Well, I've already written about being depressed, so why not write about being manic?
I have been fortunate to have been relatively stable for the last 3 years or so with only a few minor mood episodes. And definitely not anything lasting for more than a couple of days each time. My past experience has been that episodes of depression or mania last for weeks at a time. I've learned something new. Well, new to me. A manic episode can start and snowball in a matter of 4 days! That was my experience a week ago and it was beyond out of control. The "fun" part lasted two days, I think. Then it progressed to anger, impulsive behavior, and then some, in a matter of hours. I had a brief manic episode back in May but got it under control with the help of my therapist and psychiatrist before it got to the point where I couldn't stop the ball from rolling. But not this time. Last Monday, in a 24 hour period, I got my nose pierced, got my tongue pierced, added a little navy blue coloring to my hair (actually, it doesn't look too bad!), had 14 debit transactions totalling approximately $1000.00, used up a whole tank of gas without leaving town, literally threw away half of my possessions (this was not in a suicidal frame of mind) so that I would have less to clean and organize in my apartment, convincing myself that I was just going to live "simply" from now on. I even pawned some jewelry and electronics for next to nothing for some fast cash. That about covers it, as best as I can remember, or care to admit to, anyways.
After much resistance, I agreed to go to the hospital to get re-established on my medication regime. I was angry. I have not had a psychiatric hospitalization in three years now. For me, that is a record. I know the "nut houses" all too well. Also, this episode was not the result of deciding to say "screw it" with my meds and be my own doctor as has been true of me in the past. After a few restless nights and sleep disturbances that had started weeks ago, I lost track of when I had taken my medications and out of a fear of accidentally taking too much and overdosing, I panicked. By early Tuesday morning, I was frantic and decided that maybe it would be best to get rid of my medications - all of them - even non-psych meds. I have overdosed in the past and although I wasn't suicidal in the least, I was worried that people wouldn't believe me so (and my apologies to the environment, water supply, and raccoons) I threw everything away. Within that 4 day span, I could not recall when my last doses of anything was and I was already going through significant physical withdrawal. I had uncontrollable muscle spasms. I had not slept at all for five days or eaten anything for at least three full days. I was lightheaded. My vision was blurry. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. One minute I was melting, the next I was freezing. I could not physically sit still. My speech was pressured and loud. My thoughts were racing and seemed to me to be like a word-association salad of some sorts. And I was scared and confused.
I am now trying to put the pieces back together. My apartment is a disaster. I still do not know what all I threw away or donated to charities in a flurry of activity. The amount of destruction that took place in just a few short days has left me angry and frustrated with myself. This wasn't supposed to happen anymore. But it did. And it may again some day. I can't worry about that. I do not know what tomorrow or the next day will bring. I have friends who also have bipolar disorder who have been stable for more than ten years. They still tell me that they do not know what the next day holds in store for them either. The course the illness takes is different for each person with this diagnosis. It is not very predictable and there are no guarantees. Now, one week later, my sleeping is getting back on track. My thoughts are coherent and cohesive. I can sit still. I am grateful to be coming out of this "mess" now. Although I did some out of control things, it is nothing that can't be straightened out with time. I stayed sober through this. That in itself is a miracle. I did not hurt anyone else or myself. That is a miracle. I have many friends who were there for me, saw the worst of it, went above and beyond to help me get to the hospital, take care of my cats....and loved me through it all. They reassured me that everything was going to be okay and they did not leave me to struggle on my own. They answered the phone each time I called, they listened, they cared. I so desperately needed that.
This isn't something I have ever shared much about. I have spent so much time trying to "think" my way out of having bipolar disorder. Unfortunately, more than 8 college and graduate school courses in psychology did not make me immune to this disorder. I still struggle to see this as a "legitimate" problem, because I'm smart. And I'm smart. And I'm smart dammit! Well, smart or not, I need to acknowledge that this is a significant part of my life story. There is still so much stigma attached to having a mental illness. How can I expect that to change if I continue to walk around, ashamed to admit that I do have a mental illness? I am finally realizing that it is only a part of who I am. It will not define me unless I let it. So, now you know, perhaps more than you wanted to. God bless you if you are still reading this. My reasons for sharing are a bit selfish. It is therapeutic for me and it is an act of acknowledging what I am working so hard to adapt to. Today, it doesn't have to kill me. I don't have to "fix" myself, for that implies that I am broken. My attitude has switched from curing to coping and living my life fully. That is perhaps the greatest miracle of all!
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Maybe I'm Just Blind...
Please bear with me. I'm very tired but I felt like I needed to write a follow up to my posting from about 12 hours ago. If you have read that entry, well, you know that I have found myself in a very dark place, a very lonely place, a place that finds me unsettled. But, just as all of my friends have assured me, God will find me, even when I'm lost - literally lost!
Earlier this afternoon, after some rather emotional conversations with dear friends, I decided that rather than going home, I'd go to the park for a little while and just enjoy breathing in the fresh air. My first thought was to go to Columbian Park. I definitely know where that is. Then I thought to myself, no, I'll go to Happy Hollow Park. I'm 97% sure where that is. And then it hit me. I wanted to go back to Earl Park, to a place I would go with one of my closest friends a little over 12 years ago when I wanted to sit back and enjoy God's creation. I was 85% sure I could find "our spot" again. So, I headed out, set the cruise, cranked up the music and started my journey to a place that is about 30-35 miles west of Lafayette (I think?). When I saw the sign for Earl Park, I made my turn off of US 52. And I didn't recognize anything at all. But I was still sure that I could find my way there because I found it in 1999. I mean, come on, how hard could it be? I'm a smart girl! I started down a road that led to another road that led to another road that dead-ended at a corn field. The road just stopped. There was a cornfield to my left, a cornfield in front of me, and some water to my right (a branch of the Wabash? a stream? No clue.) I had been driving for about an hour. Far enough away to cross into another time zone and there I was, in a field. No bathroom in sight. I forgot to go before I started out because the place that I was trying to find had a bathroom. And now...I had a little problem.
