Everyday, each one of us is presented with a myriad of choices from what to wear that day to what to have for dinner. These are inconsequential choices; they really won’t make a huge difference in the grand scheme of things. But what do you do when you are facing a really big, life-changing decision like whether to relocate with your company, file for a divorce, file for a marriage certificate; these are all decisions that have the potential to color the next few decades of you r life. So, how do we make good decisions? Psychotherapist Alison Thayer LCPC helps her clients navigate though the oftentimes murky water of decision making; everything from unpleasant co-workers to seriously life changing decisions like moving across the country.
“Part of the decision making process involves letting go of the perfect image we had hoped to achieve.”
Another part involves asking good questions that help you reflect on your options and put them into perspective. Below, Thayer shared four questions we can consider when making a decision.
What are my options, and what are the pros and cons of each option? It may sound like a petty exercise, but writing down the pros and cons of each potential outcome can help a person see the decision more clearly because it has been distanced my their mind by the process of writing it down. Approaching a decision in this way may also lead to new ideas about how something can be accomplished.
A year from now, if I decide to do X, what might this look like? It is not like we can foresee the future, but chances are if you feel good about it now and you still feel good about when you “project” yourself into a year from now, then chances are it is the right decision.
What’s the worst-case outcome? This question can help alleviate anxiety. If you imagine the anxiety-provoking situation and decide it can be handled, you have helped ease anxiety. Asking this question can help to “clarify that the anticipated response may not be as bad as we are making it out to be.”
What would I tell a friend to do?Frequently, we would give the friend gentle advice while we, at the same time, have the same dilemma. Yet we are very harsh and critical of ourselves. Reflecting on this question may help you see that you are holding your own self back.
So, I have been experiencing the dreaded “mixed” episode for about a month now. This one has been particularly bad. The last one I had that even comes close was 8 years ago. The main problem with the mixed episode is that you cannot medicate yourself out of it the same way that you can a psychotic or manic episode. Depressive episodes are a category all their own. I would gladly give a body part for this to go away. The main problem with the mixed episode is that you are stuck between mania and depression. Your sleep habits change, your eating habits change, your whole structured life is ruined; this helps the mania, but does little for the depression.
I am freaking annoyed and pissed off at people for no other reason than that they cannot seem to understand that I am trying as hard as I can just to survive this. Another one of my little tells that let me know where I am on the Richter scale: Am I listening to Alice in Chains? And…….wait for it……wait for it…….the answer is yes. My absolute all-time favorite I am pissed off at the world so I am going to listen to songs that are as angry as I am. Yes, I realize this is childish. But, so is contemplating the amount of medication I have at my disposal. No, I am not suicidal, so do not get your panties in a bunch. I am just exceedingly tired of feeling like this. I am tired of presenting the happy face to the world. I am tired of pretending that I am not really that sick so people will leave me alone, I am just tired. What a cliche ~ I am sick and tired. Except it is true. I am sick. I am tired. It takes a lot energy to appear as if you are in remission (because it never really goes away, now, does it?) or at least to appear to be functioning, and that you do not mind that everything about your life is fucked.
Yeah, I can pretty cheerfully say, “Oh, I really do not mind having no car in a city where public transportation is a joke” or “No, I don’t mind hauling 50 pounds of food on foot one mile to my apartment” and “No, I really don’t mind living on $6.00 an hour”. I can easily and believably say all this bullshit, because that is what it is. Bullshit comes easy to me. If I can make the head of Children’s Psychiatric services at the University Hospital here believe that I am okay and that I don’t need to see him anymore, and then turn around two weeks later and try to kill myself (I was 16, and it was my first serious attempt), then I can make anybody believe anything. This guy was supposed to be a professional. I also had convinced that I didn’t do drugs as I sat stoned in his office. Am I that good, or was he just that stupid?I think, personally, he was just that stupid, because I sure as hell am not that good.
And, I am tired and absolutely sick of people telling me I need to get a car, and a job. Well, people, if I had a normal fucking brain like the rest of the sheep on this planet who want nothing more than a 9 to 5 job, a house, 2.5 kids, and a dog, then maybe I wouldn’t get fired from every job I have ever held. I have been fired from a Temp agency. How the fuck do you accomplish that? How many people do you know that have been fired not just from the temp assignment, but from the agency itself? I mean, that takes skill. Serious skill.
