Mania

What I Learned About My Body This Week

/ Robin / Leave a comment

(aka: The Week My Skeleton Filed a Formal Complaint)

Good morning.

How are you all today?

I hope this finds you better than a lot of people are. And if you are having a good day, don’t feel bad about it. Tomorrow might be your turn to struggle, so if today is good, take the win. Thank the universe for it. Glory in it. Use that energy. Get some rest. You never know what tomorrow is going to bring.

As for me, I’ve had a morning.

I woke up sometime after three. Maybe two. Maybe four. Definitely not five. One of those hours when the world is quiet and your brain decides that now would be a perfect time to wake up and start thinking about everything.

But here’s the thing.

Despite all that, I decided I’m having a good day.

I walked in the rain. I had a cup of coffee. I’m about to do my occupational therapy for my arm and hand. And after that I’m probably going to take a nap.

That counts as a good day.

Of course, my body and I have been having a rather intense conversation lately.

It all started when I fell on January 31 and broke my right arm. A radial fracture, which is doctor language for “this is going to be annoying for quite a while.”

During the ER visit, my muscles decided to join the party by going into severe spasms, which forced my hand into what can only be described as a claw. I responded by screaming. Every single time the spastic cramping tried to snap my hand off I screamed.

Not metaphorically. Can you scream metaphorically? Huh. I’ll have to think about that. Still, my hand struggled and pulled and drove me to screaming again and again while making a literally a claw. Imagine a hand sized turkey foot, which is a claw and I happen to be a Robin who does not happen to have a claw. Not normally. If you heard the scream you’d see the claw.

Evolution? Hardly. Jumping ahead a few hours I asked the “nice” doctor if I could have something for the screaming because he was trying to discharge me while I was still screaming and never mentioned the claw or the screaming.

The ass-hat with the medical degree asked me if I wanted a Valium. He seriously could have stopped me screaming, which I’d been doing for HOURS, with a chill pill? Was he serious? Why? Why!?

Back to our story…

This was not ideal, especially considering I’m right-handed and typing is one of the things I do most in the world. I even buy a smaller sized keyboard for my PC just so my short fingers don’t have to get up and jump so far around to find the next key.  So naturally the universe decided this would be a good time to run a series of medical tests and scans to see what else might be going on.

And that’s when things got interesting.

Since breaking my arm, I’ve had what I can only describe as a parade of imaging technology.

Here’s the current list.

Injuries and Events

• Fell on January 31, 2026 and broke my right arm
• Severe muscle spasms during the ER visit forcing my hand into a painful claw
• Ongoing pain in both legs and lower body since the fall

Hand and Joint Imaging

• Left hand X-ray – no fracture or dislocation found
• Significant pain in the finger joint despite the clear X-ray

Which is one of those moments where modern medicine says, “Nothing is wrong,” while your body says, “Oh really? Because I disagree.”

Then came the spine MRI. Why was I having one of those? Because I’d had a full spine X-ray recently and it showed a bunch of sticks and kindling and someone wanted to investigate further to see if aliens were using it to communicate in code or something cool like that. You never know. I’ve had sever lower back pain since my teens and finally a doctor decided to look at the weird looking things commonly known as “bones.”

This is the part where they slide you into a machine that sounds like someone is building a washing machine factory around your head.

The results:

• Disc bulges at several levels in the lower back
• Disc protrusion at L3–L4
• Mild narrowing of the spinal canal and nerve openings
• Changes in spinal curvature between L4 and S1
• Mild spinal canal narrowing at L4–L5

Apparently these are the areas where nerves travel down into the legs.

Which may explain why my lower body has been staging a protest.

But wait.

There’s more.

While they were examining my spine, the MRI casually discovered something else entirely.

They found a small exophytic mass on my right kidney. “Exophytic” is a weird word, isn’t it? I always thought that the word “mass” was the word to worry about. I’m sure you know what I mean. Is this like one of those alien monsters that burst out of your chest after growing to the size of a small pit bull?

Which was not what anyone was looking for, but there it was anyway, waving hello in the scan.

So now a kidney ultrasound has been ordered to figure out what exactly that is.

