6 word mental health memoir

This Tuesday on Mental Health Social Media Chat on Twitter, we all did 6 word descriptions of our struggle with metal health.  I really liked describing some of my struggles with mental health in a short spurt.  I thought that I would list some of the ones I wrote here:

• I don't like my new normal
• only I like the manic me
• this new me is not me
• Trying to like the new me
• my history does not define me
• nothing i do is good enough
• illness is not who i am
• may look strong, but i'm weak
• another day, another day in bed
• i present better than i am
• there is so much of my illness i don't let ppl see
• I'm alone in real life (by @beckami)

Trying to keep it together while dealing w Seroquel & Weight Gain

I've written  before about the side effects of some of the drugs that I take and especially the dreaded Seroquel.  Recently it has become too much.  I can't seem to get it under control.

I have been monitoring how much I have been eating with Weight Watchers, where I successfully have been gaining weight nearly every week.  I have recently returned to Pilate's, 5 times a week, after not feeling like doing any physical activity at all, other than walking too and from work.  The drugs that I take make lethargy a huge reality.  They help me sleep, but stay in my system, suppressing mania through out the day, until I take them again at night.

I tried on all my jeans last night and none of them fit except the jeans that I recently bought by accident that were too big. Fucking fantastic. I was in tears.  The dress that I was so excited to wear too my sisters wedding looks terrible.  I just feel miserable.  I look awful.  I feel awful.

When I started taking all these mental health drugs I was aware that one of the side effects was weight gain and I was prepared for some weight gain, but not like this.  I believe and understand that I have to take them, but I am starting to resent every night when I drop two little white pills on my tongue.

I have never been skinny.  My weight had been high but steady for a number of years and I was fine with that.  I was comfortable at my weight and was ok not being skinny.  I dressed to suit my size and had people who found me attractive.  Now I am fatter and uglier and just feel disgusting.  It makes taking the drugs so much harder.  It is a battle everyday.

One of the worst things is that I don't know when it will stop.  Is the weight gain going to keep going and going as long as I keep taking these drugs???  Am I going to be 700 pounds one day and someone is going to have to remove me from my apartment with a fork lift??  Is the trajectory that I am just going to get fatter and fatter??  No one can answer me.

For now I am going to keep taking the Seroquel, keep taking the other drugs, keep going to Weight Watchers, keep going to Pilate's, keep walking to work and keep hoping that it gets better everyday, it's all I can do.

The abyss of loneliness

courtesy of http://www.someecards.com/



This weekend, it became evidently clear again that I am alone and it sucks.

When receiving some bad family news on Friday over champagne, #londonsis had her fiance and #torontosis had her husband and baby, to hold on too, as we absorbed the information that we were being told.  I had no one.  No one to get home and cry to on the sofa, to cuddle up to in their arms just for some comfort, to hold their hand so that i didn't feel like I was going to fall off the deep end of the ocean into an abyss of fear, sadness and depression.  All of my emotions were mine alone, to process and manage the feelings on my own.  It was horrible.  It was even more horrible because I have really secluded myself from any friends that I had, and don't feel that I'm able to reach out to them now when I am back in crisis.

I so rarely feel like being single is awful.  I do single well.  I am confident in doing things on my own and I am usually perfectly OK with it.  Except that I know that this life is meant to be shared with another human being and that I do not want to be on my own forever.  On Friday and throughout the weekend, I was reminded that it is truly awful going through this life on one's own and this is not the life that I want to lead. 

But I am a lot to take on.  I know that the hope of finding a partner is even smaller given my mental illness.  Before I was sick and diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, I was just the girl with Migraines that battles chronic depression, but was still fun when needed.  Now I am the girl who is crazy, needs 10 pills a day to keep some form of sanity and has gained another 25 pounds because of the drugs that I am taking.  What man/boy wants to take that on? Not very many.

I rarely find men attractive anymore.  I think that it is a defence mechanism.  Don't worry, if you don't find anyone attractive, you will never put yourself out there, you will never get rejected, you will never have to face the fact that you are, as you believed, a lot to take on, too much for most people.  When I do find someone attractive, I am so eager for them to like me that I am destine to be over eager on all angles.  I am a relationship mess.  Sabotaging my own happiness, before it has a second to establish itself.

