I haven't been on in a few days. I went to the doctor as planned on the 12th. It was a good visit all and all, but did not go as I had planned at all. My medications have changed yet again. He decided that he would drop me from Seroquel XR 300mg tablets to 2 50mg tablets of the same drug. Then he shocked me by adding a drig called Topamax. As soon as he said the word, I nearly had a pnic attack. I have researched bipolar medications and I have read extensively on this medication. Although it has been shown to help with weight lose, the side effects are horrible. When I expressed my concerns, he kinda just brushed them aside like I was over reacting. He claims he uses the drug alot and has seen great success. I hope this is true. I really, really do. Now I'm going to post some of the side effects, so that you can decide if I'm wrong to be concerned about taking this medication.
First, here are the Cautions: Keep all lab appointments while you are using this medication. Lab/medical test may be done while using this medication. Before having any surgery, medical procedure, or dentistry inform them you are taking this medication. This medication may reduce sweating which could raise your body temperature. The risk of this serious side effect is greater in hot weather. (Hello I live in Oklahoma. Temp for today 112) This medication may cause high blood acid levels called metabolic acidosis. This medicine may cause serious eye problems that could lead to permanent loss of vision. Those are just the cautions. Now lets get to the side-effects.
Side effects of Topamax include diarrhea, drowsiness, constipation, loss of appetite, nausea, numbness and tingling, decreased sweating, tiredness, trouble sleeping, chest pain, loss of concentration, severe abdominal pain, significant weight loss, loss of coordination, memory problems, vision changes, unusual eye movement, fast, deep breathing, unusual bruising or bleeding, irregular heartbeat, tremor, and change in speech.
Isn't this the greatest drug you have ever read about???? I wonder how confident my doctor would feel about this medication if he were told that he needed to take it? Just bugs me that he can shrug off my concerns so easilly. It's like Im spending a fortune between his fee and the fees at the pharmacy and in the end it may not matter because half of these drugs may kill me before they ever fix me. I'm bipolar....That doesn't mean I am suicidal or have a death wish. As a matter of fact with me, its quite the opposite: I want to live. Thats why I'm taking all these damn medications. I take them because I want to live my life, not sleep it away or walk around in a fog. Either way I'm not living life. Hopefully the worst of these side-effects miss me altogether and i just get better.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Who the hell knows
So very tired of being so very tired. I sleep too much, then sleep not enough. I have got to figure a way to pull my head out of my ass and get on some kind of routine with sleep. Easier said than done.
Imagine you are the sleepiest you have ever been. You can barely hold your eyes open to focus on anything and then just when you are about to fall asleep...BAM! Eyes snap open and your wide freaking awake. Mind rasing with 100 thoughts of things you need to do, should do, things you have done and things that quite frankly you have no idea why your thinking about it. All you want to do is get some sleep and no matter what you try doesn't work. You punch your pillow, change the thermastat, make hot cocoa, anything just to find your way to the blissfulness of dreamland. That's what it's like for me these days. So physically tired that you dont actually accomplish much of anything while you are awake, but no matter how tired you are, you just can't sleep. Make's me want to scream out my frustration out at the top of my lungs. Of course, I don't. I'm sure my neighbors would just love that.
So instead of sleeping like most "normal" people at 2 in the morning, I'm blogging about how I can't freaking sleep. Thank goodness for Netflix or I might possibly lose what little I have left of my mind. As I sit here typing, I am watching episodes of Ugly Betty. It has been my constant companion for weeks now. What I'd rather be doing is.....SLEEPING!!!!! I have a million things that I have to do this morning and I will be operating on very little sleep yet again. This is exactly why I can't seem to keep a job. I wind up having to quit because at some point, what goes up must come down. After weeks on end of sleepless night, i turn around and end up sleeping all the time. I want to find some happy medium. I could take the sedatives that the doctor prescribes, but they are not exactly something that I want to take. I wake up feeling groggy and walk around in a half awake/ half asllep status most of the day.
On top of the not sleeping, I'm gaining weight at an alarmingly fast rate. I am up to 195 pounds. As the numbers on my scale climb, my self-esteem plummets. I just don't know what to do to fix it. I keep taking the medications and they cause all these horrible side-effects. I have an appointment with my doctor on the 12th and he is suppose to change my medications then. I should be happy, but I'm not. From all the research I have been doing on mood stabilizers, it seems they all have one common side effect.....Weight gain. In my head I am trying to decide whether it is worth it or not. Is it worth all the extra health problems that may shorten my life? Why isn't there more research done on this disorder? Why are there so few options for us? I want to grow old and watch my children have children of their own. Is that too much to ask for? I mean it is like I have to choose whether to have these horrible life altering moods (thats putting it mildly), or take the meds that are essentially making me unhealthy and may very well shorten my life. It is such an unfair choice to make.
