Got up at a normal time and ran errands today. Yay! Managed to get a lot done, and get out in the sunshine. Well, as much sunshine as you can get from the inside of a car. Between the summer heat and the humidity, just walking from the parking lot into the store makes me break out in a sweat. So actually going outside for any length of time is just out.
Good old Florida summer.
So I'm feeling satisfied today. Not depressed, but not manic either. Just right. It's funny that when I'm depressed, I have a hard time remembering what it was like to feel good, and when I feel good, it's hard to remember how I felt when I was depressed. Or even that I was depressed. About a month ago I was completely non-functional. Then, even though I felt better, I couldn't get much accomplished because my sleep was so erratic.
Lately, sleep has been my number one issue. Now that I'm sleeping nights again, I hope I can stay this way, instead of gradually moving around the clock again.
We'll see.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Friday, May 30, 2014
I may be getting back to sleeping nights again.
Yesterday, I went to bed at 1:00 pm but didn't actually fall asleep until 3:00. Then I slept until 4:00 am. So, this is approaching normality. But I've been cycling like this for at least a month now. I guess I need to try and keep better track of my sleep and see where it all goes wrong.
But at least now that I'm going to be awake today, I can plan to go to the gym and also get some sunlight.
And maybe cut my fingernails, because they are making it difficult to type. I don't know why this is a daytime activity, but it is.
Also, grocery shopping. It's fun to go at night to somewhere that's open 24/7, but you have to dodge around the stockpersons and the stacks of cartons, so it becomes a bit awkward.
In other news, my sister made pie. She continues to surprise me with her kitchen skills. I know that she learned to cook and bake, just like I did, under the gentle guidance of my mother's wooden spoon. But she usually doesn't make more than toast. That's even a stretch. Usually her cooking stops at heating frozen dinners.
The other night, I said, I'm going to make scrambled eggs, do you want some? And she said, I'll even scramble them for you. Which completely shocked me. And then tonight there was pie. She had bought the filling and the pie crust (I had to talk her down from a graham cracker crust for apple pie) and she had managed to combine the two, and it was a perfectly acceptable pie.
Later...well, I didn't get much done today, but I am getting back on schedule, and that's one good thing.
But at least now that I'm going to be awake today, I can plan to go to the gym and also get some sunlight.
And maybe cut my fingernails, because they are making it difficult to type. I don't know why this is a daytime activity, but it is.
Also, grocery shopping. It's fun to go at night to somewhere that's open 24/7, but you have to dodge around the stockpersons and the stacks of cartons, so it becomes a bit awkward.
In other news, my sister made pie. She continues to surprise me with her kitchen skills. I know that she learned to cook and bake, just like I did, under the gentle guidance of my mother's wooden spoon. But she usually doesn't make more than toast. That's even a stretch. Usually her cooking stops at heating frozen dinners.
The other night, I said, I'm going to make scrambled eggs, do you want some? And she said, I'll even scramble them for you. Which completely shocked me. And then tonight there was pie. She had bought the filling and the pie crust (I had to talk her down from a graham cracker crust for apple pie) and she had managed to combine the two, and it was a perfectly acceptable pie.
Later...well, I didn't get much done today, but I am getting back on schedule, and that's one good thing.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Brain Implants?
Hunh. And then there's this bit of interesting news from NPR: Military Plans to Test Brain Implants to Fight Mental Disorders. According to the article, some people with Parkinson's and epilepsy have been helped by simple brain implants which are similar to pacemakers. The DARPA-funded research will try to adapt the technology more specifically to certain "brain circuits" that contribute to problems such as depression, anxiety, and PTSD, a big issue with military veterans.
I think I'll let them work the kinks out for a bit before I go putting circuitry in my brain. Of course, we may all be wired internally before long anyway, if only for Wi-fi access.
I think I'll let them work the kinks out for a bit before I go putting circuitry in my brain. Of course, we may all be wired internally before long anyway, if only for Wi-fi access.
The irregular sleep thing continues.
I have trouble keeping track of what day it is. Fortunately, my cell phone does a good part of my thinking and keeping track stuff, so I just keep checking the calendar to make sure. I'm trying hard to reverse this sleep rut. Now sleeping in long naps, one in the afternoon, one at night. The idea is to make the afternoon one shorter and the night one longer. This has worked in the past.
I'm not feeling depressed, just really tired and still mainly unmotivated. I don't have a lot to say today, but I want to make fairly regular posts, so this is sort of a place marker until I can think of something more interesting to talk about.