So here I am.  Me.  Myself.  I.  Alone. I wish I could change it, but apparently this is not going to be easy.  I sit at my desk, tears running down my cheeks, thinking that I may be stuck in this abyss of loneliness forever.

From Life of the Party to Get a Life

A couple of weeks ago, I was asked to take part in a radio show and discuss the impact of mental illness on my social life.  That radio podcast as well as a lovely blog post written by my friend Amy can be found here: From Life of the Party to Get a Life

I am glad that I did it and proud that I spent the time exposing this very difficult aspect of mental illness.  I am still a recluse, but I am working towards not being so isolating.  I try and book time with friends and this is helping a bit.  All in all, this is a long lonely path that I am on, and that is terrifying.

Raw & Honest Take on Relationships & Mental Health-An Interview

I had the wonderful and rare experience tonight of being interviewed on "Blog Radio" for HealthyPlace Radio.  It was a provocative and interesting experience.  I was very nervous to have a conversation about how mental illness has affected my social life, but I just listened to the 15 minute interview and I am quite proud of it.  It is a true, raw, honest accounting of how I feel.  I am surprised at how negative and sad it is, but then I realize that the situation is depressing.  The interviewer was great.  He asked some great questions.  One of the best was: "Where do you see yourself in 5 years?"  I haven't thought about it and the scariest part of it is, if I don't change my path it won't be much different from where I am now.  

I have attached the interview below if you would like to listen to it.  I would be interested to know what you think and if you feel the same way.  Please let me know.

Listen to internet radio with HealthyPlace Radio on 

Blog Talk Radio

Exposing my broken brain on the radio

This evening I am exposing myself and my broken brain once again, but this time on the radio.  I have been asked to be interviewed by the HealthyPlace Radio Show.  At first I was very hesitant to open up myself up to a radio interview and discuss my mental health; it is very raw, there is no do-overs, what I say is what you get, I had no idea what the topic would be, I was nervous about hearing my own voice talking about the hardships of mental illness...

My twitter friend, Amy, asked me to do the interview a month ago.  It took me that long to say yes.  I really had to think about it.  When I agreed to it, we talked about potential topics, everything from stress and its impact on bipolar, social life and the affect of mental illness on it, drugs and their side effects, working and bipolar..... Amy decided that i will be discussing how social relationships are affected by living with Bipolar 2 and social anxiety.

I have been thinking a lot about the topic and realize that what is most prevalent is that not only are my relationships affected by my mental illness, but they have pretty much disappeared because of my mental illness.  I am trying to think of why? what did I do to make that happen? how i am adapting to the new reality?  I expect to talk about all of that this evening.

Anyway I can be listened to here at 7pm Central 8pm Eastern if you care to join me.  I'm nervous, so wish me luck.

Law & Order:Criminal Intent deals with Mental Health

I have always found that there is one TV show that deals with Mental Health relatively well and that is Law & Order: Criminal Intent, particularly the character Detective Robert Goren played by Vincent d'Onofrio.  Now it is widely known that I have a 'made for tv' crush on that particular character, but what has really caught my attention recently is his time spent in therapy.   In the show they portray his mother as a schizophrenic and the Detective deals with depression/anger issues and the fears of the  being alone/not able to manage a relationship.

Today I was watching a taped episode and at the end of the hour, Detective Goren meets with his therapist.  The clip above is perfect and I feel like I could be in his chair, asking the same questions of my therapist "Am I capable of a relationship?? A family?"  The therapist's response is classic therapy "Well, we could work towards that goal."  I'm sorry, but not only is that an infuriating response, but WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT MEAN????  How does that help?  It does not advance the therapy session at all.  It is one of those moments in any type of therapist, patient relationships where you just want to scream at the top of your lungs.  I am glad I was able to capture it, even badly with my iPhone.  I am also glad that a tv show is demonstrating some of the frustrations of mental health in an honest way.