I got out of the van which I parked at the edge of the field and started for the corn. Even though I was somewhere, in the middle of nowhere, west of Swarmington, Indiana, I started wondering if I should roll up the windows and lock the car before wandering off. Because my iPod was laying on the front seat. And maybe, just maybe, someone could be lurking behind those dried out corn stalks, waiting for their opportunity to snatch up a free iPod. Didn't think about that for too long because...I had a more pressing issue. I walked far enough into the field that I was pretty sure I couldn't be seen from the road and yet I could still see my van. And I had a dilemma. Many know that I'm just a little particular when it comes to restroom facilities. I won't even use an outhouse or Porto-potty. But I had to go. Sorry for any visuals this creates, but I've already bared my soul so...I kicked off my flip flops. And lost the pants and the pink boy-shorts. I balled everything up and tossed it a good 10 feet away so nothing would get wet. I figured out how to stand so that I wouldn't pee on my legs because that would just be gross. And after a few minutes spent convincing my body that it was OK to let go, I...yeah. Putting my pants back on was more of a challenge because I can't balance at all on my right leg. And yes, the surgeon did mention something about having difficulty walking on grass. He didn't say anything about cornfields but he probably didn't think he should have had to. Dried up corn stalks are not very sturdy for those city folk friends of mine. So I grabbed onto three of them and bunched them up to make one strong one to hold onto while I worked my way back into my pants. Got my shoes on, headed back to the car. The car keys were not in my pocket. I had to go back to find them, somewhere in the vicinity of where I marked my territory. Found them. When I turned around, I noticed that there were a couple of logs floating in the water. There had to be at least 20 turtles sunning themselves on the logs. And I had to smile. If you've noticed, my blog picture is of a turtle, sitting on a log, in the water. I do not believe that that was a coincidence.
I started out on a journey to find something, anything to bring just a little bit of peace to my heart. I thought I knew where I was headed. And I got lost. Maybe it's hard to find what you're looking for when you're straining so hard to see something you want to see? I thought I needed to be at Earl Park. God thought I needed to be lost amongst the fields somewhere in rural Indiana, next to a couple of logs floating in the water, and the turtles basking in the sunlight. I was out there, wandering around, lost and a bit nervous about my ability to find my way out of there, and God found me. He came out there after me, turned me towards the sun, and said "Here I am, silly girl!" As I got back in the car to leave, I noticed that the leaves had changed colors. Yellow, auburn, violet, orange, brown. I hadn't even realized that they had changed colors, even though fall has always been my favorite time of the year. If I hadn't gone searching for something to restore my hope, I would probably not have noticed that the leaves were brilliant in the sunlight. I do believe that I could have laid down and fallen asleep right there in the corn field. I immediately felt the tremendous load I've been trying to carry lifted off of my shoulders and I felt light, free, loved. I felt peace. I turned the music off for the ride home. I let my hand hang out of the window and felt the breeze blowing through my hair (I haven't had hair long enough to blow in the breeze since 1997!) and I could breathe. I could breathe!. And I know now that I am going to be OK. I'm going to be more than OK. I'm going to be able to start moving forward again.
As I entered back into the West Lafayette city limits, I turned on the radio. This is what I heard:
"Somewhere in this darkness
There's a light that I can't find
Maybe it's too far away...
Or maybe I'm just blind."
The next verse starts like this:
"So hold me when I'm here
Right me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared
And love me when I'm gone
Everything I am
And everything in me
Wants to be the one
You wanted me to be"
Even though I was "gone" for a while, quiet a while, God kept looking for me and when I was so sure that I was lost, he found me and he led me home.
I debated about sharing this experience, worried that I wouldn't be able to convey what I felt this afternoon. I had even briefly lamented that I didn't think to bring my camera to take pictures. No picture could have captured what was laid out before me. And I don't need a picture to hang on the wall in my living room because I have it wrapped around my heart.
Thanks for not giving up on me, God. And thanks for bringing back my smile. (Not sure I'm so thankful about the peeing in the field, but maybe that was a good thing too!)
And the song was "When I'm Gone" by 3 Doors Down. Funny thing is that although I've heard this song many, many times, and liked it, it was not on my iPod. It will be soon.
Thank you friends for your patience, love, and understanding. And for believing God wouldn't walk away from me, even though I couldn't seem to find him.
Earlier this afternoon, after some rather emotional conversations with dear friends, I decided that rather than going home, I'd go to the park for a little while and just enjoy breathing in the fresh air. My first thought was to go to Columbian Park. I definitely know where that is. Then I thought to myself, no, I'll go to Happy Hollow Park. I'm 97% sure where that is. And then it hit me. I wanted to go back to Earl Park, to a place I would go with one of my closest friends a little over 12 years ago when I wanted to sit back and enjoy God's creation. I was 85% sure I could find "our spot" again. So, I headed out, set the cruise, cranked up the music and started my journey to a place that is about 30-35 miles west of Lafayette (I think?). When I saw the sign for Earl Park, I made my turn off of US 52. And I didn't recognize anything at all. But I was still sure that I could find my way there because I found it in 1999. I mean, come on, how hard could it be? I'm a smart girl! I started down a road that led to another road that led to another road that dead-ended at a corn field. The road just stopped. There was a cornfield to my left, a cornfield in front of me, and some water to my right (a branch of the Wabash? a stream? No clue.) I had been driving for about an hour. Far enough away to cross into another time zone and there I was, in a field. No bathroom in sight. I forgot to go before I started out because the place that I was trying to find had a bathroom. And now...I had a little problem.
