5-Minutes

5minutes Are you listening? Can you hear me?

I need you to hear me.

I need you to know what I mean when I say, “I just can’t!”

You really need to understand this illness before we talk about, “I just can’t” It will make so much more sense then.

I’ve written about my troubles for years in my paper journals. I’ve always imagined that when I die, one of my family, my kids perhaps, would read them and finally understand me. They would finally understand that I’m not a bad person, a lazy person, or a freeloader.

I’m sick. I’ve always been a sick person.

With technology what it is today, it’s easy to find an informative book that explains what it is to have what I have. I’ve searched YouTube for videos that explain me and have found a few that try to do it and seem to do it well. We’re all different of course so what describes one person may not completely fit me. But if the person watching will just listen, listen and hear the pain and the wrongness of it all.

Wrongness. That’s what it is.

You’d think, maybe this is the child whose rage never seemed to end, a brat that pushed and pushed…. Wouldn’t you like an explanation?

I’d think someone who claims to love me would take a few minutes to watch a 5-minute video, just a five-minute video, to learn about me. Surely, someone, anyone of you must care enough to sit for five-minutes for me? Did you hang out in line for coffee or in line at the grocery store? Is that silly? Have you “liked” any funny pictures or memes today? Did you watch ANY TV? What were you doing on commercials? Why is this so hard for you?

Did you watch the news today or read your Facebook feed? Have you texted anyone or talked on the phone?

Would you think I didn’t love you if I didn’t return your calls or texts for two or three weeks? Would you call and check on me?

How much energy does it take to watch a video?

What are you afraid of?

I’d have thought I’ve shown you enough of what this illness is that you have nothing left to fear.

And yet, you don’t hesitate. You completely stop.

“I don’t have time.”

Will you have time to visit me in the hospital?

I’m not going to try to kill myself just to get your attention. But I can’t promise to do what’s best for me all the time.

Maybe I’ll have to mourn the death of you so that I can learn to live without you. Because you see, I already live like this. You are emotionally unavailable to me. Without “my people” surrounding me in a protective layer of love to cushion me when I fall….

Adults are just like children. We all have a fair expectation of being loved. When that expectation is not met we wither and begin to slip away.

Do you have five-minutes?

I need you to listen to me today.

Just follow the link.

Then maybe we could talk.

I’ve had a thought. I’ve unwillingly learned more about inappropriate relations whether they be physical, racial, or political just watching prime time TV than you’ve learned about me on purpose.

It isn’t rocket science. But it is science. I am sick. Unlike some illnesses like some cancers where the patient may go into remission or finally be overcome by it, my sickness has not given me a moment’s rest.

Sometimes I wish I had an illness you could see so that you would mourn me when I die. But for today, I live as though I’m normal. That’s how you see me. Normal. That’s how I look. This illness is rude beyond anything I’ve ever seen. It grabs hold and never lets you go. It bombards me from within, from where you cannot see. This illness, it stays in the “ON” position from before I was diagnosed until I die.

That’s right. I have it now. You cannot see it. I will die with it.

Would you watch the video?

Or would you rather I had cancer? Then you’d have something you could see.

I’m tired of being unseen for who I am.

Please, are you listening? Can you hear me?

I’m wondering if you’ve ever felt anything like this. This is all true in my life. What about you? If you have known that, I hear you. I will listen to you. I have way more than 5-minutes to give you.

* I had my counselor read this yesterday so that he could see what’s in my brain. I told him I was going to edit it, polish it up before I posted it so it would be clearer in some places. He suggested that I not do that. He felt that letting you see where my brain was at was a place of raw emotion. He urged me to keep the “rawness” in it. So, here it is. Right from my brain and served up to you on a virtual platter.

Writing to Release My Pain

brain_on_fire As long as I can remember my mom has been telling me to write down my troubles (like people I hate [my interpretation], my frustrations, the things that are bothering me, and so on). I imagine that people actually do this… but I don’t. It’s probably because my mom tells me to try it and I rarely listen to my mom. Isn’t that horrible?

I do things that have my spin on them and they basically do the same thing. I write in a journal. This has turned into a massively time-consuming endeavor. I feel better when I finish, but I’d better go to bed an hour earlier if I plan on doing it before bed.

I started out buying those books that are used in school. They’re cheap and I can get loads of them with different colors and characters. Then I discovered the leather bound, very expensive ones at the bookstore. Oh, my word! They are so cool! I began looking for my next one before I even finished the one I was filling. This made journaling feel like I was writing for my kids and grandkids. I still wrote the truth about myself and what I was thinking, but I started thinking they’d be more likely to read the ones that were the coolest.

