Thursday, March 4, 2010
New Meds
I'm trying out Seroquel extended release. I decided that I hate feeling dopey and tired in the middle of the day after I take my regular Seroquel. We'll see how taking the ER goes. Any time I change my medicine the worry is that my mood will shift. I started taking the new meds on Tuesday, a couple days ago. I felt a little off this morning. I'm not sure what that means, if it's from the change or not. The weird thing is that I got 10 hours of sleep, well, 9 plus dozing. You would think that I'd feel awesome this morning. The other thing I'm not sure about is if the dosage needs to change because of the ER. If the ER works well, it will be nice to not have to feel side effects while I'm working at ODS. I'll have to keep an eye on my mood this weekend.
Friday, February 26, 2010
From The Doctor's Side
I just finished reading Weekends at Bellevue by Julie Holland, M.D., It is her memoir about working the weekend overnight shift in the psych ER at New York's Bellevue Hospital. I really enjoyed reading about the psychiatrist's point of view. She tells countless stories of patients she saw come through the ER. in many shades of insanity. Toward the end of the book she has a short chapter in which she discusses the relative nature of mental illness.
She writes, "If any of us shared with a psychiatrist every intimate thought we had, our darkest secrets, is it possible we would still be judged safe and sane? There are plenty of times we feel murderous rage, or we think it would be easier if we didn't exist anymore. It's a common fantasy to see ourselves driving the car over the edge of the embankment or into oncoming traffic. Using the criteria of danger to self or others for involuntary commitment, any of these impulses and fantasies is enough to buy you a short stay in the hospital's inpatient psych ward. On the other hand as lon as you keep them to yourself, you can walk around the city freely."
She says shortly after this, "The reality is this: All of us, to some degree, are mentally ill." She lists off various manifestations of this including anxiety, depression, insomnia, compulsions, addictions great and small. Then she continues, "Every one of us has psychiatric symptoms, many of them serious enough to warrant attention, even if they are not incapacitating. But few of us are willing to let on that we are suffering. This secrecy and shame compounds our avoidance of those who have been officially diagnosed as mentally ill."
And later, "We avoid dealing with psychiatric patients because we hate to see things in others that we don't want to see in ourselves: weakness, need, despair, aggression. Our experiences with the psychiatrically ill often fill us with dread; they confront us with our own terror of reaching a catastrophically altered state from which there is no return, We should be compassionate to those who stumble out of our lockstep. Yet in our culture, the mentally ill are demonized and shunned They are ostracized and marginalized as a by-product of our primal fear of going cray ourselves."
She talks more about how we treat the mentally ill in this country and contrasts it with other countries, citing Vietnam as one example. Then she writes, "Instead of integrating them among us, we shutter our psychiatric patients away so that we will not have to be reminded of all that can go wrong with our own minds and brains."
I really liked this chapter. The tone is different than most of the book because she is making more of a commentary than recounting her experiences in story form, but because she doesn't preach much in the rest of the book, this sermon isn't off-putting.
I recommend this to anyone dealing with mental illness, either their own or someone else's It is a great perspective that most of us don't get to see.
She writes, "If any of us shared with a psychiatrist every intimate thought we had, our darkest secrets, is it possible we would still be judged safe and sane? There are plenty of times we feel murderous rage, or we think it would be easier if we didn't exist anymore. It's a common fantasy to see ourselves driving the car over the edge of the embankment or into oncoming traffic. Using the criteria of danger to self or others for involuntary commitment, any of these impulses and fantasies is enough to buy you a short stay in the hospital's inpatient psych ward. On the other hand as lon as you keep them to yourself, you can walk around the city freely."
She says shortly after this, "The reality is this: All of us, to some degree, are mentally ill." She lists off various manifestations of this including anxiety, depression, insomnia, compulsions, addictions great and small. Then she continues, "Every one of us has psychiatric symptoms, many of them serious enough to warrant attention, even if they are not incapacitating. But few of us are willing to let on that we are suffering. This secrecy and shame compounds our avoidance of those who have been officially diagnosed as mentally ill."