Mental Health Month Blog Party

So today is Blogging for Mental Health day and here I am, blogging and thinking about mental health, not only mine but mental health in general.  I have been thinking lately that if I believed in destiny or fate than I would think that I was going through the struggle of Bipolar Disorder and Chronic Depression for some greater good.  But I do not believe in either of those things.

I do think that part of my management of my own Mental Illness (I don't believe in recovery, if you've read my blog you'll know that I am all about the management of my Mental Health) is to talk about it with others.  I have found outlets through twitter, my blog, I have a bunch of people that I "mentor" or help on with their own mental health struggles,support groups, by doing this I have been able others, but also my self.  I've all of a sudden become an advocate for the mentally ill.  I am slowly but surely helping to end stigma with those around me, my friends, colleagues and online community.  I have, without my own permission, become a role model for others.  I work hard and I try and manage my own illness with dignity, some anger, the right drugs, frustration, exercise, sleep and always some tears.

Today I join others in this fight of mental illness.  Each of us, in our own way, talking, writing, somehow finding strength through our illnesses to find a voice.  These voices loud, quiet, painful, mad, annoyed, content, frustrated..... all joining together to speak for those that don't have a voice or haven't found the strength to speak yet, but more importantly to end the stigma of mental health, provide strength for others, to tell others about our experiences so that hopefully they will know they are not alone.

I am so proud to be one of the ones that is fighting this fight.  I vow to continue to find the strength, somewhere/somehow, to speak for those that cannot speak for themselves about mental illness/health, if not for them, then for myself.

Battling the dark room of depression

I wonder sometimes about how much I can take on before I break? Before i find myself unable to function again?  Before I become hypomanic again?  Before I am so depressed that I cannot get out of bed for days?  Where is the line and how much can I push it until it gives way.again?

I wonder if these are thoughts that other people who suffer from bipolar illness/chronic depression feel?  I think that on some level I have lived with this fear since I was 16 years old, when I first recognized that walking around in a fog of sadness and hopelessness was not normal.

Trying to stay away from that place that is cold and dark and sad and lonely and evil and where no hope exists is exhausting.  It's a battle everyday.  That place is constantly there in the back of my thoughts, hanging out like a secret room waiting for me to visit.  I take antidepressants/drugs, I go to therapy, I try and look after myself, I do Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, I go to support groups..... all of this is bolting the door to that cold, dark place closed.

Still, the darkness creeps out from under the door and it is a tempting mistress.  I know what life is like in that room.  I know that there is some comfort in the dark sadness.  I can hide there as I have before, and not have to struggle against it's constant pull.  Maybe I am more comfortable in sadness than in happiness?  

Regardless, today I choose the battle to fight against the dark and sadness.  I choose to give it 110% of my efforts to stay out of that room, away from that mistress, although it firmly has a hold on me these days.  I will try with everything that I have to stay on this side of the line.  I think its better here.

Perscription for Living

I love the Mood Disorders Association of Ontario.  They are a wonderful organization that does wonderful work.  I saw this fantastic perscription pad on the table last week when I was there for my support group meeting and loved it.  You can check out the good work that they do here.

Sex, Dating and Relationships at a support group

Last Thursday I spent 2 hours in a group therapy session with 9 other woman, all of us have some level of crazy - bipolar, severe depression, anxiety - of course we don't call it crazy, we say "living with Bipolar Disorder/depression/social anxiety etc".  Anyway every week tends to  have its own flavour.  Some weeks everyone just talks about what is going on in their own lives, other days we help someone who needs to be more social and then all of a sudden we are all admitting that we are hermits.  Last week we talked about sex, dating and relationships.  Now before I go any further, I should let you know that many of these women I see every week and have been going to for months, some of them for years, so we tend to know each other well.

