.....

I feel like I'm slowly self destructing.

Fweeeeeeee

I don't even know what that title means . . .

I'm trying not to write depressing vent posts - at least not too often. I've been slacking in my posts recently as well. Stuff going on, stuff that I'm not sure I want to share here. So let's just say that I've been mentally and emotionally drained. And so very tired. I haven't been sleeping well the past week. At all. So much on my mind.

I'm still battling my depression, and it's been worse lately. I'm not catastropizing it, I'm trying to ignore it and move on. I'm trying to stay positive and I'm changing things that I'm doing (for example, I'm not painting anymore of my Bipolar Chronicles paintings unless they're not dark or focused on suicide). Hopefully that will help stop the suicidal thoughts. I know I'll still get ideas for new paintings - and I'll write them down and then not paint them. I'm going to sew again and try my hand a acrylic painting (I've always done watercolor).

I'm frustrated, to say the least. I've taken a nuvigil (my "upper") every day this last week and I'm still below the surface. I'm still drowning. I'm functional, yes. I can fool people into thinking that I'm doing well, yes. But I certainly don't feel that way. I'm empty and withdrawn and a shell. I want to stay away from everyone. I want to be alone. But I'm ignoring this (or at least trying to), and forcing myself to stay busy, and do things, and interact with people.

I made a bad decision last Friday night (suicidal+pills=bad). Discussed it with M, and I did email Dr. C about it. I'm terrified I'll be put on another medication - I don't want that - but I don't know if there's any other option at this point. I definitely don't like how I'm feeling now and I don't need another Friday night.

We'll see what happens. I'll of course update here for the 3-4 random people who read this. Until then I'll be plugging along, telling myself I feel fine and trying to ignore how empty and sad I actually feel.

Things to come

I'm working on a long post about suicide. Not all of it will be posted on here - it's for my book, but you'll get an excerpt. I'm doing some research on it and have found out some interesting things - especially when it comes to me asking people of their opinions. You'll see.

Mood wise, I've been a bit of a mess. I've taken Nuvigil (a temporary "upper") every day, and still I'm having problems with depression and emptiness. I've had some extreme suicidal thoughts and was scarily suicidal on Friday - to the point where I took pills (xanax, ativan, and klonopin). Not enough to kill myself (obviously), but enough to render me unconscious for around 12 hours. An escape. Just an escape.

I'm downplaying that. Probably too much as it was serious (I had a hard time not taking more), but what can I do, really? Nothing. Let's be honest - people don't want to hear about it. So I'll downplay and ignore it.

So there we go! Short and sweet tonight, as I'm in desperate need of ice cream. Double fudge brownie, if I remember correctly.

I don't like croup. Or ear infections. Or illness. Or flies.

That last one has nothing to do with this post, but I figured the info needed to be out there - you know, just in case.

My poor kiddo has been sick for almost a week now. He came down with a cold last Wednesday which quickly turned into croup. Which is pretty awesome. He has asthma so every time he gets sick, he gets croup. Which exacerbates  his asthma. Which then exacerbates the croup. It's the vicious cycle that is rather annoying and stupid and should be out-lawed in at least the lower 48 states (I don't care what Hawaii and Alaska do).

Anyway, he was on 3 days of steroids and cough syrup with codeine. He was coughing so hard he was throwing up. Which is nasty. It's not fun to be called into your son's room at 1am to find him laying in a pool of his own vomit (and if you think that's fun then you have more issues than me - which is impressive, let's be honest). But that wasn't the worst part. Oh no. We had to be whiny and cranky and then cry when we didn't get our way. And crying made us cough. And coughing made us barf. Goody.

By Sunday, he was feeling a little better but his cough was still horrific. So off to the doctor again on Monday. More steroids! Regular use of his inhaler rather than just rescue use! Hooray!

Now, keep in mind that I was with my whiny, sick son Thursday through Monday. My hubby was home Saturday and Sunday, but he was sick too. So I'm stuck dealing with two sick males - neither of which wanted to leave the couch. Well, by Monday I had had it. I was stressed and tired and frustrated and ready to burst. When I got home from taking my kiddo to the doc,  again, what did I find? My dog had puked all over the couch. Apparently she didn't think my son's puke was enough. Very kind of her to remedy that problem for me.

