Bipolar – I Think You Should Take Fewer Pills

I’m going to notify my counselor that I must be rid of my med provider as soon as it can be arranged. I’ve told Arthur, my counselor, that I don’t feel that Jamie (med provider) is working in my best interest. My next appointment with her she started right off by confronting me about what I’d told Arthur. I confessed thit it was true.

It got me no where.

She says that I’m on too many pills and she doesn’t want to add anymore. Apparently, this is her rational for not giving me medication that might actually have helped me.

I’ve been practically begging for something for my anxiety that only get’ s increasingly more consuming with each passing day

This whole school year has been like a nightmare.

She doesn’t want to give me more pills? Bull!! It is not her choice to decide whether what other doctors prescribe me for illnesses she knows even less about than I do.

She has repeatedly used this as an excuse not to give me something that could prevented me from my brake down. I have high cholesterol, my thyroid is out of whack, I have chronic horrible lower back pain, I have FM, RA, OA, a facial tick (probably stress related), PTSD, and have recently been diagnosed with IBS-d. It’s a crap load of stuff, but they have all been dealt with by someone more intelligent than she is.

I’ve asked each and every visit for something to help with the burning anxiety. She refuses. She gives me fewer chill pills.

Does she think I like taking a handful of pills twice a day? Moron.

I’ve finally had a breakdown. I blame her. In December I confessed I’d been having thoughts of harming myself. I’d hidden that for years, but at that point it was too much, and I confessed it.

She did nothing.

If I can’t trust my med provider to guard my mental wellbeing, than who will? There aren’t many options here.

I’ve started to shake, Twitter, and twitch again. I’m graduating today. My anxiety that mixes like a charm with my mania and depression making my constant mixed state even more confusing and painful. It’s too much to handle anymore.

I’m firing her. She truly doesn’t have my best interests in mind. I don’t need one of my medical professionals contributing to my madness. That’s just sick.

Bipolar – I Lost Time

https://etiquetteofmadness.wordpress.com/2018/06/09/bipolar-i-lost-time/

Bipolar – I Lost Time

https://etiquetteofmadness.wordpress.com/2018/06/09/bipolar-i-lost-time/

Bipolar Disorder-Announcing a New, Really Helpful Book on Living Successfully With Our Super Powers

Success_Key_400x400

I’m graduating from the University of Washington at Tacoma on the 11th. I can’t wait. This entire year the pressure has been building within me. It feels tangible, like a physical thing pulling at me, never letting me alone.

I broke. I threw the mouse for my laptop. I threw it really hard right in front of my daughter who has just moved in with me. I scared her. It’s been years since I’ve acted like that, so violent and scary. She didn’t know what to do. My dog, who is supposed to be my emotional support dog, ran for Jessica’s room and hid there until it was safe to come back out. I had to get her to forgive me and we calmed each other down. She doesn’t like me yelling, raiding my voice or swearing.

The pressure to get a job frightens me and cracks begin to tear in the fragile being that is me.

My grandfather had a window washing company and a carpet cleaning company. When he retired my father and mother took it over. Now, my brother and his partner run the company, I have had two publishing companies that I started myself. Then my brain went kaboom! And it all went away.

I’ve gone back to college hoping to gain the skills necessary to better start and run another new business. I’m planning on having another publishing company that focuses on non-fiction, especially regarding mental health. Here, in this blog, I share with you my honest experiences and troubles. What I don’t do, is preach to you about what I think are answers to my problems. If you scan my posts, you may see different ways I deal with my illnesses.

Announcing a New, Really Helpful Book on
Living Successfully With Our Super Powers

I believe that the dozens and dozens of books on mental illness and especially on Bipolar Disorder miss the mark in dealing with the real issues I face every day. Let me give you an example. I don’t know about you, but I have a ton of trouble focusing on one thing long enough finish it. Also, anxiety has been beating me over the head and for the first time, I felt it was necessary to tell my family and my counselor that I’d been having brief moments of wanting to hurt myself. I’ve felt it so strongly that I was frightened that I might actually do something.

