Chance

I worked with Chance today (my therapy horse), along with N and Ju (the trainer/facilitator and therapist). And it was . . . emotional. So very emotional. I let them both read my "epiphany" post to see where I was coming from and how I've been feeling (it's been 4 weeks since I've seen them). N gave me a key chain with Chance on it and tickets to a horsemanship show. I went to put these in my truck before we went to get Chance from the corral and I lost it. Not even 10 minutes there and I lost it (my emotional control - not the key chain).

And that kept up. I walked Chance around the facility (outside) and cried. N and Ju gave me space and let me just be. Chance would put his nose on my elbow every time I would start crying and keep it there until I calmed down. At one point, when we were stopped, he put his soft nose on mine and stayed there, his hot breath rhythmic and soothing. When he finally pulled away, he layed his head on my shoulder. This horse . . . he's amazing. He pulled me from my shell so I could actually feel. Truly, deeply feel.

And what I felt was fear and sorrow and loss. I'm so scared right now. So very scared that I'm slipping and am fast approaching the point of no return. I can't end up how I was before. I don't think I'm strong enough to handle it. And with how I felt yesterday, and my emotional meltdown today . . . I'm scared. And I think I have been, all along, but I was doing such a good job of hiding and ignoring it.

But Chance made me feel safe enough to experience and acknowledge it. And God willing he'll help me beat it.

Today is a bad day

Today is a bad day and I don't really know why. There's no reason it should be. I have ideas, maybe, but I don't know.

Let's start with how I feel, shall we? Today I actually feel depressed. Before, I've just been feeling down, weird, withdrawn, annoyed . . . but not depressed. Today though . . .it's a different story. All the other feelings, they're still there, but now we've thrown in that other one. That one I've been trying to escape from for so long.

So why the change? Why is today so bad? I have only a few ideas, none of them very good. First: I saw M yesterday, and I brought him a copy of my previous post to read. We talked a lot about it and about how maybe I'm trying too hard to be perfect at getting better and still being a wife and mother and RN, etc. Which may be true. I have been trying hard to keep myself from getting worse through the mixed episode and this downward trend. And I haven't truly relaxed much. Not as much as I'd like to. All my days off are spent running around with appointments or errands, or playing with my son (not that that's bad, but it's nice to just sit and read). And then M said that he thinks I'm closer to full depression than I think. I disagreed with him. I'm managing, most days are okay (not great, and I have bad ones, but they're okay), I'm functional. But he said he's a little worried. And my thought with this is, if I had this notion in my head that M thinks I'm getting bad again, maybe it's becoming a self fulfilling prophecy. I don't really believe this, but it's something to think about.

Second: When J got home from work yesterday, we talked a little about my therapy session. He's very apathetic about everything pertaining to my mental health. At least that's how it seemed. Like he's given up and me being depressed is just the "new normal" (his words). This is how it is so why bother trying anything to fix it? He mentioned again how he thinks I latch onto something so that I become more depressed - that I'm doing this on purpose. And I'll be honest - that hurts. And then I start thinking, what happened? What event? What thing? What thought? What whatever that could possibly have started this? And I can't come up with anything. Nothing. But I'm wracking my brain for any explanation. Maybe J has an idea. And maybe he could share it with me. But I just don't know. And maybe this hurt and trying to figure this out is contributing to my mood today - I think this is probably true.

The good news, I guess, is that I got to come home early from work today. Which is a very good thing. I was not in the state of mind to be delivering babies. I'm distracted, irritable, withdrawn, annoyed, depressed, snippy, having trouble concentrating, and feel on the verge of tears.

But I'm home now, and I'm probably going to nap. It's much easier to sleep and ignore how I'm feeling. I don't feel like coping right now. I feel like hiding.

I had an epiphany. . .

Well, no, not really. Or maybe. I don't know.

Anyway, this always seems to happen late at night or insanely early in the morning when I'm in that not-quite-asleep-but-not-awake-either state of mind. Needless to say, I did not get up and write this then - shame, too, because I think it would come out more eloquently. But I'm going to do my best.

I've mentioned that I've felt "weird" lately. Not depressed, not me, not always okay, not sure what the hell is going on. Like I'm in this strange holding pattern and there's all these lights and sounds and whispers and I can't quite see the ground I'm flying over.

There's this part of me right now that doesn't care. About anything. She's very flippant and blase, short and to the point, quick to anger and annoy, and very much dissatisfied with everything. Dissatisfied with work, family, friends, coworkers, meds . . .everything. She's dissatisfied with and tired of everything. No longer does she want to do things right. No eating healthy. No going to the gym. No meds, no therapy, no mindfulness, no trying. Nothing. She doesn't care. She doesn't feel - other than anger, frustration, annoyance and hollowness - so how could she even begin to care?

Now this part of me, sadly, has been gaining a foot hold. She whispers seductively in my ear, her breath hot on my neck. It's so much easier not to care. When you don't care, you're not let down as much if things go wrong . . . .everyone else can handle it. You really don't have to worry about anything . . .no responsibility . . . Her words are poison, her breath acrid and stinging . . . but alluring. There's something sweet about the promise of not feeling and not caring . . . .

