I Am a Bipolar Parent – Pissy

/ Robin

Hi everyone.

I chose the title “I am a Bipolar Parent – Pissy” because while BP is what I am, who I am, what I have, whatever, I am a parent first.

I am a divorced and still single BP woman. I am Type 1 (the messy type) and I exist in the mixed state perpetually. When not being a good and balanced mom, I’m super pissy. When I’m depressed and throwing things or want to get off the world and I’m manic and talk forever and shout a lot.

I’ve raised my children (I’ve counted them… there are three) alone and unemployed. I’ve stay unemployed because I simply couldn’t handle working. I’ve never lasted more than a year in any job. I did have my own company for a while. It was wonderful and I loved it. I was more manic than depressed at that time so I was able to crush all adversity into dust.

People around me kept telling mi I was a great parent. Now, years later, I look back and am broken hearted. I see that I wasn’t an amazing parent. I see what damage I’ve done to my babies who are now 22, 19 and 17. My youngest especially has explained to me through who she believes she is and remembers from her childhood, that I pulled them into my emotional and mental poverty with her especially being damaged.

Damaged. I suppose I wasn’t such a great parent. I was relatively stable (I’m lying) during the first two kids’ early years. When it came to my youngest I see that I was consumed by my business. It made me feel alive for the first time in years. Unfortunately, I left her in the dust of my being consumed. She’s had a hard time.

My baby says she’s been raised in a shit hole and feels like others have “families” while she did not. Their father has been out of the picture for most of her life. That, has been his choice. It gave her a primary target for her anger, her hatred.

Now I am learning so many things about her and what she remembers. She doesn’t remember any good times.

I remember the good times. So do the older too. She feels . . . cheated I think.

I’ll tell you more about this soon. Instead of lamenting all my woes of being a crappy mom, I’m going to tell you how I became a good mom. Maybe even a great mom. I became a “weird parent”. Check back soon to see what I mean.

Bipolar 1, ADHD, FM, PTSD, Anxiety, Chronic Pain, OA – Now What??

/ Robin

If I’d started my blog off listing all my bits of my alphabet you might have clicked off and dismissed me as a hypochondriac. Personally, I might have too. However, the fun facts pile continuously up and I wonder if I might be much older than my drivers license says I am.

I’m 51 degrees old. Wait. 51 years old. Yes, that’s it. I think it’s time I leveled with you and give you my “medical” life. I am much more than my medical stuff. I’ve had my right knee replaced twice – in just two years. I know, that’s very young to even have it done once, but twice on the same knee… Skip that. Here’s a “brief” list. Each item is a medically real thing for me.

Bipolar 1
ADHD
FM
PTSD
Anxiety
Chronic Pain
Degenerative Disk Disorder
OA
2 Total Knee Replacements
Cataracts
Allergies – environmental, biological and food
Depression
Manic
Stress – Excessive
Obsess
Asthma
Dentures – Full

I’ve also had a ruptured appendix, broken ankle, blood clots, carpal tunnel syndrome, rage… I think you get the idea.

Over the last couple of months I’ve thought I’ve been falling asleep while driving. It freaks the freak out of me. No matter what I do I don’t seem able to prevent it. I even pull over and try to nap just so I can complete a 40 minute drive home. I’m not able to nap when I pull off the road. I try. No go. I can sleep in a parking lot when I’m too tired to drive, but it’s not working now. I sing, I scream, I pound my feet on the floor, I hit my steering wheel… Nothing helps.

It’s very scary. No, it terrifies me. Suddenly I’m about to rear end another car or find myself drifting to one side or the other. I’ve been asking my health care people what it could be. I eventually got around to my pain management specialist. I described it to her and asked if she thought it might be any of my many medications. Like my med provider, she didn’t think so. She wanted to know if I was born prematurely. Nope. Seizures? Nada.

Michelle, the pain specialist, asked if I could describe what happens as a “loss of time”. Maybe I’m not really falling asleep. Maybe I’m just losing time and tune back in just seconds later. Do I remember actually falling asleep or feeling sleepy. No. I’ve even tried coming home and trying to sleep. Not sleepy. No naps.

She sent me home charging me with looking into Absence Seizures. She knows I love to research stuff. I appreciate that she lets me learn and talk with her about my health care. I have read a bit about Absence Seizures. I think she might be right. Before I left she agreed she would get me in to see a neurologist she likes to use in a city about an hour from here. I’m going to have an EEG to see what’s going on.

New bipolar med on Wednesday… Friday a possible new diagnosis to add to my alphabet soup. Know what I keep thinking?

… Well shit.

Lamictal – Continuing Adventures

/ Robin

I harbored no illusions that my renewed increased dosage of Lamictal was magical nor that it was certainly going to last and I was very correct, but let me explain the bizarre circumstances of how I was provoked to remember this fact.

Saturday … sorry, gotta finish later.

Reduce – Do Over? Hope not.

/ Robin

This is a quick summary of my day.

We stopped at my Med provider who quickly added Latuda to my 400 MG Lamictal and changed my chill pill back to Diazapam. (It doesn’t kick my butt so badly.)

The day moved from fun to 100% stress to terror to worry and back around again. I’m completely spent. Rundown.  The drive was different but as heavy as expected.  The Espionage Exhibition was cool. Sydney got sick and had to leave. No restrooms are in the thing. I’d been really wanting to see the Espionage Exhibition at the Seattle Science Center for months. We needed to leave early and brave traffic once again because she was sick. 40 minutes from home. I did this curious newish thing I’ve started doing driving home. For an instant,  my brain shuts off and it’s like I’m asleep. It freaks me out! I sing and yell and have people talk to me and nothing helps. It’s very, very scary.  I had Kyle drive the last 30 minutes home.

We arrived home to our puppy and I freaked out (ok, maybe not quite). Bailey,  my 6 month old Heeler and companion dog in training, wasn’t waiting for us at the top of the stairs. I was very concerned. She always does. Always. She came around the corner with a pretty big heater vent hanging from her collar. OMG! At first I froze.  I thought she was choking.  She’s okay.  It stressed her and Sydney and I out. Kyle came in after it was off and laughed. What else could he do?

Earlier in the day Sydney had explained to Jane why she was wanting to kill me lately. That’s when she changed my meds. Fast forward again to after we helped Bailey… I slammed the microwave door heating my dinner. Before I became more belligerent I took my food to my room, ate and took my meds with a chill pill. Now my puppy, my companion dog to be, is passed out next to me on my bed.

I got to tell Jessica,  my 22 year old who is off in the Air Force,  about my day. I’ve calmed down. Now my back is lighting up. Time for a painkiller. 

Wow! I didn’t expect my day to play out like this. I managed to maintain much better than I expected. But, I’m so thankful for my chill pill. Boy am I ever!

I am most thankful though,  for my kids. They are so incredible!

Chillin’ in Seattle or What?

/ Robin

It’s 9:30 am and I’m waiting to do in to see my med provider before heading to Seattle with my son (19) and daughter (17) for the day. I’m still not up to a satisfactory dosage of my Lamictal yet and this chill pill I take sometimes kicks my butt too much. Wanna chill, not sleep while driving. .. the next day.

I’m still talking way too much and too fast. It, I, annoy the kids to death. The don’t bother to talk. I do it for everyone.

I feel shame and I grieve for the things I miss they might have shared while I rambled on and on about…?

I’ve made Syd come in with me. I bother her the most. My med provider (Jane) and I don’t communicate well and I’m bad enough that I really need her to understand what is meant when she says she wants to kill me. That needs to stop.

I’ll let you know how it all turns out.