Ten bucks to the first person who gets that remarkably loose reference. I think I have a monopoly board somewhere, though it might be the Star Wars version. I hope Imperial dollars will suffice.
This is something that I had never really considered and was hesitant to do, but I realize now that it's important and healthy for me to reevaluate my friends and relationships specifically, not just life in its big picture. Who has been sticking by my side through the years? Who is willing to continue throughout my rebuilding? Who seems to be around only when the times are good? Who vents, but then never stands by when I need to do the same? The list of questions to ask is extensive. Actually, I feel badly about the latter example, because I'm guilty of violating it. One thing I've never been accused of being, however, is a poor listener. That is, if you can reach me. If you can't, I'm having problems and probably in the hospital....... not something I'm proud of, but necessary. Not only that, I might call or e-mail you twenty times in a week if I'm hypomanic, then zero times for a month if I'm depressed. Sigh.
Back to friends and relationships (and I include family in this), some incredibly caring people reached out to me when they found out what was going on. Others bit me in the ass, one in particular. The ones who cared did so in ways that may seem minor to them, but are huge to me. Whether it be a text message, Facebook e-mail, comment on a post... they all had the same underlying conveyance - I'm here for ya, buddy. I was surprised with a couple of visitors while on MHU, as well. When I heard that I had my first visitor, I almost broke my nose tripping over a chair trying to get to him. These are things they didn't have to do.... they just did and it made a world of difference to my anxiety level on those days. And for you friends who have sent me Facebook shout-outs over the last, astoundingly difficult year - THANK YOU. I may not always respond or I might be quick, but please know that you're part of the reason I keep finding the strength to get back up.
Like I said, others have bitten me in the ass, and not in the "Ooooooo... naughty!" kind of way. As mentioned in my last entry, where I went to mentally and emotionally, I don't wish upon the worst of my enemies (not that I have any... phew). I saw a way out - not the way I wanted. If I had awoken the next morning, gotten up and said, "AH! All better!", then I might understand a few raised eyebrows. But I didn't. I was stuck down in that hole and I needed some serious professional assistance to climb out. Now, if you're disappointed with that, then I can understand. It must be so tiring for my family, especially, to deal with my absences over and over again. But if you're a friend who's taking it as a personal affront that I landed in a psych ward and won't stand by me through that, then... well... you aren't a friend. Not only are you not a friend, I don't WANT you as my friend. You have nothing to offer me and I can't give you what you're after.
I'm tired, too, folks. I don't know how much gas I have left in the tanks. And if I don't have the stamina for MY drama, then I certainly don't have the stamina to be dragged into YOUR drama. I look into the mirror and I see a guy who is now too old and too worn out for junior high antics. I won't participate in them anymore.
Priorities change. My energy needs to be spent on those willing to spend the same on me. To those who have reached out or would reach out, you are truly in my heart.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Saturday, October 27, 2012
The Importance of Being Earnest
When it comes to mental health, you need support. Now you say, "Thank you, Mr. Obvious." More importantly, you need to click with that support. If you don't, then it's also your responsibility to seek additional resources. I did not do that. No, I gave my psychiatrist another chance because he has a good reputation and I felt badly about dumping him. And that landed me in another mental health ward.
Several months ago, I was prescribed a medication regimen that finally worked. Woot! A month and a half ago, this man prescribed medication on top of the original cocktail that did not work. Toow? It was as if two worlds collided and formed a black hole. Rather than help, it tanked my brain and sent me to a very, very dark place and I would strongly prefer not to revisit. It was a place I never thought I'd see and it was shocking... SHOCKING. Like, 'lock me up in this ward please' shocking.
