Journey Beyond Survival

It costs $13,000 to have a relaxing drug induced retreat after psychosis My daughter says she still remembers mommy like that Every time someone says I sound good, I wonder if I'm manic I put my kids to bed at night I help with homework The love of my life has me just as much as I have him I have a sassy groove that's manageable I'm not a perfectionist self righteous prude anymore (much) Life is good I would have given up all of those to avoid this diagnosis of bipolar-nos.  I nearly did.  I can no longer say, "I would NEVER do that" because I simply don't know anymore that I wouldn't.  I know a lot of you out there are weighing the pro's and cons of medication. No, it's not just one. I know more of you than I can count on both hands are either ashamed you are, or can't bear the thought of doing it. Even though you're worried you should. Get checked out.  Just see.  You might be relieved. The thing is, my diagnosis is what I...

I've been worried lately. I can't sleep easily. I've had kids disrupting my sleep. I've had bouts of insomnia dealing with 'brilliant' ideas. I'm buying things I want. That I deserve and have been putting off for a long time. But a lot at once. These are manic or hypomanic symptoms, since they aren't really disrupting my life. Yet. Nor will they. I'm nipping them in the bud. Gently, because I have been very restrictive in my budget for myself. But also because I've been fighting these overwhelming feelings that I'm a failure. Like no matter how long I stay on the hamster wheel nothing ever gets better in my life. So many things aren't going right. My blogs (three now, HELLO jbs) are all experiencing a few technical difficulties. That takes my time. I'm exploring a new schedule that lets me have a little spiritual/meditation time. That is hard. This makes me in a mixed state which I think you'll agree is pre...

I get asked about psychosis quite a bit. People are fascinated with the actual break from reality. Horrified and yet unable to look away. What I find much more important, is how NOT to get there. I find that most books about mental health are either too sterile or they are condescending. At least, I do now. When I am desperate I buy a bunch of books and try to make their assessments fit myself. The books do help me gain quite a bit of insight, but sometimes an outside trained person, like a therapist, in front of me is what it takes. So, this is what I do when everything is going wrong in my life.  I think you'll find it's very similar to a lot of self-care recommendations: exercise balanced diet prayer positive affirmations scheduled routine prioritize relaxation exercises realistic limits All of them work.  All of them help.  They do not make reality go away.  They are not like drugs, sex, or alcohol.  But they do work.  My reality i...

For a quick synopsis. I went to FitBloggin March 19th. Washington DC on March 31st North Carolina on April 1st Chickadee presented her Cement Colon April 2nd I got little exercise and lots of drama for one week I met MrsFatass I went home to small town Midbest on April 12th Chickadee received her new wheelchair on April 13th April 15th was when I tortured Chickadee. I also binged on a full plate of cookies April 15th Hubbend's Daddy died April 16th I threw tantrums at Chickadee's nurses and pleaded with her doctors I finally got a Pediatric GI appointment in July I pled with the Developmental Pediatrician She got Chickadee "jackhammers" for her cement problem Chickadee got an earlier appointment for June Hubbend came home Ten hours later we went to Chicago I taught the women's meeting at church I went to Indianapolis on Monday Yesterday I had two of Chickadee's therapists come I did laundry for my Beansprout and Hubbend leaving for Phoenix Why? Because I...

* uppity date: I am conquering my desire to remain abed and stuff my face with my heritage. Yes, my genes likely gave me bipolar NOS. However, they also gave me the INABILITY to remain abed. So, while I-though I pray not-may stuff my face, I am so fortunate as to be unable to do what I fantasized in the previous post. I'll be back tomorrow. You're not that lucky. Har. Har.* I am so grateful though that I can get out of bed. And have been able to through everything but the first trimester of my pregnancies. It's the worst thing in the world if you can't. *photo by Soo-Sun*

This post was inspired by MrsFatass who posted a sweet comment yesterday. Here is the smaller portion that struck me because of where I am: I am proud of you for sure, but nervous for you because your hands are so full. I decided it's time for another mental health post. I do it about once a week. Just so you can avoid it if you hate the crazy talk. Because I am certifiable. Remember? In fact, I'm certified. Because we came back a day late I missed my appointment with my psychiatric nurse. I'm just trying to be honest here, this is a huge reason why I write this blog. I needed a place to talk about bipolar NOS. I need a plan to keep mania at bay. In the next state or country if possible. Hypomania and a mixed state are also about as welcome as a bloated deer waving it's dead feet in the wind of the freeway traffic. So here is my plan from easiest to hardest: Pop all 4 crazy pills EVERY DAY write a blog post EVERY DAY reschedule with psychiatric nurse post...

When taking Ambien: Hide car keys in an unusual place Chain and lock the fridge Remove phone battery Nobody likes to feel out of control. Life can catch us off guard. Sometimes it is a medical issue that haunts us: I whine repeatedly about being on medicine that is "known to be responsible for significant amounts of weight gain". Try 10+ pounds! Not to mention the other medicine that caused 35 pound weight gain even though I only took it for a month. Not water weight. Believe me. Helen at Doing A 180 has a thyroid condition. She said, "I was running 40-50 miles a week, eating just enough to sustain myself and gained 25 pounds?!" Other times we are told to buck up. To move on. Get over "it". Sometimes it's a mental issue: I know you guys are dreadfully sick of me and my Elephants but, Elephants can kill us. I don't know very many bloggers[people] that admit this. But one in four of us have a mental disorder . Even if I take two of them (j...