I am aware of several building blocks of maintaining stability with bipolar disorder. Some of which I do more successfully than others.
I'm not feeling depressed, just really tired and still mainly unmotivated. I don't have a lot to say today, but I want to make fairly regular posts, so this is sort of a place marker until I can think of something more interesting to talk about.
I am aware of several building blocks of maintaining stability with bipolar disorder. Some of which I do more successfully than others.
- Medication -- the prescription kind yes, the self-medication kind, no. I also take Omega 3 supplements because there is some indication that they are helpful to people with depression.
- Exercise -- working on it!
- Get regular sleep -- well, we see how that is going.
- Eat healthy -- I'd rather not talk about that.
- Get out into the light -- I think this is more important to folks living in northern climes, but I have to say that living in Florida in the summer, I get as little sun as possible. I had a sleep doctor who suggested that one way to help regulate my sleep would be to spend at least 30 minutes outside in the morning each day.
I'll have to think about that.
So anyway, I'm not doing very much to help myself. Although, as I've mentioned before, writing can be helpful. I've kept a journal for years, but I like doing this blog because it makes me feel more accountable for everything that I say.
We'll see how that goes.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Sleeeep. And, jobs for insomniacs.
I'm feeling really frustrated because my sleep cycle has gotten off-kilter. Again. This time I know why -- because I had to get up early (for me) on Friday. Which meant I took a little nap on Friday afternoon. Which turned into a 6 hour nap. Which meant I stayed up all night Friday night. And rinse, repeat. So here I am waking up at 10:30 pm Sunday evening. And how's the weekend been for you?
It has been pleasant listening to the birds sing outside the windows in the morning. After a while, it gets so hot in Florida mornings they just say the heck with it and go back to sleep. In Vermont spring, when you had just started to keep your windows open at night to enjoy the fresh air after months of claustrophobia, the bird chorus would start up at about 4 am. And steadily increase in volume as the late-risers joined in. You can throw a boot at cats (at least, that's what I've seen in cartoons), but nobody has enough shoes to throw at a whole treefull of birds desperately trying to get laid.
Once during a dark Vermont winter when I was sleeping days and staying awake nights, I was inspired to "make lemonade" by getting a job delivering newspapers. "I'm awake," I told myself. "Might as well try to make some money."
Well, let me tell you about delivering papers: the hours are lousy but the pay sucks. It was for a mere pittance that I got out of the house at 3:30 am (the papers had to be picked up by 4:00) and drove down to the Grand Union grocery to get my bundles of papers, driving around the route designated by a daily paper printout (so you know if Mr. Smith is on vacation and doesn't want his paper, etc.) Papers had to be delivered by 6:00 am on weekdays, and 7:00 am on Sundays, so I could lollygag around on Sunday mornings if I wanted to.
It sounds simple, just cruising around tossing papers out of the car onto folks' driveways, hardly pausing to toss it, not caring if it landed under the car or in the bushes. But this wasn't a normal suburban route. South Burlington is sort of an urban/suburban blend. And people expect their papers to be on their porch, thankyouverymuch, especially on a snowy winter morning. If you toss it on a driveway there's a chance it will be covered by a snowplow and irretrievable until Spring when the snow melts.
So I would have to stop the car, get a chunk of papers, and trudge around in the snow putting the news on porches, in people's mailboxes, hanging them on doorknobs, as requested by my handy little printout. I got the hang of it pretty quickly, how many stops I needed to make, how many papers I could deliver at one time before I had to get back in the car and drive a little further. As I mentioned, this was in the dead of the Vermont winter, so it would frequently be snowing, and snowing hard. There were bright spots, though. For one thing, since it was December, it was Christmas bonus season, so I was frequently the recipient of gifts bestowed as thanks for the last person's hard work. Also, there were twinkling lights on many houses, so I wasn't always working in total darkness.
In fact, there was one light display, kept burning all night, that was so impressive I'm surprised that the nearby airport didn't complain. Let alone the power company. It blazed so brightly that I had to take off my coat and apply sunscreen as I trudged across the lawn, past the twinkling bushes and the illuminated grazing deer and the jolly glowing Santa. Then I would stumble into darkness again having been temporarily blinded by the amount of lumens provided.
On Sundays, my teenage daughter would sometimes come with me and help. This was helpful, because of course Sunday papers are the heaviest of the week, and kind of fun, because by the time we finished the sun would actually have deigned to glow on the horizon, so we got to meet the dawn together. As long as I paid her.
