With painting, that is. I posted my first in what apparently has turned out to be a series of paintings. I have 3 more completed with the 5th one almost finished. All are vent art of some sort, and all have meaning behind them. I also have inspiration for a 6th. I guess that's the one good thing about depression - it usually inspires me.
As to how I'm doing, I don't know anymore. I was trying to live day by day but that's not working. I truly need to live moment by moment, because my mood can change so rapidly. I might be plugging along, feeling pretty good, and WHAM - sudden mood shift and I feel hopeless and like crying. It's so very frustrating. It's annoying too because I'm doing everything right. I'm eating healthy, working out (religiously), doing my positive readings, NOT isolating myself from friends, taking my meds, going to therapy, utilizing my creative outlet . . .and still the depression hangs on. So I do the only thing I can do - I push on, blindly hoping that things will get better, that I'll find that light at the end of the tunnel.
For my paintings, I'm debating on putting them all in one post, or spacing them out over several. We'll see. At any rate, they'll be up soon.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
When I Fall
I wish I could fly
From this building, from this wall . . .
And if I should try
Would you catch me, if I fall . . .
When I fall . . .
Lyrics from one of my favorite Barenaked Ladies songs, and the inspiration behind my latest vent art. I heard this the other day and an image popped into my head - one so powerful for me, that I nearly started crying in the gym (I was working out when it came on). I had to paint it. It captured so perfectly how I've been feeling - like I'm on the edge looking down, contemplating that final jump. Do I jump? Or do I press on?
It's a simple painting, highly stylized, but it came out exactly how I pictured it. There is symbolism in there, the drab greyish colors represent my mood, that blue balloon, more vibrant than everything else, is depression - at the forefront of everything I do - and the sparrow, my hope, my salvation . . .is it leaving me? Or guiding me?
I had therapy today, and again I cried. I feel so lost and frustrated and hopeless. I feel like nothing is getting better and nothing ever will get better. It's a horrible way to feel. A horrible way to be and to live. I just want the nothingness and the emptiness and the despair to go away. But it doesn't. It hangs on like a stubborn parasite that I'm powerless to shake loose.
M though, he's wonderful. So wonderful. He helped me see that there is hope. I've been through a worse depression than this, and I made it out alright. I'll have good days and bad days, moments of happiness in the midst of the hopelessness. I'm doing everything right. I'm doing what I can and what I should to beat this. There is light at the end of the tunnel, however faint it may be.
I do hope M is right. I hope I feel better. I hope my sparrow is guiding me.
From this building, from this wall . . .
And if I should try
Would you catch me, if I fall . . .
When I fall . . .
Lyrics from one of my favorite Barenaked Ladies songs, and the inspiration behind my latest vent art. I heard this the other day and an image popped into my head - one so powerful for me, that I nearly started crying in the gym (I was working out when it came on). I had to paint it. It captured so perfectly how I've been feeling - like I'm on the edge looking down, contemplating that final jump. Do I jump? Or do I press on?
It's a simple painting, highly stylized, but it came out exactly how I pictured it. There is symbolism in there, the drab greyish colors represent my mood, that blue balloon, more vibrant than everything else, is depression - at the forefront of everything I do - and the sparrow, my hope, my salvation . . .is it leaving me? Or guiding me?
I had therapy today, and again I cried. I feel so lost and frustrated and hopeless. I feel like nothing is getting better and nothing ever will get better. It's a horrible way to feel. A horrible way to be and to live. I just want the nothingness and the emptiness and the despair to go away. But it doesn't. It hangs on like a stubborn parasite that I'm powerless to shake loose.
M though, he's wonderful. So wonderful. He helped me see that there is hope. I've been through a worse depression than this, and I made it out alright. I'll have good days and bad days, moments of happiness in the midst of the hopelessness. I'm doing everything right. I'm doing what I can and what I should to beat this. There is light at the end of the tunnel, however faint it may be.
