Fuck! I lost a leg?!


I recently messaged a guy I went to school with via Facebook in hopes that he could give me some insight as to how to adjust to my new lifestyle a little better. A year ago he lost a leg in an automobile accident. When I think of my ailment, I often compare it to losing a limb. He looks like he’s so well adjusted to his new life that I thought maybe he’d have some good advice on how to cope with something that’s out of your control.

Maybe it’s because he’s a man, or maybe it’s because he didn’t understand me, but all he had to say was “I try not to let it get me down.”

Damn why didn’t I think of that?

So I realize that it is different. When you lose a limb, I suppose you are given a baseline of sorts, a place that you can build upon and know that you will never be back in that hospital bed saying “FUCK! I Lost a leg!?”.

I don’t know about you fellow bipolar sufferers, but I feel like I’m always ending up back in that hospital bed saying “FUCK! I lost my mind!?”

It is always possible for us to end up back there, back at the beginning.

It’s not you, it’s me. Really. I swear.


My most recent slip helped me notice the difference in my social skills during my moods. It was really quite remarkable. I went from being the “Hey! How are ya? We should get together soon!! I LOVE THOSE EARRINGS!!” to, *grunt*, *shuffling feet*.

The whole air around me changes, and I think people can feel it. All of a sudden, situations that wouldn’t be weird become really awkward and silent, like I said something totally inappropriate. Or at least I feel like they feel like I said something inappropriate. I feel like when they look at me, they can see that something is off about me. Kind of like when you talk to someone who has a slight mental disability and you you’re thinking “Somethings not quite right here…”.

You know, I think the air around me DOES CHANGE. Because I know it changed when I was manic. It was on fire. It was either a lustful/seductive fire, or a “You’re the slowest, dumbest, piece of shit I’ve ever seen and I am highly offended that I’m being forced to breathe the same air as you” kind of fire.

So I suppose it’s only natural for it to change when I’m depressed or in a mixed episode. It’s one of those moments when saying “It’s not you, it’s me” is TOTALLY appropriate.

I bet I would be SUPER in theatre.


I don’t blog that regularly anymore because I don’t feel like I have anything witty to say anymore. I’m just existing, living a normal average life. Can’t complain about that, really.

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I did A LOT of that ^ yesterday. I mean, I was a god damn mess. And today, I’m like this:

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And who knows!? Tomorrow, I could be this:

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If you haven’t guessed it by now, my meds need adjusting. When I came off the Lithium in early February, I started the Tegretol at the normal starting dose of 200mg a day (100mg twice a day). And I felt really good for about 6 weeks. Then I felt my emotional bubble continue to grow past my comfort level.

((emotional bubble = range of emotions felt: sadness, normalcy, happiness))

I didn’t say anything because I wanted to push it. Just like everyone else,  I want to be on as little medication as possible. So my internal dialogue did that same old shitty speech “Buck it up, you can handle it. Normal people handle it. You ARE normal. You CAN BE if you just try a little harder.” So I did. But my bubble bursted yesterday and I was a bipolar mess. Really, 200mg, I might as well be un-medicated. The tegretol is ALL I’m taking for my bipolar.

So I wake up tearing everyone a new asshole, then perfectly fine, then ready to lose it on my kids, then an anxious wreck, all panicky, crying, hopeless, then fine, you get the idea. Rinse and repeat. It was exhausting, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Pillars pretty  much kicked me out of the house for the day – for his sake, and for mine. I wasn’t handling existence well anywhere, but it was easier out of the house where I could control all the stimulation around me (remember…3 small children here).

I spoke with my Psychiatrist yesterday and he doubled my dosage, so today was my 2nd full day of taking 400mg a day. I had moments, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Much better than yesterday. Luckily, yesterday was also support group night. Well, or unluckily. When it was my turn to talk about my week, I bursted into tears and I’m sure the words coming out of my mouth didn’t make any sense.  They made me feel tons better, as being with people who are equally fucked up typically does.

The battle here for me is when I feel myself being pushed, to NOT continue to allow it. To tell myself that it’s OK to ask for help, and to stop expecting myself to function as other people do.

So here I am, being all bipolar and shit again.

Hello. Yes, actually, that’s me.


When people say “Bipolar”, unless they ARE, or know someone who IS, they use it as a demeaning description of someones actions and behavior. And quite frankly, I hate it. I was probably guilty of it before I was diagnosed…

But, Hello. I am your co-worker you get along with and watch continuously perform excellent work.

