Saw my very favorite therapist this week. I have been seeing her for nearly two years. And thankfully, she calmed my fears about being bi polar.
I did not realize how much that possible diagnosis was tearing me apart. It took what I was feeling and multiplied it. I could not get out of my head. I was judging every moment and thinking to myself "is this what a bi polar person would do?" Then things devolved until I was barely functioning.
I was reminded of my incredible support system, in friend and family form- They helped me get by and reminded me that any diagnosis is just words. That whatever I may be feeling about the words was getting in the way of who I actually am.
Sandy cleared that path in my brain. The groundwork was laid by those who loved me and she cemented over everything in a clear and concise way. She said "I have known you for a long time, and I really don't think you are bi polar."
And it was as if a switch flipped in my brain. After that appointment, I seem to be handling things much better. My constant state of "overwhelm" has decreased seriously.
I had been trying to be strong, trying not to go to therapy too much. I want to be better, but going to therapy can make me feel like I am sick. It is another reminder that I am "not normal." But it is obvious that I still need to go regularly. I can get my feet back, I can get strong again, I can work through this and come out on the other side, I need a little help.
It is difficult, realizing that I will probably be "dealing" with anxiety and depression for the rest of my life. I may be on medication long term. And while that does suck, it would suck a lot more if I was not taking care of myself. And that is one of my goals for this year. To put into practice the act of taking care of myself. I deserve it and my girls deserve to have a role model that takes care of herself.
So, on we go.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Can someone please tell me What I am?
Had a pretty good childhood. Have beautiful memories, have beautiful mother with enviable green eyes. Have a talented but tortured father. They are not together anymore. This part is good.
High school. Well, does anyone really love high school once they get out of it? I have some very fond memories of singing in musicals, sitting by the stream with my jade eyed boyfriend at sunset. But seriously? High school was not for me. I was a loner, but I didn't know it yet.
College. That is the good stuff. I made lifelong friends, I found my partner for life, I found out that I was not much like who I tried to be in high school. Same heart, same talents, different expressions and different experiences.
Marriage? That has been great too. I chose someone who makes me laugh, makes me feel protected, and knocks me off of my pedestal every once in a while. He is supportive, a but indulgent, and stubborn. He is the love of my life.
Kids... Well this is where it gets interesting. First child changed my universe. She is artistic and effervescent. She is radiant. And I love her. Second child shifted the axis of my universe and I got to see things from a different perspective. She is jovial and driven. She is magnetic. And I love her.
While in the hospital after having my second child, something in me changed. My chemistry, my wiring, my brain... Something within me broke. I broke.
Depression is nothing new to me. I have big emotions, always have. Depression became most prevalent after returning to work following the birth of my first daughter. But we got it under control.
When my wiring got fried... I became familiar with a more obnoxious foe. Panic. There had been episodes in the past, but nothing regular enough to scare me. In fact, with hindsight, I can put the word "panic" onto some emotional episodes as early as eighth grade...
But this time, panic was serious. Really freaking serious about making me feel like I was losing my mind. And it has been only partially controlled by medication and regular therapy...
You see at first, we thought (my psych and I) that I had some underlying depression that needed to be treated and once that was under control, the anxiety would stop. And it did stop, sort of. Well, not really. It would get better, I would figure out my triggers and then my Brain would find new ways to convince me that I was losing it. So we added some different medication. Not much, but that simple tweak made a BIG difference... For a month or two. But the clouds were still over my shoulders and the lightning flashes of anxiety continued to disrupt my life.
Even after a complete career change, a financial change, and a reduction in stress levels, I AM STILL CRAZY. Like a caged animal in my own body, like a dislodged object bouncing inside a snow globe. I am disconnected from myself. I am struggling, even with my hardest won efforts, I am struggling.
And I may be bi polar.
Wait, what? Bi Polar. Isn't that SERIOUS crazy? Like electro shock therapy crazy??? I am not THAT crazy, am I?
Well, probably not THAT crazy. I just learned there are levels of bi polar. Bi polar 1... The stereotypical, over dramatized version. And it is a horrible horrible disease with very high highs and very low lows. Then there is bi polar 2. Often confused for major depression. It seems a person just blips above the "normal" side of happy during hypomania, but resides mostly in depression land. Still life altering. Lastly there is cyclomythia. Let's call it bi polar mini. Will still mess up your life, but not to the degree of bi polar 1 or bi polar 2.
IF I am bi polar, and there is still a big IF there, i imagine I am one of the latter two. And if that is true, then a slight change in medication and continued therapy should help.