I do hope M is right. I hope I feel better. I hope my sparrow is guiding me.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
*sigh*
It's been almost a week since I wrote last. Amazing what a lack of motivation and time will do. I've worked 4 of the last 5 days and the day I was off I was lurching around at the Zombie Crawl in Denver. I've wanted to write - I just haven't had a chance to do so.
I don't even know how I feel anymore. The last 2 days I've had some manic symptoms - racing thoughts, pressured speech, word vomit, and the need to move. But it's transient. It comes and goes. I always feel like I could cry at any given moment, for any reason. This low level depression that's now a constant it seems. And my irritability is building again. Slowly gaining steam.
I spend most of my time withdrawn and flat, trying not to engage people. I'm sure I seem irritable and cranky, not myself. I have "good" moments though - moments where I'm more animated, talkative and laughing. Though I've noticed that these moments seem to coincide with my manic symptoms, go figure.
I'm trying not to feel like this. I'm trying to go out of my way to interact, to control my irritability, to keep the manic symptoms in check. I'm trying - desperately. But most of the time I fail. I'm trying to stay positive, look at all the wonderful and good things in my life and remember that the way I'm feeling is because of my bipolar disorder - not me. But most of the time I fail.
I feel as if I'm just floating through my life, too emotionally unstable to actively take part. I'm going through the motions, putting up my false front, and pushing through. Everything's fine, I'm doing fine, nothing's wrong.
If only I could convince myself that.
I don't even know how I feel anymore. The last 2 days I've had some manic symptoms - racing thoughts, pressured speech, word vomit, and the need to move. But it's transient. It comes and goes. I always feel like I could cry at any given moment, for any reason. This low level depression that's now a constant it seems. And my irritability is building again. Slowly gaining steam.
I spend most of my time withdrawn and flat, trying not to engage people. I'm sure I seem irritable and cranky, not myself. I have "good" moments though - moments where I'm more animated, talkative and laughing. Though I've noticed that these moments seem to coincide with my manic symptoms, go figure.
I'm trying not to feel like this. I'm trying to go out of my way to interact, to control my irritability, to keep the manic symptoms in check. I'm trying - desperately. But most of the time I fail. I'm trying to stay positive, look at all the wonderful and good things in my life and remember that the way I'm feeling is because of my bipolar disorder - not me. But most of the time I fail.
I feel as if I'm just floating through my life, too emotionally unstable to actively take part. I'm going through the motions, putting up my false front, and pushing through. Everything's fine, I'm doing fine, nothing's wrong.
If only I could convince myself that.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Well now . . .
After my foray into tree destruction on Monday, I can honestly say that my anger - sorry, explosive, uncontrolled rage - is quite a bit better. I still have some irritability, but it's nothing compared to what it was. Not by a long shot.
I worked yesterday and actually had a decent day. I was able to joke a little, laugh, and didn't have to worry about reigning in my irrational anger. A BIG change from the last 2 weeks. I think what I noticed yesterday, and even more so today though, is that the depression is making a comeback BIG TIME. I still feel on the verge of tears at any given time for any given reason. I'm still not motivated to do much of anything. I'm still having thoughts of self harm (luckily not much suicidal ideation, and luckily I have good impulse control right now).
But the thoughts are pervasive and the depressive feelings are only tolerable at best (I almost started crying at the gym when a certain song came on). And, let's be honest, I'm really getting tired of this. I'm so glad the anger has abated - though I know at some point, any point it could come back - but the depression needs to follow. The depression is my downfall.
I'm keeping this short as I don't really have any motivation to write, either. I have a piece of vent art in mind, we'll see what comes of it.
I worked yesterday and actually had a decent day. I was able to joke a little, laugh, and didn't have to worry about reigning in my irrational anger. A BIG change from the last 2 weeks. I think what I noticed yesterday, and even more so today though, is that the depression is making a comeback BIG TIME. I still feel on the verge of tears at any given time for any given reason. I'm still not motivated to do much of anything. I'm still having thoughts of self harm (luckily not much suicidal ideation, and luckily I have good impulse control right now).