Occasionally I would top the day off by eating breakfast at Denny's, that American haven for insomniacs and early-risers alike. There's something especially friendly about an early morning breakfast at a diner, even if you are having a hamburger for dinner before going off to bed.
It ended one snowy night on an icy sidewalk. I was already having problems with my shoulder from carrying and tossing the papers (after a while, I could generally hit the porch from the sidewalk without having to walk all the way). I slipped on a patch of ice which had been deceptively covered by fresh snow, and there went my shoulder. I called the newspaper and left a message and drove myself to the hospital. They said it was only a subluxation not a dislocation. They didn't say that I had to quit, but I couldn't really take days off either. And somehow my boss hadn't gotten the message and was royally pissed off at the calls they were getting about undelivered papers. And my arm hurt, so screw you, newspaper.
So that was the end of my newsboy career. It lasted about two months, which was about how long I managed to work most jobs. So the late nights and early mornings didn't really pay off for me. But it was a memorable experience, trudging through the snow on early December mornings, walking boldly onto strangers' porches while they were sleeping soundly within, traipsing through neighborhoods, kind of like Santa Claus myself, delivering parcels that would be opened and greeted with cries of, "Damn politicians," and "That Garfield, he's so funny," or "They lost again?"
And that's my story.
It has been pleasant listening to the birds sing outside the windows in the morning. After a while, it gets so hot in Florida mornings they just say the heck with it and go back to sleep. In Vermont spring, when you had just started to keep your windows open at night to enjoy the fresh air after months of claustrophobia, the bird chorus would start up at about 4 am. And steadily increase in volume as the late-risers joined in. You can throw a boot at cats (at least, that's what I've seen in cartoons), but nobody has enough shoes to throw at a whole treefull of birds desperately trying to get laid.
Once during a dark Vermont winter when I was sleeping days and staying awake nights, I was inspired to "make lemonade" by getting a job delivering newspapers. "I'm awake," I told myself. "Might as well try to make some money."
Well, let me tell you about delivering papers: the hours are lousy but the pay sucks. It was for a mere pittance that I got out of the house at 3:30 am (the papers had to be picked up by 4:00) and drove down to the Grand Union grocery to get my bundles of papers, driving around the route designated by a daily paper printout (so you know if Mr. Smith is on vacation and doesn't want his paper, etc.) Papers had to be delivered by 6:00 am on weekdays, and 7:00 am on Sundays, so I could lollygag around on Sunday mornings if I wanted to.
It sounds simple, just cruising around tossing papers out of the car onto folks' driveways, hardly pausing to toss it, not caring if it landed under the car or in the bushes. But this wasn't a normal suburban route. South Burlington is sort of an urban/suburban blend. And people expect their papers to be on their porch, thankyouverymuch, especially on a snowy winter morning. If you toss it on a driveway there's a chance it will be covered by a snowplow and irretrievable until Spring when the snow melts.
So I would have to stop the car, get a chunk of papers, and trudge around in the snow putting the news on porches, in people's mailboxes, hanging them on doorknobs, as requested by my handy little printout. I got the hang of it pretty quickly, how many stops I needed to make, how many papers I could deliver at one time before I had to get back in the car and drive a little further. As I mentioned, this was in the dead of the Vermont winter, so it would frequently be snowing, and snowing hard. There were bright spots, though. For one thing, since it was December, it was Christmas bonus season, so I was frequently the recipient of gifts bestowed as thanks for the last person's hard work. Also, there were twinkling lights on many houses, so I wasn't always working in total darkness.
In fact, there was one light display, kept burning all night, that was so impressive I'm surprised that the nearby airport didn't complain. Let alone the power company. It blazed so brightly that I had to take off my coat and apply sunscreen as I trudged across the lawn, past the twinkling bushes and the illuminated grazing deer and the jolly glowing Santa. Then I would stumble into darkness again having been temporarily blinded by the amount of lumens provided.
On Sundays, my teenage daughter would sometimes come with me and help. This was helpful, because of course Sunday papers are the heaviest of the week, and kind of fun, because by the time we finished the sun would actually have deigned to glow on the horizon, so we got to meet the dawn together. As long as I paid her.
Occasionally I would top the day off by eating breakfast at Denny's, that American haven for insomniacs and early-risers alike. There's something especially friendly about an early morning breakfast at a diner, even if you are having a hamburger for dinner before going off to bed.