And later, "We avoid dealing with psychiatric patients because we hate to see things in others that we don't want to see in ourselves: weakness, need, despair, aggression. Our experiences with the psychiatrically ill often fill us with dread; they confront us with our own terror of reaching a catastrophically altered state from which there is no return, We should be compassionate to those who stumble out of our lockstep. Yet in our culture, the mentally ill are demonized and shunned They are ostracized and marginalized as a by-product of our primal fear of going cray ourselves."
She talks more about how we treat the mentally ill in this country and contrasts it with other countries, citing Vietnam as one example. Then she writes, "Instead of integrating them among us, we shutter our psychiatric patients away so that we will not have to be reminded of all that can go wrong with our own minds and brains."
I really liked this chapter. The tone is different than most of the book because she is making more of a commentary than recounting her experiences in story form, but because she doesn't preach much in the rest of the book, this sermon isn't off-putting.
I recommend this to anyone dealing with mental illness, either their own or someone else's It is a great perspective that most of us don't get to see.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
From the inside
Where to start? The narrative of a manic episode from inside the head of the maniac is difficult to tell because of all the associations and leaps in logic, as well as the non-linear quality. I could start anywhere but everything seems to need some back story. I could start from the trip back from Florida. That is probably a place where normal thinking switches to manic thinking.
In the Denver airport I had some time to kill so I called a couple people. One was my friend P. who was living in Denver at that point. I hadn't spoken with him for a while and thought it would be nice to say hi while I was in town, even though it was unlikely he could meet me at the airport during my layover. I also talked to my ex-girlfriend. I think I thought of her after seeing a baby. The reasoning behind this is a side story not worth going into.
As I was talking on the phone I spotted a red-headed woman who appeared to be waiting for the same flight as me. The background on red-headed women is that I find them attractive, and in some of my obsessing over women I had keyed on redheads. Later when we lined up to get on the plane the redhead was in front of me. I decided I needed to talk to this woman or at least create the circumstance where we could interact on the flight, so I sat next to her. We didn't talk on the flight until the very end as we were approaching our destination, my hometown. Throughout the flight I was hoping to strike up some conversation but she was engrossed in her book, and I also didn't want to give the impression of being a creepy guy hitting on her. My mind was working overtime but I think I was able to act pretty mellow during the flight. When we did start talking at the end of the flight, she said she was visiting a friend and this was her first time visiting this city. I gave her some recommendations on what she might do while in town for the weekend. (Keep in mind this was Valentine's Weekend, this is relevant at a later point.) In particular I mentioned a Thai restaurant that I like.
After getting off the plane I was still hoping to talk to her and possibly give her my number. Even though she was from out of town, the possibilities between us were only bounded by my manic thinking's limits of imagination. I payed attention to which suitcase she grabbed from the baggage carousel and was not surprised when it was a wonderful shade of bright green, another sign to me of the necessary connection to her. I debated with myself about approaching her and giving her my number, which I didn't end up doing. When her friend arrived I was a man and then the thought occurred to me that it was the Wednesday before Valentine's Day and perhaps he wasn't merely a friend.
Mama D. picked me up from the airport and we went to get some food at the Thai restaurant that I had told the red-headed woman about. The whole time we were at the restaurant I was expecting her to walk in with her friend. It was meant to be. And like so many things that are "meant to be" when I'm manic, this was not.
I didn't get to bed until around 11pm that night which was 2 am according to my body's clock. This long day set the stage for the chaos that followed.
In the Denver airport I had some time to kill so I called a couple people. One was my friend P. who was living in Denver at that point. I hadn't spoken with him for a while and thought it would be nice to say hi while I was in town, even though it was unlikely he could meet me at the airport during my layover. I also talked to my ex-girlfriend. I think I thought of her after seeing a baby. The reasoning behind this is a side story not worth going into.
