Showing posts with label mania. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mania. Show all posts

Friday, April 4, 2014

Fuck em

I haven't been writing hardly at all for the last two years.  Either here are anywhere else.  And now I feel back up with all these thoughts and emotions that are all jammed together.  See, I think my abusers might be reading my blog.  And it has been difficult to write.  But as you can tell, I haven't quit yet.  I am not going to let their old fears run my life.  I didn't come this far to be beaten down by them again.  Whether it's just a fear or whether they are really reading.  Fuck em!

Now to carry on...

I've got so many issues that I'm not feeling out and getting out of my head on paper that I've caught myself in my own vortex.  Nothing drastic or harmful, just more of a depression and apathy I'm really struggling with.

Here are some of them:

meds and my weight
depression/apathy/not feeling
losing my manias
PTSD and trying to understand it
struggles with physical and mental energy

Just to name a few.  And that's not mentioning the major life change that happen in our family about a month ago.

So now that I've mentioned my fears, it is time to face them.  One post at a time.  :) 

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Fear of Manias

I'm terrified of manias in general.  They used to be so much fun, but they always turn ugly.  I do everything in my power to keep my anxiety under control.  This also helps the PTSD as it too runs on anxiety.  While there are days I wish I wasn't so stable and boring, it is better than exploding into a full on mania. 

The last major one I had two years ago did me in and made me see things that I had never seen.  Being at home when I should have been in the hospital gave me a completely different perspective and the fear I was placing on others.  Even my dogs were scared of me and I couldn't understand why.  I bawled and bawled when I realized how bad I had gotten.   I was just so out there, I couldn't see anything except every feeling of bursting to the moon.  I thought everyone was in on the game and fun, now as I reflect back, I see how scary I was.   I have no desire to go there again.

Have you found yourself in fear of manias?  Or having a love/hate relationship with them?  I did that for a long time.  A long time because my depression were so long and so low and I couldn't go anywhere but up, up, up.

Now I'm just plain scared.  A healthy fear, like not sticking my hand in the fire.  Trying to do the right things to take care of myself.  Doesn't make it any easier.  Sometimes I just miss being happy.     

Friday, January 10, 2014

Fears, Anxiety and Lucky to Remember

I guess I should get a post into the New Year, before the month slips by.  lol 

Blogger was screwing up with all my blogs and I couldn't get into this one for a while.  Which built on the fears I was already dealing with.  Doesn't take much for paranoia to strike deep as I push through my past abuse.  A little mania that was so much fun started to turn as it always does into fear, anxiety and paranoia.  Tangle in the web of flashbacks and little things from what happened to me that were magnified on that ugly side of mania.

I became semi-paralyzed.  Voices in my head were overcritical and self hating.  I couldn't stop them.  I rebuked, I prayed, they wouldn't stop.  It took several days to remember the voices are part of my PTSD and I finally started taking anti-anxiety pill.

I miss my old doctor so much.  It was with her that I understood further and deeper into my own pysche.
As she directed most of what I was dealing was, was the aftershock and aftermath of the abuse.  And seeing her on a regular basis made such a difference in helping myself out.

So I got some much needed sleep, had dinner with hubby and I'm doing OK.  Feels good to again in control of myself and taking care me.

Thank you Dr. Miller.  Thank you.  Thank you. Thank you.
Next time I will remember sooner, because of you in life I have a choice and chance, because gave me what no one could, the truth.       

Monday, May 20, 2013

Well that was a trip...

So the doctor and I came to an agreement about changing meds.  I was still uncertain whether to do it or not before I went in, but I wanted to address my side effect concerns.  A reduction on one, an increase in the other lead me to a mania I was unprepared for.  Never occurred to me that it could happen.  No warnings from doc.  What ever made me think that I wouldn't go into one was beyond me.  It built up over five days and I thought it was just the meds starting to kick in, then everything was out of whack for the following five days.  I tried to wait for it to balance out, but it didn't.  So I went back to my previous med regiment.  There was a notable difference the next day.  It's taken a couple of days but my brain and body and starting to come around.  And then...the crash.  Never as far as deep as what they used to be, but still I missed being happy, before the mania took it's turn for the worse this time.

