Internal Struggle

I have a pretty awesome internal struggle going on right now. Of the kind that causes anguish, fear, nausea and the trots (no really - I totally have the trots). Here's what's up:

Yesterday hubs and I made a huge decision - one that completely changes our lives.

We're going to foreclose on our house and file bankruptcy.

Why? Because of my stupid fucking brain. No joke. I'm going to be going part time to give myself a break, decrease my stress level, and hopefully keep my stability longer than a month. Which means we can't afford to stay in our house.

The decision is made, we know what we're doing. So then why the internal struggle . . . ?

Because I am me and I suck.

I like to self sabotage. I do it subconsciously, but I do it. I had this revelation almost 8 months ago. Since then I've been working on curbing it. And I've done relatively well.

But this . . . this is difficult. It's a shitty situation and exceedingly stressful at best. And then you throw in my marginally stable, self sabotaging mind and, well, you get the idea.

Today I've been pretty down. I keep having negative thoughts invade my mind. I keep thinking about how all of this is happening because of me. This wasn't supposed to be how things played out. I was going to be better and move on and work and everything was going to be perfect and fall into place. I should be better. We shouldn't have to do this. It's my fault. If only I was stronger or not sick or sucked it up more . . .

See the trend? Great fodder for a downward spiral. And 9 months ago the spiral would have been immediate and devastating.

But not now. Not today. Because I know more about myself. Because I know that I can self sabotage. And because, while technically this turn of events is because of me, I know that my health and my ability to be a wife and a mother are more important than the house. We'll find a house to rent. And eventually we'll buy again. In the big scheme of things, this isn't all that bad.

Now, that being said, this isn't easy. I'm fighting against everything that is me. I'm fighting against my nature, my coping mechanisms. And it is anything but easy. Stopping the negative thoughts is exhausting. It takes energy. It drains me. It would be so much easier to give in. Give up and give in.

But I don't want to. I really don't want to. I don't want to be sick anymore. I can't be sick anymore. So I'm going to fight it and curb the negative thoughts and not start a pity party of one.

My health is more important than the house. My health is more important than the house. 

(I'll probably need to say that several more times)

So About Work . . .

Yesterday was my first day back at work. I was in the nursery (meaning going to deliveries - every delivery) and we were steady - we did 6 deliveries. Overall, I would say that it was a good day.

Now, having said that, I did noticed some definite deficits.

First and foremost - cognition. I was processing things more slowly. Luckily, in a life or death situation (I did a resuscitation on the baby in my first delivery), I was good. Snap, on-the-fly decisions came without hesitation - my critical thinking wasn't affected.

When it came to prioritizing things - charting, making charts, phone calls, lab draws, circumcision checks . . . I was not so good. I was slow to process and I had a hard time focusing and concentrating. You might want to say "but Cami, it was your first day back after 5 weeks off." And I would say yep, you're right - but I shouldn't have issues with this kind of stuff. I'm the most organized, efficient person at work.

Or at least I was.

Next - exhaustion. By 1pm I was done with people. Done. The fact that I had to interact at all was too much for me. I became withdrawn and flat, saying little. I felt mentally and emotionally drained. I felt tired. I found it difficult to be present.

And lastly - myself. Yes, I was a problem. Which is quite stupid, if you ask me. I was a problem because I had high expectations of myself - and I didn't meet these expectations. The day was both harder and easier than I thought it would be. I had a preconceived notion that I was going to fail miserably - and I didn't. So easier. But I didn't meet my high expectations, so harder.

See, my problem is the deficits. With each mood episode you get worse. Where as 2.5 years ago I was 100%, now I'm functioning at maybe 87%. And it will continue to get worse. I notice these deficits. I've been noticing them get worse over the last year (most notably over the last 4 months). And for me that's devastating. To not be able to function at my best, especially at work, is just not okay.

And I'm starting to beat myself up over it which could cause a downward spiral. I'm doing my best to curb the negative thoughts and for now I'm succeeding. It's just that they keep coming. Negative thoughts, what-ifs, and doubt is all trying to creep in. I don't want to function at 87% - I want to be 100%. I should be 100%.

"Shoulds" are bad. "Shoulds" make you feel bad. Part of my problem.

The other issue is whether or not I go part time. I honestly think that for right now, part time would be best for me. A little less work, a little less stress, a little more recovery time. I think it's what I need.

But I have a strong work ethic. And I feel like I'll be letting people down.