As I was talking on the phone I spotted a red-headed woman who appeared to be waiting for the same flight as me. The background on red-headed women is that I find them attractive, and in some of my obsessing over women I had keyed on redheads. Later when we lined up to get on the plane the redhead was in front of me. I decided I needed to talk to this woman or at least create the circumstance where we could interact on the flight, so I sat next to her. We didn't talk on the flight until the very end as we were approaching our destination, my hometown. Throughout the flight I was hoping to strike up some conversation but she was engrossed in her book, and I also didn't want to give the impression of being a creepy guy hitting on her. My mind was working overtime but I think I was able to act pretty mellow during the flight. When we did start talking at the end of the flight, she said she was visiting a friend and this was her first time visiting this city. I gave her some recommendations on what she might do while in town for the weekend. (Keep in mind this was Valentine's Weekend, this is relevant at a later point.) In particular I mentioned a Thai restaurant that I like.
After getting off the plane I was still hoping to talk to her and possibly give her my number. Even though she was from out of town, the possibilities between us were only bounded by my manic thinking's limits of imagination. I payed attention to which suitcase she grabbed from the baggage carousel and was not surprised when it was a wonderful shade of bright green, another sign to me of the necessary connection to her. I debated with myself about approaching her and giving her my number, which I didn't end up doing. When her friend arrived I was a man and then the thought occurred to me that it was the Wednesday before Valentine's Day and perhaps he wasn't merely a friend.
Mama D. picked me up from the airport and we went to get some food at the Thai restaurant that I had told the red-headed woman about. The whole time we were at the restaurant I was expecting her to walk in with her friend. It was meant to be. And like so many things that are "meant to be" when I'm manic, this was not.
I didn't get to bed until around 11pm that night which was 2 am according to my body's clock. This long day set the stage for the chaos that followed.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Florida
At the end of January/beginning of February last year I went to Florida to visit my grandparents. While I was in Florida I felt like my mood was pretty stable. I can see in retrospect that I was on the up side of things. My emotions were more acute. I was more intense about some things.
I remember having a very serious conversation with my grandfather while we were driving around about my mom and things I was just finding out about her, like the fact that she went to the hospital when she was 19 due to an overdose on drugs. I remember at the time suspecting that perhaps she intentionally overdosed, trying to commit suicide. This led to the idea that if that was true, perhaps her becoming pregnant with me saved her life. I haven't thought about these things since then. My grandfather wouldn't really tell me anything about what happened. He just said that I should talk to my mom about it, that she should be the one to tell me. I never brought it up to her. After I got back from Florida my mania kicked into high gear, and I became fixated on other things. Perhaps I should bring my questions about that time up to my mom. I have serious doubts about whether she would tell me anything. But if I don't ask, then I'll never know. I think I will talk to my psychiatrist about it first and see what he has to say.
What I think really put my mania over the edge was traveling home from Florida. I was up early East Coast time and I went to be about 11pm West Coast time. I calculated at the time that it was a 20 hour day. One thing I remember after getting off of the plane was about the time change. I did the math the wrong way and converted three hours in the wrong direction, leading me to think I had been up six hours less than I actually had been. This error is what partially led to staying up so late. Mama D. picked me up from the airport and I decided that I could get something to eat with her, when I should have gone straight home and to bed.
Fortunately, I didn't have to work the next day. The day after that, when I returned to work, was the day I realized that I was in love with J.
I remember having a very serious conversation with my grandfather while we were driving around about my mom and things I was just finding out about her, like the fact that she went to the hospital when she was 19 due to an overdose on drugs. I remember at the time suspecting that perhaps she intentionally overdosed, trying to commit suicide. This led to the idea that if that was true, perhaps her becoming pregnant with me saved her life. I haven't thought about these things since then. My grandfather wouldn't really tell me anything about what happened. He just said that I should talk to my mom about it, that she should be the one to tell me. I never brought it up to her. After I got back from Florida my mania kicked into high gear, and I became fixated on other things. Perhaps I should bring my questions about that time up to my mom. I have serious doubts about whether she would tell me anything. But if I don't ask, then I'll never know. I think I will talk to my psychiatrist about it first and see what he has to say.