I've been stable and becoming more and more stable, like really sinking into this balance and stability that it really threw me for a loop to change my medications and run up against a drug induced mania, that I didn't have any control over.  I bawled when I went back on my regular medication out of fear and the terror of losing such control over my mind.  Because one of the side effects of the meds is they slow down my metabolism and I am overweight.  I've struggled with my meds and my body for a long time, but as I cried I realized it wasn't worth losing my mind over it.  It wasn't worth what I went through in that mania and the fear it invoked for the extra pounds I have to deal with.  I also realized that I've accepted my body as is and that I'm OK with it, if it means having a sound mind.  In fact it is more than OK, it is worth it.

So while I still try to eat right, exercise and take care of myself, I believe everything has a way of working itself out.  And that includes my weight.  In time, it will all be worth it, because I am worth it.

Monday, September 24, 2012

I think I can dig this being alive thing...

Not really sure what I'm doing here.  Somehow I just felt the need to be here.  Every time I think why do I have this blog, should I get rid of it, I find myself here.

Right now I just want to be around all the love that matters to me.  I've had several first times about wanting to live, in fact I've written quite a few on this blog, but this is the first that the feeling and desire is standing up to the test of time.  I just want to revel in the love that surrounds me from my family and being as much a part of that as I can.  I want to be still and soak it in.  I want to run free with it and I want to hold all my family until the end of time.  For the last few months I can't imagine that anything could change that belief.  And it's more than just running on a high or mania, it is like I'm finally catching up with everything that is good in my life and finding out more and more every day how much they matter to me.  I've got to believe this is the longest I've ever gone wanting to live and doing so well handling the belief.  It isn't a feeling that just comes and goes with a flip of the coin or change in the wind.  It's really here.

My biggest problem is I have all of these ideas and I don't know where to start or how to begin.  I made some decision in just the last week that should have sent me over the top, but I started managing my time, made some changes that fit me and who I am and I'm doing it.  I'm actually doing it.  Without the world ending or crashing down on me or falling into the deep pit.  AND without the feeling this is all going to end.  That I can handle it.  Somehow, someway, with some faith and a little muscle I can do what I love and get paid for it.  And it feels solid, like a rock, believing with all my heart I can do it.

All my hard work of healing from the past is paying off.  All my years of playing with meds and my disorder is paying off.  I feel like I'm already half way up the mountain and I haven't left the ground yet.  Or have I?  lol.  It feels good.  It's a nice feeling.  Being so unattached to the past and seeing a future.  It's a good place to be.  

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Firing neurons...

I can feel my brain's engine revving up and I am getting scared.  Before I would lavish in this firing up of energy and power.  Maybe this is a sign of maturity?  All I know is that I'm trying to harness and contain the burning passion so that I am not scorched by it.  I never thought I'd see the day when I didn't love a good hypomania.  And so I'm trying to relax into it while staying on red alert.  Keeping away from triggers as much as I possibly can.  It scares my after my last year and half long mania that took me to the breaking point and landed me in the hospital just 3 months ago.  I just don't know if I'm ready for this.  My anxiety is building and medicines don't do everything.  God help me.  I'm so afraid of going backwards.  Leaving me no choice but to go forward.  And so I'm trying to just take baby steps and knowing when to stop and breathe again.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Feeling good



When I'm doing well, I don't seem to come around here much.  I'd like to change that.  My mood has been pretty stable this past week.  No major setbacks or flashbacks, just a few minor ones that didn't even require an anti-anxiety pill.  I've been pretty tired though on my meds, (the drastic heat doesn't help either), but right now it's a small price as I'm still functional and just tend to lay low during day until the cooler evenings come. 

It's still all a bit strange to me, this PTSD, though I've probably been going through it for some time now.  I have always for some reason been very against taking anti-anxiety pills.  I think I thought there was really no reason for them and that you were a wuss for needing them and anxiety should be toughened out, but they have been a life saver.  I only take them as needed and it is few and far between of really needing them, but they have made a world of difference in my recovery.  Something I'd never thought I'd say.  I didn't really understand the complexity of my anxiety and how it was sending me into manias and racing thought depression because so many things are a trigger from my past.  And the fear was scathing to say the least.  I am pretty amazed at how much that little pill helps to get me back to some form cognitive reasoning instead wanting to scalp myself.  Yes, it's about that drastic.

