New Blog

Ok a private blog is in the works. Contact me at tryingtosurvive101@gmail.com if you are interested in an invite. (spammers beware, this e-mail exists for this purpose only, don't bother)

If I don't already know you as an online friend or blogging buddy, please tell me a bit about yourself and why you are interested in reading my blog.

If I know you personally, as in you live near me, don't be offended if your request is not accepted. My blog is very personal, and I will not have my words and feelings used against me to hurt my family or myself. I know that sounds paranoid, but if you live here you also know what a nosey ass community this is and it's hard to know who to trust. Yes I realize some asshole could make up a fake identity, but I am also smart enough to track your IP address....just so you know.

I have been burned once and my family hurt, I will not take the chance of that happening again. I need to know my blog is a safe place for me to fall, to write and vent and express myself, and my community of 'web friends', who faithfully follow this blog have been there for me more than most of you who know me in real life. I don't fault anyone for that, I am not the same person I used to be, I understand that. I am sick. I will get well. But I may never be the person you knew. Maybe you can accept that, maybe not. But it is what it is.

I will still blog here occasionally as well.

Unsteady and Unsure

Thank you all so much for all the support and response upon the return of my blog. I am still unsure what to do. How do you write about life when you can only write about a fraction of it. I think the best solution will be to create a private blog. I suppose I could post an e-mail address for ya'll to contact me so I can send you an invite and only invite the people that I trust. But truth be told, there are few local friends and readers (and there were only a small few) that I don't know if I can trust. Someone who found it and figured out who I was (Or they already knew about it) told my family. This whole fiasco has made me a paranoid freak about my writing...and my writing was my breath. As dramatic as this sounds a tiny part of me has died over this. I hate hurting people more than anything, and then to be choked of my one saving grace has doubled the agony.

My therapist says I should keep this blog, write whatever the hell I want in it and if people don't like it they just shouldn't read it. (Ok her wording was a little more crass and blunt, but she was adamant that I keep writing here) Which of course made me feel a bit justified in expressing myself in a mostly anonymous manner, but the family feels it's not fair for me to write about them. I did try to explain that none of my regular readers even KNOW this family so what does it matter?

And I want to address one issue that has bothered me since this whole thing started. During this drama my husband was informed that I wrote things about him in my blog. It was implied to him that I was writing things about him that were unfair or unkind. Can I just say for the record my husband has been invited, welcomed, and even begged to read this thing. I left the address in the address bar at all times, hoping just once he might take the time to read my blog and perhaps get to know me in ways he doesn't currently know me. That just one time he might show a glimmer of interest.... He had no interest. He couldn't be bothered. He didn't care. And truthfully that hurt a little bit....no, a lot. He never has shown any interest in my writing. And he knew this was a personal blog. I explained in detail what this blog was, what I was writing, and why I was writing it. In the year that I spilled my guts on here, he never once even glanced at it. But suddenly I was the enemy for a few moments when he was informed that I had written about him. I was very quick to remind him that it has ALWAYS BEEN HERE FOR HIM TO READ....he just never gave a shit. Only when someone made him feeel like he should be upset about it.

So that is my rant. And I am disobeying the rules by writing this, but I do feel like I should be allowed to defend myself regarding that matter. Hubby seems fine with it now, or at least resigned to it, I told him if he was worried about what I wrote about him he should sit down and READ this blog word for word...he still didn't bother. So he has lost his vote in the matter and he knows it. I won't lie and pretend that even after all this that the fact that he doesn't care to read a single word of it hurts me. And now I have destroyed so much of it in my manic panic that I may just start elsewhere. A clean page. I can remember days when I still used a pen and a blank piece of paper seemed like an ocean of possibilities. Maybe a new blog will best.

If I do that I will post an e-mail address for ya'll to contact me, and start a new private blog. I want to keep this one open in case someone new stumbles upon it that could benefit from what little I have left of my bi-polar journey. They can contact me to be invited to the new blog.

The Seeds of Doubt

So I have been talking to a guidance counselor from a University that shall remain nameless. She pissed me off today. I told her I did not want to get an Elementary Ed degree as she was pushing me to get. Clearly I am not getting the job that I applied for or they would have called me by now, I am sad about that but they want a Bachelor's degree....obviously I don' t have one, so I want to follow my heart and get a degree in Psychology. I really think I could be of help to women like me. Kids like me. Hell people like me. I am a survivor. The skills I have and the mistakes I have made learning to be a survivor could be invaluable to someone and that is really where my heart is leaning.

