Mood: I can't even number this one. Flying high as a kite, but with rage instead of happiness. I am quite possibly angrier than I have ever been in my motherfucking life. Is it possible to be a 10 and a -10 at the same time?
Meds: I took them. I don't know what time it was.
Sleep: Somewhere between 6 and 8 hours is all I know.
Other: Blind. Motherfucking. Rage.
In addition to all the pay issues with my main company--not ever getting paid on time, not getting paid correctly when I do get paid, paychecks being weeks late, boss with a coke problem, etc.--I just had another problem that I never thought would happen.
My. Fucking. Paycheck. BOUNCED.
Now, mind you, it was part of a split check from LAST WEEK. I was supposed to get the money on 2-18. I got $75 of it on 2-25, and I got the remaining $140 today. Nothing for the $200+ I was supposed to get on 2-25.
Then, when I took a look at my account this afternoon after I got up, I saw a $140 debit reversal for that $140 deposit that went in this morning. I called the bank to ask what that meant, and they told me that the deposit was canceled on the company's end.
In other words, someone either a.) put a stop-payment on my direct deposit, or b.) the company's bank didn't let the transaction go through because of insufficient funds.
Now. I'll let that sink in for a moment. MY GODDAMN PAYCHECK BOUNCED!
I have rent due by Friday. There's already a late fee (that I shouldn't owe) tacked onto rent from last month. My credit card payment is due Friday. My boss owes me $342 in BACK checks and will owe me another $100 on Friday, which I know will never get here on time. So in the last three weeks, she's paid me a whole $75 for the nearly $500 she owes me.
I'm going to resist the urge to rant and rave here because I know it's going to make me even madder, and I don't need that at this point. But I can promise that bitch this: If it's not rectified by Friday, and all the money she owes me is not in my account, I will END HER. Personally. Professionally. Completely. I have the means at my disposal to do so, and I am not afraid to use them.
That is all.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Whew
Mood: 2
Meds: 2 pm
Sleep: 6 hours
Other: I'm at the end of one very emotional, very roller-coaster-esque weekend. On one hand, I'm not happy that Kitty's gone, but on the other hand, I'm glad for the break.
There's so much I need to talk about right now, but I have zero motivation to do it. I want to go have a long nap, but the lack of work yesterday sort of precludes that. Hopefully, after work tonight and a long night's sleep, I will be able to formulate a more intelligible blog post tomorrow. No promises, though. None whatsoever.
Meds: 2 pm
Sleep: 6 hours
Other: I'm at the end of one very emotional, very roller-coaster-esque weekend. On one hand, I'm not happy that Kitty's gone, but on the other hand, I'm glad for the break.
There's so much I need to talk about right now, but I have zero motivation to do it. I want to go have a long nap, but the lack of work yesterday sort of precludes that. Hopefully, after work tonight and a long night's sleep, I will be able to formulate a more intelligible blog post tomorrow. No promises, though. None whatsoever.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Goddammit
Mood: Pre-9 pm, it was probably a 4. Now it's more -4.
Meds: 2 pm-ish
Sleep: 8 hours
Other: Had a good day up until a few minutes ago. I honestly don't know why I even bother anymore. And, no, I don't care to elaborate.
Meds: 2 pm-ish
Sleep: 8 hours
Other: Had a good day up until a few minutes ago. I honestly don't know why I even bother anymore. And, no, I don't care to elaborate.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Also
I feel like every I know has changed. I realize people change. I know this. But it hardly ever seems as if they change for the better. The people I know who I thought were destined for greatness have settled for mediocrity. There is no passion in these people, nothing that consumes them anymore. There are their boring lives in their boring houses in their boring neighborhoods. There are their boring jobs where they don't realize they're just another cog in the machine, expendable and utterly replaceable. There's nothing for me to relate to anymore.
All the dreams, all the passion, all the color is gone from their lives. They live paycheck to paycheck, in hopes of nothing more than to pay their rent or their mortgage, have a place to sleep, food to eat, and more, more, more of their boring existence.