How many people can honestly believe that I do not want to work? I have taken to talking to myself just to keep myself from going absolutely insane as opposed to the semi-sane state that I am currently in. Why can’t people see that? What is it that makes the people in my life so fucking blind that they can’t see that I am pretending to be well? I am not well. I am manic, I am depressed. Come on people, I don’t sense things the same way you do. My perception of emotion is fucked up. I don’t just have a bad day, I have bad years. I don’t have good days. I rise to heights that would scare tightrope walkers and I spend weeks there. And, somebody wants to employ that combination? What the fuck planet are you from? I do not even want to live that combination, but here I am, living it as successfully as I know how. Fuck you all…….get back to me when I am well…..or maybe when you are not operating under some delusion that I am just like everyone else. Everyone else does not see the world through a chemical cocktail designed to keep you as level as possible. Everyone else does not have wild, unpredictable mood swings. Everyone else is not addicted to anti-anxiety drugs that you take just to get through the day without having some form of panic attack. Everyone else is not on anti-psychotics that are supposed to keep you grounded to this planet, and wreak havoc on your body.
Come on, you fucking normal people, try to get a clue about the different people in this world and your life. I am sick of fucking “normal” people telling me what to do. Just because I look “normal” with my painted nails, made-up face, straightened hair, and well thought out clothing choices does not mean that I am anywhere near freaking “normal”. I am just a well-groomed freak. I am a well-groomed waste of space. But, at least I am well-groomed. That’s not even funny. Talk to me about being “normal” when the voices in my head have stopped talking, and my moods are not on a see-saw. I do not even know where I am going to be on the scale from moment to moment, let alone for my whole life. Yeah, I am fucking employable. At least, I don’t have any more monkeys on my back. That may be the only healthy thing about me right now. Please get a clue, step outside for a minute and realize that I am pretending to be okay. I am most definitely not okay. Far from it. But, I will be. I always am. Because I have to be. I apparently have no choice.
Reblogged from The Bipolarized: I found this on my bloggie friend Brad’s blog, and when I read it, I could relate to every single thing the author pointed out. My personal favorites: “Can’t you just control your moods?” (No, I can’t. I have never been able too. Don’t you think I would if I could), and I am assuming this one to be apropos to a depressive episode: “Just suck it up and be a man.” or my version “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps. There are worse things in life!” (Ummmm, no, there really aren’t. My depression trumps all other world problems, and I cannot just get up and pretend everything is hunky-dory because my brain chemistry says it is time to be depressed. What about faulty wiring do you not get? I am not like you). Oh, and my other favorite: “Are you taking your meds?” (NO, No, I am not……duh, I must be taking them if I am functioning. It is pretty obvious when a mentally interesting person goes off their meds. It is really obvious in some cases, and more subtle in others, but you can tell that the individual is not acting “right.” Of course I am taking my meds, I am gaining weight and my teeth are falling out. What more evidence do you want?). So, for all you Bipolars out there who have heard any one of these things, this is a great post!
BiPolar – What’s Up? – Dunno, I’m kinda Down (Photo credit: Creativity+ Timothy K Hamilton)
I am sure that most people in the Bipolar world have heard of Julie Fast. She has been living with Ultra Rapid Cycling Bipolar II with psychotic features for about 15 + years. It’s not that far away from my own diagnosis of Bipolar I with psychotic features except i am usually in a mixed state which is just the worst. You are the most motivated depressed person and the least motivated manic person. They sort of bleed into one another.
Anyway, the book is Bipolar Happens! and it has a very unique outlook on managing Bipolar symptoms such as anxiety (I knew there was a connection), depression, mania, paranoia, and other subtle symptoms of Bipolar.
She starts the book with that familiar saying and complaint: “I just want to be normal.” She states that people are often taken aback by that statement. People often ask “What is normal?” or “is anyone really normal?” which personally I would find somewhat offensive because there is such a thing as “not normal.” She states it is not normal to not be able to hold a job for more than two years (hmmm, been there), or taking 8 years to finish college (hmmm, been there too). She says it is not normal to hear voices that tell you that you are worthless and you should just die.
She states in return to these statements that everyone is abnormal to some degree, but there are normal people out there. She knows that because she knows what it means to be NOT normal as I suspect many people with mental interestingness would attest to. She points out that “normal” people think about one or two thoughts at a time, not twenty (flight of ideas) whirling around inside your brain. Ms. Fast writes that it is not normal to break down every behaviour looking for the negative meaning. It isn’t about hearing voices that tell you that you’ll never amount to anything so why bother trying (I have experienced those voices for many, many years, and I would dare say that most people with Bipolar have also to some degree).
One thing that really resonated with me is her writing that normal people live day-to-day while Bipolar people have a tendency to live in the past and feel that there is no hope for the future. I am guilty of that. Especially of reliving my childhood where I was a weird kid, but not a Bipolar person, yet.