In the end it all comes down to what is best for my family now and unfortunately that means taking these awful medications. They need me to be here for them now. My children deserve to have the best childhood possible. The only way that is going to hapen is if I work with my doctor and figure it out as we go. As much as it hurts me to deal with all the side effects, It would hurt me alot more if I ever hurt my children. I guess that is the price I have to pay. Just wish there were more options.
Imagine you are the sleepiest you have ever been. You can barely hold your eyes open to focus on anything and then just when you are about to fall asleep...BAM! Eyes snap open and your wide freaking awake. Mind rasing with 100 thoughts of things you need to do, should do, things you have done and things that quite frankly you have no idea why your thinking about it. All you want to do is get some sleep and no matter what you try doesn't work. You punch your pillow, change the thermastat, make hot cocoa, anything just to find your way to the blissfulness of dreamland. That's what it's like for me these days. So physically tired that you dont actually accomplish much of anything while you are awake, but no matter how tired you are, you just can't sleep. Make's me want to scream out my frustration out at the top of my lungs. Of course, I don't. I'm sure my neighbors would just love that.
So instead of sleeping like most "normal" people at 2 in the morning, I'm blogging about how I can't freaking sleep. Thank goodness for Netflix or I might possibly lose what little I have left of my mind. As I sit here typing, I am watching episodes of Ugly Betty. It has been my constant companion for weeks now. What I'd rather be doing is.....SLEEPING!!!!! I have a million things that I have to do this morning and I will be operating on very little sleep yet again. This is exactly why I can't seem to keep a job. I wind up having to quit because at some point, what goes up must come down. After weeks on end of sleepless night, i turn around and end up sleeping all the time. I want to find some happy medium. I could take the sedatives that the doctor prescribes, but they are not exactly something that I want to take. I wake up feeling groggy and walk around in a half awake/ half asllep status most of the day.
On top of the not sleeping, I'm gaining weight at an alarmingly fast rate. I am up to 195 pounds. As the numbers on my scale climb, my self-esteem plummets. I just don't know what to do to fix it. I keep taking the medications and they cause all these horrible side-effects. I have an appointment with my doctor on the 12th and he is suppose to change my medications then. I should be happy, but I'm not. From all the research I have been doing on mood stabilizers, it seems they all have one common side effect.....Weight gain. In my head I am trying to decide whether it is worth it or not. Is it worth all the extra health problems that may shorten my life? Why isn't there more research done on this disorder? Why are there so few options for us? I want to grow old and watch my children have children of their own. Is that too much to ask for? I mean it is like I have to choose whether to have these horrible life altering moods (thats putting it mildly), or take the meds that are essentially making me unhealthy and may very well shorten my life. It is such an unfair choice to make.
In the end it all comes down to what is best for my family now and unfortunately that means taking these awful medications. They need me to be here for them now. My children deserve to have the best childhood possible. The only way that is going to hapen is if I work with my doctor and figure it out as we go. As much as it hurts me to deal with all the side effects, It would hurt me alot more if I ever hurt my children. I guess that is the price I have to pay. Just wish there were more options.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Dealing with it.
This blog is mainly here to try and help me. I got the idea from a friend who I will keep anonymous. It's a way for me to try and sort out different aspects of my disorder. I'm told that bipolar affects different people in different ways. So each case is distinctly unique, just as every person is. I'm trying to find a way to deal with it. I'm ashamed of my disorder. I'm ashamed of how it makes me feel and some of the things it causes me to do. The first step to my treatment was admitting to myself that I have a problem. The second step was seeing a professional and taking all my medications as prescribed. The third step is by far the hardest step for me.....Admitting to others that I have a problem.
You see, I play an online war game called Evony. If you have never played, you should. It's a really amazing strategy game and you can make some really great friends. Some of you who read this are going to say,"What does a game have to do with any of this?". Well I'm going to tell you. Before I sought any kind of treatment, Evony was a kind of therapy for me. I was able to make friends, challenge my mind, relieve my stress and anger, and above all fill my time. At some point along the way it turned into something else. I couldn't stay away from it. I was on all the time. I rarely slept. The minute my eyes opened everyday, I immediately logged in. I thought it was great. My husband played the game as well and it was a fun way for us to spend time together. In the beginning it was great. I have been playing that game for years now. The problem is that somewhere all the way, the game became my everything. If my kids asked me to do something, the answered was always," In a minute, I'm busy." I started spending every second on the game. I quit spending time with my family. Everything except Evony was a distraction. When I started seeing a doctor and taking the medications prescribed, I kind of woke up and realized what I had been doing. I felt horrible. I had been neglecting my family for a game. You can't even imagine how badly I felt. When I realized what I had been doing, I cut back on the amount of time I was on each day. This was a very hard thing for me to do, but a necessary thing.