I don't know these people. They are not the people I care about. They're clones of every other human being on the face of the planet, content in their mediocrity, convinced that they need nothing else. No more knowledge, no more real human interaction, no more dreams or vivacity or anything. They've found their bubble, and they've insulated themselves in, and that's it. They care of nothing outside their bubbles, these closed-minded people, and I realize I'm an oddity to them. Something exotic, something mysterious, a dreamer, someone who's still full of the same passion that might've once consumed them.
But to them, there's something wrong with me. If it were an earlier time, I'd be locked away in a nuthouse or even burned at the stake. I am the one who makes them question their shitty existence, if they even have enough mind left that hasn't been numbed by their bleak, gray lives. Otherwise, they think nothing of me. Either way, I am something to be pushed away, to be ground underfoot so that I may become like them, to be reviled, to be hated. All because I want something more than their pathetic existences.
It's hard realizing this. It hurts. It hurts that the people I've known, loved, laughed with, cried with, and treasured are all gone. Now there are only shadows of what they once were, but it seems as if they're all ok with that, at least superficially. They can't carry on a conversation about anything anymore. There are no thoughts in their empty heads. If they thought, they might realize how desperate their situations are, and we can't have that. And so we bump along, close to one another in proximity, but not in anything else. They exist, complacent in their own conformity.
And then there's me. I live. I still see everything in color instead of in shades of gray. There is still a fire that burns inside of me. I lost it for awhile; I almost became complacent like them. But I still have passion within. I still have hopes and dreams. I still want to be surrounded with beauty and dedicate my life to my art. Most of all--and this is a huge distinction--I want to be happy, soaringly, heart-rendingly, deeply, joyfully happy, and not content. People use the words interchangeably, but there is a world of difference between them.
And so for those people, I leave this poem by Clare Rossini, which I've loved since the first time I read it, when I was 16. It's fitting, I think.
Valediction
Your Mozart is not my Mozart anymore.
That hour has passed,
The harmony that thrilled us, the false sun
We warmed to. Your days are yours now
To pile up like dry leaves in your past, from which my past
Has broken off, diverged, gone
Into another woods altogether. No, I cannot make my way over
To you, to touch your face or other parts, not even those whose ache
I can feel at the great distance
That has fallen between us like a world.
I have measured the hours and days since we touched.
Each one healed as I handled it. In them grew this voice, still singing
Out of doubt and longing, a stricken sound.
You are struck from the record. Your hand, absolved
Of my flagrant touch. Dismantle the room
Where we've become marble figures, a white
Sculptured kiss; where we sat listening
To your Mozart, not mine.
Clare Rossini
All the dreams, all the passion, all the color is gone from their lives. They live paycheck to paycheck, in hopes of nothing more than to pay their rent or their mortgage, have a place to sleep, food to eat, and more, more, more of their boring existence.
I don't know these people. They are not the people I care about. They're clones of every other human being on the face of the planet, content in their mediocrity, convinced that they need nothing else. No more knowledge, no more real human interaction, no more dreams or vivacity or anything. They've found their bubble, and they've insulated themselves in, and that's it. They care of nothing outside their bubbles, these closed-minded people, and I realize I'm an oddity to them. Something exotic, something mysterious, a dreamer, someone who's still full of the same passion that might've once consumed them.
But to them, there's something wrong with me. If it were an earlier time, I'd be locked away in a nuthouse or even burned at the stake. I am the one who makes them question their shitty existence, if they even have enough mind left that hasn't been numbed by their bleak, gray lives. Otherwise, they think nothing of me. Either way, I am something to be pushed away, to be ground underfoot so that I may become like them, to be reviled, to be hated. All because I want something more than their pathetic existences.
It's hard realizing this. It hurts. It hurts that the people I've known, loved, laughed with, cried with, and treasured are all gone. Now there are only shadows of what they once were, but it seems as if they're all ok with that, at least superficially. They can't carry on a conversation about anything anymore. There are no thoughts in their empty heads. If they thought, they might realize how desperate their situations are, and we can't have that. And so we bump along, close to one another in proximity, but not in anything else. They exist, complacent in their own conformity.
And then there's me. I live. I still see everything in color instead of in shades of gray. There is still a fire that burns inside of me. I lost it for awhile; I almost became complacent like them. But I still have passion within. I still have hopes and dreams. I still want to be surrounded with beauty and dedicate my life to my art. Most of all--and this is a huge distinction--I want to be happy, soaringly, heart-rendingly, deeply, joyfully happy, and not content. People use the words interchangeably, but there is a world of difference between them.
