Tag Archives: Bipolar type 1

Bipolar and the Spam Man – When Anger Threatens to Pop Your Brain

As a person with Bipolar Disorder (Type 1) I have always considered my anger as a considerable problem, even a terrible liability. But you know what? I had a moment today when I harnessed that power and made it a defense, perhaps even a weapon. 

I don’t know for certain that the same uninvited man called me today, but he sounded like it. The background noise was considerable. I could hear other calls being made that sounded exactly like what the man had just said to me. It was like last week. Last week! In a four hour period the same man called me ten, TEN times. 10 TIMES!

This time I started off with:

“No, you may not speak to Robin. Who are you and what do you want?” 

“Eh, is Robin there please?”

“No. You may not speak to her. What do you want?”

“I’m calling from Website Design… blah, blah.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you. You sound like you’re calling from a boiler room.” (I don’t think he knows what a boiler room is.) 

He stopped talking for a second and I struck like a crow stealing food from the middle of our road. Crows remember stuff. Did you know that? I mean, never throw a shoe at one or send your dog after it. Those eyes… yikes!

“Do not call again. Do you understand? Not again. Not ever. Do not call again.” I took a breath just to let him digest that a wee tiny bit, but not too much of a bit. “Do you hear what I’m saying to you? You will not call me again. Take me off your list and do not call again.”

“Uhhhh…”

“If you call me again I will report you to the FCC. Do you understand? Do not, do NOT call again. Am I being clear? Do NOT call again. You will not call me again.”

I hung up. Okay, honestly, I may have repeated myself a few more times. 

Damn that felt good. Using my “I’m really pissed off and not having it anymore,” voice at a specific person felt so nice! Yeah, yeah, he was just doing his job. Look, just take me off the list. Last week I told him I was going to come find him if he called again and smack him. 

I have a temper. Yep. A temper. Today, my anger was my own and I put it to use. It did not rule me. Today I told someone where  to get off, concisely, specifically, very firmly. If I were him, I wouldn’t call again. I’d delete Robin from the call list. 

I will answer if “robocall” does call again using any of the variety of numbers that have been used. Seriously, ten calls? Amazing, right? I will answer and I will honestly, earnestly and very firmly use my words to defend my privacy and myself. 

There are ways we can feel and be more in control of ourselves and our lives. This is one tiny example of how I’ve reclaimed my power. 

I know that sometimes those kinds of things can make us feel like victims. We can become afraid of answering our own phones. The spam filters don’t always work. We don’t have to tolerate that kind of stupid stuff. Without swearing, without yelling, I expressed the anger that I felt. Holy bananas that felt so nice! 

Don’t feel like you can’t say anything when people step on you. Speak up. Be firm. Be polite. Stand your ground and be proud. We must stand for ourselves. Today, and last week, I assumed command of my expensive phone and phone service. I called my phone carrier last week and she told me that honestly they really can’t do anything more than let my phone tell me it’s probably spam. Seriously? 

Go ahead and call me morons. Get paid to annoy me. I shall annoy you back. Hopefully my “mental illness” will reach you and scare the poo out of you. Be afraid of who you call next. Let’s get personal. I dare you. 

My Bipolar Brain is the Not the Typical Brain. Is Yours?

Mood swing in 6 minutes

Today began, as most days do, with the Anxiety Monster meeting me as I swung my feet off the bed. So far so good. So far so good, right? Looks sunny outside. Bonus!

I found Jessica eating oatmeal (barf) at the kitchen table, getting ready for work. Immediately I wanted to nag at her. I wanted to ask, beg her to do some of the “very important” things on my “anxiety” list. I started to do that. I wanted to try to “get” her to fix the anxiety-inducing things. Some things on the list are legit, really truly legit I tell you, and the kids (Jessica and Kyle) should do. In my incredibly stressed-out brain, I’m of the opinion that they ought to do them. They don’t.

I honestly don’t want, and I don’t mean, to send any of my kids off and into the world (You know what I mean. For example, going to work.)  after I’ve driven, their stress levels up. I don’t “want” to make them not want to spend time with me. {Maya, was that a double negative? That’s what I was shooting for.} It’s especially important because we actually live together. Like actually in the same house. On the same couch, sharing one bathroom, no personal space type living together. No problem. But still, it’s small enough that even what passes for a “normal” family would get on each other’s nerves. But that’s not my point. 