But the thoughts are pervasive and the depressive feelings are only tolerable at best (I almost started crying at the gym when a certain song came on). And, let's be honest, I'm really getting tired of this. I'm so glad the anger has abated - though I know at some point, any point it could come back - but the depression needs to follow. The depression is my downfall.
I'm keeping this short as I don't really have any motivation to write, either. I have a piece of vent art in mind, we'll see what comes of it.
Monday, October 15, 2012
I was destructive. . .
In a good way, I suppose. I had therapy today and all I can say is thank God for therapy and for M. I printed out Thursday's post for him to read and we talked about it. A lot. And surprisingly, I cried. I haven't really cried in therapy. Some tears, some times when I came very close, but I always stopped it. M gave me permission, told me it was okay to let it out, and I did. And I felt a little better. We talked about how I was feeling destructive, how I wanted to break and destroy something to get out my frustration. And safe ways to do this. It feels good to be heard and validated.
When I got home, my son, thankfully, went outside to play with his friend. I pulled out this big padded bat (think American Gladiator) and went into the backyard. I hit the side of the house a few times but that didn't do anything for me. But we have some dead trees. And I beat the ever loving shit out of those trees. Branches flying, needles falling, shrubs pounded to the ground. I must have been a sight - me, in a bright pink top and skirt, beating at these trees, tears falling, a snarl on my face, yelling and cussing, repeatedly swinging the bat over and over until I nearly collapse. And then I cried again. This time it was big, ugly sobs, uncontrollable crying.
And it felt pretty good. I felt more cleansed. M was right. I needed to do that. I needed a physical and emotional outburst to release all of my pent up frustration and anger and rage and sorrow. I'm not foolhardy enough to think that this is good and was all I needed. Quite honestly, I may need to do this a few more times if it starts building again. And I'll allow myself to do that. I give myself permission to explode in a safe and healthy manner.
Now, I just want to sleep. I'm physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. Sadly, I can't right now. My kiddo is out front playing and I have to keep an eye on him.
I'm hoping I start to feel better. I'm hoping this anger starts to subside. Only time will tell.
When I got home, my son, thankfully, went outside to play with his friend. I pulled out this big padded bat (think American Gladiator) and went into the backyard. I hit the side of the house a few times but that didn't do anything for me. But we have some dead trees. And I beat the ever loving shit out of those trees. Branches flying, needles falling, shrubs pounded to the ground. I must have been a sight - me, in a bright pink top and skirt, beating at these trees, tears falling, a snarl on my face, yelling and cussing, repeatedly swinging the bat over and over until I nearly collapse. And then I cried again. This time it was big, ugly sobs, uncontrollable crying.
And it felt pretty good. I felt more cleansed. M was right. I needed to do that. I needed a physical and emotional outburst to release all of my pent up frustration and anger and rage and sorrow. I'm not foolhardy enough to think that this is good and was all I needed. Quite honestly, I may need to do this a few more times if it starts building again. And I'll allow myself to do that. I give myself permission to explode in a safe and healthy manner.
Now, I just want to sleep. I'm physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. Sadly, I can't right now. My kiddo is out front playing and I have to keep an eye on him.
I'm hoping I start to feel better. I'm hoping this anger starts to subside. Only time will tell.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
More of the same, sadly
I wish I could say that things are better. I wish I could say that the anger was abating, that I was feeling better, that the tears were far from the surface. I wish I could say those things. But if I did, it would be a lie. I'm not feeling better. The anger and irritability continue. The depression is growing ever stronger. I feel trapped - nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.
The anger is all consuming. It saps my energy, leaving me a drained husk. When the anger is dull, the depression takes over, making me feel worthless and helpless for not being able to reign in the anger. Back and forth the two go, weaving a spiderweb of despair around me. I'm trying my best to counteract it. I'm at the gym, staying busy, talking, doing my readings . . .but the silken strands pull tighter, ever tighter.