She advises me against becoming a psychologist because of my disorder. She says suicide rates are high amongst bipolar therapists. "Check the stats" she says and then goes on with her used car salesmen spiel about Elementary Ed and about how it doesn't matter what your BA is in as long as you have one (which sounds like BS if you ask me :0) and if I wanted to do Psychology later I could. Well if I was going to go to the trouble of working towards a Master's in Psych, why wouldn't I start there to begin with???? Duh! I'd end up taking classes I hadn't fulfilled with my BA in order to get my MA......AAAAUUUGGGHHH But the biggest thing is telling me I can't do something! I am kind of like Ruth from Fried Green Tomatoes "Don't say neva to me!" That's the quickest way to get me to do it! (I had a reading teacher tell me I would never learn to read in 4th grade because I always acted up in her class.....I was bored in her class
~ended up in Advance Reading the next year~....and look at me now Mrs. Sterchi, not only can I read but I can write so ppptttthhhhh! :0) And to tell me it's because of my illness, because she has a son with BPD blah blah blah....no two people or diagnosis's are alike.....and I AM checking the stats....can't find any. None.

So please, by all means....someone show me some proof. And I dare ya to tell me I can't do this.....BPD or not! I hate people who plant seeds of doubt for their own gain. I am sure she gets commission money off of her 'sales'

Layers

As I have been going through this intense journey of self discovery, therapy and illness something very sad has occurred to me. Something that I think when I look back I intentionally did to myself. Some twisted form of protection. Layers upon layers of protection to be less attractive. To drive away unwanted (and perhaps even wanted) pursuers. Victims of sexual abuse often do this to themselves and it has occurred to me, and is becoming evidently clear that in 13 years, I let myself go from this :


To this:
In the attempts of protection. In some twisted way, even though he doesn't even exist in my life anymore, it would drive him away. Perhaps it's even a punishment. Punishing myself for things I am not at fault for, but at the time felt I was. This statement sounds horribly conceited but I think I felt if I were less attractive, none of this would have happened. I realize that is not a true statement, but as a kid that is how I felt. Now the question is what to do about it. I have let myself go from a 130 pound healthy looking girl to a well....let's just say I am quite fluffy and sporting more than my fair share of extra pounds, my weigh hasn't doubled, but in a few years if I keep going at the rate I am going...well..... I don't want to keep punishing my body for something it is not responsible for.......where to begin? My meds are making me gain weight too and that is making it even harder. Oddly enough they kill my appetite, but I gained 4 pounds in a week....although that could have been my monthly visitor (sorry TMI) anyway...I hate this about myself. I rarely even look in the mirror. I hate what I have become. And it doesn't help that baking is one of my favorite hobbies LOL!

But I feel as if there is some significance in figuring out what the cause is. Maybe at least I can get it stopped, because it seems that every year adds another 5-10 pounds. But my motivation to loose it is very low......lazy? Perhaps. Or perhaps still trying to protect myself........how do you shed the need to do that? I realize as we age our bodies go to hell anyway, and looks don't matter in the grand scheme of things, but when I look at myself in the mirror I often think "What have I done to myself?"

Impaling Palin

Can I just be completely un-liberated, anti-feminist, and chauvinistic for a moment? This thought has been bothering me about Sarah Palin. If you are such a wonderful mother, such a wonderful human being....why wouldn't you pass up the nomination for VP to take care of your 17 year old daughter, who is going to need your support and attention now more than any other time in her life? This is strictly my opinion but if my daughter were pregnant I would be completely focused on figuring out how to help and teach her how to be responsible for this child. As a candidate she is completely unavailable and unfocused on her family. As VP she would be the same. This bothers me. I understand ambition. I have plenty of my own. But if she was that awesome, the offer would have come around again sometime......wouldn't you think it would be better to focus on the problems you have in your own home?

I welcome a debate on this, what do ya'll think. I like her spunk, I disagree with her on almost every issue and I hate that she has flip flopped on so many things, but that's every politician. But this thought about her pregnant teenage daughter keeps popping in my head. Why would you abandon your family when they need you the most? Is power really that important? Even the thought at the chance of being the leader of the free world is not enough to make me toss my kids aside to further my career. Now think about this long and hard before you slam me. I am not saying she doesn't love her kids. But there is no way she is going to be around to help with that baby.....is Bristol going to be left to learn about parenting with a Nanny and her Dad? As a mother myself, helping with life changing milestones are some of the things I look forward to (and also dread) the most.......Just my opinion, but I think she has made a bad call for her family, a choice fueled by being power hungry.

If I hear one more time....

"Your meds must not be working"... I'm going to scream. How do I make him understand that this is not something I can snap my fingers and make go away...because believe you me if I could I FUCKING WOULD!!! How can I explain that this is not all about him, that every mood swing, every shift, every anxiety is not in some way related to some sort of anger or hatred towards him. We even had the 'dealing with this for the rest of our lives' conversation last night and I told him if he didn't think he could handle it he might as well pack up now, because I don't have any answers. I don't have any way to make it go away. I realize I am not the person he married. I get it. I hate it. More for my children than for him. He's a grown up. Why can't he act like one. Pick up a fucking book...see a therapist, search online...anything to be pro-active in this rather than make me feel like a fucking lunatic who needs a new pill every time I am in a bad mood, or 'too good of a mood'. I may never again be that same person I was 4 months ago, and especially not 4 years ago. But this is beyond my control. I have vowed to do everything I can to be pro-active in my health, better diet, exercise, education, therapy and medication. He has done nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. When this started he vowed to support me in whatever may come. This is not support....and it's not helping me mentally.