And, Hello. I am the young woman with the tablet and books spread out in front of me at the gym seemingly minding my own business while working on a paper.

Hello. I HAVE BIPOLAR DISORDER. I am NOT “crazy”. Having this illness does not make me less of a good person than you. And using the word “bipolar” in a derogatory way against someone else is offensive.

Why does BIPOLAR = BAD to you?

Why does BIPOLAR = CRAZY to you?

Why does BIPOLAR = UNFIT to you?

These people who use the word like that, they probably wouldn’t even be able to give me a good definition of the illness. I think that’s what I’ll do next time this happens to me. I’ll ask them, like I’ve never heard of it before, “What is Bipolar?” And then, I’ll let them have it. But I won’t portray this image they have of a bipolar person, screaming, nuts.

Most sensible people have stopped using the term “retarded” to describe people – it’s time to start doing the same with “bipolar”. It’s a real situation. Real people have it.

It’s Alive!


I’ve been gone for a while, sorry. I think I felt like I was drowning myself in being bipolar and hindering my recovery.

I started school about a month ago and it’s going well…I’m looking forward to building a career, envisioning my life as a functional, contributing person in society.

I got my meds changed about a week ago, and I’m now taking 100 mg of Tegretol 2x a day, and 30 mg of Restoril at bedtime. I have my mind back, and it’s overwhelming sometimes when I realize how heavily the Lithium had affected my thinking. It was like brick wall had been built in my head, not allowing any thoughts to come in or to go out. It was a great mood stabilizer – and that’s why I put up with it for so long. I figured, hey, I’m not manic, I’m not severely depressed, so this MUST be the “normal” me. I thought it was just the life I was destined to live as a medicated bipolar person.

But the fact that I was an idiot half of the time started to chip away at my self esteem, and I did some high level critical thinking for me (being as thinking AT ALL was difficult) and decided that I was NOT an idiot before the Lithium (and not just because I was manic), and therefore, the Lithium was MAKING ME an idiot.

I realized that before I was bipolar, I was an incredible person, and that I still am that incredible person. There are just some things that need adjusting so I can get back to showing everyone that I am incredible.

If I have to choose between being an idiot on meds or being off meds, and thus a little unstable, I am going to choose being slightly unstable.

So here’s hoping that the Tegretol works. I’ll exhaust every reasonable medical intervention before I go sans-meds, but in the end I want to be the best person I can be for my children. I feel like being “alive” mentally is more beneficial than having an empty shell of a body because of all the meds.

I would rather them think in 15 years:

“Eh, Mom was a little crazy sometimes, high energy, telling jokes, always happy, and sometimes she seemed really sad and slept a lot, but she always made us feel loved”

rather than

“Mom wasn’t really ever ‘there’…she never seemed able to make choices very easily, couldn’t help me with my homework, never seemed really interested in my life, and was never really active with us”.

I think we’d all choose that first option. And I can understand now why people choose to come off their meds. It’s a really fine line.

But let’s be optimistic and believe that we will all one day find that perfect cocktail that will allow us to be mentally/physically/emotionally active and we won’t have to worry about all those nasty side effects of the meds or from being off the meds.

Cheers!

I forgot to put a title here.


I think we’re going to have to change the times I take my Lithium up a bit. I see the psych this Friday.

I am currently taking:

Lithium 1200 mg at bedtime

Ambien 10 mg at bedtime

Ativan as needed

Pretty mild considering some of the other concoctions I hear about people being on. So that’s one positive I suppose. But I am tired of being irritable and nasty in the evenings and night. Some people in my support group said my meds are probably wearing off, which makes perfect sense. Either way, I am just going to go in to the office Friday and present my symptoms. I think I do a really good job at keeping Pillars and the kids out of the line of fire. I just rage at everyone else. And it’s horribly exhausting.

I should probably just go take an Ativan right now. I’m sorry I don’t have anything remarkably insightful to say. I’m sure as soon as the fog clears out of my head it’ll all come out.