I'm not really feeling joy or happiness. Not now. I can fake that I am. Quite well. But I'm not - and even when I try, it's not genuine. I'm going through the motions, doing what I'm supposed to be doing. Work, clean, dinner, gym . . .nothing has much meaning.
I don't know why I can't cope. I don't know what changed. I don't know what's brought on these feelings. And I don't know how to stop it.
The anger is all consuming. It saps my energy, leaving me a drained husk. When the anger is dull, the depression takes over, making me feel worthless and helpless for not being able to reign in the anger. Back and forth the two go, weaving a spiderweb of despair around me. I'm trying my best to counteract it. I'm at the gym, staying busy, talking, doing my readings . . .but the silken strands pull tighter, ever tighter.
I'm not really feeling joy or happiness. Not now. I can fake that I am. Quite well. But I'm not - and even when I try, it's not genuine. I'm going through the motions, doing what I'm supposed to be doing. Work, clean, dinner, gym . . .nothing has much meaning.
I don't know why I can't cope. I don't know what changed. I don't know what's brought on these feelings. And I don't know how to stop it.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
I am self destructive . . .
I am. I'm feeling VERY self destructive. I want to cut or put my fist through a wall or do something anything to hurt myself. I want to smoke and drink and run away and hide and take all of my klonopin and xanax. I want to do ALL of these things. All of these things that I shouldn't be thinking about, that I shouldn't be wanting to do. All of these things are scary. And not just for me.
My irrational, explosive anger has been almost impossible to keep under wraps. Everything sets me off. Nothing sets me off. I'm annoyed with everything. However small the infraction, the angers swells and grows to the boiling point within minutes. It takes everything I have to not lash out with strings of obscenities and flying fists. It takes everything. I'm left feeling exhausted, empty, frustrated and near tears. And this happens numerous times a day. Five times? Ten? More? All of the above.
Tuesday, in fact, I left work at 0945 because of the above scenario. I couldn't cope. I had a complete mental and emotional breakdown. I saved the crying for the drive home at least. I was ready to strangle someone, or throw all the computers off the desk, or shatter a window or mirror, or take a scalpel to myself. So I left. I went home. I slept. I felt a little better. Wednesday I was a little better, not as irritable, not as volatile. But I still had issues. I still had to use so much energy keeping everything under wraps.
And today. Today. It started out okay. Not too bad. But it didn't last long. Small infractions kept building up. I was having a hard time being okay. My fragile facade was wearing thin. Driving home from support group (which, sadly didn't happen), I seriously considered running my truck into the side rail. Not to kill myself. I don't want to die. But I could be hurt. I could be out of commission for awhile. No work or responsibility. . . But I couldn't. That's not rational. That's not right. That's not me. Besides, I'd be pissed if I couldn't go to the gym.
But the problem is that I'm having these thoughts. I'm so angry/frustrated/irritable/explosive/volatile/teetering on the edge of self destruction; I'm so near tears all the time over everything I'm feeling; I'm so tired of this instability that my mind seems to think that self harm is the answer. I don't know what to do any more. I'm running out of coping mechanisms. Positive readings, meditation, working out, writing, trying to talk . . .it's not working. I'm at a loss.
I need help.
My irrational, explosive anger has been almost impossible to keep under wraps. Everything sets me off. Nothing sets me off. I'm annoyed with everything. However small the infraction, the angers swells and grows to the boiling point within minutes. It takes everything I have to not lash out with strings of obscenities and flying fists. It takes everything. I'm left feeling exhausted, empty, frustrated and near tears. And this happens numerous times a day. Five times? Ten? More? All of the above.
