Muscles, Mimosas, and Misery

I'm out of town this weekend so I didn't have much time to find what I wanted to post about.  I think my next big post is going to be about the stigma of taking medication, so for this Saturday enjoy a meme about bipolar meds. 

I know I have about zero followers and that is okay.  I keep thinking about starting an awareness movement for mental illness.  There are already so many national organizations that do it, but I know I personally never see anything from them which leads me to believe that many others do not see those either.  I know if I started something that there would not be many people who would see what I start either, but I think it is important.  There is so much stigma and embarrassment surrounding mental illness and it can make it difficult for people to seek help or even talk about it with their friends.  I know that typically most people don't discuss their illnesses in general, so it is a strange thing to want to openly discuss mental illness.  I keep thinking about starting the movement though.  I'm just not sure how.  I don't know what the best way to approach it would be.  I will keep thinking about it and maybe I will come up with something. ...

I think I had a psychotic episode the other night. I definitely had a mixed episode or possibly extreme rapid cycling.  I've been reluctant to try and fix my head until that moment.  The worst part about it was that I had experienced parts of it before.  It was that remembered experience that let me know just how bad things are and how bad things can get.  I don't want to go back to that place.  The only positive I can say for it, is that I am relieved to know that when I quit life previously I really was having severe mental problems.  Now I know just how severe. So, what happened?  I will do my best to describe it, but in writing I can never capture the true feeling.  Things were going well, better than they had in a long time.  Ben and I were in the kitchen talking and joking around.  Then a message came across my screen and Ben got annoyed/dejected.  He said he just needed a minute.  His request was normal; my reaction wa...

I went to the psychiatrist today.  Overall, it was....well...it was an experience.  I have been terrified of taking meds from the beginning.  This fear has fueled my anxiety towards the psychiatry visit.  I was cool, calm, and collected as I pulled into the parking lot.  I was calm and confident as I opened the door to the building, but the moment I entered the waiting room panic welled up inside me.  "Fuck, I'm really hear," I thought.  The initial process was no different from any other doctor's office.  I filled out the intake paperwork and had my vitals taken.  I was then sent back to the waiting room.  A few minutes later I was called back to the "exam" room and my panic continued to grow. My therapist had been very insistent that I see the actual psychiatrist.  I would have been so much more comfortable if I had seen the psychiatrist.  Instead, I saw the nurse practitioner.  I have nothing against nurses, and I kno...

It is so much easier to be manic than it is to be depressed.  In mania the world is full of possibility and potential.  In depression the world is a grey, empty wasteland of nothingness.  Everyday life seems unbearable.  There are no small moments to look forward to.  Life is the daily drudge of simply being alive.  The one thing that both mania and depression have in common is that the cure for both, in my mind, is replacing this life with one full of possibility and excitement.  In mania, however, I see this as possible.  In depression, I do not see this as possible. I must decide what I want my life to be.  I do not know if I can do that.  Is it even possible to know?  I keep asking myself, am I truly not happy with this life or is it illness that makes me unhappy ?  What does my fulfilled life look like?  In depression I know the chances of me being a  professional writer are very small.  Would I even be ha...

Good Morning World! I am much less scattered this morning.  I was able to get a full 8 hours of sleep without drugging myself which is fantastic.  I want to take this opportunity to write about Bipolar Disorder.  I could write out all the clinical symptoms and how to diagnose, etc, but that is not what this is about.  All of that information can be found online with a quick search.  I want to delve deep into what it means for me and how impact my life.  I am also going to take a moment to reflect on how so much of my life makes more sense knowing that I am Bipolar. For anyone who is unfamiliar with the disorder, Bipolar Disorder is a mental illness characterized my periods of depression, mania, or mixed episodes.  I started experience symptoms of hypomania in September and was subsequently diagnosed.  I think I would have continued un-diagnosed for several more weeks or months had it not been for a fantastic therapist that I had seen in the pa...

Torn between two hearts Torn between two minds Two souls I could have Two souls could be mine Torn between two souls nothing more

The music is blasting, yet I barely hear it. Thoughts are racing through my head Nothing seems very clear. My name is being called But my body doesn't react My eyes are closed But I can still see everything I have work to do but I can't do it I have places to be but I can't be there I'm trapped in my own world I cry for someone to rescue me but no one comes I scream for help and no one hears There is only one way out Should I take it?

I know this blog has been re-purposed several times.  Given the non existent traffic to the page, I'm not too worried about it.  I recently found out that I am Bipolar.  I have actually been Bipolar for as long as I can remember, but was only recently diagnosed.  Everyone I have told about it has said the same thing, "Huh, that makes so much sense!"  In some ways it is comforting to know what has been in my head my entire life.  There are still some things that make almost no sense. I'm a little scattered tonight, so this blog post probably won't flow in the best manner.  I wanted to spend some time writing about what Bipolar disorder feels like to me, but that will take more concentration than I have tonight.  Instead, the second point of this blog post was to introduce my writing.  I had a very intense and wonderful conversation with a good friend about writing and literature.  This reminded me that in the past a wrote A LOT.  I...