And so for those people, I leave this poem by Clare Rossini, which I've loved since the first time I read it, when I was 16. It's fitting, I think.
Valediction
Your Mozart is not my Mozart anymore.
That hour has passed,
The harmony that thrilled us, the false sun
We warmed to. Your days are yours now
To pile up like dry leaves in your past, from which my past
Has broken off, diverged, gone
Into another woods altogether. No, I cannot make my way over
To you, to touch your face or other parts, not even those whose ache
I can feel at the great distance
That has fallen between us like a world.
I have measured the hours and days since we touched.
Each one healed as I handled it. In them grew this voice, still singing
Out of doubt and longing, a stricken sound.
You are struck from the record. Your hand, absolved
Of my flagrant touch. Dismantle the room
Where we've become marble figures, a white
Sculptured kiss; where we sat listening
To your Mozart, not mine.
Clare Rossini
Fuck
Mood: -3
Meds: 12 pm?
Sleep: 7-8 hours
Other: The tension here is so fucking thick, you could cut it with a knife. No, actually, there's so much tension that you'd probably need a chain saw. Fangbunny can't stand Kitty, and Kitty can't stand Fangbunny, and somehow, I feel like it's all my fault. It's throwing me into a state, and I don't know if I can handle it or not. I've asked Kitty to engage more, but she just stonewalled. I've tried to pull Fangbunny in a little more, but she's staying aloof. I. Don't. Know. What. To. Do.
I just wish that my feelings meant enough to people that they'd alter their behavior, even just a little, for the benefit of my feelings. But nobody ever has, and nobody ever will. And then they wonder why I'm always angry and run myself crazy. *Sigh*
I'm thinking seriously about taking this blog over to Wordpress. Blogger fucks up my posts every time I try to use it. The other day, it ate my paragraph breaks. Yesterday, it underlined everything in every post, and I don't know WHY. So if you're reading this and are confused, I'm really sorry. Between the shitty formatting and the fact that I'm having problems writing, spelling, and coming up with the correct words, it's gotta be like reading something written by a 4-year-old.
I'm tired, I'm sad, I'm upset, and I don't know how I'm going to get through this weekend. I wanted to have fun and talk and engage and do things, even though I'm broke. But it's looking like it's going to be every man for himself.
God, strike me dead now, so I don't have to deal with all the bullshit anymore.
Meds: 12 pm?
Sleep: 7-8 hours
Other: The tension here is so fucking thick, you could cut it with a knife. No, actually, there's so much tension that you'd probably need a chain saw. Fangbunny can't stand Kitty, and Kitty can't stand Fangbunny, and somehow, I feel like it's all my fault. It's throwing me into a state, and I don't know if I can handle it or not. I've asked Kitty to engage more, but she just stonewalled. I've tried to pull Fangbunny in a little more, but she's staying aloof. I. Don't. Know. What. To. Do.
I just wish that my feelings meant enough to people that they'd alter their behavior, even just a little, for the benefit of my feelings. But nobody ever has, and nobody ever will. And then they wonder why I'm always angry and run myself crazy. *Sigh*
I'm thinking seriously about taking this blog over to Wordpress. Blogger fucks up my posts every time I try to use it. The other day, it ate my paragraph breaks. Yesterday, it underlined everything in every post, and I don't know WHY. So if you're reading this and are confused, I'm really sorry. Between the shitty formatting and the fact that I'm having problems writing, spelling, and coming up with the correct words, it's gotta be like reading something written by a 4-year-old.
I'm tired, I'm sad, I'm upset, and I don't know how I'm going to get through this weekend. I wanted to have fun and talk and engage and do things, even though I'm broke. But it's looking like it's going to be every man for himself.