So how did the topic of "Sex, Dating and Relationships" come up?  It was all really very innocent.  One of the woman asked if anyone would be offended if we talked about sex and the flood gates opened.  She in particular wanted to talk about the fact that she had no sex drive.  The drugs, her mood and the weather had sucked all thoughts of sex out of her.  So many people agreed and sympathized.  The discussion lead to the fact that drugs have taken so much from so many of us and feeling attractive (the weight gain of some of the drugs being only one part of feeling so unattractive even to ourselves) and having a sex drive is just one more thing.  The next woman to speak, spoke about being manic and not getting enough sex.  We all laughed at the fact that mental illness certainly led so many of us on different paths and polar opposites of the spectrum.

When it came my time to speak, I was amazed at how open I was with this group of woman about the pain of being lonely, and the challenges that mental illness brings to bear on being social, dating and relationships.  I have avoided socializing for months (ok, maybe it is now over a year, close to two), let alone dating.  I have a couple of male friends who I see occasionally, but we do not date.  I am just too closed emotionally to date.  The idea is slightly terrifying.  I fear the rejection might throw me over an edge that I don`t wish to go over.  Closed emotionally might not be the best description, but emotionally fragile might be better.  This of course does nothing for the feelings of being lonely.  I also believe that the longer that I am anti-social, the lonelier I get, the scarier it becomes to be social, the more anti-social I become, the lonelier I get......and the circle goes on and on and grows bigger and bigger.

I was not surprised to hear that I was not the only one.  So many of the women in the group were in the same boat.  I was at this point crying.  I had opened a part of my emotional self to these women that was very sensitive and very raw.  It is not easy to admit that you are very lonely and that you are in this evil cycle.

I also admitted that part of the challenge was that I had not found anyone attractive in ages.  It has been a very long time that I have had butterflies in my stomach when a boy/man is around that I like.  I wonder if my mind has done this on purpose so that I will not be distracted from getting better?  I have in recent months found some people attractive (previous posts have expressed this - baby fluttering butterflies) and I think that this might be a good sign that I am ready to begin to be more social, still beyond terrified though, so who knows.

What was amazing is that, when I admitted this, so many of the women then started to prop me up.  They helped to build my self esteem.  I was told that I was worthy of love.  I was a wonderful person.  That I was supporting this group of women every Thursday afternoon, no matter how sick I was, rather than them supporting me.  That at some point, someone fabulous would notice this.  Who knew that I would find a number of cheerleaders in this group of crazy ladies???

By the end of the session we had covered the difficulties of loneliness, drugs and sex drive, bipolar mania and sex, dating and mental health, mental health and discloser while dating, casual relationships and their impact on our mental health, long term relationships and mental health, "am I worthy of love, even with our mental illnesses??", letting go of toxic relationships.......

Who knew that this support group would end up being so focused on Sex, Dating and Relationships, but it was needed.  I needed the support of the group to know that I was not alone.  I also needed to know that it was OK to put myself out there and try.  Everyone faces rejection and I would be OK on the other side, I just had to go for it.  Easier said than done, I say.  Maybe after this Thursday, I will have a little more courage and a little more cheerleading to push me to go and find someone who makes butterflies fly in my stomach...

A reminder of why I write this little blog

There are times when I wonder why I write.  I am not a great writer, I was never seen in my family as the writer. #torontosis was always the one that had the "knack for writing".  I was the one that made do with scrawling a few lines in a notebook in creative writing class and hoping that it somehow related to the theme assigned.  But here I am writing a lot.

I do know that writing has become therapeutic.  I go to a lot of therapy in different forms.  I see a psychiatrist, a Cognitive Behavioral Therapist, a psychotherapist, a regular therapist and I go to a ton of support groups, on top of all that I write.  It fits in as one of these therapists in its own way and quite frankly is a hell of a lot cheaper.  I've never been able to keep a diary, but for some reason writing a blog is different.  It helps me to talk about things in an open forum that makes me accountable to a larger community.  But I still wonder if anyone reads what I write or even cares.  I find the therapeutic results that I get, do not require anyone read what I write, and i find it interesting that anyone would even care.

Today I received a direct message on twitter from a woman, who reminded me that my writing has started to matter for more than just me.  Apparently she has started to share my blog with her "Parent's of Adult Children with Mental Illness" at the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health.  I am now on one of their recommended reading lists, apparently as a good source for parents. I have rarely felt so good about something that I am doing, and am so proud that I am happy to be helping this wonderful support group of parents.