It ended one snowy night on an icy sidewalk. I was already having problems with my shoulder from carrying and tossing the papers (after a while, I could generally hit the porch from the sidewalk without having to walk all the way). I slipped on a patch of ice which had been deceptively covered by fresh snow, and there went my shoulder. I called the newspaper and left a message and drove myself to the hospital. They said it was only a subluxation not a dislocation. They didn't say that I had to quit, but I couldn't really take days off either. And somehow my boss hadn't gotten the message and was royally pissed off at the calls they were getting about undelivered papers. And my arm hurt, so screw you, newspaper.
So that was the end of my newsboy career. It lasted about two months, which was about how long I managed to work most jobs. So the late nights and early mornings didn't really pay off for me. But it was a memorable experience, trudging through the snow on early December mornings, walking boldly onto strangers' porches while they were sleeping soundly within, traipsing through neighborhoods, kind of like Santa Claus myself, delivering parcels that would be opened and greeted with cries of, "Damn politicians," and "That Garfield, he's so funny," or "They lost again?"
And that's my story.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Ugh.
Had to take my sister to the dentist this morning, and it messed up my sleep schedule, and my shower schedule, because of course we both woke up late. But, I did my good deed for the day, and I'm glad I drove her because whatever drugs they gave her made her quite entertaining on the trip back!
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Therapy Day (it's like Laundry Day, only with less water)
Therapy today. I did pretty good on the goals last week. This week's goals:
1. Keep a sleep log.
2. Try to get up by noon.
3. Shower and brush teeth every day.
4. Go to gym at least twice this week.
If you're interested in the sleep log, here's the one (pdf) I use. Unfortunately, although MoodTracker.com has an entry for how many hours you sleep, they don't have a place for when you slept. So this fills in.
So I'm feeling pretty good. Therapy went well. Besides goal setting for the week, we also talked about long-term goals to maybe think about. Like volunteering again. And looking into working at home doing transcription. And maybe going to the Drop-In Center for folks with mental health issues.
We also discussed the therapy process itself. I think this is important to do every once in a while. Check in with the therapist, tell her how you think therapy is going. If there's something that she said or did that bothered you, take time to ask her about it.
Too much caffeine today. A little shaky.
1. Keep a sleep log.
2. Try to get up by noon.
3. Shower and brush teeth every day.
4. Go to gym at least twice this week.
If you're interested in the sleep log, here's the one (pdf) I use. Unfortunately, although MoodTracker.com has an entry for how many hours you sleep, they don't have a place for when you slept. So this fills in.
So I'm feeling pretty good. Therapy went well. Besides goal setting for the week, we also talked about long-term goals to maybe think about. Like volunteering again. And looking into working at home doing transcription. And maybe going to the Drop-In Center for folks with mental health issues.
We also discussed the therapy process itself. I think this is important to do every once in a while. Check in with the therapist, tell her how you think therapy is going. If there's something that she said or did that bothered you, take time to ask her about it.
Too much caffeine today. A little shaky.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Getting real about depression
Funny thing. When I am feeling better, I have a hard time remembering how I felt when I was depressed. I don't think I'm depressed today. I'm sleep deprived, because I'm really, really trying to turn my sleep around.
Keeping a regular sleep schedule is one of the non-medicinal ways to manage depression and bipolar. And I suck at it. The last time I had a regular sleep schedule was in February, when I was babysitting my granddaughter. My daughter woke me up at 7 am every morning, and I went to bed at 9 pm each night (I seem to need a lot of sleep).Since then, my sleep schedule has been all over the map. I go to bed at 6 am, wake up at 6 pm, then a week later I am going to bed at 8 pm, waking up at 7 am. I've had to cancel therapy appointments because I knew there was no way in hell that I would wake up in time for the appointment. Anyway, today I managed to get out of bed at noon, despite going to bed at 4 am and lying there awake until 6 am.
I'm going to keep a sleep log, so at least I can see where my sleep is going. I use this one (pdf). Speaking of tracking, and as a follow-up to my post about mood-tracking apps (and how they don't have one for Windows phone), I've signed up for MoodTracker.com. It's got some nice features, like sending text alerts to your mobile reminding you to take your meds, or to complete a daily mood record. Aaaand looking at the site, I just realized that I forgot my password.
Anyway, back to amnesia. And how I feel today. I just started this blog, and this morning I was having a lot of doubts about doing it. Feeling like my writing sucks, I'm too preachy, I don't have anything new to say. I also feel that if I'm going to write this, I want folks to read it, and so far I've only told two people that I'm doing it. So it's a well-kept secret.
I'll probably tell my therapist about the blog tomorrow, but she is a technophobe who doesn't use the computer. Seriously. They still have a typewriter in the office. I'll take pictures if you don't believe me.