I don't cry. But I feel like crying today. I just might have to. Of course this morning there were "sorry's" all around, there always are, but I am so sick and fuck and tired of sorry I could puke the letters out into the toilet bowl and watch them scramble and swirl as they make their way down the pot......I'm done with sorry. I can only fix myself. If that means doing it by myself, so be it.

Edited to add that after I posted this I realized it sounded like I was throwing in the towel. Don't panic...I haven't packed up yet...I just meant that things are going to have to change or we are not going to be able to live under the same roof.

Take 5 of these and call me in the morning.....

More pills....out with the old and in with the new....getting rid of the Abilify and Lamictal. It apparently causes a reaction in me that is agonizing...ANXIETY...constant anxiety. Not the worry type anxiety, but the can't sit still, restless, need to run 10 miles but no way I'm dragging my fat ass out there to do it kind of anxiety. So back to a small smidge of Seroquel and a big helping of Depakote. Maybe this will do the trick. I am tired of ingesting a pharmacy everyday. This makes 5 a day not including ibuprofen and things!

No word on the job yet either, I'm thinking that's not good.....so it's back to looking into school.

A is for ass, as in pain in the ass.
N nothing seems to help
X is for exhausted
I want to be able to relax
Even my toes won't sit still
This has to stop sometime
Yup, I'm having issues......


I just can't seem to get rid of my anxiety in the last few days. My brain won't shut up. I don't know if it's because of the job, or family issues, or my fishin' buddy finally getting her butt home and out of the ARMY, money issues or what. It could be good anxiety or bad anxiety but it just won't go away!!! Even my 'downer' pills....I feel like a pill popper....don't even make a dent in it. I can take two Valium and I am still going 100mph. On the flip side I have been sewing like a mad woman and am going to be ready to reopen my website soon....and my house is clean. But my back hurts, my hands are sore and I still have that headache....but I just can't sit still. Not even right now...gotta go. It's almost 10 p.m. and I am going to go sew some more.

Random Musings from The Pastoral Princess

I was sitting outside this morning on my porch drinking coffee and smoking my one cigarette of the day with a slight tummy ache. This led to several humorous random thoughts that I thought my readers might enjoy.

Don't you hate it when you have this awful gas pain, and then you finally feel like you can fart and all that pain resulted in one teeeeeeny weeeeeny little toot?

Don't you hate it when you are so groggy in the morning that you don't get the coffee filter in the pot right and then you get little coffee grounds in your cup?

Don't you hate when those coffee grounds get stuck in your teeth because you are so desperate for the caffeine that you drank it anyway?

Don't you hate it when you find out in the morning, as your husband is making his lunch that you left the mayonnaise out overnight?

Don't you hate when your husband won't talk to you over something as stupid and spoiled mayo?

Don't you hate it when you have to get your kids out of bed for school....when you'd much rather stay in bed yourself?

Don't you love it when your kids throw their arms around you and bury their little heads in your neck?

Don't you hate it when you realize there is snot running down your shirt from the adorable little snuggle?

Don't you love it when your husband does the dishes?

Don't you hate it when this accomplishment requires 3 days worth of praise and recognition?

Don't you hate it when your toddler is in your lap and says "I farted!" only to realize that said 'fart' is running out the diaper onto your jeans?

Don't you love finding little gifts in the carpet from repeated 'farting' episodes?

My favorite gripe is hearing my husband brag about my writing, which should make me feel good.....he's never read a single word I have written except notes to him.

My favorite joy is when someone else tells me they love my writing....who faithfully checks in everyday.

Don't you hate it when the phone rings and the person on the other end says "Could I please speak to Jeeeda....or Joda.... or whatever your name is pronounced completely wrong? This always results in a CLICK!

Don't you hate it when you donate to the State Police after 911 and they've called you every f'n day for the last 7 years for more money....even when you tell them to stop?

Isn't it odd how some flowers that are absolutely beautiful smell like a bad fart?

How can something as wonderful as fresh cooked bacon make such a stink in your house for a week?

Is there really anything tastier than a fresh garden tomato with a bit of salt?

Why do they call a driveway a 'driveway' and not a parkway? Why do they call a parkway a 'parkway' and not a driveway?

Doesn't it drive you nuts when people say "I could care less" when they really should be saying "I couldn't care less" if they are trying say they don't really care?

Don't you hate people like me who are a stickler for grammar? :0)~

Isn't it odd that for someone with a stickler for grammar I still say ya'll, ain't, cain't, mater, tater, over the shoulder boulder holder, and 'that's neater than a skeeter's peter!"?