I lost it. I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to scream or cry of punch something or all of the above. So I did what any reasonable adult would do - I smothered my son with a pillow.

In my mind at least. No, I told him that I had to go in my bedroom to cry because I was upset. And you know what he told me? "Good luck with that. I hope you don't throw up."

Needless to say I didn't cry much. It's hard to do that when you're laughing at your 5 year old's logic and wit. God love him. Even if he does have an ear infection now too. (as a friend put it - he's bringing home germs like they were damn puppies). So true.

Why?

It's been a rough couple of days.  My mood has been pretty down in the dumps. Top that off with a sick, cranky kid who makes himself barf . . . .well, it put me over the top. I broke down last night and tonight. I was really trying to keep it together and hide everything, but it's just been too much. I'm stretched too thin and I feel overwhelmed. I'm trying not to catastrophize, and remember that tomorrow is a new day, but at the moment it's hard. All I want is to be alone. Completely alone. But that's not going to happen. Not tomorrow, not anytime this week. And quite frankly, it pisses me off.

On a side note, I named my brain Clancy. That way when I hear things that aren't there I can go "god dammit Clancy! WTF?". It makes me sound less crazy. Or more crazy. I'm not sure which.

Fun with your Psychiatrist

Actual email I just sent my psychiatrist:

"Hey Dr. C, I figured I'd give you a quick update on how I've been doing since our last meeting on christmas eve. I've had a couple of low days - pretty darn low. One I had very strong suicidal ideation, bordering on suicidal. But it passed, and the next day I took a nuvigil and pressed on. Most days I'm doing pretty good - sometimes blah and disinterested - but still pretty good. I'll keep pluggin' along and take it day by day.

I have my latest lab results back - thyroid and lamictal levels. My thyroid: TSH 0.52 (ref. range 0.36-3.74), free T4 0.88 (ref. range 0.76-1.46), T3 total 203 (ref. range 70-190). My lamictal level is 4.5 (ref. range 3-14). I think having my T3 levels higher has helped with the depression, hopefully :)

Also, when I saw M this week, I told him a fun little nugget of information he said I should share with you, just so we're all on the same page. I've been having some auditory hallucinations, which is awesome. And by awesome I mean somewhat annoying and slightly terrifying. Most are pretty benign - claps and whirs and tapping and metal on metal grinding sounds. Some . . .not so much. I was coming home from the gym and went to unlock the garage door and I heard someone on the other side of the door unlocking it for me. No one was home. At work on Wednesday I heard a little girl singing on two separate occasions. No one else could hear her. That one freaked me out a bit because it was crystal clear.

Okay wait. Did you hear that? Please tell me you heard that. Please. I'm serious. Can you hear that laughter?? Okay, this is getting to be too much.

That was a joke, by the way. Because I'm awesome and funny like that. You're welcome.

And I actually am having the auditory hallucinations. That part wasn't a joke. Only the joke part was a joke. I'll shut up now.

I'll keep you updated if anything changes, otherwise I'll see you in February at my next appointment.

Thank you!"

That was fun. I'm curious what his response will be . . .

Also? Why the hell does my font color/type/whatever randomly change? Seriously. I've tried changing it 4 times.

Wait, what?

Wow. Four days without a post! How crazy is that? Not that crazy, I guess. I think cats are crazier than that.

I've been a bit too busy and a bit too tired to write. I've been painting (surprise) and did sew a commission zombie bunny. Go me! And then work - training as charge nurse, which I've pretty much just taken over doing.

Mood wise has been interesting. Ups and downs daily and sometimes hourly. I never know how I'm going to feel one moment to the next. I'm just . . .everywhere. Today I went from slightly depressed and withdrawn to downright hypomanic and everywhere in between. It's frustrating.

Also? I've been having auditory hallucinations! Which is a lot of fun. Really.