She writes a great deal on depression and how to combat it in the book (maybe because women are more likely than men to have depressive episodes). One thing that she talks about that I had already discovered on my own is how truly beautiful this world is. Instead of walking with your head down looking at all the garbage this world produces, look at the sky, the bees collecting nectar, the unsual arrangement of pots that make up a planter; of course it helps if you don’t have a car, but I have seen more beautiful things that I would have missed had I been driving. I have met some very interesting people as well.
She asks the question: are you looking up and seeing the beauty of the world and feeling better, or are you looking down and letting depression get you? I know it is hard when you are in the throes of depression to see any beauty in anything, however I have found that getting outside and walking can be very spirit lifting. Basically, she says you have to tell the depression NO! and fight it like an enemy. She suggests writing down the symptoms of your depression so you will know it is the illness talking and not something else. Basically, you have to learn your behaviours so well that you can feel them coming, and you can take action to stop them.
Another topic she writes on, which I think is terribly important, is for your friends and family to be educated about the illness so they can see when you are ill, and take steps to help you rather than as one person I know put it when I asked them to take me to the hospital, “I am so sick and tired of all of your drama and chaos!” That wasn’t what I needed to hear from that person. If a Bipolar is asking to go to the hospital, just take them. They know what condition their condition is in, and they are asking for help not being screamed at. At the time of the above occurrence, I had all my meds lined up in a row an the counter in the bathroom, and I was wondering if I had enough to kill myself. So, yes, I think it is extremely important for those who care about you and whom you care about to be educated about this sometimes fatal illness.
She writes on how to recognize the early stages of a manic episode and how to stop them. Of course, this is very personal in how the mania manifests itself. The are a myriad of ways that mania can insidiously crawl into your life. And, it can be a very destructive force in relationships, financial matters, work place etiquette, etc. It is important to know what triggers your manic episodes.
Basically, this is a fast read, and many of the techniques she describes are ones I have tried and been successful with. If you had asked me 5 + years ago how I was doing, I would have had to lie, and say fine. And, since I am really good at hiding my illness from others, people believe me, and are then rather shocked when I become so depressed I can’t get dressed or bathe. However, I find that sticking to a regular sleep cycle, always taking my meds, trying to eat right and exercise, and doing things I enjoy seem to help. All are mentioned in her book. I guess when you have been an untreated bipolar for 15 years and treated for 11 years, you sort of work out your own “health” plan. I do, however, recommend this book. It is short, simple and to the point. And, it makes a lot of sense. She does not claim to be “cured” just very well managed.
English: Emotions associated with anger (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Apparently there are five stages identified by the mental health professionals to be the cycle of loss and grief. (I do not know if this is a series that implies linear psychological movement or if a person oscillates between stages) They are in order:
Denial & Isolation ~ This is the stick your head in the sand and pretend nothing is happening phase. Actually, it is the first reaction to finding out very bad emotional news such as the death of a loved one, the loss of a relationship, etc. This phase allows a person to block out harmful words and to hide from the facts. It is a temporary response meant to get a person through that first wave of pain. It is not intended to last forever.
Anger ~ This is the phase where you point an enraged finger at everything and everyone. In reality, this phase arrives after the masking phase of denial & isolation wears off and the reality and pain of the situation reassert themselves, and we are just not quite ready for them. During this phase, we tend to deflect the most intense emotions by redirection and expression as anger. This anger can be pointed at anything or anyone. One may also feel guilty about feeling angry and become even more so.
Bargaining ~ The “if only” phase. Bargaining is a normal reaction to feelings of helplessness and vulnerability and often represents a need to regain control. I call this the “if only” phase because a person in this phase is thinking to themselves “if only I had been a more behaved child, my parents would have stayed together” or “if only I had noticed the changes sooner, my husband would not be as ill as he is.” Basically, one is telling oneself that “if only” they had been or done x,y, and z, then everything would have turned out differently. This is a much weaker line of defense against the pain that is reality. Whatever has happened is done. There is nothing to bargain for or with at this point.
Depression ~ a fairly obvious stage, i would think. There are two types associated with mourning. The first is a reaction to the practical implications of the loss. Sadness and regret play a big part in this phase. It is kind of an extension of the bargaining phase in that one regrets things one has done, and experiences remorse because one is still going through the “if only’s”, but is about to come out the other side into the reality of what has happened. The second type of depression that occurs is much more subtle and perhaps, more personal in nature. This is the phase in which one is quietly preparing themselves to separate from and say goodbye to someone or something we love(d) goodbye. This is the deeply personal sorrow at one’s loss, and is uncomfortable because while one is still deeply sad, at the same time, a person is preparing to move on.
