The thing is . . .

. . . I really kinda feel like shit. Super irritable and depressed. There isn't a day again where I don't break down sobbing. I don't want to exist - if I could just sleep until I felt better. But the scary thing? I'm moving into the "I don't want to live stage". That's not  a good place to be. I'm so tired of feeling like crap. And thinking that this will go on for as long as I'm alive . . . well, that's daunting and depressing in and of itself.

I had therapy on Tuesday and M had me do an exercise where I pretended my mom was sitting across from me and I had to tell her what I was feeling. I kinda failed at it. I was so emotionally drained that I couldn't really do the exercise justice. I want a do over. He also gave me homework of sorts: to cut all communication with my mom. Now, she's a pretty big trigger for me and even getting a text with her fills me with anger and icky feels. M is worried about my current emotional/mental state and said that contact with her is probably too much right now.

I tend to agree. I've said for a long time it would be so much easier if she were dead. Which is a horrible thing to think - trust me, I know (though M said it's a very common thing for ACOA's to think of their alcoholic parent). So I decided that yes, cutting contact for now would be good for me.

Thinking about that conversation fills me with dread. Hubby suggested that I write her an email outlining everything and then have a very brief conversation with her. I convey everything more eloquently through the written word and I can avoid a confrontation that way. It'll still be hard because I know it will "break her heart" (those would be her words, not mine). And that will make me feel guilty (M says I need to get over my guilt). And my mom really isn't a bad person - she's not this abusive monster or anything. She's just an alcoholic ( a very functional one) who happens to be an extremely big trigger for me.

I really hope she doesn't take this too hard.

Increasing my Seroquel

I saw my pdoc yesterday and we're increasing my seroquel. I'll have 4 days at 150mg, 4 days at 200mg, and then be up to the target dose of 300mg (I've only been taking 50mg over the past 2 weeks). I'm hoping it works. We'll see.

When she first gave me the seroquel 2 weeks ago, she said there would be no difference in the level of sedation between 50mg and the higher doses. Yesterday she told me I might notice increased sedation. WTF? I've already noticed that I'm more sleepy throughout the day and have a harder time getting up in the morning and now you're telling me that this will get worse. Thanks. It's also increased my appetite 10 fold and I'm already gaining weight. If this doesn't slow down it'll be a deal breaker for me. (To counter this I'm getting my butt back to the gym and using Sensa - though it's hard to work out when you're sleepy and have no motivation thanks to worsening depression).

I had decided that I would give this med change 8 weeks to fully take effect. I think that's more than reasonable. Which means I still have 6 weeks to go. I'll be honest - I'm not optimistic. One might argue that I wasn't optimistic with the Brintellix and that worked. And that would be true. I'm hoping that seroquel will prove me wrong. I don't know if I'll wait the full 8 weeks. I might decide at 6 weeks whether or not it's working for me. If not, I want back on the Brintellix. If the anxiety comes back then we treat it. I'm tired of feeling like crap.

The last 2 weeks have been rough. I've cried almost every day and I'm back to not wanting to exist. I'm back to thinking that everything is hopeless and pointless and why should I bother trying. Sadly, what comes next is not wanting to live. And that quickly spirals into suicidal ideation. I don't want to go there. I don't want to be there. I want to feel good. I want to feel happy. I want to be stable. I'm tired of this fucking unrelenting depression.

It's frustrating to have felt so good and to now feel so bad. And no, it's not fair. It's like I'm not supposed to be happy. I'm not supposed to be well. And that's a bunch of bullshit.

Here we go again . . .

July 21st I posted something marvelous - how good I was feeling. I was feeling stable, happy, enjoying life.

You'll notice my use of the word was.

I'm no longer there. I'm no longer that girl. I should have known that it would be too good to be true.

Here's what happened: I had to stop the Brintellix. Why? Because my pdoc is refusing to prescribe it. Why? Because it was causing anxiety. Constant, unrelenting anxiety with panic attacks. That was getting worse. To the point of me not being able to sleep.

But even with the anxiety, my mood was good. Optimistic. Joyous at times. Everything I would want it to be.

But alas, no Brintellix for me.

My pdoc had another idea. Seroquel XR. There is a lot of strong research out there pointing to Seroquel as being the superior choice in treating bipolar depression. The research is compelling. My pdoc is confident it will work.

Seroquel is an antipsychotic, and I'm already on an antipsychotic (geodon). There is no real need to be on two. So we're phasing out the geodon. The Seroquel is supposed to replace both the geodon and the Brintellix. This is all well and good in theory, but not so much in practice.

See, I am no longer me. I am no longer this person who enjoys life and sees it worth living. The happiness and wholeness that I felt have been ripped away from me. I am a husk again. A paper doll. A two dimensional thing incapable of feeling the normalcy and stability I experienced just 2 weeks ago.