Am I qualified to give advice regarding Bipolar Disorder? I don’t have a degree in psychology, but I have raised three kids on my own. I’ve been dealing with my illness for as long as I can recall. My mother always thought it was her fault that I behaved the way I did. I finally learned that I had been presenting symptoms since I was very young. She thought I was possessed I think. My parents sent me to stay for the summer with her very religious sister and her family. I think she was hoping it might change me. It never did. Oh, I want to mention that I have a degree in Religious Education (or something like that). I no longer actively practice my faith.

Why am I qualified to undertake this project? I care about each of you. I want to present different ideas on how to survive and even thrive despite having a life long illness. I’ll be getting my degree in Writing Studies in a few days. Hopefully that has taught me how to communicate my thoughts better. I don’t aim for perfection in my blogs. I just want to express my real life situations and feelings to you.

Most of the books that I have are primarily loaded with worksheets. Worksheets! I can barely sit still long enough to focus and understand a short chapter there’s no way I’m doing worksheets. How do you feel about them?

Well, that’s enough of that. Maybe you’ll be interested in it, maybe you won’t. To each is his own.

I am a survivor. I might fall and be all scuffed up, but I’ll heal and I’ll get back to work. I believe that I know what my passion is and I’ve committed myself to give myself over to it.

Have you ever considered doing that?

I hope that you’ll stick around and maybe recommend my blog to others who might resonate with it.

We are a group of people who are not understood by the general public. We’ve gone from being stuck in special hospitals for the instant and given inhumane treatments to today when we are blamed for mass shootings. I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time that we rally around ourselves and learn about ourselves first. Then, I would like to see us enter into our communities and make a difference. We are real people who want to live real lives.

I’m not going to try to get you to come to seminars where I will convince you to purchase expensive kits that include DVDs, workbooks, cards to memorize and other “useful” things.

No, that’s not how it should be done.

There are more of us who suffer from illnesses like Bipolar Disorder than “normal” people could possibly imagine. We are everywhere. I think it’s time to take our special superpowers and use them to change our lives, and maybe our world.

Do we have superpowers? Of course, we do. Can you recall the last time someone you know was suffering and you understood how they felt and knew just what to do for them? No? Well, don’t be discouraged. Our superpowers are often there and doing their things. We just don’t recognize them for what they are.

So school’s almost over and I’ll have time to work exclusively on my new business. There is so much for me to learn. And I have so much to share with you.

If you’re curious or have a suggestion for me to consider please email me right away. I’ll take every message seriously. After all, who knows better what will help us other than ourselves.

I think it’s time to rock! How about you? Are you ready to get the messy monster off your back even a little bit? I can’t cure you. No one can. If they tell you they can they are liars. What I can do is walk alongside you, understand your pain, and search for ways to live fulfilling lives.

Please tell me what you think about this project. I honestly want to hear your thoughts on it.

Oh one more thing, I find a lot of things funny. I had one of my class in stitches Thursday. I was supposed to be giving a presentation and I turned it into a standup routine. I can’t help myself. I love to make people laugh. I didn’t talk about my illness, but I have many times before. There is so much that I have to take with a dose of laughter.

Well, be well my friends

Robin

Bipolar – Please Believe in Me

I’m at the end of one phase of my life and am about to begin another.

I must seem as worried about a job and such as anyone else…

…but I’m not.

I have a mood disorder. If you understand the implications of that then when I tell you I’m not worried like others and that it’s worse, so crippling it destroys me from the inside out.

I cannot tell you about all the emotions that wait to catch me around the neck when I wake in the morning because then they might seize me because running away is not easily done with hysterical tears choking my vision.

I’m going to graduate. I’m 55 and I’m terrified.

My brain, in the past, has not been kind to me.

I wish I could tell you that all will be well, that the friends who snubbed me won’t matter because I will make many more who are mature, understand that life is most often not what it seems and that I will be financially successful and secure and able to help my kids.