Over the last year, I had hope that my label of a "person with a mental illness" had started to changed to a "person with at metal illness advocating for herself and those who can't, while educating those around her".  I am not a person who believes in things happening for a reason, but I do believe that I have to find some part of this illness that I can build on.  That is the role of advocate, educator, peer supporter, and woman successful living with rapid cycling bipolar disorder and social anxiety.  I think that this blog has become a key tool in that mission.  Here I can address all of those roles, and advance my mission on all of them, while still venting, finding therapy and just writing what I need to write to make it to tomorrow.

So readers, thank you for taking the time to read some of my thoughts.  Please know that I appreciate it and you are part of my coping with a mental illness.  I promise to write open and honestly about myself, mental health and the ups and downs, rants and raves of a self proclaimed princess.

Loneliness - the secret friend of Mental Illness

I have written recently about friendships and the work that I have been, or need to do on the friendships that I have or had.  As I have been looking at my own life I realize that I am desperately lonely and I am not the only one.  Many of the people that I interact with who are mentally ill or dealing with mental health  issues are also lonely, both for friendships and intimate relationships.  I've been thinking a lot about the reasons that all of these wonderful people are not surrounded by caring and fabulous friends and lovers and I realize that many times we do it to ourselves.  3 of a number of theories that I have:

• The search for solitude - The vicious circle of mental illness and loneliness begins with the desire to be alone and alienate oneself from everyone else.  To be alone. To not burden family or friends with the illness or sadness.  To not e-mail, see, talk to or interact with even the closest of friends.  Unless your friends understand mental illness well, it is difficult for them to understand that "fall off the face of the earth".  I am finding that it is also difficult to rebuild these relationships.  No matter how sick you are or were, mental health is not easily explained.  I was able to e-mail, speak on the phone, go for coffee, walk to a movie etc. but I could not because I was ill, is a hard thing to understand, even for me and I am the one with the mental illness.
• Sabotaging current relationships - I have single handedly ruined a number of relationships, due in part to my mental illness and my personality.  I was very angry before I understood that I was bipolar, and I had medication that worked and helped me to be more level headed.  My father used to say that I "was so controlling and domineering in relationships, it was a wonder they continued to be my friends".  My sister in Toronto recently told me that I seem much less angry which is a great thing.  Beyond anger, the truth in the past, has been a very difficult thing for me.  I think I feel that perhaps people really aren't going to like the real me.  Surprisingly, after taking part in a number of Bipolar support groups and speaking to a number of people to have mental illnesses, I am not the only one who struggles with this.  I do not blame my un-integritous life as being because of my mental illness, but I do know that it has impacted some of my relationships.  I am working everyday on leading a life of integrity. 
• Challenges of Loving a Crazy Person -"I can barely stand to spend time with myself, how can I expect others to spend time with me" tends to be a common sentiment for me these days.  I wonder how anyone is going to be willing to take this on, this whole mess of a person.  Telling someone that you are mentally ill is not exactly an endearing trait.  That you are going to be mentally ill for the rest of your life does not help either.  I am a lot to take on.  Between the bipolar manic ups and chronic depression downs, the medication that makes me gain weight, not be myself, throws my sex drive up and down, makes my creativity disappear and ohh just in case that isn't fun enough I can be manic and depressed all in the span of 12 hours, just so that you can stay entertained.  I can understand how I might be lonely forever, can't you?

I know that there are other reasons and theories for loneliness, many of them that I have been bantering around, but I think that these three are a good start.  Being lonely both on a friendship and an intimate level is a horrible feeling.  It is something that sits with you like an anchor.  It plays into depression and mental illness like a drug forcing it to grow and flourish.  The feeling is awful and I am not sure how to make it better, but reaching out to friends bit by bit, will hopefully help.  