Unfortunately, these things happen and it's one of the reasons Type 2 Bipolar has a 20% mortality rate. 20% sounds unbelievably large, and it is, but that's just one statistic and it factors in all sorts of things, including substance abuse and overdose. Regardless, figure that one in five people with BP might be going out the hard way. All it takes is a small tweak of medication and you're done. For me, who is already sensitive to prescriptions, it was dumping a third mood stabilizer on top of two others and, rather than stabilize my mood, it tore it to pieces. I'm not blaming that completely on the medication. I think I was still adjusting to feeling good... which must sound odd. It's alien to me. Every time I start to feel really, really good, I do something really, really stupid. And the additional stabilizer was like that first domino. Tip. Tip tip. TIP TIP TIP TIP TIP TIP TIP.
I won't be seeing this psychiatrist anymore. You can't prescribe medication in my case and say, "See you in a month and a half." Bipolar (and many MH disorders) is dynamic... what's working one week may not work the next. You need to be incredibly aggressive in its treatment, especially with people who are rapid cycling. It's also up to me to learn how to recognize the subtleties in my own body chemistry and catch them before they become huge problems. It's DIFFICULT. Hell, sometimes it just feels like gas. It scares me that I may have to go through this over and over again before I catch these things. But I'm still standing, so far.
Finally, I learned more about intentions. My intentions, as they've been for years, were pure. Truly. But my intentions are so skewed with this disorder. I intended to take my meds everyday. Hmm... though something was off. So I intended to make good and not take my meds. Oof. But that's not right either. So I intended to double my meds the next day, because that should fix things. Ugh, now I'm on my floor crying. What the @#%?! Should I triple them now? Or not take them for two days and then quadruple the fourth?
Phbbt. How do you catch a feeling or a thought when it's yours and your light-switch-brain only has two settings? My brain is either On or Off, when most brains have a dimmer. I'm still working on it and my intention today is to continue.
Maybe I should write this on a card and stick it to my forehead.
Several months ago, I was prescribed a medication regimen that finally worked. Woot! A month and a half ago, this man prescribed medication on top of the original cocktail that did not work. Toow? It was as if two worlds collided and formed a black hole. Rather than help, it tanked my brain and sent me to a very, very dark place and I would strongly prefer not to revisit. It was a place I never thought I'd see and it was shocking... SHOCKING. Like, 'lock me up in this ward please' shocking.
Unfortunately, these things happen and it's one of the reasons Type 2 Bipolar has a 20% mortality rate. 20% sounds unbelievably large, and it is, but that's just one statistic and it factors in all sorts of things, including substance abuse and overdose. Regardless, figure that one in five people with BP might be going out the hard way. All it takes is a small tweak of medication and you're done. For me, who is already sensitive to prescriptions, it was dumping a third mood stabilizer on top of two others and, rather than stabilize my mood, it tore it to pieces. I'm not blaming that completely on the medication. I think I was still adjusting to feeling good... which must sound odd. It's alien to me. Every time I start to feel really, really good, I do something really, really stupid. And the additional stabilizer was like that first domino. Tip. Tip tip. TIP TIP TIP TIP TIP TIP TIP.
I won't be seeing this psychiatrist anymore. You can't prescribe medication in my case and say, "See you in a month and a half." Bipolar (and many MH disorders) is dynamic... what's working one week may not work the next. You need to be incredibly aggressive in its treatment, especially with people who are rapid cycling. It's also up to me to learn how to recognize the subtleties in my own body chemistry and catch them before they become huge problems. It's DIFFICULT. Hell, sometimes it just feels like gas. It scares me that I may have to go through this over and over again before I catch these things. But I'm still standing, so far.
Finally, I learned more about intentions. My intentions, as they've been for years, were pure. Truly. But my intentions are so skewed with this disorder. I intended to take my meds everyday. Hmm... though something was off. So I intended to make good and not take my meds. Oof. But that's not right either. So I intended to double my meds the next day, because that should fix things. Ugh, now I'm on my floor crying. What the @#%?! Should I triple them now? Or not take them for two days and then quadruple the fourth?
Phbbt. How do you catch a feeling or a thought when it's yours and your light-switch-brain only has two settings? My brain is either On or Off, when most brains have a dimmer. I'm still working on it and my intention today is to continue.
Maybe I should write this on a card and stick it to my forehead.
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