The very first time I admitted to being bipolar, other than to my husband and children, was on Evony. I slowly started telling people I could trust that I had the disorder. When I wasn't criticized there, I told immediate family and friends. My doctor tells me that I need to see a therapist. He say that a combination of therapy and medications is what works best. He feels that by seeing a therapist I can talk about any issues I have to a neutral third party person. Maybe gain some perspective by talking to someone else. Well it's not in my current budget to see a therapist. My friend writes a blog to help her deal with things in her life. She and I have alot in common, although, we do not suffer from the same disorder. Her blog is what gave me the courage to write this blog. Its a way for me to fulfill the step of telling people what I have and to become less ashamed of it. Have you ever noticed that when we are ashamed of things that we tend to hide it. Well I'm still ashamed but I'm no longer hiding it. I'm trying to make myself more comfortable with accepting that I have a mental illness. Accepting it is a very hard thing to do. I may not be able to see a therapist, but I can do this. I can write this blog and talk about things that are weighing on me without having to look into the face of the person I'm talking to. I can sit here in my home with my hair uncombed, in my pajamas, with my mascara running and type at my keyboard all the things on my mind. This I can do. It's really hard for me but I can do it. Am I afraid? Yes, very much so. I'm afraid that someone will read this and think,"What a psycho." It could happen. I think the same thing about myself at times. What I'm doing isn't brave. It isn't a way for me to gain attention. Its a way for ME to deal with my illness. Its to help me heal. So if any of you out there read this and have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. This is my therapy time and I get to be me. I get to say whatever is on my mind to make me feel better. Not to make you feel better.
Right now I'm having a really hard time dealing with life. My children are away on vacation traveling with their grandparents. Great for them, not so great for me. Since they have been gone my anxiety have soared, my sleeping have become sporadic at best. My kids being on vacation is also a good thing. While they are away I have been withdrawals from the Celexa that my doctor is currently taking me off of. He replaced it with a drug called Cymbalta. I had to quit taking the Cymbalta because it gave me severe migraines that kept me in bed. Unfortunately my doctor is on vacation so i just have to deal as best I can while he is away. The withdrawal symptoms have eased up recently so that is a good thing. I no longer have night sweats that drench me and the bed covers. I no longer get the headaches as frequently or with as much intensity. The nightmares have gone away. I think I'm starting to hit the homestretch.
You see, I play an online war game called Evony. If you have never played, you should. It's a really amazing strategy game and you can make some really great friends. Some of you who read this are going to say,"What does a game have to do with any of this?". Well I'm going to tell you. Before I sought any kind of treatment, Evony was a kind of therapy for me. I was able to make friends, challenge my mind, relieve my stress and anger, and above all fill my time. At some point along the way it turned into something else. I couldn't stay away from it. I was on all the time. I rarely slept. The minute my eyes opened everyday, I immediately logged in. I thought it was great. My husband played the game as well and it was a fun way for us to spend time together. In the beginning it was great. I have been playing that game for years now. The problem is that somewhere all the way, the game became my everything. If my kids asked me to do something, the answered was always," In a minute, I'm busy." I started spending every second on the game. I quit spending time with my family. Everything except Evony was a distraction. When I started seeing a doctor and taking the medications prescribed, I kind of woke up and realized what I had been doing. I felt horrible. I had been neglecting my family for a game. You can't even imagine how badly I felt. When I realized what I had been doing, I cut back on the amount of time I was on each day. This was a very hard thing for me to do, but a necessary thing.
The very first time I admitted to being bipolar, other than to my husband and children, was on Evony. I slowly started telling people I could trust that I had the disorder. When I wasn't criticized there, I told immediate family and friends. My doctor tells me that I need to see a therapist. He say that a combination of therapy and medications is what works best. He feels that by seeing a therapist I can talk about any issues I have to a neutral third party person. Maybe gain some perspective by talking to someone else. Well it's not in my current budget to see a therapist. My friend writes a blog to help her deal with things in her life. She and I have alot in common, although, we do not suffer from the same disorder. Her blog is what gave me the courage to write this blog. Its a way for me to fulfill the step of telling people what I have and to become less ashamed of it. Have you ever noticed that when we are ashamed of things that we tend to hide it. Well I'm still ashamed but I'm no longer hiding it. I'm trying to make myself more comfortable with accepting that I have a mental illness. Accepting it is a very hard thing to do. I may not be able to see a therapist, but I can do this. I can write this blog and talk about things that are weighing on me without having to look into the face of the person I'm talking to. I can sit here in my home with my hair uncombed, in my pajamas, with my mascara running and type at my keyboard all the things on my mind. This I can do. It's really hard for me but I can do it. Am I afraid? Yes, very much so. I'm afraid that someone will read this and think,"What a psycho." It could happen. I think the same thing about myself at times. What I'm doing isn't brave. It isn't a way for me to gain attention. Its a way for ME to deal with my illness. Its to help me heal. So if any of you out there read this and have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. This is my therapy time and I get to be me. I get to say whatever is on my mind to make me feel better. Not to make you feel better.