At my request my doc up my anti-depressant.  I'm still not totally sure if if was necessary or not, but I think now after a couple of weeks I'm beginning to feel the difference that I was in doubt of.  Before I was having crying spells, depression and even coming back to the thoughts of not wanting to live.  Oh the dreaded cycle.  And it all seems to be working itself out.  So I'm on the mend and it feels good.  And it feels good to feel good. I could get used to this.  :) 

Friday, June 29, 2012

The Next Phase: PTSD

Riding this wave of manias and depressions, I have always known one thing, it was all related to my past.  When I would take that dive down it was to bring up another hidden truth and when I took that jump up it was another revelation of my childhood abuse that would set me free.  So now I've been told that while still bipolar, I have PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and I seem to be playing on a completely different ball field where I don't know the rules. 

Before it all made sense, everything fit together like a puzzle as each piece was found and added, each piece breaking me free from that past.  After I had the complete picture, everything seem to fall apart.  Like staring at the aftermath of a disaster for the past year or so and I can't seem to look away.  It has been a slow process as I keep unraveling at the seams over and over again.  I just can not believe the amount of pain I've endured at such a young age and that still haunts me today.  And my mind can't seem to move forward from it.  Now all of that info I've collected to help find the truth has stunted me and I am struggling to know what to do with it and how to process it so that it doesn't continue to harm me.  I'm at a loss.  My highs and lows are now it seems only to relive and trap me in the past.  It is difficult not to give in.  As much as I dislike it, I'm doing my best to listen to my psych-doc.  What she says makes sense as far as the PTSD and these little parts are clicking in my head with this new understanding, but it is taking time.  Time I'm impatient with and can get lost in if I get caught off guard.  It's like after all of this time of digging through the tunnel of my past and finally being able to come up for air only to realize I am no where close to being done and the horizon is much further than I could imagine.  I guess for some reason I thought finding the truth would be the end and it is only another beginning.  A beginning that has me way out of sorts and is all new to me. And as scary as it all is the PTSD diagnoses does give me an answer.  A definition.  A base to work with.  Now I just need to learn how to work with it to continue the healing that I've worked so hard for.

I didn't come all this way just to turn around and give up.  I do know that much.  :) 

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Crying out

I am rapid cycling.  I am falling off the ends of the Earth about 10-15 times a day.  I've been doing it for a while, but became very conscious of it the last few weeks and I can't take it.  I've tried every natural supplement, vitamin, meditation, prayer and I continue to plummet into the bowels of what feels like death and I can't get out. I finally made an appointment with my doctor.  I've been off an antidepressant for almost four years and I have been fighting with whether to go back on or not.  These weekend was the tip off.  I can't live this way with so much mental torture and I finally decided I don't have to.  The kicker was after a week of crashing into what I call 'the dead zone' and literally feeling like a walking zombie where everything felt dead, my slight mania of false hope was not worth the reward it use to be for living through this hell and I knew then and there I needed help.  I can not begin to explain the barbaric nature of these fall outs but they have played havoc with me, not to mention my family.  It didn't matter if I did something I loved and had a few minutes of great feelings the bottom would fall out immediately afterwards and I would find myself in places no person should ever have to go and I couldn't get myself out.  And I'm too tired and exhausted to try anymore, but mostly I shouldn't have to.  I should not have to spend 90% of day trying to pull myself out of the gutter, only to turn around and fall back in it.  It shouldn't be this hard or painful.  My entire life has been this painful and I not 'enjoying' it anymore.  I flip flopped all week after making that appointment and if it wasn't for my husband who sat and waited until I did, I would have never followed through.  I needed the help.  It has been making that appointment that gave me some foundation to hold onto, while I struggle and fought whether I was worth this fight or not and if it would help or not.  I'd rather find out if it works because I'm not going to make it going like this.

Oh, I suppose there will still be some reservations when I walk in that office and there is a part of me that will want to fight for my independence and not feel like a whimpering baby, my self preservation is that strong, but I don't want to fight anymore.  I can't do it without medication.  I've willingly tried everything I know and it isn't working.  It doesn't work for me.  I am one of those cases that needs a pill or I'm going to need a grave plot and I'd rather take a pill.  I haven't come this far and work so hard to nail my own coffin.

I think just recognizing I need the help and making a decision lightened half the load.  I've been on the fence for a long time.  The depressions have never been worth it, but I don't think I realized that the manias are no reward either.  And that was the straw that confirmed my decision.  Wish me luck!    