God, strike me dead now, so I don't have to deal with all the bullshit anymore.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Exercise 3
Mood: 1ish
Meds: 1 pm
Sleep: Somewhere between 8 and 9 hours
Other: I'm flat broke for at least the next 2 weeks. It's going to suck. I'm going to be so sick of sandwiches that I might shank the next person I see holding a piece of bread. Yes, we'll be cooking, too, but it's kind of a pain in the ass to cook and work at the same time. In other news, Kitty is coming here tonight for a long weekend. I hope we'll have a good time. I'm sure we will, though, even though we'll probably have to just sit at home mostly 'cause I'm broke. :( There have been promises of Chinese, however. ;)
I'm going to go ahead and do another exercise from my workbook. This one is on "Surviving A Crisis Without Making It Worse," which, God knows, I need to learn how to do. So here we go.
The first thing that's in the chapter is a list of things people do to make themselves feel better in the short-term that are ultimately harmful. Because I'm too lazy to screenshot it and make it an image, I'm just going to type it out. The ones that I'm guilty of will have "X"s beside it.
_X_ Drinking alcohol
_X_ Overeating
___ Cutting yourself
_X_ Verbally lashing out at someone
_X_ Avoiding other people or isolating yourself
___ Using drugs
___ Engaging in disordered eating (fasting, purging, etc.)
___ Gambling
___ Throwing things
_X_ Engaging in dangerous sexual practices (for instance, having unprotected sex or having sex with someone you just met)
_X_ Using sleep to escape
___ Threatening suicide
___ Becoming violent toward others
___ Threatening others
___ Banging your head against a wall
___ Pulling out your hair
___ Attempting suicide
There's a list for "other," but I think the ones I checked about cover it. As horrible as I can be, I think that a quick look at this list oughta tell me that I'm not nearly as bad as I could be. Nor am I as bad as people sometimes make me out to be. That's good because it means I don't have nearly as much work to do as far as crisis management as I was afraid I did.
The next part is a cost/benefit analysis. How much good this is going to do me, I have no idea. My crazy rarely responds to logic, but we'll give it a shot, anyway. The particular behavior I'm going to choose for this analysis is "being a bitch." I'm picking it because it covers a number of different actions that I engage in. Basically, I'm supposed to put a number (1-5) beside each thing that corresponds to my motivation for doing these things and/or good reasons to not do it. I'm using a combination of my own motivations and the sample ones they offer in the book. So here we go.
Cost/Benefit Analysis Of "Being A Bitch"
Benefits of Self-Destructive Coping Behavior: Being a Bitch
_1_ Helps relax and calm me
_4_ Feels good
_5_ Don't have to face problems
_3_ Helps avoid/escape emotions
_1_ Distracting
_5_ Sick happiness in realizing that other people now hurt as much as I do, i.e., masochism by proxy
_3_ Punishing self by pushing other people away is cathartic in the short-term because I "deserve" the punishment
Total: 22
Costs of Self-Destructive Coping Behavior: Being a Bitch
_5_ Feel guilty afterward
_5_ Fucks up every single relationship (friend, romantic, etc.) I've ever had
_5_ Vicious cycle of making my bipolar symptoms worse
_4_ Ultimately makes me feel very depressed later because I've destroyed something yet again; this is separate from both guilt and bipolar symptoms
_3_ Avoidance technique: What was bothering me in the first place inevitably comes back because it was never resolved
_5_ Feelings that come with the aftermath make it hard to function for weeks
Total: 27
Benefits of Healthy Coping: Not Being a Bitch
_3_ Makes me deal with things
_4_ Feel better about myself
_5_ Relationships are better
_3_ Not as great a risk to my mental health
_4_ Easier to go back to functioning once the storm has passed
_2_ Forces me to learn other ways to cope
Total: 21
Costs of Healthy Coping: Not Being a Bitch
_5_ Realize I am the only one who feels like shit, as the rest of the world goes along happily, neither knowing nor caring that I'm hurting because they're only concerned with themselves and what they want
_4_ Have to find other ways to cope that may not make me feel as good in the short-term
_4_ Have to face problems and emotions
_2_ No quick escape
_4_ Experience hurt faster because there's no rush of anger and adrenaline to stave it off
Total: 19
So the benefits of being a bitch vs. the costs are 27 vs. 22. The benefits of not being a bitch vs. the costs are 21 vs. 19. The fact that I can't think of other ways to handle problems--particularly interpersonal problems--is most likely the factor in how close the numbers are, especially the last set. But no worries. There's a section farther along in the book that covers that, too.