What I think really put my mania over the edge was traveling home from Florida. I was up early East Coast time and I went to be about 11pm West Coast time. I calculated at the time that it was a 20 hour day. One thing I remember after getting off of the plane was about the time change. I did the math the wrong way and converted three hours in the wrong direction, leading me to think I had been up six hours less than I actually had been. This error is what partially led to staying up so late. Mama D. picked me up from the airport and I decided that I could get something to eat with her, when I should have gone straight home and to bed.
Fortunately, I didn't have to work the next day. The day after that, when I returned to work, was the day I realized that I was in love with J.
Friday, February 5, 2010
One Year Ago
One year ago I was on the brink of a very severe and life-(altering/shattering/disrupting) manic episode. Part of the purpose of this blog is to reflect on my past experiences with bipolar disorder. So I think I'll begin to write about my episode a year ago.
In January, and maybe in December I'm not totally sure, my mood began move into hypomanic/manic territory. I know this because other people in my life have told me this, and, in reflecting, I remember a few situations in which I can see the connection between my actions and an elevated mood.
For example, one night I went over to a friends house, to hang out and play an interesting strategy game. I had a good time and was feeling upbeat. I headed home on my bike. It was about 10:00 or 11:00 at night. While I was on my way home I passed a convenience store, in the parking lot of which there was a sizable group of young people on bikes. One member of the group had a trailer attached to his bike with a sound system set up on it. I call it a sound system because it wasn't a mere stereo, it was a serious set up attached to a car battery with some serious speakers. I passed the group, but felt pulled back to them. I went back to check out what was going on. This began the second part of my evening, which lasted until well after 1:00 in the morning and involved stopping at two different houses, one not too far from my house and the other in the inner NE part of town, maybe a few miles away. I didn't necessarily do anything particularly manic, but the simple fact that I joined in with a group of strangers, traveled around with them, stayed out late, and did all of this on a whim, makes this abnormal behavior which can be attributed to an elevated mood state.
Another thing I can look back at as evidence of an elevated mood are my pocket journals. I was writing all kinds of little notes and aphorisms. I was getting deeply involved in reading and thinking about Myers-Briggs personality types.
Another situation I remember from January last year was the big auction night at work. I know my mood was up that day. I was in action mode and feeling good, but I'm certain my mood was also elevated. I felt like a general with his troops. I was feeling self-confident, if not grandiose. My mind was running fast. I said some things I maybe shouldn't have or in a way I shouldn't have. Other things I remember from work that month are how I thought that my energy at work was affecting my co-workers. This was a bit of "magical thinking" or perceiving something that was on a different level. I think I was getting less work done, but I felt like I was doing important things like distributing events calenders and other tasks that I thought would part of my plan to get a promotion. I'm mainly relying on my memory right now, which is spotty, but even these scattered bits point to my elevated mood.
Of course, at the time I thought I was doing great. I couldn't see where things were headed. I didn't know that my enthusiasms and new interests would start to become obsessions and eventually I would fall into the most destructive obsession, the one focused on J. When I'm flirting with mania the line between possibility and certainty, between fantasy and reality, between hopes and facts becomes exceedingly thin. If I think it, it becomes real. If I want it, I try to make it happen. And I don't realize when I cross this line.
I took my feelings of friendship and closeness with J. and expanded them into a world of deep love and devotion. I took our working relationship and my perception of her role as my confidant and adviser and transformed them into a relationship outside of work that was mostly in my mind. The line between what I wanted and what existed disappeared. Because I wanted it, it must be so, and I must make it so.
This is how the month that shook me started.
In January, and maybe in December I'm not totally sure, my mood began move into hypomanic/manic territory. I know this because other people in my life have told me this, and, in reflecting, I remember a few situations in which I can see the connection between my actions and an elevated mood.
For example, one night I went over to a friends house, to hang out and play an interesting strategy game. I had a good time and was feeling upbeat. I headed home on my bike. It was about 10:00 or 11:00 at night. While I was on my way home I passed a convenience store, in the parking lot of which there was a sizable group of young people on bikes. One member of the group had a trailer attached to his bike with a sound system set up on it. I call it a sound system because it wasn't a mere stereo, it was a serious set up attached to a car battery with some serious speakers. I passed the group, but felt pulled back to them. I went back to check out what was going on. This began the second part of my evening, which lasted until well after 1:00 in the morning and involved stopping at two different houses, one not too far from my house and the other in the inner NE part of town, maybe a few miles away. I didn't necessarily do anything particularly manic, but the simple fact that I joined in with a group of strangers, traveled around with them, stayed out late, and did all of this on a whim, makes this abnormal behavior which can be attributed to an elevated mood state.