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

I just forgot

I read a meditation the other day, that reminded me, I am still bipolar and how easy it is to forget.  Last month's mania while came as a shock, I knew all the signs were there.  Red flags were waving like a parade and I thought I could handle it.  I had no idea that a true blown mania was about to explode.  Yet, I knew I was holding on to a very fine thread, I just didn't realize it had broke.  I became so engrossed with my past and healing from it, I missed everything.  I was even beginning to have the thoughts of feeling like, "hospital material," and it still didn't occur to me.  I do like I do with most things, deny or plow through it.  I still can't believe it actually happened.

It was easy to question if I wasn't the extreme bipolar that I am.  As my symptoms lessened and I began to make great strides from my past and the healing changes were actually happening, being bipolar became the furthest from my mind.  I was still sinking and rising, but they've become such a natural part of my being I didn't notice them anymore.  I had also begun rapid cycling and really didn't have much time to think about anything as my moods and thoughts shifted so quickly.  The amazing thing was that I was still tending to these quick changes and taking care of myself the best way I knew how.  Small manias and depression have been a part of my ebb and flow, even if they could be counted in minutes rather days, I just never thought any different about it.

I think another thing about this mania that threw me off was I was still on my meds.  I hadn't quit any of them and continued to take them as I always have.  Usually I've quit taking them for at least a year before having a crisis, but this time was different.  So it caught me off guard, which is why I ignored the warnings and found myself unprepared.  This past year has been building to this manic stage and most of it comes down to pressure.  Outside and inside.  As I tried to put the pieces of my damage life back together, it kept being blown apart by outside forces and I felt like one person against an army that I couldn't defeat.  Hell, I didn't think God could defeat it, how the hell was I?  All of this internal pressure finally combusted and the greatest lesson I learned was that nothing I ever said, did, or thought EVER warranted the abuse.  All of this time I had been scanning my whole life, turning over every rock because I believed there had to be a reason, ANY reason why I was hurt so badly as a child.  I kept thinking that I HAD to have done SOMETHING, for them to treat me so bad.  And so I have been hunting through ever corner of my mind, digging deep into my gut, tearing down every wall I ever built looking for what I had done, that gave them a legitimate excuse for the horror they put me through.  And I couldn't find it.  I couldn't find ANYTHING that I ever could of done, thought or said or even had an idea about that gave them the full rights to violate me any way they pleased.

IT WASN'T MY FAULT.     

And for so many years, I didn't know.  No matter how many times someone told me, there was no way to believe them.  I hadn't finished my search.  I just knew I had to have done SOMETHING and I found out, I didn't.  No matter what I found out about myself and them, no matter what I remembered or my behaviors that stemmed from the abuse, I discovered I did nothing to deserve this.  And that every time they told me that I did, 

IT WAS A LIE.  
EVERY TIME 
A FLAT OUT LIE

THEY DID WHAT THEY DID BECAUSE THEY WERE EVIL.

So there is a reason I missed all the warning signs and red flags of my mania,
I was on an important mission setting my soul free.  :) 

Monday, March 19, 2012

I need meds

During my mania, I felt my like brain was stripped down raw.  I had a fear I was never coming back and I was horrified of living my life in my head that way forever.  Being at home, instead of in a hospital, things move at a different pace and the reality of the effect I was having on my family was poignant when my husband said those magic words:  When's the last time you took your meds?

I remember the relief that shot though my spine and the hope when he said that.  The hope that there was an answer and a way out of this scathed environment.  I wanted to down the whole bottle to get better faster being that I was in the hallows of every paranoia and fear that I had and it had been days since I'd slept.  We played a little doctor to get my levels safely up until I began to stabilize after a day or two.  Since I hadn't stopped my meds all together, just had reduced them, it didn't take very long to begin to even out.  And being that during this mania I had went through a sort of cleansing of my body, when I went back to taking my meds it was easy to feel that I needed them.  If that makes any sense.