Have a great day folks! I am going to sew sew sew today!

The Little Engine that Couldn't?

I am starting to doubt myself for the first time in a long time. I am usually the ballsy, take on the world, I can conquer anything kind of chick. But I am starting to have serious doubts about my ability to handle going back to school, while trying to hold down enough jobs to pay the bills, and manage my illness at the same time......I want that degree like a fat girl wants cake!! And trust me on that, I am a fat girl! :0)

But what if I can't do it? I can't put my family into that kind of debt simply to fail. I am notorious for starting big projects or having big plans and ideas that I abandon once they are no longer exciting or stimulating. (what we now know is a common symptom of my illness) And let's face it, school isn't always going to be exciting or stimulating. In fact it's going to down right SUCK sometimes. But I WANT THAT DEGREE......I was deciding on Psychology or English....now I am just trying to decide whether I even have the balls to try. What has happened to me?

D Day

Well today is the day.....the day I go see Dr. Whatshisname with the M.D. behind it, in an office adorned with leather bound books regarding the latest and greatest theories in mental health. There of course will be a few tomes from Freud simply for the nostalgia factor... I am picturing the proverbial couch...I hope it's velvet in some rich dark color, but it's probably some lame, cheaply upholstered chair with wooden arms. Yes Yes I am being a drama queen...sue me. I am in a good mood at the moment. Or at least a good enough mood to make some attempt at humor.

I am a bit nervous about this appointment. I fear that I will be rushed through a list of questions like

"Are you suicidal?"
"No"
"Are you homicidal?"
"No"
"Do you still remember to brush your teeth everyday?"
"Yes"
"Well then you're not that bad off, keep taking your meds, suck it up, grow some balls and quit being a cry baby!"

Yes I realize it's not going to go like that....not exactly anyway. But I do fear that the fact that my extremes aren't that extreme (yet anyway) is going to classify me in some 'brush off' category. And I don't want a brush off. I am scared and freaked out by all this. I want a savior to swoop in and tell me everything is going to be alright, we can fix this, you will get better, you aren't loosing your mind.....and I know that expecting a savior is unrealistic as well. I guess I just really don't know what to expect. I am not looking forward to airing all my dirty laundry and coughing up all my sins and bad behavior that seem to put the pieces of my illness together like a puzzle, even from a civilian point of view like mine.

So it's D Day

Decisions Day...
Doubts Day...
Dismal Day?
Dedication Day?
Determined Day!
Disconnect Day?
Deactivate Day?
or perhaps simply Disturbed Day.....

My one hope is that my husband will listen and take some time to be educated about BPD. We may not survive this if he doesn't. Every mood and change in behavior he takes upon himself. The concept or idea that perhaps this is just occurring to me for no other reason than the fact that I have BPD is foreign to him. He has to find a reason, and he usually looks at himself for those reasons. He needs guidance too. I hope they give it, I hope he takes it.

The Couch Session

Remember when I was talking about the tidal wave? The massive wall of depression that was about to fall on me and devour me, and yet I was powerless to stop it.....

I have that same dreadful feeling as my appointment with my 'head shrinker' approaches. I know that he, or a counselor of his choosing is going to want to pry into my brain and cough up all my dirty little secrets. All the skeletons in my closet are going to have to be dragged out and tried on for size and analyzed for their particular impact on my once fragile infantile psyche.....

See I've been through this therapy shit already....many times! I can't believe I am even going to spill this to the entire world, but when I was 14 my mom had me 'committed' to a adolescent psych unit for 4 weeks (that was how long the insurance would cover)...she claimed I had tried or wanted to kill myself....which was a complete and total lie! She blurted out in a family therapy session that I made 'her want to kill herself'....rather quickly my therapy switched from WTF is wrong with you? To how the hell do we get this girl out of here? A dear friend's parents even went so far as to look into adopting me....(Love You Fessels!) but there I was stuck, for 4 weeks in a mental hospital. My stepfather whisked my mother away to Canada for a vacation...running I am sure from the things I might spill in my therapy sessions....he didn't quite think through his little plan to get rid of me. The 'experts' expressed concerns that they felt I had been sexually abused and put me in group therapy but I never coughed up all my secrets. I am stubborn as hell, always have been. Still am. And I am sick and fucking' tired of being asked.

Can't the results just suffice for the answers? Isn't it clear that I am fucked up? Do I really have to vomit up my past? Can't we just leave it in the landfill in the back of my brain and pile all my other bad but less traumatic memories on top it...pile it so high that maybe we can convince my brain it doesn't even exist?