Some days I feel like I will be alone forever, I know that this is a possibility and it brings tears to my eyes.  Other days I hope that I will find people who love me, sickness and all.  Realistically, I just hope to feel less lonely than I do today, and to be able to tell people who are lonely like me, it get's better, I promise.

"How are you?" 3 simple words

The last year has been brutal for both mental health wise and physically.  I felt like I am spending everyday at doctors or feeling like I am going crazy, not to mention experimenting with meds and the turmoil that that causes.  It has been hell. 

What has suffered immensely through this time are the personal relationships that I have and most poignantly the ones where I have held the majority of the relationship.  I have felt like doing nothing.  I do not call people, e-mail people, engage with anyone anymore.  The true friends of mine have come to the surface and amazed me.  They are not mad that I do not call or interact very much, and they continually seek out opportunities to interact with me, even though I have been a horrible friend.  Some of these friends are new and have just come into my life, but accept my shortcomings and my mental illness, and still like me for who i am.

Where I am the most disappointed in human nature is how incapable even the closest friends are to ask me "How are you?"  I wonder if it is because they are sick of hearing the response of "Not great".  I chalk up some of my friends as finding the stigma of Mental Illness too much for them to handle.  Some of them do not know that I have been ill and must think that I just have refused to call and interact because of something they did.  Oh how i dread to think how many of these people just think I am a total bitch.  Others have moved on to having a gaggle of children that occupy their time.  Maybe I have just been sick for too long, people tend to forget, don't they???  The excuses that I have come up with in my head are endless for them not having the ability to type or say three words "How are you?"

Maybe I am out of the ordinary when i think that I have a list of people who are going through a tough time and I make sure to write or tweet once every week or two to check in on how their mother who lost her job is?, brother who is depressed is?, father who has cancer is doing?, or how they are feeling?  It boggles my mind that on this list, rarely has one of them asked me the infamous "How are you?".

I am going to continue asking them how they are doing.  I will bite my tongue and curl up my fingers to not say/type a snarky response like "just in case you were wondering, I am fine/not well/sad/crazy".  I will not bring up how much I crave for one of them to ask me how i am just as I have made the time for them.

Maybe I expect too much from humanity.  I expect friends to care how I am doing, just as I care about them.  Maybe I have a huge ego to think that friends should care enough to ask.  Those 3 little words encompass the world of thoughtfulness, caring and friendship.  It isn't that I expect a check in every week, but sometimes it would be nice to hear.

By the by, "Today I am having a rough day, but you asking how I am doing has improved my day already."

Thoughts on "My thoughts of suicide"

If you are depressed, bipolar, mentally ill, unstable or see a therapist or psychiatrist, it is inevitable that you will be asked how often or if you think of suicide?  Do you think about harming yourself? How often? If you happen to answer yes to any or all of these questions, the ears of the person asking them goes right up and you are instantly labelled "high risk". 

What I have found interesting is that my mind often wanders to thoughts of suicide and death although I do not plan to kill/harm myself.  I know that I am not the only one who is struggling with mental illness who feels the same way.  A friend of mine and I say that "even though I think of harming/killing myself I do not think of acting on those thoughts".  Two very different things.

The thoughts pop up at the oddest of times.  Yesterday I was getting ready to have a bath and I thought "could take my laptop into the tub?"  Next thing you know I was thinking about being electrocuted in the tub and who would find me and clean me up.  Would it leave a big mess? Would this be an easy way to die? Would a hair dryer be more effective than my laptop? Probably, but way more predictable in a tragic movie star kind of way.  I also know that just taking a handful of the mood stabilizers that I have, would do me in much more effectively and easily.  Just crawl into bed and be done with it after falling asleep.

Now don't worry, none of these thoughts meant that I was going to kill myself, or even take my laptop into the tub with me, but they did mean that I thought about death and the end of dealing with all this shit.  It also means that on some level I always have an escape plan if it just becomes too much.  It also means that I am very aware of how dumb and ridiculous those ideas are.  Even recognizing the fact that these thoughts are dangerous and needing to deal with them is important.