I need meds.  It is just that simple.  The extremes of my experience warrant that right now.  And I'm tired of trying to make it different.  Yes, it is a dream to be med free some day, but I don't have to do it all right now and if it doesn't happen, I'm OK with that.  This last mania was a good proving point.  I'm tired of thinking that meds are so evil and awful and part of the cooperate big shots money making machine.  What product isn't?  I have found two medications that work for me and help in my sanity, well being and I could bow in grateful tears every day being able to have my wrenched brain back in my hands again.  So certain I had lost it forever.  If it takes a pill to do that, I am all for it.  I don't ever want to feel that way again and not know if I will ever be able to come back.  Doesn't matter if it doesn't work for anyone else or not, all I know is that is works for me and realizing I'm the one who must take care of me.  I'm not promoting anything except what works for me and the life lesson I had to go through to find out.  My brain is precious to me, saved me through many horrors in my life and the last thing I want to do is harm it further.   And I am grateful for the meds that allow me not to do that.  And for this wrenched brain that is a beautiful blessing.  

Monday, January 9, 2012

2012

I didn't think I would make it here.  Honestly I didn't know how far I would get through 2011.  Mentally.  I wasn't sure if I would have any capacity to hang to when last year started.  It was the closest I'd come to relishing in the thought of death in a long time. 

I conquered fears I'd never intended to think about trying to do the right things for myself.  For not only did I face them, they lead me down a different path of learning to trust myself.  I've been getting in touch with deep seeded anger that I have feared and learning to channel it in a more positive direction; instead of stuffing it back down and trying to destroy myself with it. 

My hypo manic thoughts are blending with my sadness.  My brain almost never turns off or shuts down since reducing my Respirdol six months ago.  It has been a new challenge calming down the constant flow of thoughts.  Like a sponge soaking in new material and ideas while witnessing some of the best moments of my life, I want to take it all in now.  

I think the biggest thing I learned surviving 2011 is that I want to live.  And I want to be alive.  While I will always want to escape life at those times when it is too much to bear, or have thoughts of not wanting to go on, I am feeling again.  Like a giant light has flooded my brain and body and showing me everything that is worth living for.  And that includes me.  2011 wasn't about just making it through, it was a fight for myself and if I was worth the battle for me.  As grueling as it was coming out of the trenches, I found I was more than worth it, but that I could do it.

So as we start our journey around the sun, I finally feel like I here, for once standing among you and it is right where I belong.

Happy New Year! 

Friday, August 12, 2011

Tumbling

I was talking to people.  Ideas were exploding in my head.  The energy was addictive.  I was alive and every neuron in my brain felt invigorated.  I was walking through fears that have plagued me from the beginning.  I was high on anxiety and tripping over the excitement.  I couldn't write fast enough or just enough in general. I felt like I was gripping a blazing horse whipping by the world.  And even the fear couldn't hold me down.  It was electric.

Until I began tumbling ever so gently down the mountain and didn't see what was happening, until there I was sitting and looking up and where I'd fallen from.

"What...what just happened?  What is going on?  How did I get here?  I was just up...there."  "There must be some mistake.  You can't do this to me.  I thought we were done with this game.  How could you do this to me again?"  My face frozen in shock, my body weary with defeat.  This can't be happening again.  I sit and look at that hill, determine to crawl up if I have to.  Every movement feeling broken and stiff and I crumple under the weight of trying to get back up that hill as a gentle hand holds me back.  NO!  Please don't keep me here.  The loving arms hold me while I weep in exhaustion, pain and sadness.  "It is time to be quiet and rest," the caring voice whispers.  "Take this time to mourn and breathe.  I am right here and I will not let go.  There will be time to fly again, but for now it is time to be still."

 

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

ZOOM!!

As I mindlessly went through the motions of life the last nine months I began to wonder if my bipolar was over.  Despite the fact of being suicidal three time during that time period.  I had all the reasons "why."  I understood the source.  There was no doubt my past fueled my bipolar, yet I was hanging just under the radar long enough to make me wonder if this was how it was going to be. It was my longest depression in years and I kept cycling through varying degrees of it.   I'd lost interest in everything including living and then I'd be OK. The duration took me by surprise and then became a normal way of life.  Maybe this is how it suppose to be.  Maybe I was finally balancing out.  Seeing that depressions has been a normal state of mind for me most of my life and manias didn't incorporate themselves until much later.

Then the rip cord flew.  A question I couldn't answer lead to an intense search and rescue that began to rocket me through that messy place in my gut that existed long ago.  A rush of feelings that gave new meaning as I connected in a place I never knew was there. I shot to moon on a speck of love that suddenly became apparent then hung on as my jet pack dove into a flashback of the ultimate fear.  The paranoia vivid as I laid paralyzed in its reality.  I circled around and shot back and forth as I snatched up every truth as they made themselves known.  Painting my world a new color.  Anger, fear, sadness and happiness were suddenly my new four corners.  I had them all.