I didn't intend to blog about this tonight but for some reason it is just pouring out of me and I am rolling with it....Let me paint a picture for you of what life was like for 12 year old me....My mom worked all the time, probably 2 jobs actually to pay the bills. My dad was a deadbeat who might slip her a $50 and buy me candy if he ever came around. Meanwhile my mother, as we know now, was suffering terribly. I am sure fighting the demons in her head that had to be starting to creep up on her even when I was a child had to be maddening and frightening.....Then along comes Mr. Wonderful. Mr. Wonderful who already has a wife...but he's taking care of that promptly. Mr. Wonderful who has met this troubled attractive woman with a busty blossoming beautiful young girl and swoops in to care for us. To rescue us.....at a price. So many things I see now that I couldn't see then. Things that happened within his own first family that are too disgusting for me to even think about and then he walked into our family.......but I was stubborn. I didn't make it easy....but I was smart....I knew I was being manipulated, groomed, prepared, romanced.....I kept my mouth shut . My mom seemed so happy. I would be blamed. I was always trouble and it would be my fault somehow. So this tip toeing ensued while I kept my silence. Then finally he makes his move....

He fucked with the wrong girl though....I've been a tough mother fucker since I was tot. I scared him off....and he stayed away....for a while.....

Long story short, in my late teens, as my mother is loosing her mind, divorcing him because she is having paranoid delusions about him, I make the mistake of telling her things that actually ARE true about him...but she is so clouded by her illness she disregards them. She divorced him. Four months later she remarried him. I suppose leaving an 18 year old girl a house, rent free, was supposed to be consolation enough for what I had had to endure.....they moved away and I didn't hear from them for several months.

I spent most of my nights alone, smoking pot, writing poetry and trying loose myself in the flow or words. I eventually consumed enough drugs to forget, for a while, that the real world outside my door was hell.

Fast forward 5 years later, to my wedding day. A day I cannot have my mother attend because she is convinced that my ex-stepdad (they have re-divorced by then) is going to murder me at my wedding....even tries to hire my half brother and my dad as hitmen....bad bad bad scene.....but I held my head high and had my wedding just as I'd planned....pretending not to hear the whispers of 'Where is her Mom?"......

Fast forward 4 months to a knock on my door in the middle of the night. My mom. Estranged from me. Asked to stay away until she would get help and stay on her meds.....asking if we can be a family again. Her eyes almost begging and screaming at me not to turn her away. I ask if she is taking her meds...knowing by the energy bouncing off of her that she is not. "No" she says defiantly. "Then no we cannot be a family again...." As she turned to leave I grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around to look at me. I looked her square in the eye and said "But I LOVE YOU! I Love You! I Love You! Nothing is going to change that" and I hugged her. She didn't hug back. She never hugged back...even as a kid...she always just limply put her hand at your waist...she left quietly....

She passed away 2 weeks later. God gave me the gift of being able to say goodbye. I will never forget his kindness for that.....

So see...there are reasons I am fucked up. And they are reasons I thought I didn't want to talk about but apparently just spilled them all to you...think I can just print my blog out and give it to my therapist and tell her to give me a call when she's gotten up to speed on things? Ha! And I can write this shit so much easier than I can say it. Some of the things I have written above I cannot and have not spoken about...I don't know why I chose tonight to purge. But there ya have it.

I just dread having to drag all of this back up again. I know how emotionally draining it is....how hard and sickening and frightening. Nothing reduces you back to being a child like recalling childhood trauma.

Comfortably Numb

Hellooooo Helloooo...is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me? Is there anyone at home?

I feel like I am functioning at a numb, tolerable yet not fully functioning level. It's hard to explain. I don't want my life to revolve around my illness...I never intended for my blog to be a running commentary of my latest drug and therapy trials. When I started this blog I didn't know I was sick. I don't like that every single moment of my life right now seems to always hangs somewhere between "am I OK right now?" and "am I falling back down again?"....but that's what it feels like I am doing. I keep trying to tell myself that as I get used to living with this, start a more clear course of treatment and find the best way to quiet the beast I will feel better....but that destination seems like a long long journey and my horse is tired....

I need rest. I know this. It's hard to find even the remote possibility of rest....If only I had a nanny! LOL!

The Beast of Burden

Well somehow I went from feeling ten times better this week to being rapidly sucked back into the abyss of depression. I mentioned yesterday I was feeling melancholy. By the end of the day I was full on distressed. I guess I had what doctors describe as a mixed episode, which after paying attention to patterns of behavior and emotions that I have experienced in the past few months, is pretty common for me. By the time my daycare kids all went home my head was screaming so loudly, my migraine excuse really wasn't a lie at all. Every sound they made echoed in my ears 1000 times louder than it should have been and every squeal and scream sent my brain folding in itself. I managed to 'function' until my husband got home but then back into the dark dungeon of my bedroom I went. Hiding under the covers in silence, with a fan on to block out noise and a pillow over my head for good measure. Apparently I stayed this way for 3 hours, completely oblivious to the fact that my MIL (who is becoming much more informed and understanding about this by the way) came over and cleaned my house...took the kids home with her, and tried to calm my husband down. I don't think I really slept....dozed maybe....but I mostly just tried to calm the engines in my head, which seemed to think it was a good time for Daytona 500 to take place.