But it's worse this time. Because I was happy. Because I could feel. And just as I was getting used to it - used to feeling normal - it's gone. Slipped through my fingers as I desperately tried to hold on. It's nothing but dust now. And you can't pile dust together and make a stone as much as you can't have "real" feelings without proper brain chemistry.

I can't fake it. It's not there. It's just not. Fucking. There. I try and be happy. I try. I might catch myself in a moment of laughter and I push myself to feel. I mean, I was laughing - I should be feeling. It registers, but only for a moment. In seconds it's gone. Two weeks ago I would have felt it. I would have felt happiness, joy, humor, elation, togetherness, solidity . . . but that's just not there anymore. And, try as I might, I can't force it.

I'm trying to give the Seroquel the old "college try". I'm trying to give it a chance. But I don't want to settle for existing. Not after knowing what it feels like to feel good.

I don't want to be a husk. I don't want to be a paper doll.

I want to be me.

Some thoughts on stability . . .

It's awesome.

That's it.

Nothing more to see here.

Okay, there is.

If you've been following this blog at all, you know how much shit I've gone through. You know about my total of 4 hospitalizations. My self harm (my arm looks like shit, by the way). My very real brush with death. You know about how every single day of my life is a struggle against my brain. And there are some things that you don't know about - the things that I don't share here because they're too personal or awful or embarrassing.

Which is why this post is kinda special.

Because I finally feel stable. More than just stable - I feel good. I feel like me. I'm actually feeling happy and joyful and upbeat and positive. I'm enjoying life.

I'm enjoying life.

That's huge, y'all. I have hated life for the last 2.5 years. Hated it. I knew for certain that I would die by my own hand - it was just a matter of when (and that almost happened the end of May).

But now . . . Stability. Happiness. Hope.

I think there's a couple of reasons for this. First and foremost, Brintellix. A brand-spanking new antidepressant that I've been on for 2.5 weeks. The first week and a half sucked. Royally. Mood swings and uncontrolled rage. But then something magical happened: it worked. I started feeling better. The anger lessened. My mood improved. I started feeling like me. Me.

And second, trauma work. As much as trauma work sucks (and it does suck), it's helping. I'm identifying triggers, working past them, learning coping skills, and learning forgiveness.

These two things are feeding off each other and I'm continuing to improve. That's not to say I don't have my moments - I'm still bipolar after all and my mood can change in an instant - but I'm definitely coping with that more effectively to where it's not debilitating like it was before.

This all feels so very strange and wonderful. I honestly never thought I'd reach this point. I'm so glad I did.

Brintellix

I figure I might as well put this out there - I was started on a new medication. I know, I know, that's going against what the doc in Boston recommended, but the reasoning makes sense.

At my second appointment with my new pdoc, she recommended that I start Brintellix, a brand new antidepressant. Her reasoning is this: I've been on lithium and lamictal for 2.5 years. I've been on geodon for 7 months. These meds are working well for my hypo manic symptoms - I haven't had hypo mania since I was hospitalized in November. I'm as stable on these meds as I'm going to get. But they're obviously not doing much for my depression since I'm still struggling with it. We need to get something on board to work on that.

She gave me 4 weeks worth of samples and wanted to see me again in 2 weeks. I didn't want to take another med. I was scared of having a horrid reaction to it like I did with the Depakote. And it went against what Dr. Schulman said.

So I didn't take it.

And then my depression was pretty bad for 2 weeks. I was apathetic and anhedonic. I cut. A lot. When I saw my pdoc again last week, she again brought up the Brintellix, saying that I had to decide how depressed I was willing to be. She said it was ultimately my choice, but that she strongly recommended it. And we wouldn't know my reaction unless I tried it.

I was scared. The appointment put me in a foul mood. At home, I discussed everything with hubby who then pointed out how miserable I am and how much I hate life. How I don't find joy in anything.

The following day I started the Brintellix.

Today will be day 7 on it (I take it at night). And I have to say, I think it's working. The past 3 days I've felt better (Saturday, Sunday, Monday). More like myself. More happy. It's been refreshing. Yesterday I was actually a little hypo manic - which was great except for the racing thoughts and later in the evening when I turned into a raging bitch for no apparent reason (which poor hubby took the brunt of). I had energy, I got a lot of shit done, I laughed hysterically. It was mostly good.

Today I'm a bit apathetic, a little down, but every day can't be great.

I'm hoping the Brintellix works without putting me into a full blown hypo manic episode. I see my pdoc on the 27th and will be getting a script for it if it seems to be working. I also hope I can afford this medication - it's brand new and my insurance might not cover it. If that's the case, no Brintellix for me. We'll see.

A Strange Kind of Confusion

I'm trying to figure something out and the answer is eluding me. Which is frustrating cause I like figuring shit out.

And overthinking things.