I got out of the van which I parked at the edge of the field and started for the corn. Even though I was somewhere, in the middle of nowhere, west of Swarmington, Indiana, I started wondering if I should roll up the windows and lock the car before wandering off. Because my iPod was laying on the front seat. And maybe, just maybe, someone could be lurking behind those dried out corn stalks, waiting for their opportunity to snatch up a free iPod. Didn't think about that for too long because...I had a more pressing issue. I walked far enough into the field that I was pretty sure I couldn't be seen from the road and yet I could still see my van. And I had a dilemma. Many know that I'm just a little particular when it comes to restroom facilities. I won't even use an outhouse or Porto-potty. But I had to go. Sorry for any visuals this creates, but I've already bared my soul so...I kicked off my flip flops. And lost the pants and the pink boy-shorts. I balled everything up and tossed it a good 10 feet away so nothing would get wet. I figured out how to stand so that I wouldn't pee on my legs because that would just be gross. And after a few minutes spent convincing my body that it was OK to let go, I...yeah. Putting my pants back on was more of a challenge because I can't balance at all on my right leg. And yes, the surgeon did mention something about having difficulty walking on grass. He didn't say anything about cornfields but he probably didn't think he should have had to. Dried up corn stalks are not very sturdy for those city folk friends of mine. So I grabbed onto three of them and bunched them up to make one strong one to hold onto while I worked my way back into my pants. Got my shoes on, headed back to the car. The car keys were not in my pocket. I had to go back to find them, somewhere in the vicinity of where I marked my territory. Found them. When I turned around, I noticed that there were a couple of logs floating in the water. There had to be at least 20 turtles sunning themselves on the logs. And I had to smile. If you've noticed, my blog picture is of a turtle, sitting on a log, in the water. I do not believe that that was a coincidence.
I started out on a journey to find something, anything to bring just a little bit of peace to my heart. I thought I knew where I was headed. And I got lost. Maybe it's hard to find what you're looking for when you're straining so hard to see something you want to see? I thought I needed to be at Earl Park. God thought I needed to be lost amongst the fields somewhere in rural Indiana, next to a couple of logs floating in the water, and the turtles basking in the sunlight. I was out there, wandering around, lost and a bit nervous about my ability to find my way out of there, and God found me. He came out there after me, turned me towards the sun, and said "Here I am, silly girl!" As I got back in the car to leave, I noticed that the leaves had changed colors. Yellow, auburn, violet, orange, brown. I hadn't even realized that they had changed colors, even though fall has always been my favorite time of the year. If I hadn't gone searching for something to restore my hope, I would probably not have noticed that the leaves were brilliant in the sunlight. I do believe that I could have laid down and fallen asleep right there in the corn field. I immediately felt the tremendous load I've been trying to carry lifted off of my shoulders and I felt light, free, loved. I felt peace. I turned the music off for the ride home. I let my hand hang out of the window and felt the breeze blowing through my hair (I haven't had hair long enough to blow in the breeze since 1997!) and I could breathe. I could breathe!. And I know now that I am going to be OK. I'm going to be more than OK. I'm going to be able to start moving forward again.
As I entered back into the West Lafayette city limits, I turned on the radio. This is what I heard:
"Somewhere in this darkness
There's a light that I can't find
Maybe it's too far away...
Or maybe I'm just blind."
The next verse starts like this:
"So hold me when I'm here
Right me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared
And love me when I'm gone
Everything I am
And everything in me
Wants to be the one
You wanted me to be"
Even though I was "gone" for a while, quiet a while, God kept looking for me and when I was so sure that I was lost, he found me and he led me home.
I debated about sharing this experience, worried that I wouldn't be able to convey what I felt this afternoon. I had even briefly lamented that I didn't think to bring my camera to take pictures. No picture could have captured what was laid out before me. And I don't need a picture to hang on the wall in my living room because I have it wrapped around my heart.
Thanks for not giving up on me, God. And thanks for bringing back my smile. (Not sure I'm so thankful about the peeing in the field, but maybe that was a good thing too!)
And the song was "When I'm Gone" by 3 Doors Down. Funny thing is that although I've heard this song many, many times, and liked it, it was not on my iPod. It will be soon.
Thank you friends for your patience, love, and understanding. And for believing God wouldn't walk away from me, even though I couldn't seem to find him.
God Won't Give Me More Than I Can Handle? I Beg To Differ...
So, here I am. Sitting in front of the computer at 2:59 a.m. I say that so you will know when I actually wrote this entry because blog spot never publishes an accurate time. Maybe it's the time zone setting? I don't know. And I do not care to know.
It's been several weeks since my last posting. Since I had already written about my recent struggles with depression, I thought I'd wait until I was feeling peppy again. Well, I'm still waiting for that peppiness to return and I figure that if I sit around waiting to feel better before writing something new, I may never write again.
Those closest to me know that the past 12 months have been very difficult for me, especially with regards to my physical well-being. I've been to the ER 13 times, had a 4 day medical stay, a hysterectomy, gallbladder removed, hand surgery to repair a damaged blood vessel and remove a clot, and an ankle fusion and tibial bone graft. I have had x-rays, CT scans (with and without IV contrast dye), MRI's, ultrasounds, upper GI scopes, a colonoscopy, a biopsy...yeah, I think that covers most of it. And lots and lots of blood work. I don't know how they expect my blood count to stay where it is supposed to be when they keep taking tube after tube after tube of blood. After each "situation" seems to be resolved and I feel like I'm getting back up on my feet, I get leveled by another earthquake, followed by sometimes more severe aftershocks. Each time, I have crawled out of the rubble, brushed myself off, and started moving forward again. But life keeps throwing punches my way. I have also dealt with some significant family relationship stress, attended the funeral of a friend's 21 year old son, and been notified that my prescription drug benefits are being cut effective November 1. And that is what has happened in the last 10 days. I started the appeal process for my health benefits and my appeal was denied. I spent 3 hours yesterday morning at the Social Security office and the Medicaid office. I then spent 1 1/2 more hours on the phone in the afternoon trying to get answers. Well, no one has them. I don't know how many times my calls were transferred. Each person said the issue was not with their agency or department and when I called who they told me to call, I got the same answer. I have had to fight for my benefits for 2010 and 2011. Each time, it took approximately 5 months to resolve the issue and constant phone calls and trips to meet with someone, anyone, in person. Well, I do not have the energy to go through that process again. Not right now. I am physically exhausted. I am mentally exhausted. I am emotionally exhausted. And I do not feel God's hands holding my heart.