Acceptance ~ or in my opinion, a form of enlightenment. This is not a phase that everyone reaches. Some people may never move past denial and anger. It is not a brave and noble thing to deny the inevitable and the opportunity to make our own form of peace. This phase is very quiet and withdrawn, however, it is not a period of happiness, although it must be distinguished from depression. Coping with a personal loss is a deeply individual and singular process. No two people will grieve a loss in the same way. Nobody can help a person go through it with more ease or to understand the very personal emotions one is experiencing. The best thing one can do is to allow oneself to experience the pain when it comes because resistance will only prolong the process of healing. I call this a form of enlightenment because if one can work their way through this maze, and come out of it changed for the better and more at peace with oneself and the world around you, you have achieved a form of enlightenment, in my opinion.
i thought I had already prepared myself for the loss and grief of the death of my marriage. I had been unhappy for at least two years, apparently completely missed by my husband. I thought I had already decided the relationship was over and that I had been alone for awhile. Nope, I was really wrong. When something like a divorce is just a thought, albeit a very serious thought, one is still married. There is still hope for change if both parties are willing to put in some serious work, and both parties are willing to work on changing things their partner is really unhappy with. But, even counseling is an exercise in futility if even one person is not on the same boat. When one person feels that the other is the one who needs to do all the changing while they continue happily along with their own odious behaviors, even the most skilled therapist will not be able to effect any change in the marriage.
That is how it seemed to me in my own relationship. I was the one who was mentally “interesting.” I was the one who got angry and yelled and threw mini-tantrums. I was the one who just couldn’t get with the program which was my husband could watch Internet porn all day, but I could not bring a male friend to the house. Apparently, I was the “only” woman who ever had any problem with his viewing porn. I had no problem with it either, just not 8 or 9 hours a day, every day. Eventually, it got to the point where I wasn’t even saying anything about it because that was a pointless way to spend breath. I just let him do it, and continue doing it, and I would periodically make unhappy grumbling noises about a divorce which he erroneously thought of as a threat or an ultimatum to get him to slow down. It wasn’t either, it was a certainty. It was just a matter of when.
I truly have been questioning why I stayed in a relationship that so obviously emotionally and insidiously verbally abusive for so long. I am not a weak willed person, at least I did not think so. Yet, I stayed in a relationship that was incredibly abusive in the ways that leave no visible marks but eventually erodes your sense of who you are in the most basic of ways. I no longer think of myself as attractive (I couldn’t live up to the women on the Internet), I no longer think of myself as a sexy, feminine woman, I question my rationality, I question everything i once held to be true about myself. I question my worth to anyone. Hell, I question my worth to myself. I think I am moving between denial, anger, and depression. Even that I am unsure of. I cannot figure out how I could have let this happen to me other than hope springs eternal, and I thought maybe one day he would wake up and realize what I was worth to him. He knows now.
I pledge my commitment to the Blog For Mental Health 2013 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.
Blog For Mental Health 2013
A little bit about my own struggle with what I choose to call mental “interestingness” because I refuse to labeled “ill.” I have been clinically diagnosed since I was a child with chronic depression which I struggled largely on my own. My parents were too involved in their own career ambitions and other “dramatic” situations to realize that I was suicidally depressed at the age of 12.
Most of my depression I now attribute to an organic chemical imbalance as well as the situation I lived in. I was bullied in school (starting in grammar school and continuing through high school) for being “different from the other students. For example, I was very bright and curious for my age so my parents had me tested for our school district’s “Gifted” student program which included an IQ test aimed at grade school students. I scored in the 98th percentile which meant that for one hour every day, I went to another class. The kids I went to school with thought that I was stuck-up and above everybody else because I got to leave the regular class. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
In reality, I was profoundly sad because I had no friends, I tried to make myself “small” so nobody would notice me, and I was extremely shy and inhibited. I cried easily which the other students used to my detriment. I cannot remember feeling anything close to happiness until college, and by then, I already had one serious suicide attempt under my belt. I had just convinced the psychiatrist I had been seeing and hating every minute of seeing that I was fine and no longer needed his services. About a week later, I swallowed a bottle of aspirin. Something in me wouldn’t let me go through with it though, and I called my best friend to come and get me. Even at that time, I would not try to get help from my family because by then, I also felt like a huge burden to them because there was clearly something wrong with me. I used to wonder why I couldn’t just be a little more like my younger sister who seemed to float through life. Why did everything for me have be difficult? I still have trouble listening to Metallica’s “Fade to Black” which is about suicide and the soundtrack I chose for my first attempt.