Tuesday, in fact, I left work at 0945 because of the above scenario. I couldn't cope. I had a complete mental and emotional breakdown. I saved the crying for the drive home at least. I was ready to strangle someone, or throw all the computers off the desk, or shatter a window or mirror, or take a scalpel to myself. So I left. I went home. I slept. I felt a little better. Wednesday I was a little better, not as irritable, not as volatile. But I still had issues. I still had to use so much energy keeping everything under wraps.
And today. Today. It started out okay. Not too bad. But it didn't last long. Small infractions kept building up. I was having a hard time being okay. My fragile facade was wearing thin. Driving home from support group (which, sadly didn't happen), I seriously considered running my truck into the side rail. Not to kill myself. I don't want to die. But I could be hurt. I could be out of commission for awhile. No work or responsibility. . . But I couldn't. That's not rational. That's not right. That's not me. Besides, I'd be pissed if I couldn't go to the gym.
But the problem is that I'm having these thoughts. I'm so angry/frustrated/irritable/explosive/volatile/teetering on the edge of self destruction; I'm so near tears all the time over everything I'm feeling; I'm so tired of this instability that my mind seems to think that self harm is the answer. I don't know what to do any more. I'm running out of coping mechanisms. Positive readings, meditation, working out, writing, trying to talk . . .it's not working. I'm at a loss.
I need help.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
My mood swings are assholes
Originally I was going to post last night with the title of "watermelons are assholes" (because I broke a nail on the watermelon I was cutting). It was going to be a light-hearted post poking fun at myself, because yesterday was pretty okay. Mood wise I was alright, down, but mostly alright, had therapy yesterday, was mildly productive . . .
But I didn't post. And then today happened. And keep in mind, it's only 10:30am as I write this.
Today, right now, I'm supposed to be at work. And this morning, I was. But my state of mind . . .I couldn't handle work. I was so furious at everything, irrational, uncontrollable anger. Bitterness and hostility like you wouldn't believe. And near tears. So close to crying over everything, over nothing. I literally couldn't cope.
At all.
Luckily there were people on call. Luckily K called someone in to take my patients so I could come home. I tried my best not to cry while driving. I succeeded, sort of. I didn't ball, but the tears came. Over what? Over nothing. Over stress, over tiredness, over the extinction of the dinosaurs. I have no bloody idea. I'm emotionally unstable right now. I could cry or punch a wall in a moments notice. All I want to do is sleep the day away. Just sleep. No waking. Just sleep.
But I have to go into work at 1 for a meeting (one which I would have popped in and out of if still AT work). After the meeting I'm having lithium levels drawn because I think I'm getting toxic. And then? Maybe the gym. The gym helps my moods sometimes. Then I have to face the evening. I know I'll only want to sleep again. Sleeping is easier than coping. Easier than trying to deal with and manage my fragile emotional state.
I don't understand what's going on. I do, on a cognitive level, I truly do. But that doesn't really help. I'm doing everything right. I'm exercising, eating right, being proactive with my meds and the medical side of bipolar. I'm in therapy, I have support and am in a support group. I don't know what else to do. I'm desperate to be okay, to feel okay, and not just every once in awhile. I need to be okay most of the time. It's all I want.
Please, it's all I want.
But I didn't post. And then today happened. And keep in mind, it's only 10:30am as I write this.
Today, right now, I'm supposed to be at work. And this morning, I was. But my state of mind . . .I couldn't handle work. I was so furious at everything, irrational, uncontrollable anger. Bitterness and hostility like you wouldn't believe. And near tears. So close to crying over everything, over nothing. I literally couldn't cope.
At all.
Luckily there were people on call. Luckily K called someone in to take my patients so I could come home. I tried my best not to cry while driving. I succeeded, sort of. I didn't ball, but the tears came. Over what? Over nothing. Over stress, over tiredness, over the extinction of the dinosaurs. I have no bloody idea. I'm emotionally unstable right now. I could cry or punch a wall in a moments notice. All I want to do is sleep the day away. Just sleep. No waking. Just sleep.