Right now I'm having a really hard time dealing with life. My children are away on vacation traveling with their grandparents. Great for them, not so great for me. Since they have been gone my anxiety have soared, my sleeping have become sporadic at best. My kids being on vacation is also a good thing. While they are away I have been withdrawals from the Celexa that my doctor is currently taking me off of. He replaced it with a drug called Cymbalta. I had to quit taking the Cymbalta because it gave me severe migraines that kept me in bed. Unfortunately my doctor is on vacation so i just have to deal as best I can while he is away. The withdrawal symptoms have eased up recently so that is a good thing. I no longer have night sweats that drench me and the bed covers. I no longer get the headaches as frequently or with as much intensity. The nightmares have gone away. I think I'm starting to hit the homestretch.
She has no idea just how much that simple text message meant to me. You never know in life just where you will find a friend. I found one on a war game of all places. In any case, my children will be returning Sunday night and I am so thankful. My children are the greatest gift that I have ever received. So glad that they were away during the hard stuff, but will be so happy to have them home again, safe and sound. I don't know what the future holds, but I do know this: Although life is sure to throw me plenty of curveballs, I will always find a way to pick myself back up, and get myself back in the game of life.A friend from the game Evony that I told you about recently sent me a message that did wonders for me. She sent: A flower may die, The sun may set, But a person like you, I'll never forget. Your name is precious, it will never grow old. it's engraved in my heart, in letters of gold.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Rambling inside my head
Something I have noticed since I started treatment this time......Sometimes it seems as if I am no longer allowed to have normal motions. For regular people it is ok to be angry, sad, disappointed upset, happy, excited, energetic, and a barage of other emotions. For the bipolar person, ever emotion you have seems to be analyzed. If you suddenly are happy it is like: ut oh is that a manic episode about to come on? If you wake up in a cranky mood, maybe that means the meds arent working properly. Every emotion you have is under careful watch. Anger is most definately not allowed. If you become angry, then an adjustment most definately needs to be made. "WRONG!"
That seriously pisses me off. I may have a disorder, but bipolar is not who I am. I have a name and its Katerina! My name is not bipolar. Bipolar is a part of who I am but it does not define me as a human being. I have real feelings. I can think for myself. I can take care of myself and others. I hate how people presume that they know what I'm going through. I have good days and I have no so good days.
Today was a decent day I suppose. Been having alot of trouble sleeping lately which is not fun. Wasn't able to sleep until 6:00 this morning and I had to breakdown and take a sedative in order to make it happen. First time in weeks that I got great sleep. Slept from 6am- 4pm. It was amazing. Here is the thing, I don't like having to take a pill to make me sleep. I try to explain that to friends and family. They try to help. Sometimes it doesn't feel like help. It feels like I am being criticized. I'm sure that 90% of the time that is not the case, but that doesn't change how it makes me feel. Yes the sedatives work and they make me sleep. They also have risky side effects that come with taking them. They also cause you to wake feeling groggy the next day. You walk around for hours after waking, feeling as if your drifting along in a fog. Pills do not fix everything.
I absolutley do not like having to take so many different kinds of meds. I take the ones that I have to, but the optional ones like Restoril and Xanax, I only take when I absoulutely have to. I hate having to use a crutch, such as a pill, but I am willing to admit that sometimes crutches are needed. Sometimes the lesser of two evils is swallowing your pride and taking a pill. I say swallowing your pride because to me, it hurts my pride to know that I can't always be in complete control of myself. When I become overly anxious and become upset or even feel myself reaching my limit on my emotions, I will take the xanax. Not because I want to, but because it is better for me to swallow a little pill that almost instantly calms me down, than to take my overwhelming emotions out on the people I love. Once anger takes completely over it is harder than hell to be able to reign yourself back. I know this for a fact. I have been so overwhelmed with too many emotions in the past to the point all I wanted in this world was to beat the hell out of the first person I could get my hands on. It's not a pleasant feeling. You always fear that if you dont catch it in time then you will act on those desires.
What most people don't understand about me is that at any given time in the day, my mind may have 100+ things running through it all at one time. It is not something that I can control. These thoughts race through my mind like an F5 tornado. I can process alot more information and multi-task like most can't. It is a gift as well as a curse. On the upside when I am doing well, I can accomplish things that take most people days to finish, in just a few short hours. These are my manic phases. Manic is almost fun. For a while you get to feel alive. Its almost as if you can feel every nerve in your body humming with unused energy, The problem is that while your under a manic state, you think you can do way more than you can. You spend more money than what you actually have to spend, you take on projects that you would't have ever considered before. You are in a sense, juiced up with power. This power makes you feel as if the sky is the limit. You can do anything. Its a very dangerous state to be in. Dangerous but exhilerating. There is nothing else like it in the world.