Another thing I can look back at as evidence of an elevated mood are my pocket journals. I was writing all kinds of little notes and aphorisms. I was getting deeply involved in reading and thinking about Myers-Briggs personality types.
Another situation I remember from January last year was the big auction night at work. I know my mood was up that day. I was in action mode and feeling good, but I'm certain my mood was also elevated. I felt like a general with his troops. I was feeling self-confident, if not grandiose. My mind was running fast. I said some things I maybe shouldn't have or in a way I shouldn't have. Other things I remember from work that month are how I thought that my energy at work was affecting my co-workers. This was a bit of "magical thinking" or perceiving something that was on a different level. I think I was getting less work done, but I felt like I was doing important things like distributing events calenders and other tasks that I thought would part of my plan to get a promotion. I'm mainly relying on my memory right now, which is spotty, but even these scattered bits point to my elevated mood.
Of course, at the time I thought I was doing great. I couldn't see where things were headed. I didn't know that my enthusiasms and new interests would start to become obsessions and eventually I would fall into the most destructive obsession, the one focused on J. When I'm flirting with mania the line between possibility and certainty, between fantasy and reality, between hopes and facts becomes exceedingly thin. If I think it, it becomes real. If I want it, I try to make it happen. And I don't realize when I cross this line.
I took my feelings of friendship and closeness with J. and expanded them into a world of deep love and devotion. I took our working relationship and my perception of her role as my confidant and adviser and transformed them into a relationship outside of work that was mostly in my mind. The line between what I wanted and what existed disappeared. Because I wanted it, it must be so, and I must make it so.
This is how the month that shook me started.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Mania Lite
Less filling, tastes great? Not quite. More like: Less sleeping, more stress.
The last week I've been feeling up. Ever since my sleep got fucked last weekend. Starting the new job on Thursday just aggravated my elevated mood. I've been upping my Seroquel for the last 3 days or more. Now I'm at 100mg above normal. I should make sure my mood is stable before I reduce it back to 500 a day, what it was before. I also took some Klonapin yesterday to keep myself from freaking the fuck out. Talking to upset people on the phone all day is not conducive to a peaceful and serene life. In other words, I WILL NEVER WORK IN A FUCKING CALL CENTER AGAIN. If I forget this promise some how, please remind me. Now call centers have joined sales jobs and canvassing for money as "Shit I won't do even if you pay me."
I'm swearing a lot in this entry. I definitely lose some of the filter when I'm feeling up. Mostly it comes out in my conversations but it flows in the writing as well. Tonight I don't feel too off balance, but after I get up at 6am again tomorrow I'm sure I'll be feeling it. Well, when I get my paycheck next Friday I can be grateful that I actually had some work, unlike so many others out there right now. I am really thankful this job came up. I am twice as grateful that the other job that I start Monday came up, so that I can have this little taste of hell and then be done with it forever (maybe?).
I'll check back in as to what trajectory my mood continues to take. But for now I just need to get to bed on time and "take the fucking pills" as another blogger says.
The last week I've been feeling up. Ever since my sleep got fucked last weekend. Starting the new job on Thursday just aggravated my elevated mood. I've been upping my Seroquel for the last 3 days or more. Now I'm at 100mg above normal. I should make sure my mood is stable before I reduce it back to 500 a day, what it was before. I also took some Klonapin yesterday to keep myself from freaking the fuck out. Talking to upset people on the phone all day is not conducive to a peaceful and serene life. In other words, I WILL NEVER WORK IN A FUCKING CALL CENTER AGAIN. If I forget this promise some how, please remind me. Now call centers have joined sales jobs and canvassing for money as "Shit I won't do even if you pay me."