Today I slept in. Because I haven't in a couple of weeks. No, just kidding. I slept in today because I stayed up late last night trying to catch up. I don't know what I'm trying to catch up to, I just know that I vaguely remember being able to do better. Exhausting right? I read a blog post yesterday that exhausted me because she was expecting way too much of herself in my opinion. I'm afraid I tried to explain that to her, gently of course. I can be gentle. What I realized after I posted my comment was that I needed to apply the information to myself. I'm the one trying way too hard to do way too many things. Too fast and too well. I'm sure that it is possible, but it's like running at a marathon winning pace of 12mph for me. I am incapable of succeeding at that. Not exactly rocket science right? So, sorry dear Sarah. It's not you. It's me tending toward Unattainable Perfectionism. I am being gentler to myself today. I stayed asl...

So, I've been thinking about this a lot since Saturday. I posted about my 'elephants in the room'. Or, the reasons why I'm anonymous on Blogger. I expected to have a mass exodus of followers leaving my blog. Because-living incognito-I hear a lot of opinions on bipolar. Most of them are NOT good. I did not expect an outpouring of support and friendship. I did not expect people to be accepting. Huh. Add into that the fact that Chickadee has a test this week, and I found out yesterday she needs glasses. This is where my cookie derailment began. I ate five Saturday. Five the next day. Two on Monday and the cookies were gone. Yesterday I opened a bag of gummi worms and 3 Musketeers minis and had a serving of the first and 1/2 a serving of the second. So, I will have to start over again on the weaning myself off sugar. I've been wondering. Why did I do that? Was it because I do not accept myself as much as the commenters? Or because I was fearing rejecti...

WEIGHT: 210.6 (-4.4 since last week!) BMI: 29.4 (NO LONGER OBESE, barely ) %BODY FAT: 34.01% (-9.14%!!!!) blurb: wahoooeeee!!!! Kathyj333 posted a comment yesterday that really got me thinking. She commented on how she really related to my profile description. The part where I say that two years of life had generally revealed the person I thought I left behind. It struck me again. I try to be real here on my bloggy. But, there are a few elephants in the room. Since thinking about her comment, I've thought about several facts about myself that I am still trying to leave behind. Hide from. I have lost 30 pounds or more three times in my life. Each time I kept it off for at least two years. It comes back when something life altering occurs. Something negatively life altering. FACT: I have a label I've run away from for ten years. Two years ago a doctor put it on my permanent record. Someone close was diagnosed with bipolar I when I was 18. Close enough biologically th...

I'm fine right? Of course I'm fine. I'm eating, everyone in my house is eating. We're getting the dishes done finally. We're fine. We've even bathed lately. Then why am I not writing anymore? How is it that I am stricken by butterflies anytime a therapist, or doctor, or friend/acquaintance suggests I add something? Where is all my time going? If somebody says time management, I am going to scream. Because somebody is right. And somebody is wrong too. I'm learning to dance the fine line between blind obedience and wisdom on my own. I am starting to know when to follow the Rx to the letter and when to *gasp* toss the stinkin' paper out the window. It's difficult, but I'm getting there. So yeah. I'm fine. Right? I'm fine. Sometimes, it doesn't help to pretend. Not when everyone sees it anyway.

I snuggled my little special girl as she got her fluids and fell asleep. She-who has some autistic features at times-will nudge me with her nose and wiggle her little bum to get closer to me. It's one of the best parts of my day. Another best part is folding up my little beansprout boy and hugging his compact form. It's the only time hugging him feels tangible. Or when little miss Thang can't wait for me to read Anne of Green Gables . She told me I have the best voice for Anne and Diana, and wanted me to stay home from a date. Being a mommy is the one thing I do that has the most lasting impact. I still think about how I was treated way back. My Mum still thinks about it. I want to do better at it. Being excited (or obsessed either one) about this blogging thing has really helped me look at my priorities. Facebook? pretty much gone. Email? quick glance. House work? Okay! I'm neglecting my life. How can neglect in one way be chicken soup in another? I...

I got stuck today. The exhaust pipe was sputtering until the snow melted enough to be below it. I felt like those marooned drivers standing beside my drowned car as part of some smart aleck photographer's spread that captures a flood. I swear it didn't look that deep. And most especially like them, I should have kept driving. But no, I had to close the garage door! All those burly men roaring down the street in their huge 4x4 trucks with plows on the front. Blargh! I tried everything. Everything I knew. Shovel, reverse, forward, spinning the tires really fast until the snow is flying higher than my car. Nada. Finally-after dialing three times and hanging up-I called my husband. The man comes bounding up to my car, and tells me to go wait in safety. I try to tell him we may as well surrender, but no. "You're not stuck until you have to get pulled out." He says, and walks confidently to my car. Thirty seconds later he whips a 180 to stop beside me and o...

Postpartum Psychosis after 7 months of intensive breastfeeding with Chickadee who had-unbeknownst to me-pervasive low tone and an unproductive suck. I talked with 5-10 people about something possibly being wrong with Chickadee, but no one believed me. Who wants to be right about that anyway? Bipolar NOS was my diagnosis upon leaving the psychiatric hospital on April 1, 2008. Yes, that's right. April Fool's Day. The allusion was painful. A close relative-as I've talked about-has bipolar I and has also experienced psychosis. My identity will always be guarded for their sake as well as the others in my family that confide their difficulties in me. Rett Syndrome became a part of our family on July 28th, 2009. Many, many, many tests and doctors preceded that. My daughter Chickadee had many horrifying things happen to her.