But I have to go into work at 1 for a meeting (one which I would have popped in and out of if still AT work). After the meeting I'm having lithium levels drawn because I think I'm getting toxic. And then? Maybe the gym. The gym helps my moods sometimes. Then I have to face the evening. I know I'll only want to sleep again. Sleeping is easier than coping. Easier than trying to deal with and manage my fragile emotional state.
I don't understand what's going on. I do, on a cognitive level, I truly do. But that doesn't really help. I'm doing everything right. I'm exercising, eating right, being proactive with my meds and the medical side of bipolar. I'm in therapy, I have support and am in a support group. I don't know what else to do. I'm desperate to be okay, to feel okay, and not just every once in awhile. I need to be okay most of the time. It's all I want.
Please, it's all I want.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Fuck you Sunday
Terribly pissed off today. One, I'm hyper irritable anyway, and two, I've had to work both days of my weekend off. Which sucks fucking balls. So instead of lounging on the couch watching football with my hubby and son, I'm stuck here, by myself, in the nursery with nothing to do.
Except complain, apparently.
Why am I working you ask? Because someone called in "sick". And it just so happens that my friend L and I are the only other ones right now who can do charge. Obviously we don't want to screw each other over, so we split the 12 hours both yesterday and today - she worked 0700-1300 and I'm working 1300-1930. But it pisses me off. And hell, maybe the gal who called in truly IS sick and I just sound like an ass. But you know what? I don't fucking care. She's done this before on a weekend so it raises suspicion.
In other news, I'm still enjoying mild depression and lack of motivation. I don't want to do much of anything if it doesn't involve sleep or working out. It's about all I can muster to do anything more. Which has made me even more snippy on top of my already irritable state of mind. Always a crowd pleaser, I am.
I feel like I have nothing to look forward to. I try. I look for things. What keeps me going right now is therapy, support group, and weighing myself at the end of the week. Sounds hollow and stupid, doesn't it? It should be seeing my son and hubby, doing things with them, seeing friends . . .and those things do help - trust me, they do. But in the short term. In the long term, well, I'm hanging on by a thread.
And I know that's the depression talking. It's Ted (if you've read for awhile, you'll remember that I named my depression Ted). It's not me; it's Ted, it's bipolar disorder. But that brings little solace. Not when you're trying to deal with it. What matters is that I'm starting the downward spiral of depression and I can't quite shake it. That's what matters. Not where the thoughts are coming from.
So, yeah. Cranky as fuck and becoming depressed. I do wish I could feel normal. At least part of the time.
Except complain, apparently.
Why am I working you ask? Because someone called in "sick". And it just so happens that my friend L and I are the only other ones right now who can do charge. Obviously we don't want to screw each other over, so we split the 12 hours both yesterday and today - she worked 0700-1300 and I'm working 1300-1930. But it pisses me off. And hell, maybe the gal who called in truly IS sick and I just sound like an ass. But you know what? I don't fucking care. She's done this before on a weekend so it raises suspicion.
In other news, I'm still enjoying mild depression and lack of motivation. I don't want to do much of anything if it doesn't involve sleep or working out. It's about all I can muster to do anything more. Which has made me even more snippy on top of my already irritable state of mind. Always a crowd pleaser, I am.
I feel like I have nothing to look forward to. I try. I look for things. What keeps me going right now is therapy, support group, and weighing myself at the end of the week. Sounds hollow and stupid, doesn't it? It should be seeing my son and hubby, doing things with them, seeing friends . . .and those things do help - trust me, they do. But in the short term. In the long term, well, I'm hanging on by a thread.
And I know that's the depression talking. It's Ted (if you've read for awhile, you'll remember that I named my depression Ted). It's not me; it's Ted, it's bipolar disorder. But that brings little solace. Not when you're trying to deal with it. What matters is that I'm starting the downward spiral of depression and I can't quite shake it. That's what matters. Not where the thoughts are coming from.