Some of my medical issues are greatly exasperated by stress. I have medications to treat the symptoms but the problem will not be resolved until my stress level is under control. I have been praying, reading daily devotionals and meditations, and praying, and talking to friends, and praying, and going for walks, and praying, and taking bubble baths, and praying, and petting my kitties, and praying, and watching funny movies, and praying, and making a list of what I am grateful for and listing my blessings each day, and praying.....and I am barely hanging on. I have forgotten when the last night I got some sleep was. I haven't been able to keep food down again since Tuesday evening. I lost track of the days and so my bills got paid late for the first time in a year. I don't even remember when I last fed my cats. They were meowing rather loudly so I ventured into the kitchen to find their food bowl empty and water bowls dry. I feed them twice a day. And as I stood there, I could not recall if I had fed them that morning or if they have been without for a day or more. I'm putting part of that on them however (perhaps as a way of trying to alleviate guilt) because their food bag is sitting on the kitchen floor, open, and they haven't helped themselves. Every other cat I've ever had has always gotten into the food or chewed holes in the bag if it's been left out, even if their bowls were full. So I'm trying to decide if my cats are stupid or lazy. Either way, it doesn't matter. I'm not being a very good kitty momma.
I know that I can count on my friends for support and guidance. But at least for me, right now, I am not comforted by their words. Acceptance. Letting go. Doing the next right thing. Pray more. This too shall pass. And God doesn't give us more than we can handle. I do know that what I'm going through won't last forever. Nothing does. I know that there are many others facing some of these same struggles and then some. I'm not proclaiming that I have the worst life out of anyone on the planet. And I don't expect life to be rainbows and butterflies all of the time. But knowing that doesn't take the heartache away. A little bit ago I was sitting out on the patio looking up at the stars. Tonight, the sky is clear. I must not be looking far enough or hard enough because I still can't see God. And I don't feel him. And I am afraid. This is more than I can handle. There is no more "oomph" inside me. Since I'm not able to move forward, I'm just trying to hang on tight enough that I don't fall behind.
And I keep praying, even if I don't think God can hear me.
It's been several weeks since my last posting. Since I had already written about my recent struggles with depression, I thought I'd wait until I was feeling peppy again. Well, I'm still waiting for that peppiness to return and I figure that if I sit around waiting to feel better before writing something new, I may never write again.
Those closest to me know that the past 12 months have been very difficult for me, especially with regards to my physical well-being. I've been to the ER 13 times, had a 4 day medical stay, a hysterectomy, gallbladder removed, hand surgery to repair a damaged blood vessel and remove a clot, and an ankle fusion and tibial bone graft. I have had x-rays, CT scans (with and without IV contrast dye), MRI's, ultrasounds, upper GI scopes, a colonoscopy, a biopsy...yeah, I think that covers most of it. And lots and lots of blood work. I don't know how they expect my blood count to stay where it is supposed to be when they keep taking tube after tube after tube of blood. After each "situation" seems to be resolved and I feel like I'm getting back up on my feet, I get leveled by another earthquake, followed by sometimes more severe aftershocks. Each time, I have crawled out of the rubble, brushed myself off, and started moving forward again. But life keeps throwing punches my way. I have also dealt with some significant family relationship stress, attended the funeral of a friend's 21 year old son, and been notified that my prescription drug benefits are being cut effective November 1. And that is what has happened in the last 10 days. I started the appeal process for my health benefits and my appeal was denied. I spent 3 hours yesterday morning at the Social Security office and the Medicaid office. I then spent 1 1/2 more hours on the phone in the afternoon trying to get answers. Well, no one has them. I don't know how many times my calls were transferred. Each person said the issue was not with their agency or department and when I called who they told me to call, I got the same answer. I have had to fight for my benefits for 2010 and 2011. Each time, it took approximately 5 months to resolve the issue and constant phone calls and trips to meet with someone, anyone, in person. Well, I do not have the energy to go through that process again. Not right now. I am physically exhausted. I am mentally exhausted. I am emotionally exhausted. And I do not feel God's hands holding my heart.
Some of my medical issues are greatly exasperated by stress. I have medications to treat the symptoms but the problem will not be resolved until my stress level is under control. I have been praying, reading daily devotionals and meditations, and praying, and talking to friends, and praying, and going for walks, and praying, and taking bubble baths, and praying, and petting my kitties, and praying, and watching funny movies, and praying, and making a list of what I am grateful for and listing my blessings each day, and praying.....and I am barely hanging on. I have forgotten when the last night I got some sleep was. I haven't been able to keep food down again since Tuesday evening. I lost track of the days and so my bills got paid late for the first time in a year. I don't even remember when I last fed my cats. They were meowing rather loudly so I ventured into the kitchen to find their food bowl empty and water bowls dry. I feed them twice a day. And as I stood there, I could not recall if I had fed them that morning or if they have been without for a day or more. I'm putting part of that on them however (perhaps as a way of trying to alleviate guilt) because their food bag is sitting on the kitchen floor, open, and they haven't helped themselves. Every other cat I've ever had has always gotten into the food or chewed holes in the bag if it's been left out, even if their bowls were full. So I'm trying to decide if my cats are stupid or lazy. Either way, it doesn't matter. I'm not being a very good kitty momma.