I also feel I have an obligation to my family. If I go part time we'll have a major shift in how we're living - namely, foreclosing on our house, filing bankruptcy, and moving into a rental house. That's a lot to process and that whole situation is based on what I chose to do.

How fucking terrifying is that??

I feel all this pressure to perform, to perform well, and make everything be okay. Most of it is probably put on by myself and my expectations, but I can't change that that's how I feel.

And I'm not catastrophizing - I should get that out there. I'm actually trying to minimize everything. I'm trying not to catastrophize. I'm trying to be practical.

Well, there you have it. There are deficits. I'm at 87% instead of 100%. I'm terrified of what going part time means, even though I think it would be better for me. Boom. Done.

Back to Work

Going back to work in the morning, 1st day back in over 5 weeks. I'm a bit nervous about it. Well, about certain aspects of it.

I don't want to answer questions. People, naturally, will ask questions. And I don't want to answer. I don't want to deal with it at all. There are people who I'll talk to, tell them what happened, but they are few and far between. I just don't want to deal with it.

I'm worried I'll get overwhelmed. That I'll need to go off by myself several times to "reboot". Which will probably lead to questions.

I'm worried about akathisia coming on while I'm at work. If it does, I'll have to take meds which could make me drowsy. If I don't take meds, there will be questions (constant movement, walking, antsy, anxious is hard to hide).

I'm worried about my concentration and focus. I notice deficits at home so I wonder what they'll be like at work.

I'm worried about how drained and exhausted I'll be during and after my shift. Hanging with friends completely exhausts me so I have a feeling work will be worse . . .

We'll see how it goes, I guess. There will be a blog post on it, though not tomorrow night - I doubt I'll be up for it.


In other news, I was close to losing my shit today. Today was my son's Cub Scout rocket races. All the scouts made rockets to race down a length of fishing line. There were a lot of kids. Like, I don't know, 20? Plus parents. Lot's of people. Lot's of noise.

Too much stimulation. Apparently.

I got antsy, anxious. I was pacing, rocking back and forth from foot to foot, side to side. One of the moms (whose house we were at) asked if I had to use the bathroom.

No, thanks. Just cold.

Actually, I'm just anxious and antsy and impatient for no good reason and the feeling is growing every minute, so much so that I want to scream and run away and hide.

Thanks, though.

My son's rocket took home the ribbon for "most creative". He painted it like a "creeper" from the game Minecraft.

Back to work . . .

So I'm going back to work on Monday after having been off for 5 weeks. Am I ready to go back? I don't know. I mean, I'm ready in that I want to be back and I'm getting pretty bored at home . . . but I don't know if I'm ready to be back.

I had coffee yesterday with a couple of friends and was, yet again, surprised at how tiring it was. It shouldn't be tiring - it's just coffee - but it was.

If seeing friends, and having coffee with friends is so tiring, so exhausting, how is a 12 hour shift at work going to be?

Well, we'll see.

The past few days I've been coming to terms with something else: how sick I truly was. I can't deny it anymore, even though I still try. I was sick. Very sick. I was mixed and then I was manic - full blown manic, for the first time ever. Then back to mixed. Then suicidal. All in a short period of time. It took a lot out of me. I'm still reeling from it.

There are other changes happening too. Something that I never even dreamed would happen . . .

Hubs and I are considering foreclosing on our house. Foreclosing and filing bankruptcy.

Because of my bipolar.

See, there's a very good possibility that I'm going to be going part time - less stress, better for my brain. But going part time puts an added financial strain on us. Could we afford to stay in our house? Of course! But things would be tight. And if something happened, if I was hospitalized again, or needed disability . . . well, that would be another story.

So we're considering foreclosure and bankruptcy, which is terrifying.

So much going on.

I hate it when I can't lie to myself . . .

I'm sitting on the couch watching the Broncos and Patriots game (going for the Broncos, btw - they're my team) and said to myself, self, you know what you should do right now? You should write.

And so I am.

I had a disturbing revelation yesterday while having lunch at a friend's house. These friends are pretty good friends, just ones that hubs and I don't see too often (they live over an hour away). We can share anything with them - we're comfortable like that. And so I shared about my last 3 months with them, as they only knew the bare basics.

This is where I had my disturbing revelation.

I was sick. Sick. Recounting my story, watching the expressions on their faces - expressions of mild shock, pity, and almost disbelief . . . It was difficult. It was eye opening. They saw the humor in my mania. They could joke about it which made me more comfortable. They asked questions. But I realized just how sick I truly was.