As I came in for my landing, I stood on solid ground and looked around.  My world was suddenly brighter, fuller, beautiful and ugly, but it was whole.  When I meshed with that little girl, I was suddenly able to feel everything I had been missing.  All of the secrets she held, were the precious stones I had been looking for all this time.  And this is only the beginning...

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Feelings, Medications, and Options

I have really been struggling to write.  My words sound broken and my sentences and ideas feel choppy to me.  I have struggled with having any emotion as if there is a blockage in my frontal lobe.  At the same time I feel like I have an opening in the back of my head as if a window has been open and a rush of fresh air is creating a cleansing.  I am OK with this for the most part, except in my writing.  I have always written to feel and I feel to write, emotions have always been the building blocks of my expression and now I feel like I can't express myself.

I don't know if it comes across to anyone else, but I feel the crackling in my thoughts and how I can not find the right words and ideas that run so smoothly thru my head.  There are points through the day when I feel a welling of tears swelling in my eyes that can not be released.  While at the same time I feel this cool breeze through my brain telling me everything is alright.  I almost don't whether I want to laugh or cry or do both.

On the sixth day of taking my new anti-depressant I felt like I'd smoked a bong.  I immediately quit taking it.   I had no intentions of going through a drug induced mania or any other side effects that may come with this or any other medications.  I have made it three years without anti-depressants and realized that adding chemicals to my body was not going to solve my problems, when 90% of them are in my head.  I am quite comfortable being on the meds I am currently on and would like to continue weaning off them instead of adding more complications.

The great thing about realizing there are options is that it opens the door for more options.  Just being able to express my thoughts and feelings about my first appointment with my therapist, gave me more choices to choose how I wanted to handle our first time meeting.  I have decided to meet with her for the two hour intake.  It is so easy for me to back myself into a corner and cram myself inside this box where I am trapped with no way out, that just having the option to have options helped me to pop out that box and stand on my own two feet.  I would also like to thank everyone who commented on that post with such love and support.  What a wonderful feeling to have such a rally behind me to encourage me on my journey.  It is greatly appreciated.

So all in all, I am OK.  Little ups and downs.  A few tears, some laughter.  Stopping and going.  I am anxious and calm.  Some excitement, some stresses, but I am here.  And while there are many days I don't realize what a gift that can be, today I do feel it is.  

Monday, April 4, 2011

The Passage



My senses are extra sensitive on normal days, but in a hypomanic stage, it is like every nerve is pushing through my skin.  My right hand seems to have a cluster of sensory cells in the center of my palm that can be almost painful to the touch. 

My senses are in overdrive in the spring and I am prone to manias as my body wakes up to the changing season and the worst month associated with my abuse.  It is like a double whammy.  The tension running through my body is like an electrical current that never shuts down and my right hand will cramp into a fist because of the power surge that emulates through my palm.  My body is on guard, setting up for the defense of the attacks that have happened before during my childhood abuse.  It is making itself ready to protect what I will be living through for the next few months as my brain relives the abuse again.  This is when the core of what happened to me started and I am preparing.

One of the biggest triggers I have is heat and dry air.  Winter is my comfort zone, mentally I thrive better in the colder temperatures.  I feel safer in the winter.  The cold, the solitude, the isolation.  Whereas in the warmer weather, I feel like I have a fever, I feel like I can't breathe, I panic and feel dizzy, all while being in a constant state on being "on."  Right now the weather has been fluctuating between warm and cold letting me test out my coping skills and preparing me for what is to come.  The intensity is no where near the levels they have been at and I keep dipping my toes and slowly wading in the shallow water, finding out what works and what doesn't when it warms and the sun is out.  So far, so good.  I have been experimenting with different options while I still have the break of the cooler weather to fall back on.  Which has taught me the biggest key to my recovery.  Taking those breaks when I need them.  Be it the middle of the day or during the dogs walk time or whenever.  It doesn't matter, I'm learning when I need to push myself and when I need to step back and rest without guilt.  This makes a HUGE difference.  I've begun to recognized that is more than my body that needs the timeout, but more importantly my brain.  Another HUGE difference.  I've been taking some pretty bold steps in my recovery and have realized that I need some mental reprieve just to take in these major accomplishments.  To give myself the credit for when I've done something and to examine my thoughts and feelings about them.  It doesn't take much to get overwhelmed or wrapped in the grips of fear and I've begun to learn how to bypass those snowballs effects, by stopping and regrouping.  It is all in the beginning stages, but damn it feels so good to be in control of myself!  To not be plowed down by the beliefs of my past abuse and be able to grab it by the balls, before it grabs me.  And that is just fucking awesome!!