Or not. It's a bit terrifying, actually. I've been hearing clicks and whirring and chimes and bells and metal on metal scraping. Yesterday when I got home from the gym, I went to unlock the garage door. Well you know that sound when you put the key in the lock and turn it? Yeah. That's what I heard. When I was doing nothing but standing there. And it wouldn't stop. Not until I put my key in the lock to actually unlock the door. And today at work I heard a girl singing. I looked everywhere (I was at the front desk) and no little girl. Or boy. Or people, for that matter. I heard it again and a coworker of mine did not. It creeped me the fuck out. And writing this I heard a loud, almost vibrating guttural growl.

I've also heard extra voices singing along with the radio/my ipod music. A very clear aberration of what I usually hear. Those extra voices should not be there.

So it's been pretty awesome. I'm going to tell M about it tomorrow and see what he thinks. I'm guessing he'll want me to email Dr. C about it, which I really don't want to do. I don't want any more meds. I don't want anything more to be going on.

Why can't the voices tell me how awesome I am? And give me the winning lotto numbers? And help me write my book? Maybe they could deal with my annoying patients and coworkers too . . . Or at least make me a sandwich. I don't know if voices can do that. But they should.

The Obligatory New Year's Post

And yes, I'm late. Sue me.

 

Not really. Don't sue me. I have no money.

 

So a new year is upon us, and this is a time that most of us make new year's resolutions, yeah? It always seems they're the same ones too: to lose weight, eat healthier, budget money. . . And it seems most of us have given up on them in the first 1-2 months. 

 

Well I fart on those resolutions and that percieved failure. Usually I don't make resolutions, but this year I did. I felt I needed to - it was almost a compulsion.

 

My Resolutions:

1. I resolve to invite more humor into my life and not take myself so seriously.

2. I resolve to be nicer to myself and not beat myself up if things aren't perfect.

3. I resolve to find at least 3 things a day to be thankful for.

4. I resolve to try and be more positive in any and every area I can.

5. I resolve to live life in the moment.

6. I resolve not to stress over or over react to things outside of my control.

7. And, most importantly, I resolve to love myself. Because if I can't love myself, how can I love anyone else?

I honestly think that these resolutions, at least several of them, will be difficult to follow sometimes. Specifically numbers 2, 4 and 6. Why? Because, inherently, it seems to be my nature to beat myself up and be mostly negative and stress and get frustrated over stupid stuff. I guess I'm a "glass half empty" kinda gal.

But I'm going to try. And I'm going to succeed most of the time. Because I have to.

As an aside, and pertaining to resolution number 4, I've been trying to stay positive. I've been trying quite hard. After my therapy session on Wednesday, I felt I needed to put my foot down and make a change. A change for the better. Take control of myself because I can't keep going on how I have been.

One thing I'm doing is completely changing my diet. Staying away from processed foods as much as I can. Eating as little sugar and refined flours as I can. No coffee, no soda (tea yes. My new addiction - only caffeine free though). Cooking as many meals at home as I can using natural ingredients. Tons of fruit and veggies. I'm hoping by staying away from the processed foods and preservatives and added sugar and salt, my mood will improve slightly and my overall health too.

I'm still exercising as often as I can and still boxing and kickboxing. I'm thinking of adding yoga - the calming, centering yoga. We'll see.

More art. Always more art. My painting is still going strong, and I'll keep painting for as long as I keep seeing the images in my mind. I'll be getting back into sewing as well.

A goal I've set for myself , that I'll start working on this year, is writing my book. It's a lofty goal, let's be honest. But it needs to be done. It needs to come out. I don't know if it will ever be published - I hope so. . . .

Thursday and Friday I worked. And I had two pretty good days. I made them that way. I stayed positive, I laughed, I joked, I felt a little more like myself. I was positive. Granted, on Friday I was starting to get a little hypomanic, going a little overboard. And I am going to need to watch that. But I was positive and I had two pretty darn good days. Proud of myself.

Today started out good. I was positive, in a good mood. J, our son and I were out and about most of the day running errands and had lunch. Driving downtown, our son, A, asked if we would be scared if we were on the top of one of the buildings looking down. J and I both stated we wouldn't be up there in the first place because it would be scary.

Which is true.