Ok, this part is going to be a reminder to me: ways to distract myself from the desire to engage in self-destructive behaviors. The bolded parts are the book's instructions; the non-bolded parts are my own examples.
Reframe: Tell myself "I've gotten through this shit before; I'll do it again." Read a book completely unrelated to my problems and empathize with the characters. Try to find meaning in the crisis (i.e., if there were no "bad," I'd never really know what "good" is).
Mindfully engage in an activity: The book thing again. Go for a walk. (I know this one works.) Go somewhere that's not my apartment. Word games. Bake something. Play with makeup. See if any of this changes the way I feel about something.
Do something for someone else: I'd normally cook or bake for friends, but nobody but Fangbunny and me are in this county anymore. So this is basically going to be "do something nice for Fangbunny" or "check up on other friends online."
Intense sensations: This one is iffy for me. It ventures too close to the random sex/BDSM play thing. If it's anything other than a hot bath, I'd better stay away from this.
Shut it out: The suggestion here is to go somewhere quiet and peaceful. (For me, this means cool and relatively dark.) Then, make a list of the problems that are making me feel like shit. Then, for each of the items, I'm supposed to ask myself if I can fix the problem right then. If the answer's yes, then shutting out isn't the way to handle it, but if the answer's no, then the problems can be shelved for a little while until I'm more able to handle it. Then, for the problems that can be shelved, I'm supposed to imagine an image that represents these individual problems and imagine locking them away in a box that's stashed away in the back of a closet somewhere. I have to admit, this one seems kind of dubious as far as its effectiveness, but I suppose it's worth a shot if all else fails.
Think neutral thoughts: Sing songs (badly). Wonder what happens when we die. Think about the beach. Remember all the places I want to go, but have never been to yet.
Take a break: Go shopping (or window-shopping because I probably won't have money). Go to the park. Take a day off work and watch stupid movies.
This is almost the end. I'm going to write out the summary of urge management here, then I'm done.
Summary Of Urge Management
1.) When you first notice an urge, set a timer for fifteen minutes and make a commitment to yourself not to act on the urge for that period of time.
2.) Pull out your cost/benefit analysis exercise for the urge you're experiencing, and remind yourself of the reasons you don't want to act on the urge.
3.) Resist acting on the urge: reframe, mindfully engage in activities, do something for someone else, generate intense sensations, shut out the situation, think neutral thoughts, and take a break. Use your personal skill list to help you remember which skills work best for you.
4.) Re-examine your urge after fifteen minutes. If it remains intense, try to set the timer for another fifteen minutes and continue using skills to resist acting on the urge. If it has disappeared or at least come down to a tolerable level, get on with your day.
5.) Remember that the idea behind these skills is only to get you through the crisis without making it worse. They will not necessarily make your problems go away or make you feel better.
Ok, I'm finished. I'll need to make cost/benefit analysis for other behaviors, too, but this post is long enough for now. Maybe I'll do some later, though.
Gone to work now.
Meds: 1 pm
Sleep: Somewhere between 8 and 9 hours
Other: I'm flat broke for at least the next 2 weeks. It's going to suck. I'm going to be so sick of sandwiches that I might shank the next person I see holding a piece of bread. Yes, we'll be cooking, too, but it's kind of a pain in the ass to cook and work at the same time. In other news, Kitty is coming here tonight for a long weekend. I hope we'll have a good time. I'm sure we will, though, even though we'll probably have to just sit at home mostly 'cause I'm broke. :( There have been promises of Chinese, however. ;)
I'm going to go ahead and do another exercise from my workbook. This one is on "Surviving A Crisis Without Making It Worse," which, God knows, I need to learn how to do. So here we go.
The first thing that's in the chapter is a list of things people do to make themselves feel better in the short-term that are ultimately harmful. Because I'm too lazy to screenshot it and make it an image, I'm just going to type it out. The ones that I'm guilty of will have "X"s beside it.