Later that year, I was assaulted by the guy I was seeing at the time. I was 16 and 4 months old. It was in the fall right after the State Fair had finished, so I am guessing October. After that I really couldn’t have cared less about anything least of all myself. I began to hang out with older kids, runaways, hippies, bikers, anyone who might have weed. I managed to keep myself away from the hard drugs until I was about 18. I had also applied for concurrent enrollment at the University here so I could finish my senior year and start my freshman year at the same time. I guess I was what people would call happy during that time, but I think that was an illusion. I spent a lot of my time self-medicating. There is too much to tell about that period of my life without writing a short story. We’ll just say it was a very dysfunctional happiness.
My current therapist of about 10 years think that I had moved beyond chronic depression somewhere in those late teen years. I had “graduated” to full blown Bipolar disorder. However, I was so thoroughly “medicated,” no doctor or counselor picked it up. There was about three or four more suicide attempts between then and the total and complete nuclear meltdown that I experienced in my very early 30’s. That was a depressive episode unlike anything I had ever experienced. I was agoraphobic, having panic attacks, and suffering from acute anxiety. How I made it to the first appointment with my therapist still eludes me. I guess I was determined to figure out what was wrong with me because something was really, really wrong this time. By this time, I had tried suicide about 4 times. was actively trying to drink myself to death, and had been through drug rehab and been arrested twice.
I was diagnosed with Bipolar Depression type I with Psychotic Tendencies at the age of about 31 along with Panic Disorder with and with out Agoraphobia, Generalized Anxiety and ADD. As far as I was concerned life was over. I became a “frequent flyer” at the psych hospital where they tried numerous medications to stabilize my moods. I don’t know what was worse, the moods or the drugs.I was what they call treatment resistant although I was compliant, and did give each and every new medication a go until side effects would force me to stop. I think they finally stabilized me on atypical anti-psychotics, benzodiazepines and Adderall in 2006 when I was nearly 35. I can’t even imagine what mt parents went through. My mom hung in there to the best of her ability, and my father disengaged from me. My mom still hangs in there with me, and I haven’t seen my father for about three years. I have talked to him three times in that time frame.
Now that I have achieved what I call a “stable” madness, I will talk to people about what it is like to live with these challenges on a daily basis because I have come to view life as a challenge to be overcome not thrown away, I have become a practicing Buddhist, I have not tried to kill myself in 5 years, and I have started a blog detailing what life is like with a primary diagnosis of Bipolar disorder with all of its glorious ups and dismal downs. I have chosen to be minimally medicated so that I can still feel emotion in a relatively normal way, and I have chosen to be completely open about my “interestingness” in the hopes that someone else could possibly see themselves in me, and realize they are not suffering alone nor are they flawed in any way. I have chosen to do so in order to show people that those of us that they consider weird or different are not all that strange at all; we simply experience and perceive the world through a different lens just like everyone else, and that we are not the scary monsters the media turns us into. If I can change the mind of one person about what mental health issues are truly about, then I have made a dent.
I know it’s bad when I have forsaken my Alice in Chains, Pink Floyd, and Nine Inch Nails for Marilyn Manson. I think I am slowly going mad. The Christians have a saying that God does not give more than you can handle. That’s a nice sentiment but I am Buddhist, and everything that is good in my life and everything that is bad in my life is all my own doing (or undoing, as it appears to be). I am the source of the answer and the problem, and I have no answers, just problems. I can no longer see any light at the end of the tunnel. It has gone out, or the lantern bearer is on break. I feel like I am in the boat crossing the river Styx with Charon at the helm, and he is taking us further and further down the river towards Hades and away from the light.
My soon to be ex-husband is closed up in his little room with the door shut watching his porn, and diving deeper into his fantasy life. I wish I had a fantasy life. I have always been too practical and logical to have much of an active fantasy life. To me, if it wasn’t something tangible I could touch, it didn’t exist (I know that sounds a little like Kant‘s philosophy that as soon as an object is out of sight, does it cease to exist?), if it could not be proven scientifically, I had no use for it. I do not believe is God, so that is out of the question. It would be so nice to just be able to “turn my problems over to God” and let him/her deal with the hows and the whys. But I can’t see or touch God, therefore he/she doesn’t exist in my realm. I wish I could “Let go and let God,” or whatever that bumper sticker says. But, how can one turn one’s problems over to an entity they cannot prove the existence of? That’s too much of a leap of faith for me. It requires trust in something I cannot touch, see or conceive of.