I'm swearing a lot in this entry. I definitely lose some of the filter when I'm feeling up. Mostly it comes out in my conversations but it flows in the writing as well. Tonight I don't feel too off balance, but after I get up at 6am again tomorrow I'm sure I'll be feeling it. Well, when I get my paycheck next Friday I can be grateful that I actually had some work, unlike so many others out there right now. I am really thankful this job came up. I am twice as grateful that the other job that I start Monday came up, so that I can have this little taste of hell and then be done with it forever (maybe?).
I'll check back in as to what trajectory my mood continues to take. But for now I just need to get to bed on time and "take the fucking pills" as another blogger says.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Paying The Bills
So I started a work assignment with the temp agency today. The funny thing is that earlier this week I wrote that I had given up on finding anything soon with either of the two temp agencies. Then today I got a call while I was at the new job from the other temp agency saying they had something for me. Crazy! So then I went through a whole mess of whether I should stay at the one or go to the other. After much weighing of pros, cons, and indecisive anxiety I called my grandparents and told them about my dilemma. They gave me some validation on how I felt about the situation, which was basically that I could stay at the current assignment and make more money, or go to the new assignment and probably be happier and healthier (mentally). So I decided to go to the new one.
It is downtown, rather than way the hell out in BFE where the bus is a bitch to take and ultimately requires driving my non-existent car, borrowing my housemate's car (not a long term option), or carpooling (probably do-able eventually). The hours are shorter, but the pay rate is a little better. Bottom line is I'll make about $100 less a week at the downtown job. But I will have more free time, the commute is super easy, and I think the work will be way better. I think I really don't like working in a call center. Although at the end of today I took 3 calls in about 15 minutes and it was super easy.
So now I'm off to bed so I can be up at 7am.
It is downtown, rather than way the hell out in BFE where the bus is a bitch to take and ultimately requires driving my non-existent car, borrowing my housemate's car (not a long term option), or carpooling (probably do-able eventually). The hours are shorter, but the pay rate is a little better. Bottom line is I'll make about $100 less a week at the downtown job. But I will have more free time, the commute is super easy, and I think the work will be way better. I think I really don't like working in a call center. Although at the end of today I took 3 calls in about 15 minutes and it was super easy.
So now I'm off to bed so I can be up at 7am.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The Bipolar Blogosphere and Other Random Crap
In my wandering and searching for other bipolar focused blogs I have discovered a whole world of them. Many are easy to find. This is a different story from rowing blogs, which I also have one of under my real identity. I've had some trouble finding many blogs about rowing and many of the bloggers I used to read have stopped writing or moved and I can't find them. So anyway I have found a few blogs on bipolar that I like. I have found some that I can do without and some others that I may read but weren't hooked by. I am slowly adding to my blog roll.
Today I'm feeling the dopey side effects of my Seroquel. I didn't take a nap, but I didn't do anything very productive either, such as looking for a job. A task that is becoming more pressing each day. My seasonal job will start at the end of March and the longer I go without one the more money my grandparents have to give me to pay my rent and health insurance.
Thankfully I have just finished paying off the hospital for my last episode. In all I think I paid about $2,000 which is actually not bad for two ER visits (in the same day) and six days in the psych ward. On the other hand, why do I have to pay so much to keep myself and others safe from my madness? I now pay over $5,000 a year for insurance, isn't that enough, considering I've only been hospitalized twice in almost seven years now. If I was paying five grand a year for all seven of those years that would be $35,000 for two hospital visits, doctor's visits, and medication. $5,000 is about half of my average yearly income since graduating from college. And after last year that average is coming down.
My family, particularly my grandparents, are anxious for me to get SS disability. I'm not sure I would get approved yet, even after going through double rejection and appeal, which I hear is the standard routine. Sometimes I get down about not having had a job that lasted more than a year since graduating, before graduating as well, but you'd think a graduate from a very expensive and prestigious college could at least hold down even a crap job for more than a year. Considering the jobs I've had, maybe it's good I haven't had one that lasted very long. Now that I'm back on the seasonal schedule things are going to be uncertain every few months. I need to get into grad school, now. I definitely need to get a summer gig lined up before the spring session starts. I think I might have missed the trackers job. I should still inquire about it. I think it would be mad fun to work with them. I don't think I can count on getting anything from the temp agencies I'm registered with.