I wish I could tell you those things will happen – and so I shall.

I’ve spontaneously been saying to this people when they ask how I am —

At this moment, at this precise second, at this exact instant in time I’m doing very well. In fact, I’m doing awesome!

Can you imagine it? A lone middle-aged woman with no job and not much chance of one, A graduate. A degree. Bonkers. Can you see me?

I’ve never had a job that lasted more than a year except for when I worked for myself. Imagine with me, that I have amassed all that is my life, both past and what is still to come…and now feel the certainty of the word “failure” burning across my forehead.

It isn’t the truth. It’s a screwed up bipolar lie. The intensity that is me is huge and is ready – no matter what may come, to really see who I am.

I have a really crappy mega mood disorder, but, but…

— at this exact moment in time I’m good, I’m really good.

How are you? Right now? Precisely at this instance?

Be well my friends,

Robin

— at this exact moment in time I’m good, I’m really good

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Grass – A Very Short Story

Smoking CannibisThis is an assignment we had in class Tuesday.

WRITING PROMPT: Some people might think it strange that I like…..

Some people might think it strange that I like grass. Yep. That’s what I said.

Maya, a fellow student, said that this isn’t such surprising. After all, I was raised on a ranch. You know, we had horses. Horses love grass. So no. Not surprising that I like grass.

It was May 18, 1980, and I was a year away from graduating, from high school. Today it’s May 22, 2018, and I’m about to graduate again. This time it will be from the university.

You know what binds these two important events together? Grass. Green, green grass. I love grass… for the horses that is.

Grass was so illegal back then. Eighteen years ago the only news events that I recall were the local Carbone Family weed bust and mountain St. Helens here in Washington State blowing up.

Today I find I’m still involved with grass, again. Green, green grass. All grass starts out green, but eventually its able to be used.

Best conversation I ever had was with my son… and grass. Yep grass, green, green grass. He was so mellow. So honest and likable. I love grass.

Horses… kids… grass, green, green grass. Yes, starts out green, but when its ready it changes and it’s ready to give my son and I more chances to have honest, loving chats.

Some might think it strange, that I love grass, yep, I love me some green, green grass.

[This is from a prompt in my Advanced Fiction Writing class at UWT in the spring of 2018, my last quarter before graduating. Not a great bit of writing, but it was done in less than ten minutes and it got a lot of laughter and clapping.]

Bipolar – Letting Go. The Great Pause of a Moment in My Mind – Peace

www.youtube.com/watch {Please watch this short music video so you can get the gist of what I’m relating to you.}

Sometimes, I remember that moments of peace I experience are often when I’m outside of my head.

Perhaps you’ve never seen a video like this before. The first time through for me I just watched. Then I played it again and again. I closed my eyes and let go of all the thoughts that had been overwhelming me. I let the sounds that I heard, unfamiliar as they were, snuff out the ever present junk… that Bipolar junk.

Whether it is this video or some other, find one that you can abandon yourself in. Try something without lyrics. The words will only guide you and keep the constant brain usage, the chatter, at maximum, just like I always do.

I went outside without my phone, tablet, book, or laptop today. There was no human to talk to. It was just Bailey and I and a few flies. No one mowed, destroyed weeds with a buzz saw or played their bloody music at all.

It was amazing. Stunning. I stopped. Peace. This must be real peace.

Twice today I experienced genuine peace in my Bipolar, ADHD, PTSD, anxiety riddled mind and I fell in love with it.

No drugs or talk therapy. Simply stopping. Simply unplugging. Simply letting go.

Give it a try and see if you can touch your bit of peace. Try for it. As full of bananas as my brain is, I found it. I bet you can too. Now, stop everything from bugging you for five tiny minutes, and let the peace break in on the reliable back, of music.

Bipolar – Stoned Siblings

I just got off the phone with my youngest child and I’m heartbroken.

