Trusting doctor, changing meds?

I am really struggling with a decision I want to make, but can't seem to do.  One of my med's side effects is beginning to interfere with my daily life.  The problem is I trust it to my brain, that it is helping with my bipolar symptoms and PTSD.

The side effects are getting worse and there is nothing I can take to take care of it.  I've tried everything natural and prescription wise.  Nothing works.  It is a matter of cutting down on this medication or trying something different all together, both which give me great fear.  So I've been flip flopping back and forth with my decision.  One minute I'm OK with it and the next I'm not.

I see my psych-doc next week.  I'm really beginning to trust her instincts and judgement so I'm hoping she can help me with my decision.  Problem is I don't know that I'm ready for a change.  I'm scared of change.  But I have to do something I can't keep going on like this.  It's hurting others around me besides myself.

So it becomes a huge leap of faith, to trust someone else and letting them help with the decision making.  And right now I need all the help I can get.  

The hardened seeds

When I come here, I feel like I'm looking at myself dead eye in the mirror, so I tend to put it off for as long as I can.

For me it means being dead honest at that moment for as much as I can at that moment.

I had a dream that clarified a person that has haunted me for many years and I found I was only hurting myself by doing what he wanted me to do before he asked or told.

Because I thought I had to.

Like when I was a kid, I was made to eat one brussel sprout even though I hated them.  Eventually as I grew up I still ate that one sprout without being told I had to.  Because that's what I was taught.  I didn't have a choice.  So why bother asking for different.  It was just automatic.

And that's what this abuser has been doing to me all these years, eating that brussel sprout whether I had to or not.  Didn't matter what it was or what I had to do, I just did it without asking.  I was brought up to be a slave and everyone was my master.

There has been a lot of brainwashing in this process, perfected over the years.  Polished.  It has taken years to begin to unravel it and I'm only getting started.

All the important things like self worth, self value, self deserving, self esteem are hardened seeds sitting on cold concrete floor.  Just sitting there.  Waiting.

And I terrified of adding a little dirt and water.  Petrified of what might happen.  Scared they will die.  Scared they will live.  Scared.  Scared.  Scared.

And this is where I am.  Not wanting to go through the corridors to find the room where the seeds lay.  Spilling my handful of dirt as I wobble back and forth.  So if I find them without any dirt, I will prove myself right.  Or I will have barely enough to for them to germinate.  Hmmmm....which do I really want?

Seems like an easy question.  On I trip over every day.  Who will win?  That's the real contest in my head.  Can we destroy her?  Or do I love myself enough to care?

What are the demons you fight every day?      

:)

Man that last post really sticks out.  Harsh and ugly.  Those are the really, really bad days.  Yesterday when I wrote it, it felt normal.  Been there so many times.  Lived it for too long.  So when the monster reared its ugly head again, I finally slayed it by writing in down.  And today I was able to tell myself that I am OK, when I passed the mirror today.  Was even able to look in my eyes for more than a few seconds.  And while those thoughts of self hate are never too far behind, I felt like I was able to face it by looking it directly in the eye with some truth.  And I felt pretty good about that!  :)

I HATE

I watched an elderly woman on the news have her dream come true after being in a semi coma for five years and I looked at her with hate.  Not because of her being able to live her dream, not for being severely ill, but that she was a person.  My self loathing for people had hit rock bottom. 

My husband mentioned it this past weekend, my hate for people.

I didn't know what he was talking about.

After years and years upon years of knowing nothing but self hate from my abusers, it has finally turned outward.  And I'm coming out swinging.

When I finally broke down after watching the news story, I saw my reflection in my dog's eye and cursed it.
Not because of how I felt, but for who I am. 

*Staring in the mirror*
LOOK AT THAT FUCKING BITCH!  WHO THE FUCK DOES SHE THINK SHE IS?  THAT FUCKING CUNT HAS THE GULL TO LOOK BACK AT ME? 
*Turn away quickly*

In about 15 seconds of eye contact with myself, there is nothing but seething hate, disgust, and utter contempt. 

And I'm suppose to say "I love you" to that? 

How does one do that?  I can't fathom.

How do you love yourself, when you don't feel the love?

Coming in

It doesn't take long after having a good run to coast on that runway.  Like hitting a tripwire that can't be avoided.  I can feel the tears swelling in my chest.  Spring is a trigger.  And while I don't think it will be as difficult as in the past, it will be there.  And that's OK.  I think I'm ready for it, more than I've ever been.  Each day I feel a minute braver and more inside myself.  And I think that's pretty cool.  Yeah me!

Heard this and thought of you Meredith:  Alice in Chains-Nutshell -thought you might like it.  :)

Turning to some alternatives

I've been experimenting with green tea, ginseng and B-12/Complex for mental and physical energy without playing with my meds.  Which I would normally do when I've been depressed for months on end with no relief in sight.  Playing doctor only left me in horrible manias that put me right back on my med formula with still no relief.

This experiment is working.

For the first time since I can remember I am waking up with a clear head.  Not that drugged over one I'm used to, which makes for a much better start to the day.  And this is before I have my green tea with ginseng in it.  It is like a miracle.

After I take my morning medications I tend to have a bit of a slump, but it's more like just a dip in the day.  Maybe something that "normal" people have who aren't bipolar and have to constantly regulate their mood swings.  Late afternoon I may take some B-12/Complex or I may just have another half a cup of green tea.  And I'm good.

I've been doing it for almost a week and I still can't get over how clear my mind feels, without that heavy drugged feeling.  I am actually able to think and function shortly after getting up and my days are more productive as well.   I can't remember the last time I just felt happy, to be happy.

And if I get a little manic, my dog Brut is a good barometer.  He reminds me to take a step back and breathe.  He lets me know when I'm getting a little too crazy.

Brut Zen

phantom tree

She turns on the radio as the last of a familiar song filters through her brain.  Staring out over the landscape the music reminds her of a different time and place.  As the words come into focus, so does a large stump several feet from the truck she is sitting in.  As her eyes begin to clear, the stump becomes the central point.  It is a about three feet high and almost the same in diameter.  Oak or maple, she can't be sure, but it seems to speak to her.  The size of this stump is overwhelming enough.  Her eyes follow the line of where the trunk used to be.  Though her view is obstructed by the vehicle,  she is stricken by the enormity of this phantom tree and her communal connection with it.

She feels the loss.  She feels the emptiness of the large space and volume this tree once took.  She feels the death.  She has tried so many times to explain her grief to herself, to try to understand what it is, to define it, but it is the vastness of this phantom tree that paints the picture that she can begin to grasp.

There is a moment when the piercing thought of the view this massive tree was blocking grips her.  The same view that captured her when they stopped.  The same one she would have never noticed was there if the tree was still there.  And for a fleeting second, she thinks it is better that the tree is gone to have this view, but quickly dismissing it as the pain is too great to contemplate.  That what is missing has stunned the woman and her perspective.

She is not sure which is more painful.  The vision of the tree that was or the stump that is there now, but she knows they both represent the loss she feels.  And for now it is a place to start.

© 2013 My Wrenched Brain  (Written in Sept 2011-during the grief of my life and the emptiness that hollowed me from my childhood abuse and reliving it daily at it's peak.)