Talking about it takes away my ability to lie to myself about it. See, I like to tell myself that the last 3 months weren't as bad as they were. That I wasn't really that sick. When I say it out loud, all that goes away. I lose that lie. And losing that lie scares me a little.

I also realized this: I'm still sick.

We spent 5 hours at our friend's house and I left feeling emotionally and mentally exhausted. Completely drained and exhausted. Which forces me to consider the fact that I'm not recovered yet. Which scares me a little.

I was so sick I lost touch with reality - I was delusional. I was so sick I was suicidal.

And I'm not better yet. Yesterday made me realize how fragile I still am. How much my illness impacts my friends and family. And how quickly things can change.

And it makes me wonder how I'm going to do back at work. I go back the 27th. One week. If five hours with friends exhausts me, how is 12 hours at work at a busy birth center going to affect me?

I'm worried and a little bit scared.

The two parts don't match

They don't. Seriously.

I wanna take a minute and talk about jumping spiders and how they're cute little motherfuckers. No really.

How is this not adorable???

These are spiders that I'm not afraid of and will actively seek out.

They wear water droplets as hats.

What's not to love??? Adorable, harmless, and water droplet hats! Gimme *grabby hands*

You know what else is new? My body fucking hates Geodon. Not complete hate, but hate none the less. Eleven days ago Dr. C had me go from 80mg of Geodon to 120mg. Now, I had issues with drowsiness when I went up to 80mg so I wasn't too pleased but I said I'd do it. 

Dumb idea.

He told me to take 80mg at night and 40mg in the morning to help with the drowsiness. Totally didn't work. About an hour after taking the morning dose I would be so drowsy and groggy I couldn't stand. For 2-3 hours. I tried this for 6 days and it got progressively worse. So I switched to taking it all at night. This meant when I woke up I was so groggy I couldn't keep my eyes open - for about 2 hours. And if I woke up during the night to pee? I had better get it done fast because I'd get so groggy I couldn't walk. 

In addition to the debilitating drowsiness, grogginess and somnolence, I also had a host of other side effects: insomnia, racing thoughts at bedtime, a constant all-day headache, tachycardia (rapid heart rate) and PVCs (premature ventricular contractions - basically like palpitations). The tachycardia and PVCs happened about an hour after taking the 120mg dose and happened irregardless of what I was doing. My heart rate would be 140-150 just laying in bed. 

And that, my friends, is not good. Not good at all.

I was also incredibly irritable during this time. I think because of all the goddamned side effects and lack of sleep. 

So after 9 days I dropped myself back down to 80mg. The symptoms all were getting progressively worse so obviously my body can't handle 120mg of Geodon. 

The day after my first decreased dose, yesterday, was lovely. I woke up feeling more rested, no drowsiness at all, no headache all day, and my mood was greatly improved. Night and day difference!

I'm still having some insomnia - I have trouble falling asleep, takes now 1-2 hours (I'm the type of person who would be out within 10 minutes of my head hitting the pillow).  

But I'm feeling better and that's all that matters. 

I emailed Dr. C of course to let him know, and I see him Feb. 3. But I WILL NOT go back up on my dose. The side effects are unacceptable. 

See? The two parts don't match.

Sometimes I get annoyed with shit.

No really. I do. Like medication side effects for example. Like side effects that I continue to get from my damn Geodon. Makes me want to cut a bitch.

So here's what's up. Last Friday Dr. C had me increase my dose of Geodon from 80mg to 120mg. He told me to take 80mg at night and 40mg in the morning to stave off morning grogginess. I had been having morning grogginess at the 80mg dose, but it was starting to ease up.

Well, guess what happens when I take my morning dose of Geodon?

That's right. I get groggy. Drowsy. Sometimes so much so that I can't even stand. Seriously. Are you fucking kidding me, Geodon? I mean, what the actual fuck??

Today I decided that I'm not taking that extra 40mg in the morning any more. I'm going to take it all at night. See what that does. If I keep getting groggy like this . . . well, that's a deal breaker. I can't work like this.

Speaking of work, I'm not going back until the 27th at the earliest. I'm not ready. I'm emotionally and mentally exhausted. Just . . . exhausted. Then add in the medication side effects and the akathisia (got that too, joy) and it's a no go. I talked with my manager at length about everything and she supports me 100%. I don't need to worry about work.

Huge weight off my shoulders.

I have nothing else poignant to say. Nothing at all.

So bye.