So, I am becoming increasingly stuck in my own mind which is not a good place to be right now. I cannot seem to achieve the mind-heart disconnect that I have been able to successfully complete in the past. Even though he has taken away my sense of myself as attractive and sexy which are very feminine yearnings. I had that sense once, but that part of me is under deep cover right now. I know I should be mad about that, but somehow, I have decided that everything that went wrong with this relationship is my fault. I wasn’t tolerant of his porn addiction (and it is an addiction, at this point), I did not act or do things the way he expected a wife to do. I am NOT going to clean the house in lingerie and high heels as he seems to have come to believe that “real and sexy” women do. Porn has warped his sense of gender roles and sexuality in general. And, yet he claims to know the difference between the reality of marriage and the “fantasy women.” No, he doesn’t. With addiction came the blurring of the line, just like it does with any addiction. However, I felt very disrespected, and said so on more than one occasion. He didn’t listen. Junkies do not listen to people telling them they are sick. They believe their behaviour is within the realm of the normal. I have been an addict. There is nothing normal about it.
I cannot decide how I feel. I am decidedly not manic, nor am I particularly depressed. I am extraordinarily stressed out, and I am sad. I can tell because I am dropping weight like I was actually dieting. But, the truth is I cannot eat. I cannot sleep for more than 4 or 5 hours a night. This is going to drive me mad. Not nuts, I am already there, but completely mad. The kind you may or may not come back from in the same form you had before. There is no going back, anyway. Every experience shapes you for the better, the worse or both. This is a both situation. I have changed for the better in some ways, and for the worse in others. Like my trust factor is shot right now. I entrusted him with my heart and soul, and he broke my heart. There is nothing on this planet that I will likely experience at this point in time that will break my soul. I have already been through that, too, and lived. It took a while to pull the pieces back together, but I did it, and came out stronger. Continue reading →
bipolar-quotes-02-300×240 (Photo credit: Life Mental Health)
I have one certainty right now. I have BPAD type I with psychotic features, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder with and without Agoraphobia, and Panic Disorder. It it not amusing that 3 of 4 are anxiety disorders that are triggered by stress which I am undergoing to an extreme that I never have in the past. Not this kind of stress. I can handle work-related stress, the everyday stress that comes from sharing this planet with so many different people, but I don’t know if I can handle this level of emotional stress. I feel that I may go insane (I have a list to choose from), and this time I may not come back in the same form I left in. I cannot sleep, I cannot eat, I am paralyzed in my mind where I go to hide. I feel like a coin being tossed and whatever comes up heads is where I go that day. If it’s tails, do not bother getting out of bed, it won’t be worth the time, energy or pain that will go into trying to stay positive in the face of extremely negative circumstances.
Everyone thinks I am strong and I am not. I am a quivering mass that is hiding behind a facade of normalcy and strength. Unless you have experienced this type of emotional stress, you will not understand what I am going on about. My husband is going to be served with divorce papers tomorrow, and neither one of us have a place to go live other than where we are. So, we are living together for the next three months. I do not think this is going to finally be the proverbial straw, and I go off the deep end (I am already in the deep end), and never come back. This is going to color my world for a long time, I think. My whole paradigm about relationships has shifted, and it remains to be seen in which direction. My last long term relationship lasted 9 years, but at the time no one knew that I had manic-depression. PTSD, yes. But nothing that could explain the Bipolar symptoms that were beginning to manifest. Now, I know, and I feel an obligation to whoever can love me to tell them so they will know from the get go what they are in for. Ideally, this person will not be swayed and will learn how to be with someone who has periods of mania and severe depression. And, they will care and not care at the same time. They will love me for me, and the disorder won’t always be the elephant in the room like it is now.
He doesn’t understand what he did wrong in the marriage, I totally get what I did wrong. I am divorcing him for those reasons, not because I do not love him, but because I do love him and care about his welfare, and I am not an easy person to be around sometimes. I do things and say things that are harmful and damaging. And, I am trying to protect him from me, and to a certain extent, myself from him. I cannot tolerate his pet diversion any longer and still respect myself as a woman. I can no longer live with someone who refuses to try to learn something about Bipolar disorder since that has been the most disruptive of all my diagnoses. How can one handle something that one has no real knowledge of? I have to live with it everyday. You can be damn sure I read whatever I can get that is legitimate and not “pop” psychology. I cannot do battle against something that I do not understand. No one can. At least not effectively. I hope I can get through this without becoming cynical and jaded. I hope that I can get through this without any drama, or me going way off the radar of “normal” feeling.
I just hope that……hell, I do not know what I hope. I do not even know how I feel. I do not even know if I am feeling or if I am pretending which I am so good at. I just know something is off about me these days. I do not think I have allowed myself to feel because then I would be useless. Maybe I will let myself feel when I have time. Maybe.