He says he tells people all the time what a badass I am. He’s a psych major and he now understands a tiny bit of what it must have taken for me to raise three kids with my illness. He tells people how I raised them sick and even had a knee replacement, twice. It’s a good story to tell people to get them to buck-up. He tells them to get over themselves. Look what my mom did.

He was telling how great it has been lately for him when he spends time with his brother. They’ve been bonding, getting stoned, hanging out. (We’re in WA and it’s legal here.)

I was crushed.

I’m a mom. A parent. I’m weird… but I’m a parent. I’ve always pushed myself to be the best parent I could be. Suddenly, again, I feel like I failed. It doesn’t make any sense I suppose. It doesn’t really have to because I know how I feel and I FEEL like I failed them.

I know I’m being emotional. I am emotion. Always emotion.

I feel like I failed my babies. Why? Things have been going pretty well. They’ve been bonding when they’re high. Okay. Okay. I feel, like I failed them because they have to be high to bond. To relax around each other they’ve got to be stoned. So what. So what?

I was just having a great conversation with him on the phone. The longer we talked the more I realized that he was being the most relaxed talking with me that he’s been in a long time. Awesome! Right? Right.

I’m a good parent. I know I am. But –

Why do my kids have to be stoned to be loving?

It isn’t a big deal. It’s legal.

But why do they have to be stoned? Why stoned? Why?

I’m going to bed. I’m too tired to handle this. I can’t do effective damage control in my brain trying not to blame myself when I’m tired. I am blaming myself. I don’t feel like I did a good job raising them if they have to be stoned to be good people to each other, to me.

Again, I feel like I failed.

Should I get stoned too?

No…. not more drugs. Not stoned. Not me. I just can’t do that.

Bipolar – You’re Freaking Insane!

Today, I’m not insane. I trust that since you’re reading this that you aren’t either.

There are people though – I just- I just have to reconsider what insanity is. I FEEL it in my ever so raw emotions, the there are way more nuts 🥜 around us than we realize.

I think, that when someone loses touch with reality they’re psychotic. Good nuff? That’s not being insane.

My phone ☎️ just told me that insanity is the state of being seriously mentally ill. And Madness, is the state of being mentally ill, especially severely.

What was that?

Let’s break it down to today, and to one moment during this day. This might be a reach, but bear with me.

I believe, with my blessed bipolar and somewhat of an authority on mental illness brain, that there are a more ways one can be “insane” than by those ways we’ve been taught and told.

Example. Full disclosure-this Professor 🤓 in no way has my respect and I would love it if he hadn’t just made tenure.

Now, the example. I’ve never approved of his teaching methods. He lets the class of people who can’t write, critique each other’s stories. He sits there and says stuff that … blah blah blah. Okay. He read everyone’s first short story this term. Then he selected a book of short stories based on what he saw when he read those stories. So each student was assigned a collection to read, then do a presentation on, of the book he specially selected for us. He waited, until well after he read them to assign them. We were led to believe that our particular book was just for us and it would actually fill a void in our training,

Right. Nothing crazy, right?

I bought my book and have been trying to read it. . . . I don’t have any clue what is going on and frankly, I don’t care to know. It’s bonkers. I wrote him an email asking for guidance.

No reply. So today after we workshopped and he sat there reading email for the entire class, I asked him about my book. Does he know anything helpful about the book? Never heard of it. (Excuse me?) Do you know anything about the author? Nope. (Beg pardon?)

I have just spent three long, very difficult, mentally, and emotionally and stressfully and often painful years PAYING for this tenured Professor 👩‍🏫 to assign me something for my final senior project, something my dog could have done a better job picking.

Insanity? Robin, where’s the insanity? That’s just the way things are.

Yep. That’s right. I owe thousands upon thousands of dollars, to be unprepared to be employed.

That’s the way things just are. Forget about it. There isn’t anything you can do. You can’t change anything.

And that’s…… what’s insane.

Anyone expecting me to accept the illogical as what is normal I will tell tell them to their foolish face that they are insane – not me. Not you.