Part of Bipolar is having to deal with a barage of emotions that sometimes can't seperate themselves from one another. Its hard to be happy, sad, mad, energized and furious all at the same time. There are some days when I wake up and I'm full of energy and ready to go and before lunchtime arrives I'm a crying mess on the couch....And do you know what I'm sad about? Absolutley not a damn thing. I'm just crying and feel such an overwhelming since of sadness that its hard to breathe. Its like there is this weight of pressure crushing in on my chest and you dont know what to do to feel better. Its scary for all involved. Its scary for my kids and my husband. Sometimes it even scares friends way. What most dont get is this......Most people with bipolar will hurt themselves way worse than they would ever hurt someone they care about. We are the best at self mutilation. This doesnt just mean hurting ourselves in physical ways. We do it one better. We hurt ourselves emotionally as well. I will belittle myself for all of my short comings. I feel like a complete failure somedays and I don't cut myself a break. I truly believe that my loved ones derserve someone better than me. Someone who can get up everyday and play all day long. Someone who can do everything right without the expense of all the costly doctor appointments and prescriptions. We generally are happy torturing ourselves. It is a rare occurance these days that someone other than myself has to pay for my shortfalls. When I feel overwhelmed I take the Xanax. When I go too many days without sleep I take the sedatives. I take the mood-stabilizers everyday (despite what they are doing to my body), I take the anti-depressants, and I follow what my doctor recommends as best as I can. Do I like living this way? No, but there isn't really a choice. All I hope for is that one day life will be easier. People too often take for granted the things that they have in life.... I don't because I know that every second counts. Every minute of everyday counts. Because some days I'm going to fail and fail badly. Im not going to be able to drag my butt out of bed no matter how much I want to, or I'm not going to be able to sleep for days on end and that is almost as bad. Every second that Im feeling ok enough that I can force myself to do the things that my loved one need me to do, I do them. No matter how hard it gets.....I will always at least try for them and hope that its enough. Failure seems to go hand and hand with this disorder. We have to take our victories when we can and make the most out of the craziness that happens in our minds.
That seriously pisses me off. I may have a disorder, but bipolar is not who I am. I have a name and its Katerina! My name is not bipolar. Bipolar is a part of who I am but it does not define me as a human being. I have real feelings. I can think for myself. I can take care of myself and others. I hate how people presume that they know what I'm going through. I have good days and I have no so good days.
Today was a decent day I suppose. Been having alot of trouble sleeping lately which is not fun. Wasn't able to sleep until 6:00 this morning and I had to breakdown and take a sedative in order to make it happen. First time in weeks that I got great sleep. Slept from 6am- 4pm. It was amazing. Here is the thing, I don't like having to take a pill to make me sleep. I try to explain that to friends and family. They try to help. Sometimes it doesn't feel like help. It feels like I am being criticized. I'm sure that 90% of the time that is not the case, but that doesn't change how it makes me feel. Yes the sedatives work and they make me sleep. They also have risky side effects that come with taking them. They also cause you to wake feeling groggy the next day. You walk around for hours after waking, feeling as if your drifting along in a fog. Pills do not fix everything.
I absolutley do not like having to take so many different kinds of meds. I take the ones that I have to, but the optional ones like Restoril and Xanax, I only take when I absoulutely have to. I hate having to use a crutch, such as a pill, but I am willing to admit that sometimes crutches are needed. Sometimes the lesser of two evils is swallowing your pride and taking a pill. I say swallowing your pride because to me, it hurts my pride to know that I can't always be in complete control of myself. When I become overly anxious and become upset or even feel myself reaching my limit on my emotions, I will take the xanax. Not because I want to, but because it is better for me to swallow a little pill that almost instantly calms me down, than to take my overwhelming emotions out on the people I love. Once anger takes completely over it is harder than hell to be able to reign yourself back. I know this for a fact. I have been so overwhelmed with too many emotions in the past to the point all I wanted in this world was to beat the hell out of the first person I could get my hands on. It's not a pleasant feeling. You always fear that if you dont catch it in time then you will act on those desires.
What most people don't understand about me is that at any given time in the day, my mind may have 100+ things running through it all at one time. It is not something that I can control. These thoughts race through my mind like an F5 tornado. I can process alot more information and multi-task like most can't. It is a gift as well as a curse. On the upside when I am doing well, I can accomplish things that take most people days to finish, in just a few short hours. These are my manic phases. Manic is almost fun. For a while you get to feel alive. Its almost as if you can feel every nerve in your body humming with unused energy, The problem is that while your under a manic state, you think you can do way more than you can. You spend more money than what you actually have to spend, you take on projects that you would't have ever considered before. You are in a sense, juiced up with power. This power makes you feel as if the sky is the limit. You can do anything. Its a very dangerous state to be in. Dangerous but exhilerating. There is nothing else like it in the world.