I know that I can count on my friends for support and guidance. But at least for me, right now, I am not comforted by their words. Acceptance. Letting go. Doing the next right thing. Pray more. This too shall pass. And God doesn't give us more than we can handle. I do know that what I'm going through won't last forever. Nothing does. I know that there are many others facing some of these same struggles and then some. I'm not proclaiming that I have the worst life out of anyone on the planet. And I don't expect life to be rainbows and butterflies all of the time. But knowing that doesn't take the heartache away. A little bit ago I was sitting out on the patio looking up at the stars. Tonight, the sky is clear. I must not be looking far enough or hard enough because I still can't see God. And I don't feel him. And I am afraid. This is more than I can handle. There is no more "oomph" inside me. Since I'm not able to move forward, I'm just trying to hang on tight enough that I don't fall behind.
And I keep praying, even if I don't think God can hear me.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Name That Tune # 2
My iPod is definitely getting a workout since I decided to cancel my cable service over a month ago! I just snap it onto the iPod dock on my stereo and let it shuffle through my favorites. The song striking my fancy the past couple of days? Here's the lyric:
"You're just an empty cage girl if you kill the bird."
I must admit that I've been feeling a lot like an "empty cage" lately. I have been spending way too much time bouncing back and forth in my mind, looking for the answers to any number of problems that I am facing today. If I could just think hard enough and long enough, I am sure that I would be able to figure out why my GI system is not cooperating. I could figure out why there seems to be a little "snafu" with regards to my ankle healing after surgery, especially since from an orthopedic standpoint, I was doing better than expected. I could figure out why I am having difficulty with some of my interpersonal relationships. I think I should be able to figure out why, why, why. I mean, why not?
Why not? Because I am looking in the wrong place for answers. I could spend the rest of my life driving myself crazy with thinking and more thinking. I keep forgetting that I will get exactly what I need from God, if I allow Him to be in charge of my life. I wish that I could say that I am very dedicated to regular prayer and meditation. I'm not. I get busy with my day, the time flies by, and I'm too tired at night. What? Those aren't good excuses? No, they are not. I am finding that I need to make a more conscientious effort to incorporate prayer into my daily routine. A couple of things I have learned are that I can engage in prayer any time of the day, anywhere I am. And I have learned that time spent in prayer and quiet reflection (where I am listening to God, rather than talking at God) leaves me with a sense of inner peace and calm. I do not really need to have all of the answers. I just want them sometimes. If I keep spinning my wheels over things that I have no control over, I end up feeling very empty and alone. If I want my cage to be full of life, I need to allow God's spirit and the love of those around me to feed my bird...
The song? "Crucify" - Tori Amos, album "These Little Earthquakes"
"You're just an empty cage girl if you kill the bird."
I must admit that I've been feeling a lot like an "empty cage" lately. I have been spending way too much time bouncing back and forth in my mind, looking for the answers to any number of problems that I am facing today. If I could just think hard enough and long enough, I am sure that I would be able to figure out why my GI system is not cooperating. I could figure out why there seems to be a little "snafu" with regards to my ankle healing after surgery, especially since from an orthopedic standpoint, I was doing better than expected. I could figure out why I am having difficulty with some of my interpersonal relationships. I think I should be able to figure out why, why, why. I mean, why not?
Why not? Because I am looking in the wrong place for answers. I could spend the rest of my life driving myself crazy with thinking and more thinking. I keep forgetting that I will get exactly what I need from God, if I allow Him to be in charge of my life. I wish that I could say that I am very dedicated to regular prayer and meditation. I'm not. I get busy with my day, the time flies by, and I'm too tired at night. What? Those aren't good excuses? No, they are not. I am finding that I need to make a more conscientious effort to incorporate prayer into my daily routine. A couple of things I have learned are that I can engage in prayer any time of the day, anywhere I am. And I have learned that time spent in prayer and quiet reflection (where I am listening to God, rather than talking at God) leaves me with a sense of inner peace and calm. I do not really need to have all of the answers. I just want them sometimes. If I keep spinning my wheels over things that I have no control over, I end up feeling very empty and alone. If I want my cage to be full of life, I need to allow God's spirit and the love of those around me to feed my bird...
The song? "Crucify" - Tori Amos, album "These Little Earthquakes"
Monday, September 12, 2011
Darker Days
It's been a little while since I've posted something new. I have been going back and forth in my mind whether or not to post an entry reflecting the "darker" side of me. I came to the conclusion that I wanted to go ahead and publish an entry, even though it is not the type of posting that I have been doing thus far.
As many of my close friends and family know, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder back in 1998. Over the past 13 years, it has been a struggle to find the right combination of medications to keep me "stable". Most of the time, I have found that many different combinations of mood stabilizers, anti-depressants, and anti-psychotic medications would work for about a year or so and then stop working for me and my symptoms return. That has been one of the most frustrating things about my experiences with treatment. I have been fortunate to have spent the last two and a half years on the same medications without needing any adjustments, and have been the most stable that I've probably ever been since being diagnosed. I've had a couple of short lived manic episodes during that time, but didn't suffer too many negative consequences, definitely nothing compared to what I have had to deal with in the past.
However, I am now in the midst of a period of pretty significant depression that has been gaining momentum for about six weeks now. I was hoping that perhaps it was due to my having to deal with many serious health issues over the past year. I was hoping that now that I have been able to get out of the house and walk again after my ankle fusion surgery back in June, I would feel better again. But my mood is not lifting. Once again I am facing day after day not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to eat, not wanting to be around people, crying often, and other symptoms too numerous to mention. I do not like feeling this way and I am frustrated that I will have to continue to deal with managing my bipolar disorder throughout the rest of my life. I saw my psychiatrist this morning and she decided to do a little "tweaking" of my medications to see if this can be resolved. I hope that it does lift soon. Depression is not only mentally and emotionally draining, it is physically draining as well. There are times when it feels like it takes 72 hours to move from Monday to Tuesday and time just drags on and on.