This spring will be an interesting one.  I'm sure I will get thrown off the trail more than once and there will be days that the past will have me, but I already feel like I've got one up on it.  I still have the truth backing me up every step of the way and no one, NO ONE, can take that away from me!!          

 

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Spring Fever



I find myself in a very fragile state and yet I am secure and comforted.  My past abuse took a turn for the worst in the springtime and it is still my most difficult time of year.  Anxiety and fears rip through me, usually sending me into obscure manias.  Intense manias where it seems every sensory cell on my body is magnified.  I become overwhelmed by the slightest touch, even if it is just the wind.  My eyes have felt like they are wired open while any sounds feel like thunder in an enclosed room.  I become feverishly hot and chilled at the same time making me want to jump out of my own skin.

If I walk outside, I feel a sense of vulnerability and exposure as if I am running naked with an open wound through my chest.  I relive the abuse through my senses and mind as if I am running into a war zone.  I am sensitive to everything I touch, feel and think.

There is no question of why.  I have all the info from my abuse to know what is happening now, it is taking those baby steps to protect my inner most self that I need to take care of me.  Simple steps that I learned in the hospital.  Take your meds, eat three meals a day, exercise, and most important TALK.  I had another purging with my husband as the weight of my world had taken me to a dark place.  Spring has always been a crucial point whether I would end up in the hospital or not.  Instead I am setting up my own safe haven in my home.  Where I am protected and safe and feel I have the best chance of going through this battle that is about to bestow on me.  I feel more prepared than I have in the past as the healing of the truth has helped lessen my 'spring symptoms.'  I am not alone, my husband and my protective dogs will help me in my fight.  I have lower my expectations of what I will accomplish for the next few months and I am looking at this as if I have an injury and need the time to rehabilitate myself.  I am trying to stay conscious within my own mind for the earliest triggers and then exposing them before they roll out of control and I become it's victim.  I've have been learning that prevention is key.  It is much easier to pick up a stone and throw it, than trying to stop a rolling boulder ready to plow you down.  Right now the key to my success is centering on me and what I need to do for myself, not anyone else.  Whatever that means for me to do.  Taking every little bit as it comes and not doing it alone.  I haven't come this far to go back.  I believe I can do this with help.  I believe with everything in me that I can make it through this time period and come through on the other side.  I have already begun the journey. I want to know what it is like to be kind and compassionate to myself.  Words that have stuck in my head.  Thanks Natalie.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Breaking It All Down

Have you ever heard of Tom Wotton?  He explores changing our thinking and well being about being bipolar.  I must have commented once on his blog Bipolar Advantage at PsychCentral because he sends me an email when he has written another post.  He has just started another blog on Psychology Today. (here)  He also has a few books about the subject. 

I have found my past year of being bipolar very different from those before.  I find myself at a crossroads and needing direction.  Letting go of my abusive past has exhausted all my energy and I am rather depleted.  I am struggling to maintain.  I remember being more active and happier before I quit taking antidepressants and find myself wanting to go back on them.  The depression I feel is just under the line and honestly I don't want to go back to taking any more meds, but I am struggling with finding an alternative and I can't seem to do it on my own anymore. 

One thing I discovered today was that I need to relearn how to do things that I used to do.  Being a recovering addict, I know that learning how to do things without a drink or drug in my hand can be quite overwhelming, scary and challenging.  Remembering everything about my past has also taken up most of my time and life and I am learning all over again what it means to function through the day without letting my past rent space in my head and following old behaviors.  Without having the extremes of mania and depression wrecking havoc on my daily life, I suddenly have a ton a free time that I don't know what to do with and find it difficult to get started and focus on one thing.  I have been so used to being almost incapable to doing things, that when I find something to do, I begin to shut down. You would think that having this extra time and space in my mind, it would be easy to fill it up, but I find I go into lock down mode, paralyzed with how to make that first step.  I still have this crushing weight that I can't seem to begin to break down and I am exhausted carrying it around. 

