Join Me in a Bipolar Mixed Episode

It’s been a day of hard issues. Please forgive my disjointed organization of thought. I’m taking you with me on a bout with Bipolar Mixed episode. I have depression paired with anxiety at the moment. I feel anger, rage actually. I want to die. Not to threaten it but to actually do the deed. I don’t because of my two kids and my mother. I love them too much to put them through a loss like that, so I’m stuck in this mental illness with no real way out. Meds work most of the time. Not tonight. I feel lonely – like I am ultimately responsible for myself, and I hate that. It’s scary and a lonely place to be. I’ve always been a sheltered child and then a sheltered woman. One of my problems is that I can’t organized my thoughts to keep a job for longer than a year but also can’t receive government aid (as income). It’s a terrible cycle which causes me much anxiety and depression.  Here is how it starts – the bipolar/mania cycle. As I type, the words on the screen are blurry, and I make a lot of spelling errors. I long for the long seep. The end of all of these roller coaster of emotions. Medications can only do so much for me. I’ve dealt with this for nine years. I’m TIRED of fighting with it. I hope I can sleep tonight. I hope when I wake, it’s a happy new day. But I don’t know. I hang in the abyss of a universe with stars blinking brightly, hurting my eyes. I float too closely to the planets. It’s sometimes hard to breathe in this dark vast space. Other times I get lungs full of fresh air. Hope is all I have. It stays somewhere deep in my core, a tiny flame that doesn’t seem to go out even when high winds or heavy rains cover it. I am inwardly thankful for that flame. It promises  another day that might be a good one. One with sunshine on my face and bird songs in my ears.

Depression – What a Difference a Day Makes

I’ve been reading over past blog posts. Years ago, depression took over my life. I was also in a very unhappy, dysfunctional relationship that I thought was “ok.”

I went through almost eight years of depression. At times, I drank too much wine and smoked too many cigarettes. At times, I partied with new “friends” too much. It’s not a period of my life I am proud of.

However, I now see ( in hindsight) that I needed to go through those years to learn important lessons.

Just six months ago, I met a man like I’d not met before. He was eight years my senior and had a similar sense of humor as I. We hit it off from date one. Six months later, we were married! Yes, I’m a newlywed at age 51.

I am no longer wracked with stress-induced tight muscles all over my body. I no longer have frequent headaches. I am not a prisoner of my bed, and I made many new friends and am part of  many new activities. My new spouse helped change my circumstances in life. He gives me tenderness, kindness, security, affection, and loving words.

I no longer fight the deep depression I once did. I do still take my generic Zoloft, though. I’m in perimenopause and fight hormone highs and lows. Now, to treat that!

Have faith, friends. It may look like your on you’re last leg – with no other choices in sight. Then, BOOM! Life changes 180 degrees. I’m living proof. Seven months ago, I prayed I’d not wake up each morning. Today, I love waking to a loving smile, dinners with friends, volunteer work, and traveling! I love my new life.

What a difference a day makes. My day was March 22, 2015. 😉

Stress! There ARE Effective Ways to Cope!

I’m passionate about something tonight. Negative stress. Let’s read a little further.

Got any of these symptoms?

• irritable behavior and frustration
• reduced exercise or active living
• increased food (especially junk food) consumption
• hard to focus or make decisions
• trouble sleeping or restlessness
• moody or emotional outbursts
• negative or depressed attitude
• Muscle tension or pain
• Stomach / abdominal pain
• rashes or skin irritation
• shortness of breath or irregular breathing
• sweating or cold spells

(learnthis.ca)

One way I have learned to handle plain old stress is by talking to mysellf. I know! It sounds like I’ve eaten one too many lead paint chips. But, think about it, you feel better after telling your best friend or therapist about your problems. When he/she isn’t available, tell yourself! You’d be surprised how much you an work out by doing this. Please don’t do it in a store or other public situation (unless you pretend you’re on your cell phone, and in that case, turn off the ringer so it doesn’t ring while you are speaking and give you away)! In the car? Sure! I do my best talking there. Diffusing my inner turmoil into the space outside my body!

I also hide in my bedroom and only do what I WANT when I feel especially stressed. I’ll let my two cats in, but that’s it. TV or computer on, tasty goodies on hand to nibble, in my pajamas. You get the idea. A cave of safety from the world and its demands and evil-doings. Why don’t you try to get away from everyone and spend time on ebay or facebook or reading something you love or maybe watching mindless sitcoms?

I have to remind myself to breathe when I’m really stressed. I tend to be a very shallow breather at those times. I also wear my shoulders like earrings (up high). So, I’m constantly taking deeper breaths and pushing my dang shoulders back down. “Relax,” I tell myself (yeah, that’s me doing self-talk).

Sleeping is amazing for lessening stress. I have the luxury of only attending classes till noon thirty, so I  can decompress in the afternoons, if needed. Last two days, I have taken long naps, and awoken to a much improved mood.

One night, my thoughtful boyfriend made me a very hot (ouch) bubble bath (he used too much Mr Bubble, and the small room was almost foggy with bubbles). Honestly, after letting my skin get used to the water-hot-enough-to-boil-a-crab, I loooooved it! Super relaxing all over my body. The hot bath is great after I finish a long night of embalming – especially if I have been suturing autopsy cases. That is a lot of arm/back work.

As mentioned before, talk out your stresses with someone you can TRUST. I  almost made the mistake of confiding in a woman yesterday who turned out to be a back-stabbing liar. Scary! I’m far too trusting. I’m hurt often.

I love you all, and I wish you a happy, healthy, STRESS-FREE day!

XO!

Starting Over – Again

Moving to Dallas wasn’t really a choice for me. I had to relocate to finish my degree in mortuary science. So, in the midst of therapy for depression and hormone adjustments for perimenopause, I decided to move to another state . . . with two cats and a kitten! I really AM a glutton for punishment sometimes.

So far, I’ve been lost half a dozen times, “turned around” at least 20 times, and locked out of my apartment’s electric gate on the only major stormy night the area has had in many weeks. I’d say change is good. I always used to say that. I still believe it to be true, but in small doses. A change here and there keeps life exciting – at least interesting.

Within the last four years, I’ve divorced, moved three times, started and stopped college three times, rescued a pregnant cat (twice), and have been “diagnosed” with Major Depressive Disorder. Duh! Who wouldn’t have depression and anxiety with all of those changes going on? I’m not even covering half of the happenings from the last few years on this page, either.

Here, I find myself in a one-bedroom apartment. 647 square feet, to be exact. I’ve auctioned off many of my belongings (and don’t really miss them) to fit into this small space. But, it’s updated, clean, and will soon feel like “home” (I hope).

At age 47, I’m kind of tired of changes happening in bunches. Don’t get me wrong, not all changes are bad ones. Both of my adult children are pregnant with their first children at the same time. My grandbabies will be only 4 months apart in age. That is a welcome change, but a huge change nonetheless.

Since childhood, I’ve not been a worrier. I’ve been an ignorer/denier. With that, comes forgetting important dates and appointments. So, no obsessing over issues, but neglecting to address them is just as harmful. Hey, if I don’t see it or think about it, it doesn’t exist, correct? Der, what a dumb coping skill I’ve picked up and kept for sooo long. That is one thing that is difficult to change . . . those old coping skills  . . . whether they worked or not.

Tomorrow evening, I’m going with an old high school friend and her grown daughter to House of Blues. We can reconnect, laugh, and hopefully, I’ll lose some of the mild depression that has been creeping into my head and chest.

So, onward and upward, right?

Till next time ~