Modern imaging technology is very thorough. Sometimes a little too thorough. And just to make things extra festive, we’re also mixing in a few long-standing health factors:

• Rheumatoid arthritis
• Fibromyalgia
• Ostioarthritis
• Sleep Apena
• Panic Disorder
• Hypothyroidism
• ADHD
• Rheumatoid arthritis
• Bipolar Disorder Type 1
• Recent fall trauma
• Total Knee Replacement
• Partial Knee Revision
• Total Knee Replacement
• A broken arm that still hasn’t gotten the memo that I have things to do
• Stop writing! Novel writing happens elsewhere. Not here. -Right! Stopping.

In short, my body and modern imaging technology have been having a very honest conversation this week, and I’ve apparently been invited.

Despite all the strange exotic lumps, the pain and exhaustion, regardless of… I forget again. Wait! The important part. I remember that now. Here it is:

I’m still here. Ain’t no doubt about that. And I’m not going anywhere and you can count on that.

I walked Bailey in the rain this morning. I had coffee. I’m going to do my occupational therapy exercises, and then I’m probably going to take a nap. Healing broken bones is exhausting. This is my second radial head fracture or something like that in the last few years. I’ve gone all my life falling out of forts and off horses, and I finally break stuff when I’m too heavy and out of shape. Talk about bad timing.

And I’ve decided something: I’m the only one who gets to decide whether I’m having a good day.

I asked myself the question: “Am I having a good day?”

And the answer, sometimes surprisingly, is yes. Yes, everything is fine.

Friends, you all have a great day.

And sometime during your day remember to ask yourself: “Am I having a good day?“

Then go have one. Today is never too late to decide to have a good day until it’s tomorrow.

Peace to you all.

Reach out if you want to say hi. I’d love to hear from you.
Honestly, I really do love hearing from each of you.

P.S. I’ve been working on revamping the blog, and while I’m not finished yet, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the new look so far. Since we started adding the cartoon illustrations and have finally completed those for this post, I also decided to create a new header. From now on, you’ll be greeted by me, my son Kyle, Bailey—my Kelpie dog—and Savvy, the amazing cat/dog who truly believes that Bailey is her mom, along with a cozy blanket and my nose warmer.

Bipolar – There’s Manic, Then, Then There’s Really Manic!

/ Robin / 2 Comments

I started seeing a new counselor this last Friday. So far so good. Straight away, I told her I felt I was a handful because I am. Then I explained what my med provider had as my diagnoses and what my counselor had. The previous counselor only had Bipolar 1 listed. That’s it. The med provider had much more. The most significant of which, and what I want to mention today, are Bipolar 1 with a PhD in mania, mixed states, and rapid cycling, and ADHD. We’ll leave the rest out for now.

We started forming a treatment plan, and one of the things I wanted to do was figure out how to stop.

I just want to stop sometimes.

Last week I told people on my mental health team that I feel like my brain is on fire. I couldn’t explain it. It just feels like that. I’m on, I’m manic, I’m thinking, my brain is doing ALL THE TIME. It never ever stops.

My counselor reminded me that the typical pattern for Bipolar is most of the time, the person struggles with depression and the mania only comes around ever so often. It took me 37 minutes to lay out what I thought were the important things she needed to know to get started that she might ask questions about or whatever. I’m sure I missed a ton. But still, 37 minutes. That’s some fast talking, even for me.

In the past, I used to ask my doctors if it was possible to have my adrenilen stuck on all the time. They always said that it wasn’t. I think they were closer to being wrong than right. I am manic 96% of the time. I’m manic right now.

I also have some chronic pain in my sciatic nerve. When it’s hurting, which is every day, and my brain is toying with me, things go to pot pretty fast. Then I get mad. I might become enraged. Then depression pops in for a jig and the pain is magnified, and I can’t stand it. I kick and cry and rock back and forth. I ice and heat and wish I could take something for the pain. I do all my PT, am active and go for walks. Nothing works. It’s a nightmare.

And yet, I’m allowing another potential nightmare to happen on the 17th. I’ve already had my right knee replaced twice (long story). Now, my left thumb joint has to be replaced. JOY!!! Not. I’m scared. Joint replacement isn’t my favorite sport. Nope. Not. Scared. Maybe terrified..