I do not get some people. It isn’t for lack of trying. Every person I have spoken to today has either been very snide or has outright yelled at me. Which tends to make me really irritable. I am already having a “manic episode” which means that I am not sleeping, eating, or anything else I supposed to do to keep myself healthy. What I do not get is why other people cannot seem to see when I am “sick” (I hate that term), and that is when they choose to get strange on me.
I have no one to talk to about what is happening to me because nobody wants to hear it; they’ve got their own, much more important problems to deal with. I am being sued by my student loan provider, I am on the verge of being sued by my other student loan provider, if they win the payment amount per month that they want, I will be homeless because I simply can’t make nearly $300.00 in loan payments and pay rent. I figured it out. If I pay as the plans stand, I will have $662 (roughly) to pay rent, utilities, and try to feed myself. That’s impossible. I will be homeless. I will lose everything I have worked so hard to accomplish both socially and privately. Material possessions can be replaced eventually, but once you have been knocked down, it is really hard to stand back up.
I am going through a divorce and trying to live out the lease with my soon to be ex-husband. I can’t talk to him about how I feel about that. Most of the times, I feel okay about it. Neither of us were happy. But, then there are days like today where I really need someone to just listen to me. I feel very sad and lonely (as per the usual) today. I didn’t want to file for divorce, but it was the only thing that would resolve the entire situation between us. We fought all the time, made snide remarks about each other, he always defined me by my mental “interestingness”, but never by who I really am which is a normal person who feels life more intensely than most. I wrote him a note today trying to explain to him that I was not doing this out of malice, or that I can no longer tolerate him, but rather it was out of love for him and concern for his welfare that I was stepping out of the picture before I do any more damage, Apparently, it is very difficult to have a relationship with a bipolar person. I say it is very hard for a bipolar person to have a relationship with a chronically depressed person.
I basically have no friends anymore because he isolated me from them through very subtle emotional and verbal abuse. But, I am just as much to blame on that front. Sometimes, I think we fought about nothing just so we could hurt each other. It was really good for about the first year and a half, and then very slowly, it started to go downhill. Then it picked up momentum, and became it’s own living entity. But, how do you fight something you cannot see? How do you fix something when the other person is blaming you for nearly everything that has gone wrong, but they cannot see their own contribution to the demise of something that was once beautiful?
I am feeling very uncomfortable today. I cannot seem to say anything right to anyone I have encountered today. I have been flat out yelled at by another mentally “interesting” friend who is really struggling right now. Nothing I said was right, she shot down everything I suggested as “impossible,” she put down any idea I had that might have helped. I even offered to help her clean and organize her apartment, But, that was met with more yelling. I tried to tell her that people are willing to help her, but that she pushes them away by repeatedly turning down their offers to help her. Eventually, people will get tired of getting shot down every time they try to help her, and they will stop offering. Why beat a dead horse?
I feel very alone in this. I know that I will be okay in the long run, but the short run is a bitch. I feel like the wicked witch of the west. I feel like he was right all along; that the destruction of this relationship was mostly me. I changed him, I damaged him, I hurt him, I didn’t show enough affection, I didn’t do this and I didn’t do that. He never stops to think that he did two very important things: he spent hours on the Internet watching and collecting amateur porn which I felt very disrespected by, and he didn’t open a single book written by the people who are the experts on mood disorders to find out how to support me, or even to just understand me. To me, that shows a lack of real caring. It tells me that his love was conditional on my not getting upset about his porn addiction, and just let him carry on his merry little way thinking that he understands the multitude of bipolar manifestations.
I cannot talk to anyone about this. Everyone I know is happily married. When you are getting divorced, the last thing you want to do is talk to someone with a functional marriage. It just makes everything that iota worse than it already is. I find myself questioning whether I have made the right decision, or if I really am as dumb as I feel.
Well, tomorrow is “the” day. I am absolutely resolved to end this farce of a relationship and reclaim my happiness. I firmly believe that I was in a better place mentally before this relationship than I am now. Although, that may be a perception colored by sadness and anger at the demise of a marriage that was supposed to last for life. I have no idea. All I know is that I cannot sleep well, am not eating, am ignoring my appearance, and all the other hallmarks of severe anxiety. I know that this is the right thing to do, and probably has been for quite some time, but actually initiating a separation from someone you once were madly in love with is extremely scary. It means I will be alone with myself again. Just me and my cat. Although, if i am honest about it, I have been alone with my cat for a long time now. But, there was still someone to talk to. When you have nobody to talk to except your cat, then life gets a little weird. Cats are great little furry healers, though. Having a dog or a cat or whatever kind of pet you prefer gives you something to nurture that in turn helps you to remain okay. I digress because I am really freaking out.