So on to the husband. He is more devastated now than he was two weeks ago. I think he thought I could just take my pills and be fine forever and we could go on about our merry *ha* way. I've tried to explain to him that this is something that I will be dealing with forever. There is no magic fix. Medication and therapy are going to be vital parts of keeping on top of this and staying healthy....but nothing 'cures' this. I wish he would read some of the literature I have bought in the last few weeks....but he hasn't bothered. It's easier to just blame doctors and my job and every other stressor in my life than to try to understand the nature of the beast.

If I can just get through these next two days with my rowdy school kids I will be ok. I know now it's the stress of their fighting and yelling at each other, the constant pestering, wrestling, noise and chaos that triggers that little thing in my brain to cry "Gentleman....start your engines!" and then some little bipolar demon waves the green flag and they're off......

We have an Olympic day planned today. We made medals yesterday and are planning events like and obstacle course, discus toss (frisbee), relay races, and shot put (big rock throw).....if I can keep that interesting and hold off the

"Hey that's not fair!"
"He cheated!"
"It was MY turn!"
"I quit, this isn't fair!"
"You didn't do it right!"
"He hit me!"
"He kicked me first!"

then maybe I will survive. I keep trying to tell myself....It's supposed to be fun! Think positive. If I assume the kids are going to be turd heads....they will.

Oh did I mention that on our way to Red Hill State Park the other day, the day we had soooooo much fun, that on the way there I had to stop the car twice to yell at the school kids who would not stop hitting and slapping in the back seat? Yeah.....I love my job. Two more days.

Auuugghhhh I'm Grounded!!!

So it seems my affection for gay porn has caused my internet service provider to limit my acess to the internet....ok, yes I am kidding....I upload too many pictures of my kids and download too much music..which of course I forgot my service has a cap on. If you go over the limit you fall to the bottom of the priority list on getting connection speeds. Sooooo the only time I can get online right now is early in the morning and late at night...ugggghhhh This will last until my 'usage' falls below the 'limit'. I hate being told what to do!!!

I am going to be blogging in Word and then pasting for the next thirty days LOL! I can see myself crawling out of bed at 3 a.m. to post a blog.....ok no I can't, I like sleep too much...so if you don't hear from me on an ultra regular basis don't panic....I'm just grounded. I've been a bad girl and hogged too much 'bandwith'.....

So our trip to Red Hill State Park was heavenly. The kids had a blast. We hiked and hiked and climbed hills, crawled over fallen logs, pointed out deer runs and prayed for no poison ivy. Did I mention the kids had fun? Did I mention that I went to bed at 8 p.m. last night? LOL! OMG I was so tired. See we had so much fun hiking that we just kept going.....and then in finally occurs to me that we are going to have to hike the same distance back. Well with a two year old that proved to be a bit hard on me as I found myself hiking with a 35 pound human backpack...in addition to the actual backpack that I had packed full of a first aid kit, diapers, bug spray etc... Let's just say Miss Jada is hoping today is a quiet day....but I won't get my hopes up!

I have been feeling some setbacks in the last two days regarding my moods. It's not depression, just melancholy. I think the stress of having all the kids back is a big trigger for me. But I just have to get through the next 3 days. I can do that....I hope. Yesterday was the day I was supposed to up my Seroquel dosage, so I did that last night. Perhaps that will help too. I am now on double the dosage I was taking (which is still a relatively small dose compared to what I have read on the internet). I dread the drowsiness, because that has still been somewhat of an issue. I am sure I will be dragging ass today. But I have candy....and I'm not above bribing :0)~

I am considering doing a review here on Seroquel. Mostly because when it was first prescirbed to me I went scouring the net to find patient reviews, opinions and side effects. Since it seems my secret is out anyway I think I will do that sometime soon. So ya'll regular readers can just ignore that post, unless you are comfortable with me talking about cotton mouth and constipation. :0)~ But I know it meant a lot to me find real people's opinions and experiences with the drug. If I can help someone make a decision about getting help, I would be happy to do that. Even if it means talking about poop.

Anyhoo the first set of rugrats are pulling in the driveway so I have to go put my 'daycare' hat on! Have a great day!

I don't think we're in Kansas anymore Toto

So the doc prescribed me some stronger meds...something geared towards Bipolar disorder, even though he intended to wait and let the shrink do that....but I had a massive freak out anxiety attack on Monday and hubby and I decided we better let the Dr. know....so after a long drawn out battle with my insurance company over which drug they would or would not approve for me (isn't it funny how your life always hangs in the balance of your doctor's expert opinion and the opinion of some pencil pusher behind a desk at the insurance company?)

