’ll read for a bit. Then my Kindle/phone will fall on my face, I’ll smile, put it down properly and pass out. I love falling asleep like that.
Night friends.
Bipolar Redux 