Fiction.

I’ve been writing fiction for a long time. I’ve never published any. But, I did go to school to learn how to do it. I still don’t feel like I’ve learned how to do it. Weird, right?

When I got divorced I needed someplace to put my anger. I was furious. Lies were told about me and assumptions that were just not true were made. It was terrible.

So, I killed my ex-husband.

Okay, I didn’t actually kill him. I was writing a novel for practice and I decided to model the bad guy after my ex-husband. Things had begun to get worse before we divorced. I think most marriages that are falling apart experience the same thing. But me, I was writing a book and I wanted the bad guy to be killed horribly during a chase scene. I needed a little information about how it might happen from an expert. My ex-husband was going to be my bad guy!

The scene takes place on Puget Sound and involves a cigarette boat running headlong into the propeller of a super ferry. I wanted to know if it would kill him and if the boat was going to be blown to bits. He was very nice and answered all my questions.

Oh yeah. He would be very dead and there would be many bits and pieces.

<Jumping for joy!>

Alright, here’s what I think. Getting the junk out of our brains is really important. Holding onto stuff: the pineapples and bananas in our brains is a super bad thing to do and helps to ruin our mental health. Writing in any form: fiction, non-fiction, fan fiction, journaling, pad to scribble on, post-it pads, computer paper – then burning it, etc.)

Oh, blogging is a great thing to do too. You can use any of the kind of writing in a blog as well. Have fun doing your brain dump!

What’s Normal? And What’s Not? Judging Families

Yesterday I was challenged on this very topic. I was shocked by what I heard. I was even more shocked because I couldn’t believe who said it and who the person said who they believed had this great family.

So my question is this, who gets to judge what a Good Family is like?

I’d very much like to learn what you all think before I charge fourth and bigger things up.

So my friends! Speak! Tell me what you think.

If you’re willing, could you repost my questions elsewhere.

More soon.

Bipolar – Pussy Kitty

Savvy

Some months ago we rescued a kitten that was discarded with the rest of her litter in a cat carrier in a ditch behind a Walmart. We decided to foster her. She was too young to have been taken from her mother and underweight.

The kitten’s name is Savvy and she’s become a therapy animal for all of us. She’s been interacting with Jessica’s cats and has Murdoch, the male, plays with her like she would do the rough and tumble games that he hasn’t been with any of the other animals.

Jessica’s female cat Thea has trouble coming out of her bedroom. Savvy draws my support dog Bailey’s attention away from looking at Thea. Bailey is a cattle dog (a Kelpie) and firmly believes that since Thea runs away that she must be lost, so she tries to stir her to where she thinks Thea needs to be at. Where might be? No one knows. The result is that she gets corralled and runs straight back into the bedroom.

Savvy and Bailey have a really special relationship. They play like their both dogs. When Bailey chases a ball, Savvy races her to it. Then kitten approaches Bailey from the front and jumps on her face, grabbing her by her forehead, ears, and snout. Bailey ignores her like a mother would until Savvy gets too rough, then she flips the kitten off her face and onto the floor. Then Bailey pushes her around, flipping, pushing, and rolling on her. (Yeah, I don’t get that either.)

The result? My therapy dog gets support from a kitten that we rescued.

And me, I watch all the silliness around me and feel, well, warm and fuzzy all over.

When the day is over Bailey sleeps on my bed. She’s helped me through long, lonely nights. Being depressed and alone at night is hard. Savvy sleeps curled up right against Bailey like she thinks Bailey is her mother. You know even when they take a nap during the day they sleep together.

It’s so sweet. I love it.

Bailey is restless at night. She’s taken to sleeping on the hardwood floor for part of the night. I’ve been worried that the kitten would leave me since her mommy doggie left, but she hasn’t.

Right now Savvy is curled up between my knees and I feel the way I always do when the kitten walks up my body, curls up on my chest, and passes out. It makes me remember what it was like to hold one of my babies. It’s nowhere the same, but it reminds me of the quiet love and joy that I’m capable of feeling.

Me, myself, and I… I am capable of feeling love and joy. Sometimes this can be so hard to remember.

Sometimes I feel so dark… but these animals, especially Bailey and Savvy, have helped me stay on the happy side, except for the couple of times I’ve lost my cookies and freaked out, partially losing control of my temper and danced with rage.

Rage. Oh hell no!

Where are my therapy animals? I need them! Where are my loving puppy and pussy kitty?

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}