Except . . . .

Except for the fact that I do care. See, there's this other part of me - the part that's actually me - that's screaming out in tyranny over the false prophet gaining ground. NO! This is not who I am! I am a mother, wife, friend, nurse, artist, sister, daughter, idiotic goofball and I DO care! I DO feel!

And I want to care and feel and do things right. I want to be me.

And right now, these two are in a power struggle. Over me. Over who I am, really. And as they fight, what's left at the center is who I am now. The person who can feel, but doesn't all the time. The person who functions and copes and for all appearances looks in control and put together . . .but who is floating along the surface in limbo, barely participating in life. There are moments - sweet beautiful moments - where the real me shines through . . .but there are moments where the other one stands front and center, feeding me with lies.

Who I am right now, with this power struggle going on, is the girl who is withdrawn and quiet. She is often slow to smile and distances herself from others. She stays on the surface of conversations and offers little to them and often seems to be staring off in the distance, unsure of how to act or what to say. This is me right now.

I am the "me" of my childhood.


(now, I may elaborate more on the "me of my childhood" line later on - I'm still mulling this over in my mind - I have some interesting thoughts)

Weird

I feel weird. I think I put that in my last post. And that's really the only way I can describe how I feel. Weird. A little antsy, unsure, uneasy. Boggled by some thoughts. Confused.

I can't quite out my finger on it, but then I have some ideas as well. I certainly don't feel like myself. And I still have the ever present "I don't care about anything" attitude. And anger, irritability. And an overall feeling of being down. It's shitty. I also have this feeling of impending doom. I don't know why.

I don't like it.

Therapy with M was better today. Had him read my last post which, let's be honest, was nerve wracking for me. But we talked about it and it was okay. It was better than last week. But I still just . . .I don't know. I'm confused. I'll write more on this later after I think about it. I need to digest and ponder.

Saw Dr. C today and I'm back on Cymbalta (which, if you remember, I was on before and stopped because of sexual side effects). Trying 30mg instead of 60 - hoping for symptom relief without the side effects. We'll see how that goes. Dr. C mentioned he has to remind himself that I'm his patient and not a colleague. He also said that I am the highest functioning bipolar patient he has and I inspire him. And that he wants to publish my paintings, have me write a book, and run a support group. And this, apparently, is why he has to remind himself that I'm his patient. :)

I'll write more later. I need to think about what I'm feeling. Try and figure it out. As M says, I'm "too fucking insightful!"

I guess that's not a bad thing.

Hey look - it's Friday

I'm sitting outside typing this, which makes the screen difficult to see - more so than I thought. But it's gorgeous out. Overcast, light breeze, about 78 . . .gorgeous. Stark contrast to the past few days which have been hot and horribly windy and have hindered the fire fighting efforts here in Colorado.

Today is . . .weird. I'm not sure how else to describe it. I've been having shitty days lately. Days where I feel like crap and I cry or come close to crying and I feel like the depression is coming back. My mood has been trending downward. Friends have noticed. I can't wait to see Dr. C and figure something out. Then I'll have a couple of relatively good days where I feel mostly normal, mostly okay. Days where if my mood trends downward I'm able to bring it back up. Even short periods where I feel really happy. These days I think that nothing's wrong and why the hell did I make the appointment with Dr. C and I don't need any help. And then I have a crappy day again. Or I have a day like yesterday, or today, or over the weekend where I don't cope well and I feel like things are collapsing in around me. Where I'm not really depressed, but I'm overall down and withdrawn and don't really care about anything. There was the threat that we would have to evacuate because of the fires and I didn't really care. Whatever. I've worked 6 of the last 8 days. Whatever. I don't care.

And that feeling, honestly, is terrible. I spend most of my days flat and withdrawn with brief periods of elevated mood (not like hypomanic elevated - just elevated above flatness). So I'm not really depressed, per se, but I'm not really living either.

And stress. Oh my, stress. I'm not handling it as well as is my custom. Nope. Mainly issues at work because we've been so busy and I've been working so much. I manage, but I withdraw more on those days. I seek out places where I can be alone. The less interpersonal interaction the better.

So then today. I had therapy today, which is normally wonderful and I leave feeling good and uplifted and more optimistic. Soooooooo not the case today. I left feeling . . . drained? No. That's not quite right. Disappointed? Well . . .no, not quite right either. Disinterested, hollow, unnerved, defeated, annoyed, frustrated, dissatisfied, drained and disappointed. That's closer, I think. And also this overall attitude of "I don't give a flying fuck through a rolling doughnut about anything".

And I wondered why. Why was I feeling like this? This is not the norm during or after therapy. And I think, maybe, it's because I didn't accurately relay the information above. I'm so blase about everything that I just don't care and I downplay the importance of how much my mood is actually bothering me. Hiding it. An old habit cropping up. So I didn't say much about it - not what I had planned, not what I had intended. I stayed on the surface.