It is not, it is NOT normal to wake up with the Anxiety Monster sucking on my head, stimulating my brain, and switching on my flight… not fight… just flight response. 

Not normal. Not healthy. 

I have a med provider (a psychiatrist who prescribes my medications) and a counselor who works hard with me to help me be “myself.” In other words, we’re not trying to make me (gasp!) “normal” like everyone else. What we are doing is working every day, every single F’ing day, to help me attain my goals. 

Isn’t that weird? I’m not working to better or fit in with “normal” people. I’m working very hard, when I’m able, to put into place as many things stacked in my favor as I can so that I can meet MY GOALS and have a LIFE. Does that make any sense? 

My life needs to be MY life. Not what other people expect of me. This can be very hard when my thoughts are hammered constantly by emotions that are out of control. A stampede. That’s what it feels like. A stampede rushing at me as I run in circles around it winding myself up tighter and tighter with every uh… wind?  

So much of the time I’m paralyzed with anxiety, fear, depression, hopelessness, anger, etcetera. 

What then? How do I pull up before I smack into the fir trees across the street? Fir trees are very big trees and not something to be casually crashed into. Nope. Not good. So, what did (do) I do? Well, the first thing I did was take my meds. Then I had my ritual coffee with sugar, powdered creamer, and liquid French Vanilla Coffee-mate. 

Next, I ate breakfast – a banana and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some water. I then headed for the shower. Bringing Bailey (my trusty dog) with me… okay, honestly, she’s just following me because I always give her a Greenie teeth cleaning bone while she’s waiting. Why? Because she’s my emotional support buddy. Also, I’d flip out if she barked and barked while I was in the shower. So, she comes with and gets her Greenie. 

I grabbed the last (ugg!) clean bath towel from the cupboard and threw it over the top of the shower curtain which immediately attacked me (mumble, mumble, mumble words I shouldn’t put in print). So…. Shower? I’m maybe 5’ 3” on a good day when the atmosphere is causing gravity to take it easy and let me stretch a bit. You know, be a little taller. That’s a thing, yeah? {Yes Robin it is a thing and that ¼” can make all of the difference some days! – Maya}

Small bathroom. Dog taking up most of the floor. Shower curtain everywhere but where it should be and… where’s my bathrobe? Not with me, that’s where. 

And then it was lunchtime. 

I can’t tell you that I’ve figured out how to have a better day or how to stop freaking out all the time. I will be honest and tell you that last week my counselor and I did that test thing that indicates loosely what my current emotional state is. You know, am I moody? Anxious? Depressed? 

I passed with flying colors!! Severely depressed and enough anxiety to make me barf. Literally. 

I have ADHD and I have Bipolar Disorder Type 1. We’ve decided that I’m stuck on being manic pretty much all the time. I mean that. I never stop. I might stop talking, sometimes, but my brain is screaming at me whether I’m talking or not. 

Again, how have I made it through this or any other day?  Firstly, I’ve been writing this all day. I set a timer for 15-20 minutes then dash around cleaning the house, doing the dishes, and housey kinds of things. I play a game or read a book (a page or so). Again, the timer is going. Then I write. Rinse. Repeat. Shake it out. Repeat. Do it all again. Kyle came home, and I took a break. Now I’m back at it. 

Am I depressed? Yes. Am I having stress that shouldn’t be found in a “normal” person? Yes. Am I still alive and able to carry on? Right now? Yes. Over the weekend the answer was no. That’s no with all caps: NO!

Some days it just doesn’t seem to matter what I try to tell my little grey cells. Just won’t listen. Reminds me of a kid of any age. Listening might not happen. 

I try to find a way to maintain, but I want more than to just exist. I want it all. Have I worked out how to have it all? It depends upon what I mean by “all” doesn’t it? And when. And what. And other stuff. Okay, it’s all relevant to whatever. I’m here. I’m pretty satisfied – for the moment. 

Viktor’s light is broken again. He’s staring at me. He’s shedding. Molting? No, that’s chickens. Anyway, life goes on. There are things I HAVE to do. The dog needs to toilet. The fish need to be fed. The cats, all four of them, have to eat. I have to eat.….. and so on…. And so forth. 

I can honestly tell you that for me to make it through the day I take it as it comes. Do what I must. Find something to do that I WANT to do. And goof off. Truly. Goofing off really helps. 

