Mental Illness

The Word at My Fingertips

/ Robin

I’ve been despairing that not attending classes this quarter will drop me down the chute to the hell that is a bipolar episode. One day to the next I’ve been wavering this way and that trying to decide how I will handle this free time. We have some family issues going on that take time, but I still have all 24 hours of each day inside of my own head.

I love to read.

I love to write.

I have abundant time to do both right now so the logical thing would be for me to do them. Right? Maybe. It depends on the mood I woke up in and what I can do to improve it if it needs improving upon. Today, it doesn’t need improving. I’m in a good mood and even spent some time at my Mom’s house when my brother Tony took her lunch. He gets together with her once a week for lunch or something else. Kyle and I took Bailey over to play with Cricket, Mom’s Jack Russel Terrier. We had a nice time. I stayed calm the whole time. I even had some fun.

I’ve been surfing the web looking for news websites I could visit regularly to get ideas for stories for about a week now. So far I’m less than enthused. I don’t really want to buy a subscription to the New York Times for the web and tablet spring special price of $2.50 a week (going back to $5.00 a week when the promotion is over).

I clicked here and I clicked there and I finally ended up someplace interesting. I found an article “The Secret You Need to Know About Ebooks” on The Book Insider website. It had a link to one of those sites where you can find actual really good books for free or really cheap. A lot of books. I typically ignore sites like this but I surprised myself this time and signed up. Then I checked some boxes saying what I was interested in and Shaazzam! FREE BOOKS. Books I’ll actually read them. Maybe. It depends on how manic I become.

After spending about an hour carefully selecting books to “read” because we all know I’ll read them all, I experienced a feeling. I felt like I’d found something I was looking for.

Words. We all use them. Some of us use them for good and some for bad but we all use them. Now I have a wealth of books to read and learn from. Books to consider and be instructed in the fine art of writing by. And, probably some books I’ll just delete and not waste my time with. Nevertheless, I have books.

I’ve been reading a substantial amount over the last week or so and I was starting to tire of it, which is bad. Then I found all these free and low cost books and the manic bit of myself was awakened. I like it when it is awake. It feels good. I can do amazing things when I’m a bit manic. The trick is to not let it take me over.

The plan, if it can be said to be a plan, is to read and write and be as productive as I can for as long as I can. It will stop, this manic touch. The question is will I be in a good place when it does.

In the meantime let’s load these ponies up in the truck and see how far we can take them.

It’s exciting to be a bit manic! Let’s just hope I can keep it under control.

Now that’s a silly thing to say if I ever heard one.

Changes and Triggers

/ Robin

By now I know that major changes in my life can trigger an episode. This is true for everyone who suffers from Bipolar Disorder. Last September I went to Florida to see my daughter for ten days. We spent nearly every day at one of the amusement parks. That plus the flights there and back were major stressors for me. Then just a few days after I got back, I started back to school at the University of Washington at Tacoma. That was another even bigger stressor. I admit, I didn’t do great dealing with the overload and eventually had to start on a chill pill so I could get back to where I could function.

Now I’m taking spring quarter off from school (another stressor) and am looking for a small house to buy closer to town (yet another stressor). I’m hoping that my son will move out when I move (stressor) so that I can just get it all over with at one time.

I’ve been reading one the books on my “Books” page called “The Bipolar Survival Guide” and it reminded me that these types of stressors can lead to episodes. I’ve not only got one stressor, but since my dad passed last year in January it’s been nonstop stress.

How am I doing? I’m listening to my dog and playing more and taking her to the park to walk her with my son, his girlfriend and her dog. I’m sleeping enough. I’m eating okay. I’m trying to eat better. I’m taking my meds on schedule. I’m not doing my usual occasional night of skipping my meds for a night just because I can, because that’s a stupid and risky thing to do. I have some wine in the refrigerator that I will be getting rid of. No more alcohol. I have enough stressors and triggers tapping on my “overload’ button without me purposefully adding more.

How am I doing right now? I want some of that Hersey chocolate frozen pie stuff, that’s how I’m doing.

I really wish I had some!

So now begins the time when I have enough time to realize how stressed I am and actually act stressed. I’m not looking forward to having free time. How’s that for weird?

Bipolar – Stress is Killing Me

/ Robin

I am a stress junkie. I live in a perpetual state of messy stress. I am Stress.