But other than that, I'm feeling okay. I was just looking at some articles on PsychCentral, specifically this one about what to say to someone who's depressed. Some of the commenters are quite angry and frustrated. I remember those feelings, but I rarely experience them any more. I remember how angry I was in the beginning of the worst of my depression/bipolar, back in my twenties. I broke things. I threw furniture. At people. I'm surprised no one called the police. My family's only done that once, and that was when I walked out of the house and down the road. While angry. I went to Al-Anon meetings, and when they spoke about gratitude lists I wanted to punch someone. My life sucked so badly that I couldn't think of a single thing to be grateful for.
So maybe I've mellowed with time. Grown into the illness. Learned to accept it. Or maybe that's all bullshit and I'm just avoiding situations that make me stressed and angry. Because the last intimate relationship I had, three years ago, certainly had a lot of angry fights. And my sister and I have had our ups and downs since she moved back down here. Interestingly, we don't fight any more. We manage to support each other and tolerate each other's foibles. Mostly.
The big difference between my relationship with Sam and my relationship with my sister is that she accepts my illness. Sam always pretended it didn't exist. That's about the worst thing you can say to someone who's depressed. "You're not sick at all. You'll get over it." Well, it's been 27 years. I'm waiting.
Keeping a regular sleep schedule is one of the non-medicinal ways to manage depression and bipolar. And I suck at it. The last time I had a regular sleep schedule was in February, when I was babysitting my granddaughter. My daughter woke me up at 7 am every morning, and I went to bed at 9 pm each night (I seem to need a lot of sleep).Since then, my sleep schedule has been all over the map. I go to bed at 6 am, wake up at 6 pm, then a week later I am going to bed at 8 pm, waking up at 7 am. I've had to cancel therapy appointments because I knew there was no way in hell that I would wake up in time for the appointment. Anyway, today I managed to get out of bed at noon, despite going to bed at 4 am and lying there awake until 6 am.
I'm going to keep a sleep log, so at least I can see where my sleep is going. I use this one (pdf). Speaking of tracking, and as a follow-up to my post about mood-tracking apps (and how they don't have one for Windows phone), I've signed up for MoodTracker.com. It's got some nice features, like sending text alerts to your mobile reminding you to take your meds, or to complete a daily mood record. Aaaand looking at the site, I just realized that I forgot my password.
Anyway, back to amnesia. And how I feel today. I just started this blog, and this morning I was having a lot of doubts about doing it. Feeling like my writing sucks, I'm too preachy, I don't have anything new to say. I also feel that if I'm going to write this, I want folks to read it, and so far I've only told two people that I'm doing it. So it's a well-kept secret.
I'll probably tell my therapist about the blog tomorrow, but she is a technophobe who doesn't use the computer. Seriously. They still have a typewriter in the office. I'll take pictures if you don't believe me.
But other than that, I'm feeling okay. I was just looking at some articles on PsychCentral, specifically this one about what to say to someone who's depressed. Some of the commenters are quite angry and frustrated. I remember those feelings, but I rarely experience them any more. I remember how angry I was in the beginning of the worst of my depression/bipolar, back in my twenties. I broke things. I threw furniture. At people. I'm surprised no one called the police. My family's only done that once, and that was when I walked out of the house and down the road. While angry. I went to Al-Anon meetings, and when they spoke about gratitude lists I wanted to punch someone. My life sucked so badly that I couldn't think of a single thing to be grateful for.
So maybe I've mellowed with time. Grown into the illness. Learned to accept it. Or maybe that's all bullshit and I'm just avoiding situations that make me stressed and angry. Because the last intimate relationship I had, three years ago, certainly had a lot of angry fights. And my sister and I have had our ups and downs since she moved back down here. Interestingly, we don't fight any more. We manage to support each other and tolerate each other's foibles. Mostly.
The big difference between my relationship with Sam and my relationship with my sister is that she accepts my illness. Sam always pretended it didn't exist. That's about the worst thing you can say to someone who's depressed. "You're not sick at all. You'll get over it." Well, it's been 27 years. I'm waiting.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Musings on therapy, and list
Spending years in therapy can be discouraging. Why is it taking so
long to get better? Am I with the right therapist? Do I really need to go every
week? Am I just not paying attention? Am I too dependent on my therapist?
What is wrong with me?