The job shit definitely cuts into my self-esteem and self-worth. Really, it cuts into my Ego. My Higher Self isn't hurt by my job or financial circumstances. But the feelings of uselessness and self-loathing that come from the way I look at my job situation do effect my soul and Higher Self. Remember to smile and breathe and be here in the present moment. The present moment is the only moment in which we can truly live, to quote Thich Nhat Hanh. He says to smile at our sorrow and suffering, because we are not our suffering, there is more than suffering. I am grateful for life and health and the love around me. I have been learning more and more to love myself, which has been one of the hardest parts of my spiritual journey.
Anyway that was quite a rambling post, but good for being written.
Status Report
Mood: low normal
Medication: took extra Seroquel today and yesterday
Sleep: only 8 hrs last night, bed at 2 up at 10
Exercise: not yet so far today, but maybe after tutoring
Food: fine, need to eat my broccoli before it goes bad
Today I'm feeling the dopey side effects of my Seroquel. I didn't take a nap, but I didn't do anything very productive either, such as looking for a job. A task that is becoming more pressing each day. My seasonal job will start at the end of March and the longer I go without one the more money my grandparents have to give me to pay my rent and health insurance.
Thankfully I have just finished paying off the hospital for my last episode. In all I think I paid about $2,000 which is actually not bad for two ER visits (in the same day) and six days in the psych ward. On the other hand, why do I have to pay so much to keep myself and others safe from my madness? I now pay over $5,000 a year for insurance, isn't that enough, considering I've only been hospitalized twice in almost seven years now. If I was paying five grand a year for all seven of those years that would be $35,000 for two hospital visits, doctor's visits, and medication. $5,000 is about half of my average yearly income since graduating from college. And after last year that average is coming down.
My family, particularly my grandparents, are anxious for me to get SS disability. I'm not sure I would get approved yet, even after going through double rejection and appeal, which I hear is the standard routine. Sometimes I get down about not having had a job that lasted more than a year since graduating, before graduating as well, but you'd think a graduate from a very expensive and prestigious college could at least hold down even a crap job for more than a year. Considering the jobs I've had, maybe it's good I haven't had one that lasted very long. Now that I'm back on the seasonal schedule things are going to be uncertain every few months. I need to get into grad school, now. I definitely need to get a summer gig lined up before the spring session starts. I think I might have missed the trackers job. I should still inquire about it. I think it would be mad fun to work with them. I don't think I can count on getting anything from the temp agencies I'm registered with.
The job shit definitely cuts into my self-esteem and self-worth. Really, it cuts into my Ego. My Higher Self isn't hurt by my job or financial circumstances. But the feelings of uselessness and self-loathing that come from the way I look at my job situation do effect my soul and Higher Self. Remember to smile and breathe and be here in the present moment. The present moment is the only moment in which we can truly live, to quote Thich Nhat Hanh. He says to smile at our sorrow and suffering, because we are not our suffering, there is more than suffering. I am grateful for life and health and the love around me. I have been learning more and more to love myself, which has been one of the hardest parts of my spiritual journey.
Anyway that was quite a rambling post, but good for being written.
Status Report
Mood: low normal
Medication: took extra Seroquel today and yesterday
Sleep: only 8 hrs last night, bed at 2 up at 10
Exercise: not yet so far today, but maybe after tutoring
Food: fine, need to eat my broccoli before it goes bad
Monday, January 25, 2010
Dancing Fool
I went dancing last night. It's the first time I've been dancing since last February when I was running high in my mania. In fact, the last time I went dancing was the night I tried to tell J. that I was deeply in love with her and the night before I had the psychotic break in front of her house.