M played devil's advocate and challenged me a little bit. Awesome. Do that. Pointed out that maaaaaaybe some of my complaints/symptoms/whatever are just me being human and not my bipolar. Yep. Awesome. I'm sure he's right. Falling off the exercise and eating healthy bandwagon probably is just me being human. But my downward-trending-I-don't-give-a-fuck mood doesn't help that.

And there's something else. Something else hiding just under the surface. I know it's there, and it's hard to acknowledge.

And it's even harder to write about.

Hard, because I intend on having M read this during therapy next week. My heart is pounding just typing this. Hands shaking. It's stupid. It's so fucking stupid.

See, I have this tiny little paranoid thought that M questions the validity of me needing therapy. Like he's running circles around me, placating me, wondering why I haven't figured this shit out yet. And it's stupid and I'm sure it's not true but that thought? It's there.

The thought has been there over the last few sessions where I've seemed somewhat better and coping and doing rather well and if I'm doing well then why do I need therapy? To beat a dead horse? To help feed M's horses (as I jokingly said today when he asked why I was still coming)? So I question myself and my need and Clancy (my brain, remember) runs with it and I think puts these thoughts and feelings on M.

There's a psychological term for this: projection. Maybe that's what I'm doing. I'm questioning myself and my feelings and it's distressing and so I'm just gonna throw that shit on M so I don't have to feel so bad about it. Bam. I should charge for this.

I've even thought about stopping therapy and my meds and double flipping the bird to the world while riding a unicycle and wearing a fez. Fuck therapy, fuck meds, fuck me. I don't do this because I'm actually not an idiot, but I won't lie - I've come VERY close.

So where does all this leave me? Confused and upset and scared. I'm not sure what to do or expect or say. I'm not sure what I need anymore or if I should trust myself.

And now I'm crying. Fuck.

Meh

It seems that I'm caught in some sort of "no man's land". I'm not depressed. I'm not happy. I'm not . . .anything. I'm at that delightful point where I don't feel anything. I'm flat and withdrawn and don't want to be around people if I can help it. I don't feel anything and I don't seem to care.

 

But that's not true. I actually do care. I want to feel things. I want to have emotions other than irritability, mild depression, and flatness. I want to experience joy and happiness and contentment. Trust me - I want to.

 

For the past several weeks, not much has made me feel truly happy. Not much gives the sense that everything will be okay and that this mood episode will pass. The moments of happiness are fleeting at best. Most of the time I'm flat. I don't feel much, and what I do feel is muted. I get annoyed easily. I get very irritable. I don't handle stress or personal jokes/sarcasm very well. I'm not me.

 

And yet I wouldn't say I'm depressed. Not like I was before. Not by a long shot. I'm just sort of . . .here. I exist. That's about as good as it gets. And here's the annoying part - I want to change this. I'm trying to change this - and I can't. Not effectively. Everything I was doing before I went off the Cymbalta - mindfulness, being present, meditation, etc - isn't as effective. And I'm so apathetic about everything that I don't even care to try.

 

Except I do care. And I try, but it's not as effective. And I try, but maybe not as hard as I should. And I try, but I feel like it doesn't matter because this isn't going to change. This isn't going to get better. It does, for a short time, and then I relapse. I relapse and that solidifies the thought that this isn't going to change. This isn't going to get better.

 

A year and a half ago I had a "mood event" (for lack of a better term). I crashed. It was 2 years in the making of a slow downward spiral culminating in a near suicide attempt the day after seeing Dr. C and M for the first time. It's been a constant, daily struggle since. I'm depressed, I start doing relatively well, I go mixed, get well, depression, slightly better, MAJOR depression, get well, mixed, and now flat, withdrawn, apathetic. Every day is a struggle. Trying to stay in the moment and not worry about the past or future. Trying not to overthink things. Trying to manage my feelings without micromanaging them. Trying to be zen and mindful and relaxed and find the joy in little things. Trying to stay positive. Trying to reign in racing thoughts, pressured speech, impulsivity, and my inappropriate mouth. Trying not to think back to how depressed and close to death I was. Trying to remind myself that life is worth living and trying desperately to convince myself that things will get better and the days won't be as difficult. Trying to do all this while keeping it hidden from everyone so no one knows what's going on.

 

See, people have been through my mood episodes before. My family and close friends saw me through my overdose and hospitalization. I'm supposed to be better. I don't want them to get annoyed with me or tired of the same thing over and over again thanks to my mood instability. It's hard on them too. So I keep it hidden from them and try not to talk about it. I don't want people to think I'm looking for attention. I'm not. And I don't want them to be stressed or concerned. 

 

And so I'm trying my best without really trying my best because it's too hard aymore to try even though I really want to. I'm existing and functioning but not much more. I see Dr. C on the 18th. Maybe we'll adjust or add something. Maybe I'll continue to not care. I don't know.