I’ve developed a muscular tick, especially in my jaw muscles, that causes my muscles to hysterically violently spasm. I know this probably sounds strange, but I’ve got this amazing “tick” in my face that sometimes causes my jaw to clench so violently and my tongue to jerk around that I can’t speak. At first it seems I studer. But that’s only at the beginning.

We were hanging out at my mom’s house today and while I was speaking with my brother I continued the tick that was already forcing me to stop talking and clench my teeth together and giving me a headache I completely drowned in a sea of cascading ticks. I could hardly breathe. The “stammering” continued to get worse. I felt panic rising. My daughter told me to stop trying to talk. Let it go. Be silent.

I have been to my doctor, my med provider, my counselor, my neurologist to see what is causing this horrible thing. I won’t bore you with all the things we talked about or the exams I had, but I will tell you what seems to be the cause… Stress. It’s in my head. Seriously. I’m finally able to admit it really is in my head. That’s the place I have to deal with it… in my head, my brain.

As long as I can remember my muscles have been tight and hard as a rock. Stress is doing that to me. Always has. I have to stop it. I’m getting angry even thinking about it right now. The anger is so easy to feel when I’m unable to stop the ticking, even with my jaw firmly shut. I want it to stop and it isn’t stopping. It’s making me more angry and at the same time I’m becoming more depressed about it. Stress.

Imagine being Bipolar and having such a high level of stress that while the violence of depression and mania are being mostly controlled at this moment by medications I cannot control my stress. Yes, stress is making it easier to slip into depression, but I’m not able to control it and I can’t help myself.

After searching my life and things I could do now I was unable to find anything to help me. Maybe. A year or so ago I learned about this thing called “neuroplasticity”. Basically (the bit relevant to me I think… thought) neuroplasticity is remapping my brain, physically changing it, through something called “mindfulness”. I’m not going to explain what it is now. I encourage you to learn about it yourself. (Follow the links at the bottom of this message to learn more.)

Over the next 8 weeks I’m going to engage in a program developed by the University of Massachusetts called “Mindful Based, Stress, Relief” or MBSR. The workshop presents material that is real world science based. Lives have been, will be and are being changed by MBSR.

Why am I doing this? Because I can’t stand the tick anymore and there is no medical reason for me to have it. I do have Stress. I am Stress. What am I stressed about? I’ve no idea. I can be at home alone and my face will spasm and I’ll bite my tongue or my arm will jerk and my soup will fly with the greatest of ease across the counter. In fact, it did the other day. It’s making my face dance in an absurd parody of calm. My cheeks and tongue are twitching as well as my arms and legs even as I write this.

Stress. Being Bipolar and being Stress is a messy combination, physically and mentally. It seems to me that a science based program that reduces stress is worth giving a try. As the saying goes… It can’t hurt. Right now this spasming is hurting. Hurting a lot.

I’ll try to keep you posted on how I progress and hopefully experience relief from my stress. You probably know how Bipolar is… sometimes you can write and sometimes you just can’t. I’ll do my best. Consider me a lab rat that is exploring a serious way to deal with my stress, depression, anxiety, and a mass of physical and mental problems I have.

I need to heal. I need to be able to talk and eat, to write and relax. (Ouch! Sorry. Bit my tongue again.)

I need to reduce my stress. I think that’s the key.

Stress. I must master it and all the aliments that can come with it before it drives me crazier and hurts me physically. MBSR. Check out these videos. They’re short. They’ll explain what I couldn’t talk long enough to explain to my brother what is. Tick. Spasm. Tick. One after the other endlessly crushing me.

Seriously, watch one or two videos. At the very least they might give you insight into me. You read what I’ve typed, now watch something I’ve watched and learned from. Get to know me a bit more. It couldn’t hurt.

What is Mindfulness?
Mindfulness – Liberation from Suffering
TEDxBoulder – Mindfulness and Healing

If you’re curious the program I’m doing is here: MBSR

Bipolar – Ignorant Med Providers

/ Robin

I am a mixed state Bipolar 1 with ADHD.

Yesterday I saw my Med Provider. We’ve been working on adjusting my meds for some time now. A month or so ago I said something about how this one thing in my life was mentally and physically causing me pain and contributing to my depression. Okay. So far so good.

This time I referred to the same thing only I said it was going to be taken care of… but that it scared me (It will potentially cause a great deal of physical pain at the beginning).

She said, “You’re all over the map. First it was horrible and depressing. Now it’s getting taken care of and you’re still not happy.”