The good thing is that I have learned to identify changes in my moods which lead me to manic or depressive episodes. I have learned from experience that I can ride through the darkest of days and make it through to the other side. Going to a bipolar support group and having a few close friends who also have this disorder has been a tremendous help to me. I have finally realized that there is always hope as long as I continue to do the next right thing, see my psychiatrist, my therapist, and strictly follow my medication regimen. Today, I am grateful that my depression is not leaving me feeling hopeless and helpless or even suicidal. That is progress. It was not too many years ago where I wouldn't have been able to say this or believed that things would improve. I try to remember that it is always darkest before the dawn. And I have learned that it is OK to share when I'm struggling. No one's life is always good or always bad. If I only share when I'm doing well, I am not being true to myself and I am cutting off friends and family who are there to support me. So, I will continue to hang on, trudging through the "muck" and allowing others to help me through. I no longer feel that this is something that I have to face alone.
As many of my close friends and family know, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder back in 1998. Over the past 13 years, it has been a struggle to find the right combination of medications to keep me "stable". Most of the time, I have found that many different combinations of mood stabilizers, anti-depressants, and anti-psychotic medications would work for about a year or so and then stop working for me and my symptoms return. That has been one of the most frustrating things about my experiences with treatment. I have been fortunate to have spent the last two and a half years on the same medications without needing any adjustments, and have been the most stable that I've probably ever been since being diagnosed. I've had a couple of short lived manic episodes during that time, but didn't suffer too many negative consequences, definitely nothing compared to what I have had to deal with in the past.
However, I am now in the midst of a period of pretty significant depression that has been gaining momentum for about six weeks now. I was hoping that perhaps it was due to my having to deal with many serious health issues over the past year. I was hoping that now that I have been able to get out of the house and walk again after my ankle fusion surgery back in June, I would feel better again. But my mood is not lifting. Once again I am facing day after day not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to eat, not wanting to be around people, crying often, and other symptoms too numerous to mention. I do not like feeling this way and I am frustrated that I will have to continue to deal with managing my bipolar disorder throughout the rest of my life. I saw my psychiatrist this morning and she decided to do a little "tweaking" of my medications to see if this can be resolved. I hope that it does lift soon. Depression is not only mentally and emotionally draining, it is physically draining as well. There are times when it feels like it takes 72 hours to move from Monday to Tuesday and time just drags on and on.
The good thing is that I have learned to identify changes in my moods which lead me to manic or depressive episodes. I have learned from experience that I can ride through the darkest of days and make it through to the other side. Going to a bipolar support group and having a few close friends who also have this disorder has been a tremendous help to me. I have finally realized that there is always hope as long as I continue to do the next right thing, see my psychiatrist, my therapist, and strictly follow my medication regimen. Today, I am grateful that my depression is not leaving me feeling hopeless and helpless or even suicidal. That is progress. It was not too many years ago where I wouldn't have been able to say this or believed that things would improve. I try to remember that it is always darkest before the dawn. And I have learned that it is OK to share when I'm struggling. No one's life is always good or always bad. If I only share when I'm doing well, I am not being true to myself and I am cutting off friends and family who are there to support me. So, I will continue to hang on, trudging through the "muck" and allowing others to help me through. I no longer feel that this is something that I have to face alone.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
It Pays to Follow Directions
I'm not always very good at following directions. It's not because I can't read them. It's not because I can't understand them. It's because I think that I already know what they are going to say and that I probably don't need to even bother looking at them or listening to them because I'm intelligent, and therefore I'm surely capable of figuring things out by myself! Over the past 20 years, I have assembled at least a dozen bookcases, shelving units, a couple of entertainment centers, a stereo stand, and a computer desk or two. You know the kind made of some sort of particle board painted to look like something much fancier and more expensive than it really is. I've found that they are all pretty much the same. So when I bought a cabinet with doors to serve as my pantry in my apartment several months ago, I figured it would be a piece of cake and that I'd have the thing assembled in about an hour and a half. I started screwing the shelves in after attaching the top of the cabinet. I then attached the bottom shelf, flipped the thing over, and tacked on the flimsy cardboard backing which miraculously holds the whole unit together. Then came the time to put on the doors. I had the hinges. I had the right screws. But I couldn't seem to make them fit. Somehow, the holes were not where they were supposed to be. I kept trying to make it work out. I tried for half an hour, growing more and more frustrated and shouting expletives at the top of my lungs. So, after reaching my boiling point, I pulled out the instructions only to discover that I had managed to screw the left side of the unit where the right side should have been. They looked the same to me. On closer observation, I discovered that the left and right sides were the same, except for where the holes for the hinges on the doors were located. I had reversed them. The only way to make it work would be to disassemble the entire unit, which I couldn't do even if I wanted to since I had already tacked on the back. I thought about having my dad drill new holes on the sides so that I could make the hinges work. Wasn't going to happen because with the shelves already in place, the drill could not reach where the new holes needed to be drilled. So...my pantry has no doors. It looks just like a bookshelf. But it cost more than a bookshelf would have. I could have saved myself some time and money by going the cheaper route and just buying a bookshelf. Crap!