In the mean time (like the next 5weeks) as I wait for my body to react to new medication, I am experiencing the static divide. I am disconnected. it attacks me most in the quiet. When I would most prefer to drift off to sleep, when i am most exhausted, it strikes. Or, really whatverthehell I have strikes. And it takes more anxiety medication to make my heart stop thumping. Or i don't sleep until I am at the point that my body gives up. Usually around 2 a m.
But life does not stop for me. I have two beautiful daughters to civilize and cultivate. I have a loving husband who is holding my hand, propping me up, or carrying me across the chasms in my epineuronic space. He deserves a partner who can hold it together. And more than that, can thrive and reflect and emanate the joy and creativity we share.
So how do I do all of these things? Where am I going to end up? Which mental illness do I have?
Stay tuned, all of this soul purging has made me tired.
Good night, internets.
High school. Well, does anyone really love high school once they get out of it? I have some very fond memories of singing in musicals, sitting by the stream with my jade eyed boyfriend at sunset. But seriously? High school was not for me. I was a loner, but I didn't know it yet.
College. That is the good stuff. I made lifelong friends, I found my partner for life, I found out that I was not much like who I tried to be in high school. Same heart, same talents, different expressions and different experiences.
Marriage? That has been great too. I chose someone who makes me laugh, makes me feel protected, and knocks me off of my pedestal every once in a while. He is supportive, a but indulgent, and stubborn. He is the love of my life.
Kids... Well this is where it gets interesting. First child changed my universe. She is artistic and effervescent. She is radiant. And I love her. Second child shifted the axis of my universe and I got to see things from a different perspective. She is jovial and driven. She is magnetic. And I love her.
While in the hospital after having my second child, something in me changed. My chemistry, my wiring, my brain... Something within me broke. I broke.
Depression is nothing new to me. I have big emotions, always have. Depression became most prevalent after returning to work following the birth of my first daughter. But we got it under control.
When my wiring got fried... I became familiar with a more obnoxious foe. Panic. There had been episodes in the past, but nothing regular enough to scare me. In fact, with hindsight, I can put the word "panic" onto some emotional episodes as early as eighth grade...
But this time, panic was serious. Really freaking serious about making me feel like I was losing my mind. And it has been only partially controlled by medication and regular therapy...
You see at first, we thought (my psych and I) that I had some underlying depression that needed to be treated and once that was under control, the anxiety would stop. And it did stop, sort of. Well, not really. It would get better, I would figure out my triggers and then my Brain would find new ways to convince me that I was losing it. So we added some different medication. Not much, but that simple tweak made a BIG difference... For a month or two. But the clouds were still over my shoulders and the lightning flashes of anxiety continued to disrupt my life.
Even after a complete career change, a financial change, and a reduction in stress levels, I AM STILL CRAZY. Like a caged animal in my own body, like a dislodged object bouncing inside a snow globe. I am disconnected from myself. I am struggling, even with my hardest won efforts, I am struggling.
And I may be bi polar.
Wait, what? Bi Polar. Isn't that SERIOUS crazy? Like electro shock therapy crazy??? I am not THAT crazy, am I?
Well, probably not THAT crazy. I just learned there are levels of bi polar. Bi polar 1... The stereotypical, over dramatized version. And it is a horrible horrible disease with very high highs and very low lows. Then there is bi polar 2. Often confused for major depression. It seems a person just blips above the "normal" side of happy during hypomania, but resides mostly in depression land. Still life altering. Lastly there is cyclomythia. Let's call it bi polar mini. Will still mess up your life, but not to the degree of bi polar 1 or bi polar 2.
IF I am bi polar, and there is still a big IF there, i imagine I am one of the latter two. And if that is true, then a slight change in medication and continued therapy should help.
In the mean time (like the next 5weeks) as I wait for my body to react to new medication, I am experiencing the static divide. I am disconnected. it attacks me most in the quiet. When I would most prefer to drift off to sleep, when i am most exhausted, it strikes. Or, really whatverthehell I have strikes. And it takes more anxiety medication to make my heart stop thumping. Or i don't sleep until I am at the point that my body gives up. Usually around 2 a m.
But life does not stop for me. I have two beautiful daughters to civilize and cultivate. I have a loving husband who is holding my hand, propping me up, or carrying me across the chasms in my epineuronic space. He deserves a partner who can hold it together. And more than that, can thrive and reflect and emanate the joy and creativity we share.
So how do I do all of these things? Where am I going to end up? Which mental illness do I have?
Stay tuned, all of this soul purging has made me tired.
Good night, internets.
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