Tag: Mental Health

Darkness

On By SararosesIn Mental HealthLeave a comment

I’ve been on Depakote since July. I had a very dark October, and with the help of my therapist and a lot of what she called “psychological first aid” things started to trend up. I realized that Octobers are always hard for me, but this was the first without Lithium since I was a teen.

I had a couple weeks that were nearing hypomanic and everything was awesome. Now I’m feeling low/anxious again. My doctor wants to put me on Latuda. I’m too scared to try another antipsychotic, but he says maybe that’s because I’m helpless/hopeless. It’s hard to understand how he knows that after five minutes on a televisit. The other three drugs we tried had bad side effects (one included anxiety sooo much worse than this). I like to think it is partially due to the darkness and SAD. It gets hard when it gets dark at what feels like 2:30pm. I’ve also caught the respiratory crud, and have had it this week during my birthday and today on Christmas.

I contacted the therapist that I really liked, and she said she can’t ethically see me anymore, because she is through work and they can only offer short term therapy. She had “graduated” me in November. Ugh. Getting fired by a therapist is not pleasant. I started with a new therapist on a therapy app last week. I’m hopeful that she will help me crawl out of this hole.

I know part of what I miss is people, because they lit up my world. I’ve been remote since the beginning of the pandemic. I feel like a drain on my husband who also works remotely. I miss taking breaks and chatting with coworkers with out a screen between us. Now that I think about it, that is how I have met new people since the friends I made in school (many, many years ago). I have a few close friends, but we only talk on the phone. I want to get connected with church when I’m feeling better.

Crap, this vent sure is starting to make my doctor sound right. My husband is a light in the storm, but I feel like I’m taking all of his energy. He is ready to do whatever helps, and he just walked in the room singing a song from Paddington 2.

I want to connect with people and go to the pool again. I’m going back to my third(?) rewatch of Ted Lasso.

Slaying the Depakote-Fear Dragon

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I started taking Depakote 500mg BID on December 1st. The first day I felt like a zombie, I had trouble speaking and concentrating. I was so disheartened. I contacted my Pdoc immediately and asked if I could take both doses at night. Immediately helped. I felt like myself again.

Knowing that my doctor warned of weight gain and hair loss, I started to fret. My brother suggested I start my Moira Rose era. So far, I haven’t lost weight, but I have also been moving a lot. As far as hair care goes, I try not to add supplements to this chemical cocktail I already take, so I started using rosemary oil. At the very least, it smells nice.

My lithium has been reduced from 750 to 450mg. Hu-freaking-zah. My sleep is the main thing I notice. Sleep is sacred, and I’m getting 6-7 hours now, and 8 is my sweet spot. I keep waking at 2 or 3am. I’ve been doing some early am shopping, but I always keep it under 50 bucks and make sure it is “practical” in my sleepy brain. Thank goddess for Amazon’s return policey. I’ve had two or three nights of eight hours over the last few weeks. We moved on Sunday, so I’m hoping that I’m also getting used to the new place.

I’ve been using the Bipolar UK app to track my mood, and I couldn’t suggest it more. My nephew who was just dx started using it, too. He showed me how to look at trends. It made me feel so much better to see that I’m in a pretty safe zone based on my daily records.

“Step One of my Ridiculously Circuitous Plan: Complete!” Bender, Futurama

Battery Running Low

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Earlier today, I think I had an analogy about my energy being a battery that is depleted by being around people. It is feeling pretty low. Too low to flesh that analogy out. Went to my in-laws to move everything around one more time.

On our way “home”, I started to panic about the move. My sanctuary time is so important to keeping my battery full. When I got home I went for a walk to clear my head.

Sitting here in a warm blanket and half watching the new Matlock. I apologized to my husband, I know he is going through so much, too. I’m reminded of my favorite poet and the need to revisit my lungs.

my brain and
heart divorced

a decade ago

over who was

to blame about
how big of a mess
I have become

eventually,

they couldn’t be
in the same room
with each other

now my head and heart
share custody of me

stay with my brain
during the week

and my heart
gets me on weekends
they never speak to one another

– instead, they give me
the same note to pass
to each other every week

and their notes they
send to one another always
says the same thing:

“This is all your fault’

on Sundays

my heart complains
about how my

head has let me down
in the past

and on Wednesday
my head lists all
of the times my
heart has screwed
things up for me
in the future

they blame each
other for the

state of my life

there’s been a lot
of yelling – and crying

SO,
lately, I’ve been
spending a lot of

time with my gut

who serves as my
unofficial therapist

most nights, sneak out of the
window in my ribcage

and slide down my spine
and collapse on my

gut’s plush leather chair
that’s always open for me

~ and just sit sit sit sit
until the sun comes up

last evening,

my gut asked me

if was having a hard
time being caught
between my heart
and my head

nodded

said didn’t know
if could live with
either of them anymore
“my heart is always sad about

something that happened yesterday

while my head is always worried

about something that may happen tomorrow,
lamented

my gut squeezed my hand

‘just can’t live with

my mistakes of the past

or my anxiety about the future,’
sighed

my gut smiled and said:
‘in that case,

you should

go stay with your

lungs for a while,’

was confused
– the look on my face gave it away

“if you are exhausted about

your heart’s obsession with

the fixed past and your mind’s focus
on the uncertain future

your lungs are the perfect place for you

there is no yesterday in your lungs
there is no tomorrow there either

there is only now

there is only inhale

there is only exhale

there is only this moment

there is only breath
and in that breath

you can rest while your
heart and head work
their relationship out.’

this morning,
while my brain
was busy reading
tea leaves

and while my
heart was staring
at old photographs

packed a little
bag and walked
to the door of
my lungs

before could even knock
she opened the door

with a smile and as

a gust of air embraced me
she said
“what took you so long?’

by John Roedel

Even more beautiful out of his own mouth.