There may be more posts about therapy and therapists. For example,
what is the goal of therapy? Is it to feel better temporarily, or is it to give
you tools to cope when you're not in therapy? Is it to stay in therapy for the
rest of your life, or to eventually wean you off therapy, even if only
temporarily? I think I've wanted the latter, but I've often gotten the former.
How do you get what you want from therapy?
I'm not sure I have a healthy relationship with my current
therapist. We do set goals. But sometimes she is the only person I see in a
week. Sometimes, weekly my therapy appointment is the only time I leave the
house. Sometimes, she is the only person I confide in. So I've become pretty dependent on her. Possibly at the exclusion of other social connections?
I have learned some tools from therapy. A lot of times I ignore
them. I'm feeling better this week, so I want to remind myself of one of them
that's easier to do when I am feeling better:
Make a list of pleasurable activities.
1. Writing
2. Watching TV
3. Going for a walk, especially on the beach or a nature trail
4. Knitting
5. Playing the piano
6. Reading
7. Kayaking
8. Dining out with friends and family
9. Dancing
Wow, it's really hard to dredge some of these things up, because I
haven't done them in so long. But the idea is to use this list when you are not
feeling so great, and pick something that you can do which can help you change
your mood.
If you're having trouble thinking up activities on your own, maybe this list (pdf) can help you get going.
If you're having trouble thinking up activities on your own, maybe this list (pdf) can help you get going.
Monday, May 19, 2014
All I can speak is my truth.
Hopefully it will help at least me. It would be nice if it helped someone else. Or entertained someone.
I wrote a really long post about the past year, in painstaking detail. Then I decided that you would be better off not reading it.
Here's the short version: it was the best of years, it was the worst of years. There were wonderful, amazing moments, and months of feeling mired in mud. Oh, right, that would about describe bipolar. But it's not all highs and lows. There is middle ground, where I am pretty functional. I managed to function quite a lot when I was spending time with my daughter and granddaughter, who was born last year. I got up in the morning. I showered. I socialized.
But when I came back to Florida, I really, really wanted to be up there in Maryland.
Right now it's impossible for me to move to Maryland. And I've spent the last year wrestling with that. It's contributed a lot to my depression and my downhill slide where I neglect things like showering, exercising, socializing. I'd even started missing appointments again. Even for therapy and psychiatry.
How can something really, really great happen which makes one so depressed?
I knew the damn answer, I just refused to admit it. I've spent years in therapy, and some of it was actually helpful. But the answer really lay in the years I've spent in 12 Step programs. Acceptance. The stupid Serenity prayer. It kept whispering in the back of my mind. I kept ignoring it.
Sometimes I just want to be someone I'm not. I wanted to be in Maryland, but I just didn't have the resources or the stability to move there.
Acceptance doesn't mean giving up. It doesn't mean wallowing in the place that I'm in. It means recognizing where I am. The only way to get someplace else is to know where I am starting from. And also accepting the good things about the place I am in.
Of course, I dropped out of 12 Step programs a couple of years ago. Since I was Group Rep at the time, it's just another thing to feel guilty about.
Oh, good, I've come around to feeling guilty again. That's a familiar, friendly place.
I'm not good at long term goals. If I want to move to Maryland, it's going to take a lot of steps in-between to make it work. I'm not sure I'm capable of those steps. My goals right now are all about trying to return to a normalcy that I had before last year.
I didn't spend all of last year in my nightgown. I went on a cruise, for Pete's sake, and I only spent two days of it moping in my cabin. I participated in NaNoWriMo, and achieved my goal. I visited my daughter and granddaughter three times.
So, highs and lows, and places in between.
I'm not sure if I've entertained you, but I have spoken my truth.
I wrote a really long post about the past year, in painstaking detail. Then I decided that you would be better off not reading it.
Here's the short version: it was the best of years, it was the worst of years. There were wonderful, amazing moments, and months of feeling mired in mud. Oh, right, that would about describe bipolar. But it's not all highs and lows. There is middle ground, where I am pretty functional. I managed to function quite a lot when I was spending time with my daughter and granddaughter, who was born last year. I got up in the morning. I showered. I socialized.
But when I came back to Florida, I really, really wanted to be up there in Maryland.
Right now it's impossible for me to move to Maryland. And I've spent the last year wrestling with that. It's contributed a lot to my depression and my downhill slide where I neglect things like showering, exercising, socializing. I'd even started missing appointments again. Even for therapy and psychiatry.
How can something really, really great happen which makes one so depressed?
I knew the damn answer, I just refused to admit it. I've spent years in therapy, and some of it was actually helpful. But the answer really lay in the years I've spent in 12 Step programs. Acceptance. The stupid Serenity prayer. It kept whispering in the back of my mind. I kept ignoring it.
