Looking for Some Help

Write psychoticAs I work on my novel, I think back to a lot of what happened to me with my bipolar disorder psychotic episodes. I realize that I wasn’t like many bipolar people then and now. I wonder why. I’m writing the first section of my book like a memoir and those that are reading it are surprised by her psychotic tendencies and say that that isn’t bipolar disorder, that is something else. That surprised me.


I opened up about my bipolar disorder to my Writer’s group, but I realize that I am not portraying a wide variety of those that are bipolar in my book. I’m centered only on my reactions and my experiences. My group and many people who get to know me tell me that I “don’t act bipolar.” What do they mean by that? How am I suppose to act? That irritates me. How would they know?

Do bipolar people have such a bad reputation that people expect us to be flying off our seats or crying in the corner ALL the time?

Fuck that!

One thing that my first psychiatrist told me is that I am unusual because I have a very high IQ for empathy. I ignored what he meant by that, but now I’m wondering. How does that make me different? Am I different? Or just damn lucky I found the right medicine cocktail right off the bat.

However, I’m worried. I have never had my kidneys tested, I think. My sister who is also bipolar just did and her kidney functions are low. It could be caused from the lithium, but it mostly is the fact that she has been popping anti-inflammatory like they were candy. But still, I’ve been on lithium ten years longer than she has. What if….

I don’t want to even think about it right now. Scary Thought!

So, I would love to hear from others if you can identify from my post how I am different. I just don’t get it. Maybe I’m not dramatic enough at times, but too extreme other times.

Looking for some help in understanding.

Thanks, Duals


Getting Out from Under

Cat hanging in thereHello Everyone,

A new year should mean resolutions. Well, I don’t believe in resolutions. You should always strive to be a better person all year round, not just at the beginning of the year.

I’m so irritated though with work and that service club I am in, but I won’t get into that.

On my spare time, I’ve been writing a Romantic Thriller. I’m so absorbed into that world that I’d rather not live in my own right now. I started a Writer’s Circle lately that is going really well. Great people and advise is making the second draft practically write itself. 🙂 Okay, I’m exaggerating.

Because of some of the responses I get from those in my Writer’s Circle on my critiques of their work, I’m thinking of taking some courses and getting certified to be a freelance editor. I know. Those in the business are reading this blog and thinking…too many editorial no-nos already in just this post. I know. But this is just a conversational blog. I didn’t write this thinking I had to put on a formal writing facade. So…don’t judge this as to how I often write.

Does anyone have any pointers or horror stories to share about the business. I know what it is like to run your own company, so I’m not worried about that side of the business.

I want to get out from under my parents and do something for me.

Well, I’m sure this is just a one way conversation with myself anyway. I’m not on here like I use to be. I guess blogging didn’t work out for me the way I thought it would.


Spastic Celebration

pregnant-woman-silhouette-cartoonLast month was nerve wracking for me. My husband and I were intimate, but then my period did not arrive for its regularly scheduled program. I freaked! I do want a baby soon, but my psychiatrist jumped ship and I had no one to help me with this predicament. I’m on lithium and Abilify and Ropinerole which are all three not a good idea to be on when pregnant. However, three weeks later during Thanksgiving day celebrations, I get my period. OMG was it painful! The relief and the disappointment threw me into a spastic celebration of tears and laughter. Man, talk about being bipolar. I went through the whole spectrum in like ten minutes.

Now, I have to work on getting a new psychiatrist and therapist. I need to develop a plan for next time this situation arises. I realized I really do want to have a baby, but I am so scared of all the things that come with it. I hope I can find a good support team. I’m sick of just finding a doctor that is “good enough” instead of one I really like. 😦

Well thanks for letting me veg about my dilemma. Now, if only work could be less of a roller coaster too. 😦


No One Seemed to Care

bully pictLately, I’ve been writing again. I love writing. I love the feeling of taking a pen or pencil to lined paper and creating my own piece of art. I feel like a creator when I write. Unfortunately, I’ve been trying to write about what happened to me with some fictional twist here and there. I think it’s going really well, but I’m realizing things that I hadn’t realized before about myself.

One major thing I realized is that bullying really did affect me most of my life. When did the bullying start for me? First grade. I know right! That is way too young, but when girls in your class don’t want to play with you because they tell you you’re too fat…yep, that sure starts a terrible low self-esteem issue. How about when in fifth grade the boys call you Buffalo every day and tell you you’re going to break the chair you’re sitting in because you’re too fat. And when you’re laughed at because you can’t breathe after running the mile in gym class due to asthma in sixth grade. And the boys in junior high walking down the hall with you calling out “Boom-badda-boom” every time your foot hits the ground. These are just some of the things I can remember. I know others have it much worse and students sometimes become violent to those they are bullying.

What gets me is…where were the adults, the teachers, the friends when all this was happening? Where was justice in stopping these acts from happening to me and to all other people that are bullied?

I know when I taught high school, I would sometimes catch acts of bullying happening to my students. I would step in, but you always were afraid of what would happen when you weren’t there and if you made the situation worse for that student. One thing that impacted me the most was what my fifth grade teacher said when I told her about the other students harassing me every day. She said that I needed to accept that students picking on me was a way of life and I needed to learn how to deal with it myself. She never even told the group of boys to stop harassing me.

So, I want to help somehow with the bullying issue.  How do you do that though?


Well, I keep trying to write a post, but lately every time I do I get interrupted so I pitch it and go on to whatever interrupted me. I’m still in a very reactive world and I don’t think I’ll ever get out of it, but I’m functioning quite well. I’m not manic, but I’m not suicidal. I guess I’m at the meloncholy stage where you know you have to clean your house, but you could give two shits about it at the moment. Basically though, I would call that my “normal” stage. I HATE cleaning. If I clean, I’m usually manic or hypomanic or cause myself to be that way. Anyone else feel that way about cleaning?