I also have taken my meds. That’s extremely important. TAKE MEDS. A few months ago, my psychiatrist told me to “utilize my chill pill.” I was shocked. The clinic has the policy to try to keep people from becoming addicted to benzos, so we’ve been trying to find ways for me to take fewer each month. Now, during these very additionally stressful times, she wants me to take it. I can take it every day. I do take it every day. Still, I struggle. 

If I can keep my eyes from trying to see what the opposite ear is doing, I’m a happy girl. 

What about you? How have you been doing? Can you identify with anything I’ve shared about my day? If you can, I want you to remember always that you are not alone. Never alone. I, we, others just like you and I, we understand. 

The wrap up:

Managed to shower without getting water everywhere! 

Fed animals and so on. 

Um… what else? (This is where I space out and have to reread everything for the eighty-second time.) Skip it. 

Sometimes it’s best to not worry about stuff and move on. So, I’m moving on and I’m sharing pics of Viktor hungry and Viktor’s dinner as it tried to make a break for it! It didn’t make it. Just sayin’. 

Hold on. Tomorrow will be here soon enough. Dang. I’m rambling. 

“Hey, Maya! Can you make this shorter or something?” (Maya is my awesome friend who thinks I’m funny. I’m not sure if that’s funny looking or funny as in laughing. Oh. I guess I might look funny too. I’ll just leave it as she thinks I’m funny but not funny looking. OMG! Just stop!!!)

{“Robin you have a funny looking brain that makes you HaHa funny, just to be clear. Then again mine is a bit funny looking too. hmmm…”}

I hope you have a safe and day and that I’ll talk with you again soon. Please feel free to leave a comment, go to the contact page and email me or share this post. I would love to hear from you.

Robin

Bipolar and Panic?

Hi, hullo and greetings to y’all!

Wow. Here I am again. I mean “wow” because that’s how things tend to be. I struggled so hard last year to keep my brain together and spending time angry, confused, abandoned and really isolated that it never occurred to me that I was… acting normal.

Yeah, Kind of odd. I know that.

I have an objective, errr… an intent I suppose, to tell you what’s been going on in my head and my life just briefly before I fall asleep. At least that’s the plan. The sleep part is for sure the plan.

I just finished a challenging and possibly lifechanging 10 week webinar course that taught us about how coming together like that in the small group setting to learn about each other and about the particulars of our experiences, what we hoped to learn from the course, and more. I acknowledged that I have ADHD. It was easy to finally feel like I wasn’t a fraud because you know what? Every single other person there has it too.

I feel liberated from those few people who felt that just because I was told that I had these extra letters following close behind the other letters following me, didn’t mean I was trying to be lazy or milk the system. OMG! Milk the system. For what? My monthly stipend of less than $800 a month.

<Do you see how random I’m being? No? I am trying very hard to sound like I’m at least trying to make sense.>

Two things for tonight:

  1. ADHD is a serious learning disability that have a potentially devastating impact on myself and those around me. Worse yet…
  2. Bipolar Type 1 is the name of my little world that has no bounds. I’ve come up against the idea that there is no research or course of treatment suggested when the client has both Bipolar Type 1 and ADHD together.
  3. Sorry, there is a third one after all. If no one knows how to treat both diseases in the same person’s head at the same time… Yeah, I don’t want to go there just now.
  4. Geeze. I’ve been hysterically everyday so far this week. I’m just sure that if anyone were to look into my ears you’d see my brain turning to liquid!

{Remind me to tell you about the breakthrough I had with my bonkers Med Provider and about hysteria just underneath the skin the next time we talk.}

Knowing what I do about Bipolar, and now what I’ve learned about ADHD I think I’m justified in saying that… I’m screwed. <Wait! That should have been in caps… sec.> I’M SCREWED!

Treatment for one can make the other worse and so forth and so on till well after the serpent has eaten its own tail.

It isn’t as though I want to be unemployable. It just happens that this is my reality in the here and now. My shouting at walls to make them move over … now, that sounds silly even to me.

Please pardon me. I’ve been sleeping an hour or so a night then I will eventually fall doing something like sitting straight up or using my laptop or talking. So, then I crash and sleep for two whole days. Why is this such a problem if I’m on disability? That’s way too loaded of a question to talk about while I’m falling asleep. But it will be part of my next visit with you… very soon.

I’ll be posting a link to Eric’s podcast and his webinar soon incase you’re interested. The cool thing was that I found a whole ton of stuff that I could apply from one illness to the other.

Sleep well my friends. Sleep well.

 

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.