So, yeah. Cranky as fuck and becoming depressed. I do wish I could feel normal. At least part of the time.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Common fears start to multiply . . .
. . .we realize, we're paralyzed.
Hooray! It's Friday! That's fake enthusiasm, sadly. I've truly been a bit down lately. Down, and irritable as a motherfucker. The past 2 days I could snap at anyone or anything without provocation. I had to struggle to keep it under control. And I mean struggle. Especially because I was at work. And we were stupidly busy because apparently everyone needs to have their baby on the same day.
That constant struggle, having to keep myself in check, is tiring. Very tiring. I don't think people understand that part of bipolar disorder. When you're in a mood cycle you can't cope like other people do. You have to be aware of your mood/state of mind literally every minute or you might say/do something regrettable or worse. And this constant micromanagement takes energy. And this, I'm sure, makes my hyper-irritability even worse. It's a never ending downward spiral.
I guess the good news though is that the mania seems to be subsiding. In fact, it's almost gone. No racing thoughts, no pressured speech, no constant need to move . . . I also haven't had a panic attack in 2 weeks, which is fantastic. All that remains of that is the irritability, which I think can mostly be explained by other factors.
But I'm left with the depression. It's not bad - certainly nothing compared to January when I was suicidal - but it's there, a dead weight on my back I'm forced to carry around. I'm hoping the weight doesn't get heavier. I'm coming out of this mixed episode that started in July. The mania has left me - hopefully the depression will too and I'll be stable again.
On a lighter note, I've lost 14 pounds in the last 8 weeks! Which I'm crazy proud of. Seven more pounds to make my goal! Physically I feel so much better - I've been eating healthy food in the right proportions, avoiding sugar and hitting the gym again. Except I'm going to have to buy new clothes because everything is getting loose. Oh well. I can handle that ;)
Hooray! It's Friday! That's fake enthusiasm, sadly. I've truly been a bit down lately. Down, and irritable as a motherfucker. The past 2 days I could snap at anyone or anything without provocation. I had to struggle to keep it under control. And I mean struggle. Especially because I was at work. And we were stupidly busy because apparently everyone needs to have their baby on the same day.
That constant struggle, having to keep myself in check, is tiring. Very tiring. I don't think people understand that part of bipolar disorder. When you're in a mood cycle you can't cope like other people do. You have to be aware of your mood/state of mind literally every minute or you might say/do something regrettable or worse. And this constant micromanagement takes energy. And this, I'm sure, makes my hyper-irritability even worse. It's a never ending downward spiral.
I guess the good news though is that the mania seems to be subsiding. In fact, it's almost gone. No racing thoughts, no pressured speech, no constant need to move . . . I also haven't had a panic attack in 2 weeks, which is fantastic. All that remains of that is the irritability, which I think can mostly be explained by other factors.
But I'm left with the depression. It's not bad - certainly nothing compared to January when I was suicidal - but it's there, a dead weight on my back I'm forced to carry around. I'm hoping the weight doesn't get heavier. I'm coming out of this mixed episode that started in July. The mania has left me - hopefully the depression will too and I'll be stable again.
On a lighter note, I've lost 14 pounds in the last 8 weeks! Which I'm crazy proud of. Seven more pounds to make my goal! Physically I feel so much better - I've been eating healthy food in the right proportions, avoiding sugar and hitting the gym again. Except I'm going to have to buy new clothes because everything is getting loose. Oh well. I can handle that ;)
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Yep, That's a Cat Alright . . .
Ren and Stimpy plug. Ignore that.
It's Tuesday. Haven't written since Saturday. Last 2 days were boring, actually. Sunday I was at work and sick, but luckily I was able to go home early. Napped for a couple of hours. A little down but nothing bad. Yesterday I pretty much hung out at home. Not really sick anymore, just weak and tired. Drew a piece of vent art which is always helpful. J and I had a talk about everything that's been going on and what I write in my blog and how he feels about it. I think it was a good talk. Insomnia was my friend last night, sadly. I didn't take anything for it. Eventually I fell asleep.