I believe, that expecting others to accept lies and the illogical as as truth are insane… damn bonkers.

I’m a lot of things and sometimes I’m not always kind or think before I speak, but I never tell people that things will never change, that they will never change, or that they will never change things.

This is possibly unfair of me, but I’m mad so I ask you to judge me kindly, I am calling this professor out. I believe he has behaved in an irrational and insane manner. I do not believes he has earned the job based on the three years I’ve had classes with him.

We can’t accept it when people tell us things like student loans are going to get us a job. We can’t accept it when professional teachers take our money then don’t train us.

Ok, so I’m mad. I’m even admittedly pissy. But I believe things can Change. I believe professors can really train us, teach us to be great at something.

I’m not insane today. Nor was I yesterday. Next week? Dunno. But by all the stars in the heavens above don’t ever, don’t never, tell me things can’t change. Or that I can’t change.

That’s insane. Just plain insane.

How do you feel about it? Is sanity something more than how our brain is behaving in a moment? Is it possibly claiming not to have a mental illness and yet purposely living one’s whole life in an illusion?

In any case, things can change, they always do. And we can change, and we always will.

Be well my friends

Robin

Bipolar – The Truth About Emotions

I have Mixed-State Bipolar Type 1. Last December I finally admitted I was having random urges to seriously hurt myself. Over the years I’ve felt that way a lot. I did finally tell my counselor about it. Now, of course, it is in my records. But I was that scared.

My stress and anxieties have been getting hotter and higher over the last few days. Yesterday my son Kyle had his roommate help him move the rest of his sister (my daughter Jessica) move the rest of her things into my tiny house. I think we’ll be fine together.

The truth about Bipolar Type 1 emotions is their severity and extreme mania. I’m not going to list the details for you right now. I’m just so MAD that a second kid, 22 years, has told me he’s got Bipolar 2 and he has to take drugs for it every day or it would be bad for him and that (and I’m not lying about this part) he was incredibly brilliant and could think of things that no one else could. His Bipolar was a gift and he was embracing it because it does so much for making him creative. He would die if he didn’t take his pills. I swear the boy was telling me he has bipolar and he might have been high.

I, being offended as I was, asked him some more about it. He said that if he didn’t take his two pills a day something bad would happen because you know he gets manic, really revved up, and psychotic too.

With my teeth clenched I instructed him that that didn’t sound like Bipolar Type 1. Oh, did I mention he changed to that after I challenged him on some of his symptoms? Yeah, apparently you can change what type you have depending on who you’re trying to impress.

I’m not having it anymore.

The day before that another 22 something told me she wouldn’t have kids because she wouldn’t want anyone else to come into this world because of her and “have this shit.”  – She knows I have three kids.

Then yesterday those damn little micro “I wanna hurt myself” crappy thoughts started up. I was angry.

Tonight I’m angry again. I’ve been angry all week it seems. I’m angry because of a seemingly small thing. That’s the way it is with Bipolar people… we experience overly intense emotions. Have you ever noticed that?

Well, when the boys moved Jessica’s stuff in someone moved the giant flashlight I take the dog out to do her business at night with. I couldn’t find it. I was immediate, pardon me, pissed. My dog thinks small flashlights are lasers and need to be chased. So, I had to do a small one. Then I found a poo from earlier. Jess marks them for me in various interesting ways. I was picking that up with my whimmpey flashlight, hiding it from Bailey. And then….. I missed where she just went.

I am always the one who steps in it. I have no idea where it is.

Silly reason to be angry? Normally. When I’m acting and feeling what I consider is normal for myself. Tonight. I’m just angry. I did think of hurting myself. Then it was gone, suddenly hiding back into the neurons of my mind.

Exhausting. Extreme emotions are so exhausting.

So that’s the truth, according to Robin, about Bipolar Emotions. They exist. They are mysterious. They don’t always act in ways one would want them to.

Yeah. That’s the troublesome side of the coin. But you know what? There is another side. Maybe another time.