I’m doing some major redoing in Redux. Please have patience while I attempt most determinedly to make this baby sing. So to speak.
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 – PRIDE
You I’ve found that my depression tends to cut off my ability to experience and to recognize pride in my kids and myself. Never mind actually saying anything about it to them… when I realize what seems like to late that I should have said something encouraging to them… I freeze. It sucks to have your kid come home and tell you how proud a teacher or counselor is off them. It sucks when you didn’t know you should have been proud of them.
Oh I realize we can’t know everything that’s going on with them, but come on! “Pay attention!” I said to myself.
The last two days I’ve been paying attention to my youngist, Sydney. She’s in Running start and taking classes at the community college (TCC) and SOTA (School of the Arts) and was hired by the business she interned for AND today was made coordinator the the students, businesses and screening… and placing the new interns along with recruiting new interns.
WOW right? I don’t yet know how it will all work out but her brother and I are going to give her as much support as we can.
This morning I was so positive. I believed I could complete all the projects I’ve started over the last 15 years. They’re good projects and worthy of my hard work to complete them.
Then I picked up Sydney after my physical therapy (PT) on my lower back. I picked her up and it seemed to me that she again shot some things I told her I was thinking about in the face.
I crumpled. My amazing up beat attitude and hard work I’d done all day left me and I was filled with anger and resentment.
Stay tuned and I’ll share with you in my next letter what happened. It was a humdinger.
Good night my friends. Talk to you real soon.
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I’m so proud!
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 – Weird Parent # 5 0 3 0c25
Yeah, I’ve no idea what the letters mean too. Gibberish. But, that’s what I want to say to you today.
“Gibberish”
My youngest daughter has a favorite saying and I’d like to quote her here: “It’s that moment when…” Yesterday I thought about that and I realize how she realizes things. Bear with me here. I’ve finally had my own really huge moment….
It’s that moment when I realize I’ve been doing my next project when I should be finishing the one I started 14 (FOURTEEN) years ago.
And so this is just what I have to say in this note to you. If you feel like something just isn’t right stand back, relax, let your mind wander, look for your passion. Not your obsession. Not your mania of the moment. Not the object of your freaked out depression. Search your heart and your mind and maybe your soul (if you believe in the soul) and see if maybe you’re banging your head against the wall, because you turned left or right and got totally off the desire of your heart. Your burning desire. Your goal. What is it?
Got no idea? We’ll talk about this in another note. But for now, consider this, what the hell are you doing?
Be well and I’ll see you soon. I have to check on the obsession I just printed.
Confused?
As always, comments and notes are so very appreciated. Robin