And guess what my mind did. Suicidal ideation. Exactly what would it feel like to jump? That free fall before you hit the pavement. Would it indeed be scary? Liberating? Thrilling? Nothing? I pictured myself jumping . . . .over and over. My mood darkened. I ignored it. I tried to stay positive. I pushed those thoughts away and tried to bury them but they persisted. They stayed. And my mood darkened. I became very irritable and snapped at both J and A. And I felt bad and I beat myself up over it. I don't deserve them. I'm a moody, unpredictable bitch and a burden. My mood darkened.

When we got home I went into the bathroom and cried. I cried the ugly cry where you have snot dripping and your makeup runs and you make inhuman, guttural noises. I cried and I cried. I cried until my eyes were bloodshot and swollen and I had used almost an entire roll of toilet paper as kleenex.

J came in to check on me and hugged me and gave me the time I needed. When I felt okay to leave my sanctuary next to the toilet, A gave me a huge hug and told me he loved me and J did the same. And then acted inappropriately to make me laugh. And my two best friends must have sensed something was up because they both texted me right after and they were random silly texts that made me laugh. Then J went to the store and bought me pie because I wanted pie.

And the point of this, this rambling, is that after I felt so bad and cried and was full of despair and sorrow . . .I felt okay. I feel okay. And tomorrow I'll try to be positive and I'll make it a good day. Part of living in the moment is accepting that sometimes I'm going to feel like shit. Some days I'm going to cry and feel empty and hopeless and like I want to die. And at those times, it's okay for me to let myself experience it and cry and get out whatever I need to get out (as long as I'm not a threat to myself). That's okay. It doesn't mean I'm a failure. It doesn't mean that I'm always going to feel like that.

And likewise I'm allowed to revel in and enjoy myself when I feel good. I'll be living in the moment. Each moment is different and they constantly change. Today I was good, then horrible, and then pretty okay again. I didn't let the horrible ruin it.

Completely changing the subject, I'm hoping to bring more humor to this blog as well. More examples from my life of the stupid shit I do and say. Expect more sarcasm and overall silliness. No more constant doom and gloom and suicide and cutting. There will still be posts like that - this is my personal diary - but it needs humor and spice. And hopefully a larger readership.

Real post ahead . . .

A quick pop in. I have an actual post planned, I'm just a wee bit too tired to write it tonight. I'm thinking I'll have it up tomorrow evening. That's the plan at least. Also? Some symptoms of hypomania today. I'll be keeping a close eye on that. Yes I will.

Until then, enjoy some Tard (the cat, you idiots!)

I love you Tard.

That's his name, by the way. Short for "Tartar Sauce". I just dropped a bomb of knowledge on you. Watch out.

To die, or not to die . . .

To die, or not to die, that is the question.

What kind of question, exactly, is that? The answer is obvious, isn't it?

Well, no. It's not obvious if you have depression. Not all the time at least. And I'm not talking about the normal "downs" that people get. I'm talking about that all encompassing blackness that all but smothers you. The darkness that hits you like a runaway freight train hell bent on making you feel worthless. It weighs you down and takes away your drive for laughter, for love, for life.

That depression. Where you feel everything is pointless and worthless and nothing will ever change no matter what you do. No matter what you do, it makes no difference.

To die, or not to die. In those instances, this question is all too relevant. Even those of us who are "smart", who know better, who know that depression lies and that things will get better . . .even those of us face this question.

To die, or not to die. I've faced this question two major times in the past year - and both times I came very close to the wrong answer. I've toyed with it over and over again, rolling it over in my mind, trying to dissect and understand it. Suicide is on my mind most days. Not active thoughts . . .passive ones. But they're there, always there.

To die, or not to die. On my dark days, the question is more pressing. In a single day it's easier to push aside and ignore. When it's a series of dark days . . .it's much harder. That calming darkness beckons, offering me solace when everything else seems so bleak, so pointless. To die . . .it feels so much easier than the alternative. It's done. Over. No more pain, no more fear, no more emptiness. It sounds so nice . . .

To die, or not to die. It sounds so nice except that I don't want to die. I don't want to leave those I love and who love me. I want the pain to end. I want the hopelessness and emptiness and worthlessness to end. I want the pain to end. But I don't want to die. I don't want to die. And still, in those darkest moments of mine, I almost made the wrong choice. Even though I want to live.

To die, or not to die. I don't want to face this question again. Sadly, I know I will . . . I just don't know when.