Monthly Archives: June 2013

Therapy Day

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Yesterday was therapy day, and I had scheduled for 4pm instead of my usual lunchtime appointment.  I won’t be making THAT mistake again!

Instead of my normal routine – get up, get dressed, jitter for a couple of hours until The Husband gets home from work, go pick up lunch and eat it in the car before going up to my session – I sat and jittered and worked myself up into anxious knots All. Damned. Day.  Then when The Husband got home to pick me up, I kept misunderstanding and mis-communicating as we talked about what I needed before the session. We wound up arriving WAY too early to go up for my session, and WAY too late to go through a drive-thru to get me a tide-me-over til dinner, which resulted in me having a teary meltdown in the car.  I hate doing that.  It makes me feel like a spoiled five-year old.

Therapy itself was good, in the way that getting a root canal is good:  it’s painful and you cry a lot, but then it’s over and it’s a huge relief to have that particular pain eased.  I am *never* going to like having to go to therapy, but I know it’s necessary to maintain my stability and so I’ll keep going.

Things I wish people knew about mental illness: the bipolar edition

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  • Having “mood swings” does not mean a person is bipolar.  There are a lot of reasons, medical and situational, for a person to be “moody.”  Leave the diagnosis to the professionals.
  • I am not bipolar.  I have bipolar disorder.  Big difference.
  • No, it’s nothing like they show on TV or in the movies.
  • No, it won’t go away if I just think happy thoughts.
  • Sucking it up and pushing through are only short-term solutions.
  • Depression isn’t just feeling really, really sad.  It’s sitting in the dark feeling empty and hopeless and worthless too, all at once, and knowing the light switch is RIGHT THERE but being unable to see it, much less reach it.
  • Mania isn’t just feeling happy and hyper.  It’s feeling like you could do ANYTHING, only you lose interest in the middle of whatever it is and scamper off to something else and wind up with 20 different half-finished things going on at once.  It’s feeling like you can’t sit still, like you’re jumping out of your skin, and not being able to manage a normal conversation because your brain keeps skipping all over the place and where the brain goes, the mouth follows.  It’s frustration and anger because you just want to concentrate but you cantslowyourbraindownlongenoughtothinkstraight.
  • No, there is no cure, only maintenance and periods of recovery.
  • No, the medications don’t make it all better.
  • Yes, I have to take them anyway.
  • No, you don’t need to ask if I’m taking them.
  • In fact, it’s okay to ask if I’m okay.  It’s NOT okay to ask if I’m taking my meds unless you’re one of my designated support people (husband, therapist, doctor).
  • It’s okay if you can’t be there for me when I’m recovering from an episode.  Just don’t disappear without a word.  A simple “love you, praying for you” is enough.

A Tisket, A Tasket…

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I dropped my little basket.

I fell down the rabbit hole.

I went nuckin futs.

I had a breakdown.

Or we can go with this:  it is very very easy to deny how depressed and anxious you really are… until one day you can’t anymore.

I haven’t posted in 5 months and 27 days, give or take a day or two… It took me that long to fall down to the bottom of the pit, ask for help, and start climbing up again. Right now I’m sitting on the edge of that pit and trying to get back up on my feet.  I won’t say I feel okay – because that would be a lie, and I am done lying about how I feel – but I *am* recovering.

I don’t know if I’ll ever write about that nearly 6 months.  But maybe it’s time to start writing about some of the stuff I’ve always danced right up to the edge of and then veered away from.

No more secrets.  No more lies.  Just me.