Now, add to that acute mania, and what do you think my brain and my amped-up emotions are doing?

The reason I’m mentioning that I’m nearly all manic is that each one of us is totally unique. The ubiquitous norm is a cycle of depression with less mania. I don’t hold to that norm. I don’t know, maybe you don’t either. Maybe you only become manic once a year or once every two years. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that whether you experience your moods frequently or more slowly, you still need to be prepared for them. Be ready for the good and the bad.

Be ready for the depressed days, the good normal days, and… the manic days. There is so much to learn from each of them.

I get this dog.

Bipolar – Learning to Live with Anxiety

/ Robin / 3 Comments

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Bipolar anxiety is no joke. I already live with a wicked mix of depression and mania and when you add to that general anxiety, well, I feel like I might just be out of luck. I was. For several months the pressure in my brain was so bad that I could hardly talk. I couldn’t get myself to go to the new grocery store near the house I’d just moved into by myself. Week after week I convinced my kids to go to the store with me even though we didn’t live together.

It couldn’t last forever. I knew I’d have to go to the store alone one day soon. None of the counseling was helping. I was walking and playing with my dog. That wasn’t helping. I was eating and cut caffeine out of my diet. Nothing. I took all my meds as prescribed every single day and I stopped taking my Ritalin—just in case it made some small difference. I started trying to meditate and practice mindfulness to no avail.

If you feel like you’re holding on for dear life… you are. Don’t let go. It can get better.

I was at the point where I felt like I couldn’t do it anymore. I was overcome with despair.

I started taking Gabapentin and my symptoms got worse. My face developed Turrets like symptoms. They were violent and I was biting my tongue and cheeks. I couldn’t talk normally. I was scared. I know that ticks caused by medications can quickly become permanent.

I couldn’t get into see my doctor or my med provider. I was starting a new term in college and I was freaking out. I’m still trying to relearn how to learn. I went to community college some 30 years ago. It’s difficult.

I talked with the triage nurse on the phone since I couldn’t get in to talk to anyone. She told me to stop taking the Gabapentin immediately.

Then the med provider told me to take my chill pill twice a day if I needed to and to go back on the Ritalin at least once a day. Slowly, day by day, and doing all the other things I was already doing to help myself, I started to calm down. The Gabapentin scare really freaked me out. I thought I was losing my last hold on reality. I felt like an alien, unable to breathe the air around me.

I suffer from chronic back pain and I’m see a new pain management doctor now. While all this was going on she was treating me like she was going to take away my pain meds because she thought I was abusing them… which I wasn’t. They just counted the pills wrong. Not my fault. That added a massive amount of stress to me too.

Today I go to the grocery store—when I’m totally out of everything, but at least I go. I’m not freaking out about school, not yet anyway. And I’m finally sleeping a little better.

Then I was in a car accident on my way to a school event. Side swiped. My car is totaled. I like my car. It’s a good car. I know I won’t get enough money from the insurance company to get one as good as this one. Stress. Anxiety. Take a pill. Remember what it feels like to calm down. Never abuse my meds. Especially not my chill pill or my pain pills.

It’s time for me to do homework now. I stress and have anxiety over homework. I’ll take a chill pill and wait for it to work before I sit down to do some serious writing.

Anxiety is like a beast that has already pounced and has its claws plunged clean through you. Believe me when I say that the claws can be removed. It is slow and painful, but it can be done. So don’t give up. There’s hope for you too.

Bipolar – Does It Make Me Stupid?

/ Robin

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Stupid chicken

Am I stupid? Or am I just depressed?

Over the years I’ve said that I feel like I’m dumber than I was when I was younger. The older I was getting, the stupider I felt. I was honestly concerned that this was a part of the natural aging process and was happening to me early or a part of Bipolar Disorder. Maybe over time Bipolar Disorder destroyed the brain and I was naturally losing my ability to think because that was something that came with the illness.

Felt.

Years later I learned that the way I felt had nothing to do with my intelligence. I have a mood disorder, not an IQ killer.

I wasn’t becoming mentally challenged. It was all about moods. Not intelligence.

Intelligence.

Mood disorder.

Not the same.