Here's my conundrum:

I have this overwhelming sense of emptiness. This void of feeling. It's nothingness and it's often all-consuming. Along with it comes feelings that everything is pointless and hopeless and stupid and why should I even bother trying. I hate it.

And when I do feel, it's all icky feels. Pressing hopelessness and despair, feeling down - not completely depressed - but down. Hyper irritability, anger, and anxiety.

All of the above are symptoms of depression. Not suicidal depression, not anywhere close to where I was last month, but depression none the less.

But I've been thinking. What if what I'm feeling isn't the absence of feeling? What if what I'm feeling is kinda "normal"? Think about it - I've been in a heightened emotional state almost constantly for 2.5 years. I've been feeling extreme versions of emotions for so long that maybe, just maybe, not feeling extreme emotions feels like nothingness. That not feeling the extreme emotions leaves me confused and flat and empty feeling. Because I can feel some happiness from time to time. I am able to joke. It's just that it's very fleeting. It lasts mere minutes.

Because "normal" people, people without a mood disorder aren't happy all the time. Being happy doesn't equate to always being happy. There is a normal range of emotions throughout the day, right? And normal people feel blah and meh at times - that's not unique to me.

But I think about this - from talking to people about this, I've been told, time and time again, that what I'm experiencing is not what they experience. That most people, when alone by themselves, don't constantly think that life isn't worth living. That most people don't have this overwhelming sense of emptiness and that their life isn't, and never will be, complete. And therefor that they'd be better off "not around". This is what I've been told by many people (I've polled a lot).

These feelings, however, are common with people with a mood disorder. Which leads me again to thinking this is depression related.

Back and forth I go. I truly think it's a little bit of both. I think I'm still very much in a depression. The symptoms truly do point to that. But I also think that I'm confused and don't know what to do with the absence of extreme emotions. Me feeling normal, stable, is a scary proposition for me because I don't know how to act. I have to completely reinvent myself. Discover who I am all over again.

 And, honestly, being stable is boring. There. I said it. Feeling everything so deeply is a bit exhilarating - even when it severe depressive emotions. There's a saying for bipolar disorder: It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply. Because feeling everything to the extreme is so much more invigorating. I don't even know how to describe it. Even the depression - the depth of emotion is staggering. I have 2 very good friends who are bipolar and they feel the same way. Many people on my bipolar support group feel the same way. It's a double edged sword - you crave the emotional extremes even though they are often terribly destructive.

I don't really want boring. I don't really want "normal".

But I don't want this feeling of nothingness, pointlessness, hopelessness, and emptiness that seems to go along with, well, me.

I don't even think this post makes much sense. It's rambling mostly. Me trying to sort through my thoughts.

Weird day so far . . .

I woke up this morning with the feeling that it was pointless to get out of bed. I was wide awake, which is unusual (the past few weeks I've been horrifically groggy in the mornings), but it just seemed stupid to get out of bed. I mean really, what was the point? My son is at his grandma's, I'm home alone, I have nothing to do until I see my pdoc at 5, so what's the point? Nothing really matters anyway.

But we have a guy coming to clean our ducts, furnace and air conditioner today so I needed to be up and showered. So I got up. And I showered. And I had breakfast and coffee. All I could think about was cutting or burning so I decided to make myself do something. I tidied up, folded laundry, dusted, and cleaned my office. I got my son's sheets in the wash and our comforter in the dryer.

It's 10:45 and I again have nothing to do. The duct guy is here. I can read, but I don't really feel like it (and I've got 6 hours to kill). I could try drawing but that just seems too daunting a task. Nothing I draw comes out right anyway and I get frustrated to the point of wanting to destroy something.

I want to get rid of stuff. Like, a lot of stuff. Trash it, give it away, sell it, whatever. Everything feels cluttered and we're going to need to downsize anyway.

I'm still apathetic but I'm restless. I didn't sleep well and I'm tired but I have this nervous energy. I hate it when I feel like this. Like life is meaningless and I'd be better off not participating in it. I'm not suicidal, I just want to disappear. Not exist for awhile. Obviously, I can't do that. So I'm just kinda stuck. Feeling like crap but not really feeling.

I hate not feeling. Well, the past few weeks I either have icky feels or no feels. Both are bad. I keep thinking that I'll even out, that Dr. Schulman will be right and I'll be okay and everything will even out. He said to give it at least 3-4 months. But then I think, feeling like this? For another 3-4 months? Can I get any fucking reprieve? Trauma work fills me with the icky feels. Triggers fill me with the icky feels. And when I'm not feeling icky I feel empty and dead inside. This is no way to be. And I keep thinking about how I get to deal with this for the rest of my life. Maybe my pdoc was right - maybe I do need to be on something for depression. The Brintellix like she recommended. But I'm scared to try something new - I have a bad track record with medications.

Oh well. What can I do? Keep plugging along and hope for the best I guess. Every day is a new day, and just because today is crappy it doesn't mean tomorrow will be crappy too.