I think I have learned my lesson. At least for now. I recently had surgery to fuse my right ankle on June 21, 2011. This was a "follow-up" surgery to having a titanium plate and steel screws put into my right foot and ankle after shattering my heel in an automobile accident in May 1997. After this most recent surgery, I was in a cast. I was instructed to put no weight on my foot whatsoever and to keep my right foot elevated up above the level of my heart, 23 hours a day, for 6 whole weeks! After the first week or so I had had it. It took everything I had in me to strictly adhere to these directions. By the end of the 6 weeks, my x-rays showed that I was ahead of schedule in the healing process and so I got to bypass phase two, which would have been a walking cast and partial weight bearing, and move on to the "boot" and putting my full weight on my foot as tolerated. I was thrilled because this meant that I could take the boot off and shave my leg again. I could bathe it and put lotion on it. I could take it off to wiggle my ankle and my toes several times a day. But, I still had to sleep in that thing. And I was not to even think about trying to walk on that foot without the boot. I tried to sleep in my bed a couple of times but it wasn't working out as I had to lift my entire leg in the air in order to roll over and because my ankle was fixed at a ninety degree angle, I couldn't comfortably sleep on my side or my stomach. I have never been able to sleep on my back. So, it was back to sleeping in the recliner for 4 more weeks. As tempting as it was for me to "cheat" and take the boot off at night to sleep, I didn't do it. I continued to follow the doctor's directions.
Today was my 10 week post surgical checkup. This time, the x-rays showed that the ankle was completely healed and there were no indications of any adhesions or scar tissue. When the doctor moved my ankle around, it had a little more movement than he expected. And there was no pain when he stretched it, bent it, poked it...Great news! No more boot for me! My surgery was a great success and I am now able to wear shoes again, even flip flops! I can go barefoot in the house and on the grass. I can step into and out of the shower. I can sit in a chair without propping my leg up on a stack of 4 pillows. I get to sleep in my own bed tonight! What was anticipated to be a 3 to 4 month recovery period turned out to be a 10 week recovery. And it was in large part due to the fact that I carefully followed all of the doctor's directions to the letter, day in and day out, no matter how badly I wanted to cheat a little. After all, I have a Master's degree in Occupational Therapy so I do know a little something about orthopedic surgery, recovery, pain management, the use of assistive devices for walking and bathing and toileting. Thank God I didn't assume that what I knew would be enough to get me through the healing process without following the doctor's directions! There is a young teenage girl who had the exact same surgery that I had, on the same day. I would see her at his office every 3 weeks for follow-up visits. She had not followed the directions. Because it didn't hurt "too much", she assumed that it would be OK to go ahead and put some weight on her foot, as long as she was still using the crutches. Her ankle was not healing at all like it should be. She is facing the possibility of having to have the surgery redone and starting the whole process all over again. All because she didn't follow the directions.
Perhaps I have learned something after all. Perhaps because my latest attempt at doing something without looking at the directions had failed, I have become more willing to look and listen to the instructions provided by those who know a little more about assembling a pantry properly or allowing the body to heal after a major surgery. I am so grateful that I followed the directions this time, even though I didn't want to, because it has paid off in the end. Now, I can enjoy what's left of summer, strolling around in my favorite Sketchers flip flops and painting my toenails. I think I'm going to buy a new toe ring to celebrate!
I think I have learned my lesson. At least for now. I recently had surgery to fuse my right ankle on June 21, 2011. This was a "follow-up" surgery to having a titanium plate and steel screws put into my right foot and ankle after shattering my heel in an automobile accident in May 1997. After this most recent surgery, I was in a cast. I was instructed to put no weight on my foot whatsoever and to keep my right foot elevated up above the level of my heart, 23 hours a day, for 6 whole weeks! After the first week or so I had had it. It took everything I had in me to strictly adhere to these directions. By the end of the 6 weeks, my x-rays showed that I was ahead of schedule in the healing process and so I got to bypass phase two, which would have been a walking cast and partial weight bearing, and move on to the "boot" and putting my full weight on my foot as tolerated. I was thrilled because this meant that I could take the boot off and shave my leg again. I could bathe it and put lotion on it. I could take it off to wiggle my ankle and my toes several times a day. But, I still had to sleep in that thing. And I was not to even think about trying to walk on that foot without the boot. I tried to sleep in my bed a couple of times but it wasn't working out as I had to lift my entire leg in the air in order to roll over and because my ankle was fixed at a ninety degree angle, I couldn't comfortably sleep on my side or my stomach. I have never been able to sleep on my back. So, it was back to sleeping in the recliner for 4 more weeks. As tempting as it was for me to "cheat" and take the boot off at night to sleep, I didn't do it. I continued to follow the doctor's directions.
Today was my 10 week post surgical checkup. This time, the x-rays showed that the ankle was completely healed and there were no indications of any adhesions or scar tissue. When the doctor moved my ankle around, it had a little more movement than he expected. And there was no pain when he stretched it, bent it, poked it...Great news! No more boot for me! My surgery was a great success and I am now able to wear shoes again, even flip flops! I can go barefoot in the house and on the grass. I can step into and out of the shower. I can sit in a chair without propping my leg up on a stack of 4 pillows. I get to sleep in my own bed tonight! What was anticipated to be a 3 to 4 month recovery period turned out to be a 10 week recovery. And it was in large part due to the fact that I carefully followed all of the doctor's directions to the letter, day in and day out, no matter how badly I wanted to cheat a little. After all, I have a Master's degree in Occupational Therapy so I do know a little something about orthopedic surgery, recovery, pain management, the use of assistive devices for walking and bathing and toileting. Thank God I didn't assume that what I knew would be enough to get me through the healing process without following the doctor's directions! There is a young teenage girl who had the exact same surgery that I had, on the same day. I would see her at his office every 3 weeks for follow-up visits. She had not followed the directions. Because it didn't hurt "too much", she assumed that it would be OK to go ahead and put some weight on her foot, as long as she was still using the crutches. Her ankle was not healing at all like it should be. She is facing the possibility of having to have the surgery redone and starting the whole process all over again. All because she didn't follow the directions.