The dancing was great. I didn't want the night to end. I stayed out until about 1:30 and didn't get to bed until about 3:00. Today I definitely have a "hangover," not from alcohol, because I don't drink, but from putting out so much energy and staying up so late. I'm feeling a little jittery and scattered mentally. Tonight should be much easier to get to bed at a reasonable time. My sleep this weekend has generally been screwy. I got up early on Saturday morning and went to bed late that night as well, and then yesterday I didn't get up until noon. That's when I got up today too. This doesn't bode well for my mood. I'll have to watch myself and maybe take some extra Seroquel.
I've found some good blogs focused on bipolar out there. Check my blogroll to see what I'm reading. I especially like The Secret Life of a Manic Depressive.
Today's Status Report
Mood: low-mildly elevated, jittery, scattered
Sleep: got to bed too late, slept for about 8 hours soundly and then dosed for another hour
Eating: just fine
Exercise: dancing last night kicked my ass
The dancing was great. I didn't want the night to end. I stayed out until about 1:30 and didn't get to bed until about 3:00. Today I definitely have a "hangover," not from alcohol, because I don't drink, but from putting out so much energy and staying up so late. I'm feeling a little jittery and scattered mentally. Tonight should be much easier to get to bed at a reasonable time. My sleep this weekend has generally been screwy. I got up early on Saturday morning and went to bed late that night as well, and then yesterday I didn't get up until noon. That's when I got up today too. This doesn't bode well for my mood. I'll have to watch myself and maybe take some extra Seroquel.
I've found some good blogs focused on bipolar out there. Check my blogroll to see what I'm reading. I especially like The Secret Life of a Manic Depressive.
Today's Status Report
Mood: low-mildly elevated, jittery, scattered
Sleep: got to bed too late, slept for about 8 hours soundly and then dosed for another hour
Eating: just fine
Exercise: dancing last night kicked my ass
Sunday, January 24, 2010
First Post
This is the grand opening of my new blog. I was looking around on the Internet (why is it capitalized, by the way?) for blogs about Bipolar disorder and decided to take a shot at it myself. This blog is going to be anonymous because I would like to discuss very private feelings, events, and other things about my life that don't want traced back to me personally.
The title of this blog came from a tee-shirt that I saw online when looking for possible blog titles. It struck me as quite funny with that grain of truth that most good jokes have.
I'm am going to treat this as a personal journal that will be viewed by a public audience. I may discuss mundane things only interesting to myself. I may be coarse; I may swear; I may say things you don't care for. My object for this, I guess, is to give myself a place to write specifically about my mental illness besides my personal journals. As well as a place where others who share some of my experiences or can relate in other ways may respond and share their experience with me. If I never have a reader or get a comment that is fine with me, but I guess some part of me wants that kind of attention and community. The writing on here my be self indulgent, full of self-pity or other forms of self-centeredness. I'm not going to agonize about good writing and editing, but I will try to make it at least readable.
As I compose a collection of bipolar and mental health blogs and websites, I will try to keep a list going on here.
That's all for now. Next time I may give a little background.
Oh yeah. Status check for today:
mood: normal to low normal
sleep last night: bed late, woke late, 10 hours aprox.
eating: healthy enough
exercise: did yesterday, might today or go dancing
meds: fine
The title of this blog came from a tee-shirt that I saw online when looking for possible blog titles. It struck me as quite funny with that grain of truth that most good jokes have.
I'm am going to treat this as a personal journal that will be viewed by a public audience. I may discuss mundane things only interesting to myself. I may be coarse; I may swear; I may say things you don't care for. My object for this, I guess, is to give myself a place to write specifically about my mental illness besides my personal journals. As well as a place where others who share some of my experiences or can relate in other ways may respond and share their experience with me. If I never have a reader or get a comment that is fine with me, but I guess some part of me wants that kind of attention and community. The writing on here my be self indulgent, full of self-pity or other forms of self-centeredness. I'm not going to agonize about good writing and editing, but I will try to make it at least readable.
As I compose a collection of bipolar and mental health blogs and websites, I will try to keep a list going on here.
That's all for now. Next time I may give a little background.
Oh yeah. Status check for today:
mood: normal to low normal
sleep last night: bed late, woke late, 10 hours aprox.
eating: healthy enough
exercise: did yesterday, might today or go dancing
meds: fine
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