Medication Transition Part IV

On By SararosesIn Mental Health3 Comments

After Lamictal gave me rashes, my Pdoc suggested Seroquel. I tried for a few days, but the fatigue was like a perma-hangover. I need to be on top of my game at work, so this is a no go. I also had trouble sleeping. I learned from my Sleep doctor that antipsychotics exacerbate sleep movement disorders. If it’s not one thing it is six others. 😐 He wanted me to switch to Latuda (another antipsychotic). Ugh.

I joined an amazing forum called Bipolar UK https://ecommunity.bipolaruk.org/. I learned so much from the users there. I’m going to try Depakote next. He said it works better for mania, which has always been my biggest issue for the last thirty years. The worst depression/anxiety came from the Geodon trial.

Earlier this month my mother-in-law died, and almost ten of her family members contracted COVID while visiting her. This was my first COVID dx. There is some relief that I don’t have to live in a bubble worrying about getting it. It was unpleasant but manageable. The hardest part was that none of us could be there when she died. Being high risk, I was prescribed Paxlovid, and the nurse told me to stop taking my sleep meds (clonazepam). If I had a nickel every time that happened, I’d have 10 cents, but it SUCKS. It has been 25 days and I am still sleeping 4-5 hours. My sleep doc told me to up my Clonazepam to 2-3 mg. I had one eight hours and last night was five. It gets so frustrating not being able to sleep. I get so down on my self, even though I know it is my brain. In the morning my husband registers worry and pain on his face, and I feel even worse.

We are moving in with his father to help take care of him. When I got my psychology undergrad in the 90s, I remember a list of the worst stressors. It feels like I’m hitting too many at once – death, moving, hypomania, lack of sleep, and the therapist is closing her practice. Luckily, my relationship with my hubby of 25 years last month is as strong as ever.

We bought ourselves laptops for retail therapy. So far, I love it. Gives me a way to write, work on my photos, learn more things (knitting, guitar/cello), meet more people. I’m aware that my social circle has dwindled to just a few people. I’d like to get back to UU church and go to some meetups. I had a mediation group with my mother-in-law, but I need to find a new one.

I’m finally getting to a point where I don’t need to repeat things over and over to keep focus. When I can’t sleep I’ve been noting things I don’t want to forget. It includes fifty items that I dropped into AI, to create a categorized Google Sheet. I also started a Google Sheet of MBA programs. AI has been super helpful, and it is the only thing that feels like it keeps up with a manic brain.

I’m tired and ready to slow down. I hope I sleep all night tomorrow, because we are moving our offices to my in-laws tomorrow.

A little meandery today, but I wanted to jump back on the blog.

Hope for the future.

C is for Clonazepam

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I have stopped regularly taking clonazepam. For many years, I took it nightly to sleep. It was prescribed after I learned it could help stave off mania if I catch it early. I now only take it if I can’t sleep well. Last night, I woke up at 2am and couldn’t go back to sleep. At three, I took a clonazepam and started reading a biography about Orson Welles instead of getting sucked into TikTok. My solid, well-protected, almost eight hours of sleep a night has been slipping. I’ve been so exhausted and busy today. Or normally busy with a side of exhaustion. 

I’m glad that I logged on today, because I just remembered that I have Seroquel in my tool pouch. The downside is that I will feel hung over tomorrow, but it is worth it if I can get my sleep schedule righted.

I just finished watching the movie “Self Reliance” on Hulu. It was a good movie. I didn’t know much about it, but it was not great timing for a movie that reminded me so much of 1997 movie “The Game.” I switched it to “Ted” for my hubby, and this show is definitely not for me. It’s time to retire, pop a prescribed pill, and learn more about Orson Welles. 

“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?” – Ernest Hemingway

The C Word

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cra·zy
1. very foolish, irrational, or strange.
2. extremely excited or enthusiastic.
3. having a mental illness. [offensive]

There is nothing lazier than beginning with a definition, but here I am.

My relationship with the word crazy is tumultuous, so much so that I’ve blogged about it before (multiple times). I like the word, there are so many times when it is perfect, e.g., “The move Brazil was crazy and wonderful.” Like the more famous C word, it can have a devastating impact on me. A close family member stops me when I say it to explain that it is not OK, because he has family who are crazy [me]. Blerg. I think I’m just describing an opportunity for better boundary setting, and the word crazy doesn’t deserve to be bullied. Words are beautiful, wonderful, crazy things that shouldn’t be censored. Maybe this one just needs some new friends: unconventional, eccentric, quirky, unorthodox, wacky, outlandish, bizarre, weird, strange, peculiar, daft, zany, off the wall.

Bottom line — just don’t be an ass.