I got a ColorNook for Christmas and I LOVE IT!!! All I do is read or play texas hold’em on the computer…(I’m addicted to it). I need to stop, but I can’t get enough!

Last week another close relative passed away…#3 since October. However, I didn’t go to the funeral this time because of the weather and I think food poisoning but could be the flu, so it hasn’t really kicked in yet. I knew she was sick, so I was prepared for it. I guess I feel numb about it. When I was told about the funeral, I did ball my eyes out for a while which helped. I’m really going to miss her, my aunt.

Well, I’m at work, but we’re slow. 😦 So, I’m writing now, hoping not to be interrupted until I finish this. I hope everyone is doing well.

Chat with ya later!

My Freaky Self

So, I ended up waking up early again this morning, but I did manage seven hours of sleep. 🙂 It’s early in my definition because it’s SATURDAY!! The day that everyone sleeps in if they can. 😦   When I woke up, I started to compose in my head how I wanted to write my letter to Kay Redfield Jamison, but I realized that my blog seemed to lack something that was very important. I didn’t really clearly define my purpose for this blog, so I got up and started writing. So, now you have a new page and a new blog to read this weekend. Like I didn’t have enough to do! I really need to step away from this computer and the the vast amount of work I have, but I just love writing. 🙂  Right now, I’m enjoying a nice hot cup of cinnamon tea while the white snow outside glows from the dawn, which is lighting my cozy office. Hmmm. Can it get much better than this? 🙂

Now, when you read the page… Please ask me questions!! I’m sure I need to explain further or maybe you want to know why I came to those conclusions? Or maybe you don’t care, but whatever…comment. I don’t bite!! Well, only because I can’t physically bite you. This is over the internet, remember. 🙂  LOL! I also promise I won’t yell at you either. “Come one, come all…step right up.”  Oh great! Now I sound like you should expect a freak show like the circus. DON”T! I’m not a freak. Well, maybe I am, but so what…I’m proud of being my freaky self. 🙂  Okay, this blog isn’t much like me. I think I’m slap happy again today. HYPOMANIC anyone?  🙂

I better go…Christmas cards to write, so little time. 🙂


Dying to Help People

I’ve told you before that my psychiatrists and therapists have told me that even my bipolar disorder is abnormal because I maintain a certain level of control and awareness even when I’m psychotic. Well, now I understand it a lot better after reading a section in Hilary Smith’s “Welcome to the Jungle.”

In chapter two, she talks about insight during psychosis…”insight means the ability to recognize when your behavior and thought patterns are coming from your mental illness as opposed to your regular self.” There are three levels: totally unaware, in and out with knowing but still insisting you are right, and aware no one understands what you are experiencing.

Wow, now this is starting to make more sense to me. Near the beginning of my last manic to psychotic episode, I was reliving my past because I wanted to write a book about my experinces with bipolar disorder. Well, I was obviously hypomanic for a long time while I was going through a med change. I started seeing my therapist and busted out in tears when she asked me about my first hospitalization. I went through all the stages of grief again in her office, so at the end she explained I was most likely suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. My first hospitalization was that horrible.

My hypomania was fueled when I delved into my research again about PTSD instead of just bipolar disorder. I stepped onto a rocket ship and watched myself soar. In less than a weeks time, I stopped being able to easily fall asleep and my sleep was heavily interrupted. I called my psychiatrist to tell her that I was having problems, but the immediate change of medication did not help. After one night of absolutely no sleep, I believed I had to subject myself to the hospitalization system again to overcome my PTSD.

Okay, so that sounds reasonable right? Well, the psychosis was setting in at an alarming rate because when my husband woke up that morning, I also felt I had to become a martyr, so that no one else with bipolar disorder ever had to go through the hell I went through when I was first diagnosed. I honestly thought I had to die to help people.

Because I was facing my fears of hospitalization, I literally could feel my control disappearing faster and faster. My speech and thought processes were so fast, people had a hard time understanding me. My adrenaline was pumping. Thank God for my husband because he literally had to translate what I was saying to the doctors because I was mixing my present situation with what happened to me when I was first diagnosed. My insight was still there as I tried to express my thoughts. I knew I needed help right away before it could get any worse.

Problem #1: What is this bullshit about not medicating me right away to knock me out so I could sleep? Sleep is the biggest help when you are suffering from a psychotic episode. The longer I was awake, the more restless, psychotic, detached, angry, nervous, paranoid, violent, etc. I became. I don’t give a damn that it takes so long to do the paper work, arrange for a bed, see your actual psychiatrist who will treat you while you are in the hospital. There is no excuse why I went until seven o’clock that night before they had to give me a large syringe of a sedative to put me out. My adrenaline and mania were at such an extreme level that the lights burned my eyes and the lightest touch felt like knives sticking into me. It didn’t make sense that I had to wait from seven that morning to seven that night to get the help I needed to sleep.

Well, I could tell you all the other problems I experienced this time around again, but in reality it was a lot better than the first time I was hospitalized. I learned a lot about myself and the disorder. I’m also learning a lot from Hilary’s book, so I’ll keep reading it and let you know. I suspect she might not have been hospitalized before though. She talks about hospitalization very negatively, which I don’t agree. I believe that the “theory” of it can be very important for some people to experience as long as the patient is open to the help. Before this last hospitalization, I would have never said that. Now, the pain I experienced in 1999 is healing because of going through the trauma all over again in 2009. Hospital procedures still have a long way to go before they treat us like humans though. We need to do something about that.

Please comment about your experiences.