Introducing Seroquel.......all I can say is WOW...ok I also have to say WTF???!!!! Within 30 minutes of taking the pill I can remember telling hubby something along these lines "Wow...I'm weeelly weeeeeelllllyy getting sweeepy...I don't know I can stay awaaaaaaa...." Then BAM...OUT...ZONKED....KNOCKED OUT for 3 hours!!! Hubby was nervous and I guess even checked my pulse a few times....I don't remember anything...it was a bit like the anesthesia you get before surgery....a total trip to Oz.

I was starting to come out of my stupor when my husband, the one I have been bragging about...the one I have been so proud of...the one my faith had been restored in...was having a huge temper tantrum with the kids in the bathroom. Apparently he was giving them a bath and they were being difficult (no surprise there)...the kids are crying...he's yelling and one of the boys says "I want Mommy!!"

I am trying to will my body to move, I can't get up, I feel like a led weight. I can't do it. Until I hear my husband yell "Well Mommy's not coming because she's all doped up!!! Well let me tell you folks...that got the adrenaline pumping!!! I crawled off the couch and stumbled down the hallway in time to greet my two little angels (devils) wrapped in towels and crying. I wanted to be mad and yell at my husband, but on one hand the kids had heard enough yelling, and on the other hand I was still so out of it I couldn't really muster the strength. I took the boys in my room and dressed them and snuggled them in my bed and we watched a movie. Hubby came in later all tears and apologies....which I understand, he was frustrated and worried about me, the kids were screaming etc etc etc....BUT I was sooooo mad that he said those words to our kids. I mustered enough strength to mumble to him something about never ever talking about me like that to the children again!!!! I am still mad about it today. I know he is remorseful about it...but that sure as hell doesn't erase it.

You know there have been a few times when hubby has spent the day running around with his buddies and come home drunk and the kids are wanting him to do this or do that and he is to sleepy to do anything but zonk out on the couch...I have never EVER, said "Daddy can't play with you now because he's DRUNK!" I would never ever do that. And my issues last night were legit and beyond my control. It fuckin' pissed me off!!!! Arrrggghhhh Ok, I am still mad about it, can you tell?

So anyway back to the new meds....WOW! What do I do? I actually do feel really good today as far as feeling stable. I don't feel like I am teetering at the top of a roller coaster wondering if I am going to go racing down the tracks or stay safe and secure at the top.....I feel level...for lack of a better word. If the 'knock out' effect of the drug would subside, I think this could be a good fit for me. But I can't afford to be knocked out and be a mother at the same time.....I called the doctor, we'll see what he says.

But so far, so good today. My girlfriend Beth took the kids for the morning so I could relax. (Same friend who did all my shopping last week) I am gonna owe that girl big time when she has kids someday!!!!! I have a the best friends in the world!!!

I Am The Egg Shell

Suddenly I am the basket case that my family is afraid to disrupt.....let's face it, for a day or so it was nice to not be bothered with the kids fussing and squabbling, especially while I was lost in my darkness hiding under the covers. But I am feeling better today, and it seems that my husband is afraid to let me do anything remotely stressful. God Bless Him for that....but I am starting to feel like a newborn or something. I finally tried to gently tell him that I am not going to fall apart if the kids start screaming...I will not keel over and die...and I have to get back into the real world and live my life, sick or not. I am not going to hide out in my bedroom forever, although it's a tempting thought...but I am a mother first. I will find a way to take care of myself AND take care of them. I haven't had any anxiety attacks today and am starting to feel a little less gloomy. I have had a headache for the last 3 days that just won't go away though...I don't know if that is a residual affect of my brain exploding or what (yes, I jest)...and I did take a 3 1/2 hour nap with the kids...but I am feeling more like myself today.

I am still not keen on venturing out of the house yet. I would like to go to the church picnic tomorrow, but I just don't think I can. People expect the "Perky" girl, the sociable jabber box who has hugs and smiles for everyone...I am not that person right now. Perhaps I am an egg shell after all....

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Crazy Pants

I have some amazing friends. My support system is absolutely fabulous and I don't know where I would be or what kind of state I might be in if it weren't for those few people I can honestly admit to that "I'm freakin' out here!!!". I have two friends who I can just be bare bones honest with, because they've been there...and another friend who might not understand but loves me anyway! She came over yesterday and took over all Mommy duties and even did all my Wal-Mart/Grocery shopping for me. That was HUGE...the thought of having to step foot in such a public place right now just freaks me out. I still feel so fragile, and one wrong look or running in to all those people I know who I have to 'fake' it with is more than I can handle right now. In fact I am skipping our church picnic...the one I am on a committee for, the one I told you all about that is the biggest event of the year and that I sooooo enjoy. Yup, not going. Can't do it. The idea scares the shit out of me and I feel anxiety creeping up my throat everytime I consider trying to go. I kept thinking "Oh I'll be better by then....." Clearly this a journey, not a day trip.