Sometimes I just want to be someone I'm not. I wanted to be in Maryland, but I just didn't have the resources or the stability to move there.
Acceptance doesn't mean giving up. It doesn't mean wallowing in the place that I'm in. It means recognizing where I am. The only way to get someplace else is to know where I am starting from. And also accepting the good things about the place I am in.
Of course, I dropped out of 12 Step programs a couple of years ago. Since I was Group Rep at the time, it's just another thing to feel guilty about.
Oh, good, I've come around to feeling guilty again. That's a familiar, friendly place.
I'm not good at long term goals. If I want to move to Maryland, it's going to take a lot of steps in-between to make it work. I'm not sure I'm capable of those steps. My goals right now are all about trying to return to a normalcy that I had before last year.
I didn't spend all of last year in my nightgown. I went on a cruise, for Pete's sake, and I only spent two days of it moping in my cabin. I participated in NaNoWriMo, and achieved my goal. I visited my daughter and granddaughter three times.
So, highs and lows, and places in between.
I'm not sure if I've entertained you, but I have spoken my truth.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
There's an app for that
This took me by surprise. I mean, ok, there's an app for
everything, but I just didn't expect us crazies to be getting our own. Guys, we
are loved.
So here are The Best Bipolar Disorder iPhone and Android Apps of theYear. Naturally, I have a Windows Phone.There are NO apps for Windows Phone.
For some reason, this list doesn't mention Optimism, which
the bloggers at Psychcentral highly recommended. It used to be $$, but now it's
free.
Of course, it's not available for Windows Phone.
I'll just go back to playing Adventure Town now. At least
it's available on Windows Phone.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
I have to be honest. Even though I don't really want to be.
Today hasn't been all that great so far.
After two days of waking up surprisingly early, I absolutely couldn't fall asleep last night. I was starting to wonder if I was actually flipping into mania, but after I finally fell asleep, I slept for 13 hours. So, no mania, but a wasted day. No, I didn't make it to Hands Across the Sand. I'm still trying to decide if it's worth it to take a shower. I did set daily showers as one of my goals this week. So far I've been doing well. If you're grossed out by the shower thing, well, sometimes depression really gets under my skin and says, why bother. If I stay at home as much as I have been doing lately, there's really nothing to shower for. And then it just becomes a habit. One that I am trying to get out of. So that's my goal today. After I finish writing this, I will take a shower. Then I will have accomplished two things on my goal list. Yay.
I feel okay, just a little disappointed in myself. Sometimes that disappointment can fold in on itself and mulitiply and turn into "why bother about anything?" So it's something that I have to watch out for. I'm writing this to come clean. I really want to hide it, but hiding's not healthy.
My sister woke me up, finally. She asked if I wanted to watch a movie with Mom. So we watched "The Book Thief." Usually I try to avoid movies with too much emotion, even though this intrigued me when I first saw trailers for it. My emotional state can be pretty fragile, and easily toppled by "deep" stories. I did end up crying -- if you've seen the movie, you'll know why. Probably if I think about it too much I'll end up sobbing. So I'll just summarily dismiss it by saying: War sucks. Death sucks. But people and books can be wonderful.
After two days of waking up surprisingly early, I absolutely couldn't fall asleep last night. I was starting to wonder if I was actually flipping into mania, but after I finally fell asleep, I slept for 13 hours. So, no mania, but a wasted day. No, I didn't make it to Hands Across the Sand. I'm still trying to decide if it's worth it to take a shower. I did set daily showers as one of my goals this week. So far I've been doing well. If you're grossed out by the shower thing, well, sometimes depression really gets under my skin and says, why bother. If I stay at home as much as I have been doing lately, there's really nothing to shower for. And then it just becomes a habit. One that I am trying to get out of. So that's my goal today. After I finish writing this, I will take a shower. Then I will have accomplished two things on my goal list. Yay.
I feel okay, just a little disappointed in myself. Sometimes that disappointment can fold in on itself and mulitiply and turn into "why bother about anything?" So it's something that I have to watch out for. I'm writing this to come clean. I really want to hide it, but hiding's not healthy.
My sister woke me up, finally. She asked if I wanted to watch a movie with Mom. So we watched "The Book Thief." Usually I try to avoid movies with too much emotion, even though this intrigued me when I first saw trailers for it. My emotional state can be pretty fragile, and easily toppled by "deep" stories. I did end up crying -- if you've seen the movie, you'll know why. Probably if I think about it too much I'll end up sobbing. So I'll just summarily dismiss it by saying: War sucks. Death sucks. But people and books can be wonderful.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Thoughts for the day:
Why did I commit to going to an event that starts at 11:00 am when I haven't been getting up before noon lately?