The way I thought about it was with violence. I was so angry and frustrated that I couldn’t think things through. I made bad decision after bad decision. I “felt” stupider. That’s key with our Bipolar Disorder. We can feel stupid. (If you don’t ever feel dumber, you can skip this post.) If you have, keep reading because it is important that you understand what’s going on in your brain.

We have what is known as a mood disorder. That is, we have moods that are extreme and can fluctuate wildly compared to a regular person. Instead of being sad, we become extremely depressed. Instead of being angry, we become enraged. Instead of being excited, we become manic.

These mood fluctuations and extremes impact the way we think. They don’t make us stupid, but we can feel that way. The moods interfere with the way we think.

People tell us to think positively, things will be okay. Unfortunately, the weight of depression can prevent us from feeling like we can think at all, much less think positively.

When I first heard of Tony Robbins, success coach and public speaker, I tried out one of his 30-day programs designed to teach me to be successful. All I had to do was follow the directions spelled out on the card that went with each day and listen to the 30-minute tape that went with it.

The program challenged me to change my thinking. That was the basis of the program, change your thinking to be successful. I was depressed. I didn’t feel like I could do it. So, I quit. I felt like I was too stupid to understand the lessons. That had to be what was wrong. It never occurred to me that my illness could be impacting my ability to think clearly and keeping me from focusing on the lessons and understanding what Mr. Robbins was teaching. I’ve gone back to Mr. Robbins teachings recently and discovered that I understand him just fine. I wasn’t depressed this time. I was able to understand what he taught and use some of the principles he presented.

I’m not stupid.

I have a mood disorder.

If you have a mood disorder, please understand that it does not mean you are dumb.

I don’t know how intelligent you are or are not. I do know that Bipolar Disorder does not make you less intelligent.

Bipolar Disorder does not make you dumb.

It is a mood disorder, not a brain eater.

Why Do We See Therapists?

/ Robin / 2 Comments

Lucy Therapist

In my experience therapists and counselors are working there to work with me to help me get through the day, the month, and even the year especially in the midst of a depressive episode. They are there to try to teach me how to handle my episodes. They meet with me to teach me how to work with medicines for treatment, to use self-management methods to deal with mood cycles that always plague me, and to teach me how to function better in both work, family, and other real world settings.

Therapists help me learn what to do when I’m depressed, which is difficult to do when I’m depressed. It’s so hard to be objective about whether my medications are working when I feel like I need more of everything or something new when what I really need is a little tweak in dosage or patience to let a new medication have a chance to work.

They try to help me see myself for who I am beyond my illness and to work with me when I’m manic and have delusions of grandeur. I admit it’s hard for me to listen to them when I know I’m right about everything. I have a friend that also suffers from severe mental illness, she has found the same problem that I have found, that when we’re manic it is difficult to find a therapist that you respect enough to listen to.

For the last year I’ve been lucky enough to have a therapist that I respected me and I think knew me fairly well. She was always supportive and encouraged me to believe in myself. She never let me bamboozle my way through when I was trying to get away with acting badly.

She just retired so I start with a new one in a few weeks. I’m hoping that I’m humble enough to believe that she has something to offer me. Otherwise I’ll go and sit there for an hour and think about how dumb she is while were talking. Has anyone else experienced anything like this?

Because I’m on disability I have very few choices on where I can go for treatment. I think, I hope, I’m going to the better of my two choices. Unfortunately I’ve gone through four therapists and am soon to see my fifth at this place. Two retired, one went into private practice and I fired the other. Sometimes you have to take drastic measures like firing the therapist to make sure I get the help I need. The reason I did was that she was really new to the job and she kept reading to me from her computer and printing out things for me to take home to read. We didn’t have any dialogue. I made the hard call and asked for a new therapist. I’ve never had the courage to do that before.

My new therapist’s name is Rebecca. I’m already working on my attitude and trying to prepare myself to be open to her being able to help me. I’ve committed myself to not judge her before I even meet her. I need to give her and I a chance to get to know each other and see if she can help me survive and even thrive.

I welcome you to leave your opinion. Do you find that you experience the same things? Or have your experiences been vastly different? I hope to hear from you.

If you’re interested in the books that I refer to the most visit my books page.