Part of Bipolar is having to deal with a barage of emotions that sometimes can't seperate themselves from one another. Its hard to be happy, sad, mad, energized and furious all at the same time. There are some days when I wake up and I'm full of energy and ready to go and before lunchtime arrives I'm a crying mess on the couch....And do you know what I'm sad about? Absolutley not a damn thing. I'm just crying and feel such an overwhelming since of sadness that its hard to breathe. Its like there is this weight of pressure crushing in on my chest and you dont know what to do to feel better. Its scary for all involved. Its scary for my kids and my husband. Sometimes it even scares friends way. What most dont get is this......Most people with bipolar will hurt themselves way worse than they would ever hurt someone they care about. We are the best at self mutilation. This doesnt just mean hurting ourselves in physical ways. We do it one better. We hurt ourselves emotionally as well. I will belittle myself for all of my short comings. I feel like a complete failure somedays and I don't cut myself a break. I truly believe that my loved ones derserve someone better than me. Someone who can get up everyday and play all day long. Someone who can do everything right without the expense of all the costly doctor appointments and prescriptions. We generally are happy torturing ourselves. It is a rare occurance these days that someone other than myself has to pay for my shortfalls. When I feel overwhelmed I take the Xanax. When I go too many days without sleep I take the sedatives. I take the mood-stabilizers everyday (despite what they are doing to my body), I take the anti-depressants, and I follow what my doctor recommends as best as I can. Do I like living this way? No, but there isn't really a choice. All I hope for is that one day life will be easier. People too often take for granted the things that they have in life.... I don't because I know that every second counts. Every minute of everyday counts. Because some days I'm going to fail and fail badly. Im not going to be able to drag my butt out of bed no matter how much I want to, or I'm not going to be able to sleep for days on end and that is almost as bad. Every second that Im feeling ok enough that I can force myself to do the things that my loved one need me to do, I do them. No matter how hard it gets.....I will always at least try for them and hope that its enough. Failure seems to go hand and hand with this disorder. We have to take our victories when we can and make the most out of the craziness that happens in our minds.
The Beginning
I'm going to try to explain how this disorder affects me and my family. I will do my best to explain in such a way that you can get a decent understanding of what its like to live with this disorder. I have never before really tried to explain what its really like. I have lived in fear of what people might think about me if they really knew what it was like to be me. If anyone knew what kind of things happen in my head. Being bipolar is one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me and that is saying alot given my childhooh. I guess I better start from the beiginning and see if I can articulate how it all started.
When I was 14 years old I was sent to Rivendale Medical Center in Bowling Green, Kentucky. My parents had me sent there due to the violent nature of my temper. Thet diagnosed me with Type II bipolar disorder. I was placed on a drug called depakote. After 3 weeks of therapy I was sent home. The medication made me very forgetful and removed most all my emotions. I went from feeling too much to not caring at all. I stopped taking the medications. I believed that there wasn't anything really wrong with me. I believed that because of my home life, that I was justifyably angry. My house was not a peaceful house. My parents were both alcoholics. My mother had bipolar disorder as well as a whole list of other mental heath problems. My father was an abusive husband and father. My parents fought all the time. My father would get drunk and beat my mother, my sisters, and myself. My mom wasnt completely blameless either. She would sometimes start fights with my father. She would be the violant instigator. I tried my best to protect my sisters as best as I could. If I knew that they were about to get a beating, then I would do something stupid; such as throwing something at whichever parent was about to deliver the beating. This was enought that usually, not always, they would redirect their anger at me. After years of abuse, I finally hit abreaking point and I fought back. My father threw me down the stairs to our basement and I picked up thebaseball bat at the end of the stairs and when he came down to finish the beating I gave him a beating myself. That is what laned me in Rivendale to begin with.
After stopping the depakote, I picked up a nasty way of dealing with my anger. I started cutting myself. When I would feel so angry that I felt like I was going to explode, I would picl a spot on my body, usually my legs, and I would carve pictures or words into my body. Id use knives, safety pins, sewing needles, pencils, whatever I could find that was sharp. This same year I attempted suicide via all the medicines I could find in the medicine cabinet. It didnt work. My best friend found me and an ambulance wascalled. At the hospital I fought the doctors and nurses who tried to pump my stomach. At this point I had no will to live. The finally tied me down and of course pumped my stomach. For any of you who dont know how this is done, I will explain. They start by placing a tube up your nose and run down your throught into your stomach and you are filled with charchol. Thats right people....Charchol. Not a pleasant experience. When Im released from the hospital I sent directly to a new place called the Sewell Center in Jackson, Kentucky. I refused all meds. I refused to talk to the therapist. Eventually they let me go home under the care of Comp Care located in Campton, Ky. Therapy once a month and group therapy once amonth.
My home life doesnt improve and I eventually have enough again and I skip school and go to the DHS and show them the bruises and they place me in foster care. My worst fears are realized. Who is going to protect my sisters if Im not there? How can this be? They take me but leave my sisters with those monsters? I panic......I dont know what to do. My case worker finally calms me down by telling me that they will have people out to check on them and if they step out of line then they would be removed as well. Foster care is not always a good thing. Your placed from one home to the next like yesturdays newspapers. We are the unwanted. The damaged goods of others. I was lost. I had no one. My sisters were with my parents and I had a huge chip on my shoulder. I got into fights, used drugs, ran away, and generally did anything I could think of to lash out.