Today I had therapy with M. Topic of the week? My sexual assault at a certain grocery chain I used to work at. It was surprisingly easy for me to talk about, though there were snippets of malice under my lightheartedness. M saw through my humor, of course. Though, truly, the assault is way less traumatizing than my abuse and rape. Mainly, I think, because I actually did something about that. I told people, people who I trusted, and got the guy fired. I didn't press charges because I was too overwhelmed to deal with talking to the police (at this time, the physical and sexual abuse in my relationship was starting to skyrocket).
We also talked about my moods over the past week and what I've been doing to counteract them. It was a good session (they always are!), but I was a bit giddy and distracted. M had to focus me a couple of times, which was fine - I just hate being that way. Stupid hypomania.
I think what I'm struggling the most with right now is finding meaning in life. Which I'm sure sounds stupid. Great husband, awesome son, amazing friends, career . . .how can I not find meaning? Well, there's the rub. That's the depression bit trying to come back, gain a stronghold. Strangle hold is more accurate, actually. It makes everything seem worthless and pointless. It's not all the way there - not yet. And I intend to keep it that way.
But this, the depression, coupled with my hypomanic tendencies lately are a problem. I'm giving it time, seeing if it will pass in the wake of everything I've been working through the past 3 weeks. I'm hoping it will. If not, I'll do whatever needs to be done to be in control again.
It's interesting, as I reread this post, it sounds very flat and emotionless. Maybe because that's how I feel at this moment. I don't know.
Still weekly sessions, support group next Thursday, same meds . . .probably more vent art. And reminding myself of all the wonderful things in my life.
I hate this disease.
It's Tuesday. Haven't written since Saturday. Last 2 days were boring, actually. Sunday I was at work and sick, but luckily I was able to go home early. Napped for a couple of hours. A little down but nothing bad. Yesterday I pretty much hung out at home. Not really sick anymore, just weak and tired. Drew a piece of vent art which is always helpful. J and I had a talk about everything that's been going on and what I write in my blog and how he feels about it. I think it was a good talk. Insomnia was my friend last night, sadly. I didn't take anything for it. Eventually I fell asleep.
Today I had therapy with M. Topic of the week? My sexual assault at a certain grocery chain I used to work at. It was surprisingly easy for me to talk about, though there were snippets of malice under my lightheartedness. M saw through my humor, of course. Though, truly, the assault is way less traumatizing than my abuse and rape. Mainly, I think, because I actually did something about that. I told people, people who I trusted, and got the guy fired. I didn't press charges because I was too overwhelmed to deal with talking to the police (at this time, the physical and sexual abuse in my relationship was starting to skyrocket).
We also talked about my moods over the past week and what I've been doing to counteract them. It was a good session (they always are!), but I was a bit giddy and distracted. M had to focus me a couple of times, which was fine - I just hate being that way. Stupid hypomania.
I think what I'm struggling the most with right now is finding meaning in life. Which I'm sure sounds stupid. Great husband, awesome son, amazing friends, career . . .how can I not find meaning? Well, there's the rub. That's the depression bit trying to come back, gain a stronghold. Strangle hold is more accurate, actually. It makes everything seem worthless and pointless. It's not all the way there - not yet. And I intend to keep it that way.
But this, the depression, coupled with my hypomanic tendencies lately are a problem. I'm giving it time, seeing if it will pass in the wake of everything I've been working through the past 3 weeks. I'm hoping it will. If not, I'll do whatever needs to be done to be in control again.
It's interesting, as I reread this post, it sounds very flat and emotionless. Maybe because that's how I feel at this moment. I don't know.
Still weekly sessions, support group next Thursday, same meds . . .probably more vent art. And reminding myself of all the wonderful things in my life.
I hate this disease.
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