I wonder if people who do not deal with depression, bipolar disorder, mental illness etc. think about suicide and self-harm the way that I do?  Do they know that most suicides by men and women are performed by firearms and the second most popular way is hanging for men and poisoning for women (including over dose)? Do they wonder who would clean their apartments if they killed themselves?  Do they have the thoughts always lingering in the background? Not to act out on, but to remind me that I am vulnerable to these thoughts and I need to listen to them and control them.

For now I am going to keep fighting the good fight, monitoring my thoughts and trying not to throw my Psych Doctor off the ledge by bringing this up at our next session.  She might just commit me to the local psych ward.....

If you are having thoughts of suicide, are feeling vulnerable and/or in crisis please seek help either through a medical professional, your local emergency room, mental health facility or Suicide Crisis Hotline.  Some Suicide Crisis Hotline resources are:

• A list of Canada Suicide and Crisis Hotlines can be found here
• The Support Network (Canadian)
• Toll Free Suicide Hotlines in the USA
• Find an International Suicide HelpLine

For the first time: A desire not to take my meds

I have read about and often hear about people who suffer from "Bipolar Disorder" and other mental illnesses (primarily schizophrenia) not wanting to take their meds and the problems that it causes.  Until yesterday, not one day of the last 10+ years that I have taken drugs to help with mental illness, be it depression or bipolar disorder, have i ever contemplated not taking my meds religiously.  Yesterday was different and it was terrifying....

I take a ton of meds.  9 pills daily just to make it through the day and deal with proactive care of migraines and dealing with depression/bipolar disorder/social anxiety.  I also have 10+ prescriptions for reactive treatments for migraines and anxiety/panic attacks.  I feel on most days when I look in my medicine bags (I keep them in large freezer size Ziploc) that I am an 80 year old grandmother dealing with heart disease!

For some reason, yesterday, as I stared at the pile of pills that I had to take in the morning, I just did not want to.  I did not want to pull one pill out of all of the containers, each one reminding me of how un-normal I am, how fucked up my brain is, how sick I am  I did not want to take the 10 minutes it takes to swallow all of the pills in the morning so that I don't throw up.  I did not want to deal with the side effects.  I just for one day, DID NOT WANT TO.

I have come to hate the side effects on one level and accept them on another.  The side effects range from my needing to sleep 12 hours a night, being incredibly slow (both physically and mentally), housing a dumb blond in my head that makes me very stupid, craving carbs 24 hours a day, losing confidence in all that i do, gaining weight ......  I understand that I need to take the drugs so I accept them, but I can still not like the "side effect me".  I know on a very basic level that the "side effect me" disappears when I don't take my drugs.  Wouldn't it be nice to just get rid of all of those things, even for a day?

From the research that I have done, and the understanding that I have of mental illness, the other reason that so many people go off of their meds is that they "feel well" and believe that they don't need their meds anymore to be well.  This is not me.  I firmly believe that I will always need drugs to function.  As someone who has a mental illness, I know that as someone with bipolar disorder I have a chemical imbalance in my head and I need the drugs to help balance that out.  I also know that they are not the "golden ticket" of feeling better, but are the most important tool in my treasure chest of leading a well adjusted, healthy life.

Yesterday, I did not take my meds.  Instead, this morning I woke up and I had to have a very stern talk with myself about what I needed to do to be a healthy person.  That healthy person needs to take all of her drugs, not just the ones she wants, or when she wants to.  I took them all this morning and I will take them all tomorrow, and the day after that.  I sense that this is going to be an ongoing battle of my rational self versus the mentally ill voice in my head, who just does not want to be stupid, slow, fat and hindered by side effects anymore, but would prefer to be manic, funny, witty, quick and her old self again....the one with out all the drugs.