And before I forget, I would like to list some of the things my sweet husband (of 7 years, this month!) does for me on a regular basis:

– I am not saying this to brag, but there are some people in this community who have called him “vile”, “dangerous”, and, my personal favorite!, “a bipolar” lately and I merely wanted to say that if loving vile is wrong, I don’t want to be right. Haters gonna hate! –

Hot towel massages, complete with calming music and scented lotion

Head/foot/shoulder/back/whatever aches rubs (sometimes 2/3 a day)

Random yummy surprises (candy bars/nachos and cheese/soda/OJ…my favorite things)

Romantic cards with smushy love letters written in them

Lots of house cleaning

Cleans the litter box

Wrestles with the kids every day, and makes it a point to show them how to treat a woman and what a woman should expect

Plus all the “regulars” like making dinner, unexpected trips out of the house (“Go out to eat, read a book, just relax!”)…shit, he’s even shaved my legs before.

I bet you all wish you had someone vile like him. 🙂

I should be sleeping right now.


Its been 11 months since I’ve been “home”. While that’s not uncommon in this military community, “home” is only 5 hour west for us. It’s really not a long drive, although if the kids are in the right moods (or if god forbid you have a newborn), it might as well be cross country.

You guessed it, we’re “going home” for the weekend tomorrow. It’s bothering me a lot. I decided to finally think about what Im feeling and here’s what I found out:

>trips cause anxiety

>especially trips “home”

>seeing my mom makes me anxious

>the last time I was there I was on the verge of madness and ended up having an affair just a day or 2 after returning home.

>there are people who know about me who I haven’t seen yet.

>Pillars has a friend back “home” who suggested he take our kids and have me locked up.

If they think those things, clearly, people don’t understand me. Or Bipolar.

Plus it being near the holidays and all.

I hate the thought of kicking someone in the balls.

Unexpected plans


Pillars is out of state for the week for work. Actually, in the town we first lived in together as husband and wife! Our first 2 children were conceived there. A town rich in…well, Marines and strip clubs pretty much. Jacksonville. No, not Florida, but North Carolina. 

It was a short notice trip – I think we found out Wednesday that he had to leave Sunday. I don’t handle stuff like that well. I hope to change that some day. My anxiety heightened, I was irritable and a little detached. I don’t know why – it’s not the first trip. He had a year or so where he was taking trips to California about every other month. I handle them well here at home – I actually feel like I perform better during the trips. Weird. It’s like I’m put to the test and I perform better than just in normal situations. I don’t understand it, don’t care to. 

Wait! I see an opportunity to exercise my new attitude!! I don’t give a fuck!! 

I don’t remember why I started this blog…hm.

Miss you Pillars.

A month of normalcy


*Disclaimer* Sorry, as I am writing, I realize Im using some inappropriate language that some may find offensive. But if you like to curse, read the fuck on!

October 1st marked the beginning of me no longer working nights. I had been working nights for 11 months, and had been (I believe) consequently suffering from some of the worst mood swings, depression, anxiety, and mania I had ever experienced.

I think there were some life changes that took place in October that alongside my current medicinal cocktail proved to help me become more stable.

Well, mainly just 2. A set bed time of 10pm (alright, so I had a few nights that I stayed up late), and a new attitude.

I’ve wanted a new attitude for a long time, but lacked the tools and medication to come by one. I know its vulgar, and probably rude, but it’s important for me and my mind. Are you ready for it?? My new mantra??

I don’t give a fuck what you think. I’ll only do what I want, and when I want to do it. I just don’t give a fuck.

Yes folks, you too can have a new attitude – all by creating a cheeky new motto.

Naturally, its not a blanket statement:

>I do give a fuck about my family, my husband, my life, etc etc. What I don’t give a fuck about anymore is how clean my house is, getting called out by a boss because my shirt isn’t pressed enough, or my mother calling and passive aggressively attacking me. And other stupid shit like that.

>Clearly, I have responsibilities: poppy diapers need to promptly be changed, laundry and dishes need to be done so we are at least clothed and fed, I have to be at scheduled appointments, etc.

So, my new way of thinking is really another way of determining what’s important in my life. Taking away all this energy Im allowing these trivial people and things to be draining from me, and putting that energy back into myself.

I kinda feel like Donald Trump, sticking my finger out – “Your’e fired.”

To my old life – you’re fired

To my old obsessions – you’re fired

To letting my mom hurt me – you’re fired.

To the part of me that doesn’t think I deserve to be forgived – you’re fired.

To those ignorant fucks at work who call me slow and try to intimidate me – you’re fired.

So October has been my first normal month. Im skeptical. But it looks nice on paper.