I have started a mood journal to try and track my cycling moods. I am not sure if it's due to the recent 'freak out' or if I am truly developing a more noticeable manic/depressive pattern, but I am cycling more frequently than I thought. Hell maybe I have been this way for a long time and didn't notice.... Some of that may be due to the double dose of Cymbalta, which I found out from an RN friend that that is a horrible thing to do to a patient who might be bipolar. But hey my Doctor is a country doc from BFE....I can't fault him for just pulling an idea out of his ass...or can I? LOL! So I am going back to my regular dose and risking the lows that might come with it. The manic episode from yesterday morning was something straight out of an after school special for Methamphetamine!! Good God! I have some friends who have gotten messed up on that....I don't think I was a far cry from that kind of high for a few hours yesterday morning! It was awful! Fortunately for me, my manic episodes have never produced any crazy wild inappropriate behavior (ok, shut up girls...I can hear my girlfriends cackling right now about some of our 'Girl's Night's Out') I just have difficulty concentrating and staying on task and have an abundant amount of energy. Basically I am going 100 mph but I can't think straight long enough to put the energy to good use!!!

Here's hoping today is a good day....I am currently looking for some support forums online. I think that will help too. Ya'll have no idea how much it means to me that all of you out there in cyber land have been so supportive! It has made me feel free to share my struggle and document this journey to the fullest. I think writing about it helps me tremendously, and I am grateful to have made some wonderful friends here who are praying for me and looking in on me here. (((((((((Hugs))))))))))

Already bucking the system

Well I made it through the day....hubby went back to work today and I survived with my two kids alone without hiding under the covers...at least until he got home. It takes so much energy to 'fake it' for them, that tonight I feel like I have run a marathon. I feel like I am walking through water. My brain is empty. My emotions are numb.

I can tell the double dose of Cymbalta created some manic symptoms today, they were a welcome reprieve from the depths of despair of earlier this week. I can see why so many bipolar patients end up refusing treatment or not staying on course....If I were completely honest with myself I would tell you that I strongly fear loosing the mania. The energy. The creativity. The lack of need for sleep. The crazy antics and the wild hair ideas. Part of me doesn't want to find the 'happy medium'. And I think if I didn't have kids I would refuse treatment. But the crash involved when the mania escapes is too much of a burden on my family. And while I have yet to ever be suicidal I am aware that if bipolar disorder goes untreated for years the depression side of it come become down right scary. I don't want to be that person. So I am going to have to be willing to sacrifice some of my crazy ass energy and tendencies in order to become a more stable and healthy person. I am afraid of it.

The more research I do, the more I can already say I have become very prejudice to Lithium and I pray that this drug is not something on the agenda for me. There are so many drugs out there to try...I will push for an alternative. As a writer, as an artist, as a creative person I refuse to sacrifice myself to the numbing holy altar of Lithium. I watched my mother succumb to this drug as well, and in the end it was not appropriate for her condition, but the side affects were sad. I don't want to be a zombie....and perhaps I am mistaken about this drug, but I will fight to keep it out of my body. I want to be well informed about the drugs that are going to be shoved down me to try to make me 'normal'

Funny I didn't used to worry about any drugs I consumed...the more the better, and the greater the intoxication the better....now here I am 'clean'... and all fucked up in the head....ain't life just a barrel of monkeys.

P.S. Some of you may have noticed a big change in my playlist....big changes in life called for some more appropriate tunes....enjoy

MIL Madness

I realize that some of this could be a symptom of my illness...but I cannot stop obsessing over the words my MIL spoke to me last night and how much they have hurt. She wasn't mean about it...it's just the fact that she said them at all. And now I feel as if I have no outlet...no reprieve...when the kids are more than I can take and I need a few hours to recoup...I am out of options. The fact that she says she 'has no life' over this just tears out my gut. She works part time, and I know that having the kids one evening a week and on Saturday mornings does eat up a lot of her time...but I had no idea I was causing her such 'grief'. It's all I can think about this morning and the tears just keep coming. I keep trying to figure out an alternative. A way to give up some of my jobs without bankrupting us. Obviously at some point the day care is going to have to go. But I have two pregnant mommies counting on me, a new baby supposed to start next month....and what do I say???? WTF do I say????

And what do I say to her??? I love her. She is the mother of my husband. We have our problems...no doubt...but I don't want to hurt her. And even if I did choose to bring this up and how badly it hurt me, it will be blamed on my illness. In fact from now on every issue we ever have from here on out will be blamed on my illness. That is her MO...all her issues with her husband get blamed on his drinking, issues with my husband get blamed on his 'sensitivity' etc....it's never her fault, and now everyone has the ultimate ammunition against me. Which sounds a bit paranoid...but not untrue. My side of the family is used to dealing with mental illness....his family, mmm not so much. Although there have been several suicides back in the family tree, so they aren't completely free from the demon.

I am writing her a letter I fully intend to NOT give to her. Maybe it will at least make me feel a bit better. She will chalk them up to the ramblings of a madwoman....maybe they are.