Learning the effects of Stress on managing my Bipolar Disorder

I have been away for 5 weeks now. Away from my life in Toronto, my family, my friends, my therapists, my doctors, away from everything. Essentially away from stress. What I have come to understand is that the lack of stress in my life has meant that I have felt better. I have slept better. I have been more calm. I have had less anxiety. I have been happier. As the time ticks down to my return to Toronto, I am starting to freak out. My mood is a wonky. I am depressed again. I am not sleeping. I am anxious. I am a mess
A week ago I couldn’t figure out what was happening. I started to not want to leave the apartment. I did not want to go out and meet new people without the security of someone else. I started to eat more. I was scared to go out in Buenos Aires on my own, unless I knew exactly where I was going and had been there before. I was sad all the time. For the first time in a while I was weepy. I found myself crying at an episode of “Criminal Minds” on tv. I was at a loss for what was happening. My drugs were the same. The same amount of mood altering and anti depressant drugs that I had been taking for the last few months cursing through my veins, so WTF???
Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was coming home soon. My body was beginning the process of acquiring and processing stress again. The mitigating factor in this whole thing, the thing that changed, that made my mood, my body, my mind change, was the thought of stress when I went home and then build up of stress to that return.
This is not a good result of a test for my big return in January to work and to “real life”. I am supposed to get a job, be better, be a “normal” member of society, return to be an active friend in the relationships that I have let fall this year, be a member of my family who is happy and active in that unit and please do that all with a smile, I’ve had a year off, haven’t I???

I know that there are a lot of “should’s” in that paragraph, but that is how I feel. It is my truth. It is what I feel the expectations are for me and they are slowly making me sick again.

Bipolar Disorder Monster taking one more thing - Babies

As anyone who has read my blog, follows me on Twitter, knows me in person or knows anyone of my family or friends, knows that I have an instant connection to children.  I have since I was a child myself.  The 4 yr old that would "babysit" the babies in the room, the one girl/woman that was always asking to hold the babies when they were/are around and someone who has always wanted more than anything to be a mother.  One of my closest friends RT used to call me MIT "Mother in Training" in highschool, a clear indication of what was to come for me, or so I thought.

So here I am.  34 yrs old.  Single.  Sick.  Diagnosed bipolar aka crazy.  Unemployed.  All forcing a re-evaluation on life.  One think that this year has taught me is that there is likely no way that I will be able to have a child on my own.  I always said that if I was 35 and alone, I would have a baby on my own.  It is not, and has never been the ideal option, but it was a viable option.  I was a responsible and good person who could have managed a child on my own.  I have friends who have had babies on their own.  It was not easy, but they have managed and are so thankful for the experience.  They did not plan their lives in the hopes of doing it on their own, but they come to an age where they had no one in their lives and realized it was a now or never time for having a baby.  Something they always wanted, much like myself. 

I believe and think that I am know not able to handle the responsibility and the pressure of a child on my own while managing a bipolar disorder.  The stress and responsibility will likely be too much for me to handle on my own while managing my disease and not doing harm to myself and others.

I have also read and learnt that many mental health illnesses including bipolar disorder are passed down from generation to generation.  I wonder if past generations of my family had experience with mental illness?  I know that there has been some talk of relitves being "crazy" or having addictions, both signs of mental health issues.  Do I want to pass down this disease to another generation??  Is it fair to do that??  Would I want anyone to go through this??  I know that some of my friends who are dealing with bipolar disorder have decided that they are not having children because of the fact that they risk passing it down to the next generation.  What to do?  What to do?

I realize that this declaration of my not being able to have a child on my own means that I will only have to find someone stable enough to want to have a child with me.  Well it sounds easy enough, but who wants to be with the person who is certifably crazy, unemployed, fat, did I mention crazy???  And that that person will want to put at risk their offspring with my genetic pool of Russian Roulette for mental illness.  I had a hard enough time finding men who wanted to date me when i wasn't crazy.

Maybe this is the universes way of telling me that the one thing that I want more than anything is something that I just won't be good at, or can't handle - being a mother.   Goodness knows that apparently if you are a teenager you can have a baby, but not if you are me.  Not if you have played by the rules, been safe, waited until you tried to find someone so that you could make a stable family, with a mother and a father who are good role models.  Nope, I had to get sick and everything had to fall apart.  Yet another thing that the bipolar disorder monster has robbed me off.  This stupid, infuriating disease has taken so much and now it looks like it is taking the one thing that I want more than anything, a child.