These were the early days of my disorder. To sum it up I eventually met my husband and in order to be able to marry him, I told the judge that I lied about everything, and my parents signed the papers so they could be done with me and wouldnt have to go to court anymore. It was a rough road. I refused to acknowledge taht I had a problem. I was still convinced that it was all my parents fault. I would learn in a very hard way that denial is the easy part. Accepting that I has a problem would be the hardest part and I would do untold damage in the process of this discovery.
Well thats enough for tonight. Reliving my past is a hard thing to do and I have told so very few people about it in my life. I am told that by having this Blog, it may help me deal with my past in a positive way that may help others as well, so thats what Im doing.
When I was 14 years old I was sent to Rivendale Medical Center in Bowling Green, Kentucky. My parents had me sent there due to the violent nature of my temper. Thet diagnosed me with Type II bipolar disorder. I was placed on a drug called depakote. After 3 weeks of therapy I was sent home. The medication made me very forgetful and removed most all my emotions. I went from feeling too much to not caring at all. I stopped taking the medications. I believed that there wasn't anything really wrong with me. I believed that because of my home life, that I was justifyably angry. My house was not a peaceful house. My parents were both alcoholics. My mother had bipolar disorder as well as a whole list of other mental heath problems. My father was an abusive husband and father. My parents fought all the time. My father would get drunk and beat my mother, my sisters, and myself. My mom wasnt completely blameless either. She would sometimes start fights with my father. She would be the violant instigator. I tried my best to protect my sisters as best as I could. If I knew that they were about to get a beating, then I would do something stupid; such as throwing something at whichever parent was about to deliver the beating. This was enought that usually, not always, they would redirect their anger at me. After years of abuse, I finally hit abreaking point and I fought back. My father threw me down the stairs to our basement and I picked up thebaseball bat at the end of the stairs and when he came down to finish the beating I gave him a beating myself. That is what laned me in Rivendale to begin with.
After stopping the depakote, I picked up a nasty way of dealing with my anger. I started cutting myself. When I would feel so angry that I felt like I was going to explode, I would picl a spot on my body, usually my legs, and I would carve pictures or words into my body. Id use knives, safety pins, sewing needles, pencils, whatever I could find that was sharp. This same year I attempted suicide via all the medicines I could find in the medicine cabinet. It didnt work. My best friend found me and an ambulance wascalled. At the hospital I fought the doctors and nurses who tried to pump my stomach. At this point I had no will to live. The finally tied me down and of course pumped my stomach. For any of you who dont know how this is done, I will explain. They start by placing a tube up your nose and run down your throught into your stomach and you are filled with charchol. Thats right people....Charchol. Not a pleasant experience. When Im released from the hospital I sent directly to a new place called the Sewell Center in Jackson, Kentucky. I refused all meds. I refused to talk to the therapist. Eventually they let me go home under the care of Comp Care located in Campton, Ky. Therapy once a month and group therapy once amonth.
My home life doesnt improve and I eventually have enough again and I skip school and go to the DHS and show them the bruises and they place me in foster care. My worst fears are realized. Who is going to protect my sisters if Im not there? How can this be? They take me but leave my sisters with those monsters? I panic......I dont know what to do. My case worker finally calms me down by telling me that they will have people out to check on them and if they step out of line then they would be removed as well. Foster care is not always a good thing. Your placed from one home to the next like yesturdays newspapers. We are the unwanted. The damaged goods of others. I was lost. I had no one. My sisters were with my parents and I had a huge chip on my shoulder. I got into fights, used drugs, ran away, and generally did anything I could think of to lash out.
These were the early days of my disorder. To sum it up I eventually met my husband and in order to be able to marry him, I told the judge that I lied about everything, and my parents signed the papers so they could be done with me and wouldnt have to go to court anymore. It was a rough road. I refused to acknowledge taht I had a problem. I was still convinced that it was all my parents fault. I would learn in a very hard way that denial is the easy part. Accepting that I has a problem would be the hardest part and I would do untold damage in the process of this discovery.
Well thats enough for tonight. Reliving my past is a hard thing to do and I have told so very few people about it in my life. I am told that by having this Blog, it may help me deal with my past in a positive way that may help others as well, so thats what Im doing.
Trial and Error
Many people do not understand what exactly Bipolar is....Half the time I don't even understand what it is and I have it. You can look up the disorder and there isn't alot to be found on it. Research has been minimual at best. The medications that are used to treat the disorder are drugs that were intended for other illnesses; such as seizures. There isn't a specific drug that I have found to use as treatment. I'm told by my doctor that most often bipolar is treated with a combination of mood-stabilzers, anti-depressants, and sometimes anxiety medicines. Although I am being treated for the disorder, no one can seem to tell me what causing this disorder. All I am told is that it has to do with the nuerotransmitters in the brain and the chemical secreted there, such as dopemin. There is just too little research.