I wanted to say…. “First off, I’m here because I’m Bipolar 1…. and my statements support that I think. You’ve never gone through the procedure I’m going through. It’s not fun. It scares me because last time it failed. It’s can be very painful. And… it takes 2-3 hours round trip every Monday for 6 weeks to complete it. I’m at week 4 next Monday.”

Do you think what she said was appropriate? Or am I just a “normal” person who shouldn’t be all over the map?

Then… she increased almost all my meds.

Bipolar – Fractured

/ Robin

I don’t like to talk about the spin, the time when I free fall and cannot make myself stop. When anger and grief and pain explode in my life… not just my brain. What I think, this is what and who I am.

For the moment. Sometimes these moments can draw on for the proverbial eternity and we try to think, if we could, that we’re coming near the end, that we cannot stand this anymore.

I didn’t have more than brief moments of these things. Most of the time I have been so manic that I thought my brain would implode from shear spinning. You see my friend, I’m a mixed Bipolar 1. Those of you who aren’t familiar with this condition, congratulations. Today you win the lottery. This last few weeks have been terrible. I have been very depressed and unable to see it or deal with it. When it was suggested that this might be where my massive irritation was coming from I had a difficult time admitting that it probably was. (See how I did that? I still skirted around it.)

I have exploded, with my kids present, too many times. Recently, too many times. Okay, not exactly always at them. Sometimes just when they’re around. When I’ve considered my past I worry for the times they’ve been exposed to my insanity. Being a single mom and going ballistic for what seems now like for no reason at all leaves a mark on kids. They say it’s worse than divorce. I’m both. Bipolar and divorced. I worry for they scars they carry… because of me.

I’m a mixed state depressed and yet manic Bipolar 1. I have two kids still at home. I am alone. I have no friend to speak of accept one and we met on line and don’t speak of these things. I’m glad for that. I can be normal with her. She knows I’m Bipolar and she doesn’t care. I act rationally if a little meanderingly with her. And yet, I fear I’ll say something and she’ll walk away too. So many have that I’ve quit trying to find friends.

My family doesn’t (beyond my kids) understand. Not at all. When they care to try to… they… well they don’t. Recently I learned that when my mother took home stuff to read about Bipolar she never read them. She’s never looked it up on line. She’s now 72. She has no excuse. She knows how to use Google.

Yet we all know that even the great Google cannot explain this that we are. We are ourselves. We are great in mental volume, if not in order. We excel in emotion, if not in control.

I spent a lot of time this last few weeks in grief, anger, fear, irritation and depression. I suppose, don’t understand why I avoid that. I think it seems to my fractured mind that admitting depression means loosing the last bastion of my mind. Confusing, I know. New meds sedate me too the point where I simply cannot not sleep. This frightens me as well. You see, as my med provider put it, “We need to get your nerves calmed down.” Now, when I’m not so calm as to sleep, I’m not calm. There must be a middle ground. I must give my mind time to heal. Be patient.

My kids suffer I think. They are afraid they may have inherited my genes too much. But you know, after all of me, all of living with me, they still believe in themselves. They have ego. EGO. All three believe in themselves.

See you thought I’d never finish the “pride” letter didn’t you? Ha! They have pride in themselves that is good. It isn’t forced. It’s part of who they are. Part of their hardwiring. I asked them how they each manage to be so sure of themselves. This is what they said, each one said this:

“Mom, you taught us to believe in ourselves. You drilled it into us. You, you did this.” I did. I made them who they are. (Give this wording to me for now. I deserve it.)

I have my own ego. Ego born of an accurate estimation of ones abilities is a good thing. I’ve struggled with this thinking I’m really stupid because I never finish anything. But I have. I’ve successfully raised three amazing kids (young adults). I know what I’m good at and they are many things. I finish things when my brain lets me. One thing.

I’ve raised three amazing kids. I’ve been a wreck this week. But, I started on Lyrica for some of my physical pain. I should be scheduled soon for a shot in my spine and that should alleviate a lot of my other physical pain. My additional meds should mitigate some of my mental pain. Even though I’m up in the middle of the night again, I feel restless, but hopeful. For the moment. These moments will grow longer, this much I know from experience. I must stay the course and take all my meds every single bloody day.

I have one thing to say to you and I hope you will listen.

I’ve raised great kids. Awesome kids. I love them beyond words. I… have raised awesome kids despite myself.

My friends write to me and comment on my letter. I wish to read your thoughts. You too are important to me. Till the nest time, be well and be patient with yourself. Give yourself a chance to heal.

(Oh, and there are now 23 pot shops. (Oy veh)