How did I manage to get up at 10:30 this morning?
Ways to win a debate: after it becomes obvious that you're wrong, say that you were the one that proposed the winning argument in the first place. This is especially effective if you and your debatee both have memory issues.
Congratulations, you're bipolar!
 |
| bipolar bear |
So I've been diagnosed with: major depressive disorder, adjustment disorder, borderline personality disorder, manic-depressive disorder, and bipolar disorder II. Not all at the same time, or from the same doctor (note: if you have more than one diagnosis, be cautious handing a list over to, say, a judge. Just sayin'.)
I go with bipolar II. There are a couple of things that I understand about this diagnosis. 1) It's not bipolar I -- which is "classic" manic-depression, and 2) It's not depression. Simple, see?
Ok, really, it means to me that I rarely have manic episodes -- so rarely, in fact, that I have generally been classified as depressed (or atypically depressed) by most pdocs (pdoc is just an abbreviation for psychiatrist). The manic episodes are generally milder than bipolar I, don't include delusions, and don't require hospitalization. In fact, I can only recall one episode of real "mania" in my life, and that was after starting on Prozac the first time. Another factor in bipolar II is that the depressive episodes are far more frequent than the manic episodes. According to a study cited in The Bipolar Disorder Survival Guide, people with bipolar II have an average of 40 weeks of depression to 1 week of mania.
That explained a lot to me when I read it. It's a good book.
So I have a shitload of days when I am living in depression. Then I have days when I feel okay, just not that motivated. There are also days when I actually feel functional. The manic episodes are pretty rare.
I want to stress that while I am living with an illness, I am struggling not to be defined or confined by that illness. Sometimes I lose the struggle, but I keep trying. I hope I can share with you the stuff I have learned that works, that doesn't work, as well as my personal struggle.
More on defining bipolar disorder: NIMH publication "Bipolar Disorder"
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Goals for the week:
1. Get out of bed. Ideally, before noon.
2. Take a shower and brush my teeth every day. I have really been sliding back on this. It's something that some depressed people find difficult, believe it or not.
2. Take a shower and brush my teeth every day. I have really been sliding back on this. It's something that some depressed people find difficult, believe it or not.
3. Go to gym at least once. This is the goal my therapist and I set for me.
4. Write this blog. I just started writing, but it is improving my mood already. I would recommend writing a journal to anyone who is dealing with depression. If you're in a manic mood, write a novel. In one sitting.
What are your goals for the week? If you are really depressed, pick one. Write it down. Write it here, if you'd like.
Depression Olympics Event #1: Get Out Of Bed.
I got out of bed today. For most people, this is a simple task that starts their day. If you're like me, it's a mental wrestling exercise that I often lose. Sometimes I barely achieve consciousness. Some spark somewhere says something like, oh, look, daylight, and then I fall back into unconsciousness.
Sometimes I get conscious enough to where I can start to argue with myself: you did this yesterday and look what happened, you're not going to get stuff done, you're going to mess up your sleep schedule again...and then I look lovingly at the wrinkled sheet snuggling my face and give up.
Bribery comes next. I try to think of something, some kind of treat I can offer myself. Something worth getting out of bed for. Lately, that hasn't been much, since mostly I've been staying at home playing Facebook games. So I try to entice myself with that. Also, cookies.
I really don't know why I got up today. Partly because I was thinking of doing this blog, and it sounded like fun. Partly because I was tired of arguing with myself. Fortunately, once I sit up and have at least one foot on the ground, I am officially awake.
Congratulations, here's your medal.
Sometimes I get conscious enough to where I can start to argue with myself: you did this yesterday and look what happened, you're not going to get stuff done, you're going to mess up your sleep schedule again...and then I look lovingly at the wrinkled sheet snuggling my face and give up.
Bribery comes next. I try to think of something, some kind of treat I can offer myself. Something worth getting out of bed for. Lately, that hasn't been much, since mostly I've been staying at home playing Facebook games. So I try to entice myself with that. Also, cookies.
I really don't know why I got up today. Partly because I was thinking of doing this blog, and it sounded like fun. Partly because I was tired of arguing with myself. Fortunately, once I sit up and have at least one foot on the ground, I am officially awake.
Congratulations, here's your medal.
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