I do not understand why this particular separation has me so anxious. It’s not like I have not gone through this before with previous relationships, one of which lasted about 9 years. When that one ended, I did feel like I was going through a divorce due to the length of the relationship. However, I had somewhere to focus my attention during that breakup. I was finishing college and working full-time so I had little time to sit and ruminate on the loss of my significant other. This time around though feels like a failure. I feel like I failed somehow. Like I didn’t do something right, and that, perhaps, everything I did do was in some way wrong or not enough. I didn’t feel that way with my other breakups of relationships. The toughest was the nine-year one. The saddest was one that lasted almost as long as this marriage did. It was only about three and one half years, but I felt a tremendous amount of loss and grief over that one.
I am not good at dating. I am in my early 40’s, and I am pretty well set in my ways at this point. I know what I want, what I like, and what I don’t want and what I do not like. That’s going to make dating difficult. That and I am feeling like somehow being mentally “interesting” is going to be an encumbrance to my meeting someone new. It’s not like I can get away with not being straightforward about the fact that I have manic depression, PTSD, occasional bouts of Agoraphobia, and Panic attacks. They are going to rear their ugly heads at some point just as they always do, and then, people either freak out and want to get away from me, or they try their best to understand but inevitably just cannot handle it, or they are supportive and try to learn what they can about the various challenges I face daily. It’s always one of the three. I think the one that hurts most is the person who tries to understand but ultimately just cannot handle the sometimes intense emotions that I feel. Then they leave. Either be supportive and educate yourself and stick around or freak out right away and be gone. That’s how I prefer it. Two options, no grey area.
I do not mind living alone. In fact, I may prefer it, but you cannot be alone all the time. A person will go nuts, literally, without other people. That’s another thing. I have to find a place to live that I can afford on my little SSDI check, and find a part time job to supplement my income. People take a look at my resume, and the first thing they ask is why I haven’t worked in 6 years. That’s a tough one to explain. It takes delicacy and a lot of inferences and innuendo to having been ill, but being better now. Then, they ask why I only worked two years in previous positions. Hmmmm, because I had uncontrollable mood swings and severe reactions to stress that were sometimes debilitating and I simply could not work for several days? This is where the Agoraphobia and Panic attacks live. i would try to get out the door, even going so far as to get ready to go, and at the last minute realize that the world was too scary that day, and I would call in sick. I was sick, in a matter of speaking, but not in a way that anyone would really understand unless they had had a similar experience. So, that should be fun. Not. I really want to try to finish my Paralegal degree because I think I would make a good one. I love research, I enjoy the legal profession, and I like to be support staff. However, that involves getting funding and getting to school.
I know I shouldn’t feel like a failure, but you reach 42 and your only accomplishment of note is that you finished undergraduate school, you kind of feel like you just didn’t meet your “potential.” There are so many highly functioning Manic Depressives, i just wonder if I am one of them. I do not feel mentally impaired in any way, I do not feel that I am not smart enough, I guess I feel like somehow I have deserved everything that life has thrown at me, and I have either caught the ball and ran with it, or I didn’t. For me, there seems to be no grey area. I am either manic (like I suspect I am now) or I am depressed, but I seem to reside mostly in the middle with mixed episodes: manic and depressed. I know that I am not depressed because the crushing weight that is depression is not sitting on my chest. Probably slightly manic: not eating, not sleeping, thoughts racing, restless and irritable.
I am very scared and sad and glad at the same time. I cannot live with someone who simply refuses to educate themselves about my “disorders,” I do not like that term. It is debilitating, and requires that you accept yourself as less than. But it sure is hard not to feel less than when you are ackowledging that you have lost. I intellectually understand that this divorce is not all my fault, that there is a role that my husband played, but I am experiencing the familiar heart-mind split. If i keep it intellectual, I am less sad, more pragmatic, and more realistic about this. If I let my heart into this, i will be a slobbery mess.
Okay, feeling calmer and more certain than ever that this is the right choice for my health both physical and mental. It has disintegrated to a point where verbal and emotional abuse is common. I grew up that way. I do not have to live like that as an adult. As an adult, I have a choice. Exercising that choice is a whole different world. I warned him that it would come to this, and all he said was don’t threaten me. It wasn’t a threat, it was a certainty. It just got accelerated, that’s all. Okay, I think the anxiety has passed. Maybe I’ll go throw some makeup at my face so I do not look so plain 🙂
A Bipolar Journey Through The Rabbit Hole 