My experience so far hasn't been a pleasant one. The side-effects alone on some of the medications is stagering. It's like you have to risk liver failure, heart attack, stroke, kidney failure, diabetes, and even seizures. It makes you wonder whether its all worth it. For me the risk developing a heath problem is better than taking the risk of hurting someone that I love.
I started treatment in November of 2010. I was first placed on a drug called Celex - an anti-depressant- by a doctor who had the audacity to lookme in the eye and tell me that I would need to seek help from a different provider because she " doesnt treat mental patients". People who do not have the disorder sometimes do not understand just how hurtful sterotypes can be. Have a mental disorder is confusing and scary enough without doctors treating us as if we are somehow contagious or dont deserve xare because we have a mental disorder, not a physical ailment.
After a rocky start with the first doctor, I was a little anxious about finding someone who wouldnt trat me as if I was somehow less of a person due to my illness. My husband encouraged me to see another doctor. In December I found a doctor who would treat my illness. He didnt look at me as a freak. He talked to me about my symptoms and started me on 50mg twice daily of a drug called Seroquel- It is used mainly as a treatment to people who suffer from seizures but has been found successful as a mood-stabilizing drug for bipolar patients. He also prescibed me a prescription for Xanax .5mg tablets to take as needed for anxiety. After 2 weeks I had to go back so he could see if I was feeling any better. I was, but still wasnt anywhere near feeling fine. Over the course of my treatment I have been on a number of different prescriptions: Celexa 20mg, 40mg tablets; Seroquel 50mg, 100mg, 150 mg tablets; Seroquel XR 300mg tabs; Xanax .5mg tabs; Restoril 15mg capsules - a sedative-; and most recently Cumbalta 30mg caps, 60mg caps.
As I mentioned some of these drugs can have some serious side-effects. The seroquel caused my thyroid levels to drop and I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. Yet another drug had to be used called synthroid. They gave me the smallest dosage. This appeared to fix my thyroid problems, but I still had a major side effect that I wasnt happy about....Weight gain. The weight gain has been horrible. No matter what is cut from or added to my diet; one thing never changes: The weight continues to climb. So now I have a whole slew of other health problems to worry about. So now it looks as if I will be changing meds yet again. It is very frustrating. But I try to be optimistic. My doctor tells me that it just takes some time to find the right combination of drugs. I hope that he is right.
My experience so far hasn't been a pleasant one. The side-effects alone on some of the medications is stagering. It's like you have to risk liver failure, heart attack, stroke, kidney failure, diabetes, and even seizures. It makes you wonder whether its all worth it. For me the risk developing a heath problem is better than taking the risk of hurting someone that I love.
I started treatment in November of 2010. I was first placed on a drug called Celex - an anti-depressant- by a doctor who had the audacity to lookme in the eye and tell me that I would need to seek help from a different provider because she " doesnt treat mental patients". People who do not have the disorder sometimes do not understand just how hurtful sterotypes can be. Have a mental disorder is confusing and scary enough without doctors treating us as if we are somehow contagious or dont deserve xare because we have a mental disorder, not a physical ailment.
After a rocky start with the first doctor, I was a little anxious about finding someone who wouldnt trat me as if I was somehow less of a person due to my illness. My husband encouraged me to see another doctor. In December I found a doctor who would treat my illness. He didnt look at me as a freak. He talked to me about my symptoms and started me on 50mg twice daily of a drug called Seroquel- It is used mainly as a treatment to people who suffer from seizures but has been found successful as a mood-stabilizing drug for bipolar patients. He also prescibed me a prescription for Xanax .5mg tablets to take as needed for anxiety. After 2 weeks I had to go back so he could see if I was feeling any better. I was, but still wasnt anywhere near feeling fine. Over the course of my treatment I have been on a number of different prescriptions: Celexa 20mg, 40mg tablets; Seroquel 50mg, 100mg, 150 mg tablets; Seroquel XR 300mg tabs; Xanax .5mg tabs; Restoril 15mg capsules - a sedative-; and most recently Cumbalta 30mg caps, 60mg caps.
As I mentioned some of these drugs can have some serious side-effects. The seroquel caused my thyroid levels to drop and I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. Yet another drug had to be used called synthroid. They gave me the smallest dosage. This appeared to fix my thyroid problems, but I still had a major side effect that I wasnt happy about....Weight gain. The weight gain has been horrible. No matter what is cut from or added to my diet; one thing never changes: The weight continues to climb. So now I have a whole slew of other health problems to worry about. So now it looks as if I will be changing meds yet again. It is very frustrating. But I try to be optimistic. My doctor tells me that it just takes some time to find the right combination of drugs. I hope that he is right.
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