I am at a point I have never been at and never expected to reach.  I don't know how to cope with it.  I'm still waiting for the bomb to drop.  There have been moments when I have reached past this deadlock and felt the sky and warm air, but most of the time I shelter myself out of habit and fear.  I am at a stuck point and trying to figure out of to take that next step. 

When I read Tom Wotton's blog article today and it made me realize that I need extra help through these next phases of my life and even though I don't know what that means, acknowledging it is a good start.  I'm at a point that I've admitted I needed help in these areas of my life, because I am clueless with what to do from here.  I will even have to break down and ask for my husband's help.  I've gone as far as I can and now it is time to let go of the reins and let him guide me.  Lord, help me!  :)    

Sunday, February 27, 2011

The Brain Wreck

I don't know what has happened, but ever since of learning about the death of person I knew, my brain has come unhinged.  What completely made sense before and the pieces were coming together has now but fallen apart.  Like stripping me down to my core.  I am angry.  Angry at the loss of control when everything was feeling so solid and complete.  I have been crying and shaking, exhausted and empty.  I am pretty sure it is a trigger and I think I have figured out what, but it is still unsettling.  My feelings are quite haywire, shooting off every which way.  I don't know know how much is really connected to the death of this person, but it has set of alarms in my head that I can't seem to shut down.  I am fighting it hard to shut it down.  I don't want to accept the possibilities and find the real cause.  I don't want to just go with the flow.  I've had a good run with being secure and stable and nothing coming up from the past again and this has made it more difficult because it is jarring me loose.  It has rattled my brain so hard I almost can't take it.  My feelings and thoughts are completely irrational and all over the map.  I'm taking it out on everyone including myself.  And I can't seem to stop it.  And I just want to stop it.  No matter how much I know I can't or that it will not help, I want all the screaming in my head to just stop!  Every time I try to let go of the past, it comes back and latches onto my brain and I can't take it.  When is this nightmare going to end??  How long do I have to live with what they did to me??  How I am ever going to get a chance to really heal when I'm a manic mess??  How do I stop this train wreck barreling through me again and again??  I'm tired.  So very tired.  All I want to do is sleep.  Curl up in bed and sleep and sleep and sleep.  Will there ever be any real peace? 

Monday, January 31, 2011

Living the Gift

I've have come to find that bipolar is more than what I thought it was.  For me it is an exasperated reaction to a trauma I was unable to process at a very young age.  I couldn't say if it is genetic, but I do believe my mother was undiagnosed.  They may be a predisposition but due to the extreme natural and duration of my abuse, it is hard to tell.

In my abuse the extremes were as violent as a rapid cycler.  Sever highs and lows as I felt like I was hanging on to a rocket for dear life, only for it to come crashing down and plummet through the center of hell.  I was also drugged during these times which intensified the extremes and the delusions as well as paranoia.  The abuse and drugs alone were enough to make me bipolar and mess with my brain's chemistry. 

I have no way to decipher the beginning of my abuse or bipolar, as to me they have always been there.  I survived my abuse through dissociation, which included my bipolar.  To me it was a separate entity happening in my brain, with it's own compartment and life.  When I realized that my abuse and bipolar were because of each other, I started down a path of merging the two. 

Being bipolar wasn't a tick that was infesting my brain nor a disease that was separate from myself.  The chemicals in my brain went haywire trying to survive what was happening to me.  This was how I learnt to cope through such a horrible trauma.

I began to see that my delusional thought patterns were in accordance with my bipolar thoughts, during manias and depressions.  It was during the infusion of these two parts coming together that I began to realize how they worked together and thus began a healing that drastically changed the way I looked at my bipolar.  I found they were connected and then learned how to use these extreme highs and lows in my healing process.  Usually, as a push and pull fight of another memory that was coming to surface that would prepare me so that I could further exploit the truth out of it.  I began to see bipolar as a gift. 

If I really sit back and look at every miracle that has happened in my life and having the opportunity to sit and write about it at this present time, I am blown away and humbled.  For as cruel as this world can be, there is still grace and hope.  There is still a chance to live and be loved.  Somehow I was given something to hold on to to make it this far in life and I believe we all have that chance. 

Thank you for being part of my world.