Perhaps I have learned something after all. Perhaps because my latest attempt at doing something without looking at the directions had failed, I have become more willing to look and listen to the instructions provided by those who know a little more about assembling a pantry properly or allowing the body to heal after a major surgery. I am so grateful that I followed the directions this time, even though I didn't want to, because it has paid off in the end. Now, I can enjoy what's left of summer, strolling around in my favorite Sketchers flip flops and painting my toenails. I think I'm going to buy a new toe ring to celebrate!
Friday, August 19, 2011
Unplugged
I am trying something new to me. I am giving up my cable and Internet services at my apartment for the next three months. Throughout my recovery period following my latest surgery, I became acutely aware of how many hours of television I was watching and how much time I was spending on Facebook, playing FarmVille and Penguin Toss. I also realized that I had been doing this before all of my surgeries took place. I have continued to surf channels even when I couldn't seem to find anything I wanted to watch and then would end up watching re-runs of "Law and Order" that I have seen at least half a dozen times. It never occurred to me to turn off the TV and pick up a book to read. It never occurred to me to listen to music that I enjoy. It never occurred to me to pick up my crocheting or work on my writing. Immediately following my surgery, I made grandiose plans of all that I could accomplish while I was laid up. I was going to devote those six to eight weeks to writing, reading, and working on any of a number of craft projects that I have started but never finished. Well, none of that happened. The first two weeks were focused on managing my pain and resting, which was necessary and the most important thing to be doing at that time. As for the rest of the time, the issue was not my inability to do these things. It was a matter of laziness. It was so much easier to sit and push buttons on a remote than turn on a lamp and open one of my books. It would take too much effort to grab my yarn and pick up my crocheting hook. So, I continued to watch TV, sometimes up to 15 hours a day. Now that is insane! I felt lethargic and like my mind was turning to mush. I was suddenly painfully aware how much I have missed doing so many of the things that I love to do.
Part of my motivation to give up my cable and Internet was driven by my financial limitations as the medical bills from my four surgeries keep coming in. But the more I thought about it, I was feeling drawn to return to activities that I enjoy and that stimulate my mind. So far, I have "done without" for 1 week. And so far, it has not been difficult. I have found many, many things to occupy my time and have gotten more accomplished in this past week than I have in years. I am aware that I am in an initial stage of excitement and motivation for my newest adventure. And I'm not totally giving everything electronic up and being completely unplugged. I am going to make use of the computers and Internet at the library. It is my hope that by spending less time on the Internet at home, I will be more focused and use my time more productively, focusing on my writing and researching rather than playing FarmVille. I will go to the computer when I feel a desire to do something meaningful to me. And I will continue to check DVDs out from the library, choosing more carefully what I would like to see. I know that there will be a few television programs that I will miss, like "Modern Family" and "The Closer". But now that programs are available on DVD and online, I know that I will not have to worry about missing out on anything because I can always check them out later if I choose to. I am also choosing to read again. I have always loved reading but have not done much of it over the past several years. That hasn't stopped me from purchasing new books that I think I'd like to read sometime. I now have managed to collect over 600 books, none of which I have read. I dust them off every few weeks and scan the shelves trying to decide what to read first, and then I walk away and plop down in my recliner and turn on the TV. If I were to read one book a week, it would take me a little over 12 years to finish them all. That just blows my mind!
So, after some thought on the matter, I decided that I want to at least try to get back to doing things that are meaningful rather than mindless. I have already read two books this week and have found that the time has flown by much more quickly than it ever has when watching "Toddlers and Tiaras". I'm sure that there will be times when I will feel like watching mindless TV for an hour or two and I may even regret my decision to cancel my cable, especially when football season starts. But in the long run, I believe that I will have a greater sense of fulfillment and accomplishment by doing rather than observing and that the time I do choose to spend watching a DVD or working on the computer will be more satisfying because I will have made a deliberate, thoughtful choice for how to spend that time.
Wish me luck with my "experiment"! I am anxious to see where it leads me!
Part of my motivation to give up my cable and Internet was driven by my financial limitations as the medical bills from my four surgeries keep coming in. But the more I thought about it, I was feeling drawn to return to activities that I enjoy and that stimulate my mind. So far, I have "done without" for 1 week. And so far, it has not been difficult. I have found many, many things to occupy my time and have gotten more accomplished in this past week than I have in years. I am aware that I am in an initial stage of excitement and motivation for my newest adventure. And I'm not totally giving everything electronic up and being completely unplugged. I am going to make use of the computers and Internet at the library. It is my hope that by spending less time on the Internet at home, I will be more focused and use my time more productively, focusing on my writing and researching rather than playing FarmVille. I will go to the computer when I feel a desire to do something meaningful to me. And I will continue to check DVDs out from the library, choosing more carefully what I would like to see. I know that there will be a few television programs that I will miss, like "Modern Family" and "The Closer". But now that programs are available on DVD and online, I know that I will not have to worry about missing out on anything because I can always check them out later if I choose to. I am also choosing to read again. I have always loved reading but have not done much of it over the past several years. That hasn't stopped me from purchasing new books that I think I'd like to read sometime. I now have managed to collect over 600 books, none of which I have read. I dust them off every few weeks and scan the shelves trying to decide what to read first, and then I walk away and plop down in my recliner and turn on the TV. If I were to read one book a week, it would take me a little over 12 years to finish them all. That just blows my mind!
So, after some thought on the matter, I decided that I want to at least try to get back to doing things that are meaningful rather than mindless. I have already read two books this week and have found that the time has flown by much more quickly than it ever has when watching "Toddlers and Tiaras". I'm sure that there will be times when I will feel like watching mindless TV for an hour or two and I may even regret my decision to cancel my cable, especially when football season starts. But in the long run, I believe that I will have a greater sense of fulfillment and accomplishment by doing rather than observing and that the time I do choose to spend watching a DVD or working on the computer will be more satisfying because I will have made a deliberate, thoughtful choice for how to spend that time.
Wish me luck with my "experiment"! I am anxious to see where it leads me!
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