_X_ Drinking alcohol
_X_ Overeating
___ Cutting yourself
_X_ Verbally lashing out at someone
_X_ Avoiding other people or isolating yourself
___ Using drugs
___ Engaging in disordered eating (fasting, purging, etc.)
___ Gambling
___ Throwing things
_X_ Engaging in dangerous sexual practices (for instance, having unprotected sex or having sex with someone you just met)
_X_ Using sleep to escape
___ Threatening suicide
___ Becoming violent toward others
___ Threatening others
___ Banging your head against a wall
___ Pulling out your hair
___ Attempting suicide
There's a list for "other," but I think the ones I checked about cover it. As horrible as I can be, I think that a quick look at this list oughta tell me that I'm not nearly as bad as I could be. Nor am I as bad as people sometimes make me out to be. That's good because it means I don't have nearly as much work to do as far as crisis management as I was afraid I did.
The next part is a cost/benefit analysis. How much good this is going to do me, I have no idea. My crazy rarely responds to logic, but we'll give it a shot, anyway. The particular behavior I'm going to choose for this analysis is "being a bitch." I'm picking it because it covers a number of different actions that I engage in. Basically, I'm supposed to put a number (1-5) beside each thing that corresponds to my motivation for doing these things and/or good reasons to not do it. I'm using a combination of my own motivations and the sample ones they offer in the book. So here we go.
Cost/Benefit Analysis Of "Being A Bitch"
Benefits of Self-Destructive Coping Behavior: Being a Bitch
_1_ Helps relax and calm me
_4_ Feels good
_5_ Don't have to face problems
_3_ Helps avoid/escape emotions
_1_ Distracting
_5_ Sick happiness in realizing that other people now hurt as much as I do, i.e., masochism by proxy
_3_ Punishing self by pushing other people away is cathartic in the short-term because I "deserve" the punishment
Total: 22
Costs of Self-Destructive Coping Behavior: Being a Bitch
_5_ Feel guilty afterward
_5_ Fucks up every single relationship (friend, romantic, etc.) I've ever had
_5_ Vicious cycle of making my bipolar symptoms worse
_4_ Ultimately makes me feel very depressed later because I've destroyed something yet again; this is separate from both guilt and bipolar symptoms
_3_ Avoidance technique: What was bothering me in the first place inevitably comes back because it was never resolved
_5_ Feelings that come with the aftermath make it hard to function for weeks
Total: 27
Benefits of Healthy Coping: Not Being a Bitch
_3_ Makes me deal with things
_4_ Feel better about myself
_5_ Relationships are better
_3_ Not as great a risk to my mental health
_4_ Easier to go back to functioning once the storm has passed
_2_ Forces me to learn other ways to cope
Total: 21
Costs of Healthy Coping: Not Being a Bitch
_5_ Realize I am the only one who feels like shit, as the rest of the world goes along happily, neither knowing nor caring that I'm hurting because they're only concerned with themselves and what they want
_4_ Have to find other ways to cope that may not make me feel as good in the short-term
_4_ Have to face problems and emotions
_2_ No quick escape
_4_ Experience hurt faster because there's no rush of anger and adrenaline to stave it off
Total: 19
So the benefits of being a bitch vs. the costs are 27 vs. 22. The benefits of not being a bitch vs. the costs are 21 vs. 19. The fact that I can't think of other ways to handle problems--particularly interpersonal problems--is most likely the factor in how close the numbers are, especially the last set. But no worries. There's a section farther along in the book that covers that, too.
Ok, this part is going to be a reminder to me: ways to distract myself from the desire to engage in self-destructive behaviors. The bolded parts are the book's instructions; the non-bolded parts are my own examples.
Reframe: Tell myself "I've gotten through this shit before; I'll do it again." Read a book completely unrelated to my problems and empathize with the characters. Try to find meaning in the crisis (i.e., if there were no "bad," I'd never really know what "good" is).
Mindfully engage in an activity: The book thing again. Go for a walk. (I know this one works.) Go somewhere that's not my apartment. Word games. Bake something. Play with makeup. See if any of this changes the way I feel about something.
Do something for someone else: I'd normally cook or bake for friends, but nobody but Fangbunny and me are in this county anymore. So this is basically going to be "do something nice for Fangbunny" or "check up on other friends online."
Intense sensations: This one is iffy for me. It ventures too close to the random sex/BDSM play thing. If it's anything other than a hot bath, I'd better stay away from this.
Shut it out: The suggestion here is to go somewhere quiet and peaceful. (For me, this means cool and relatively dark.) Then, make a list of the problems that are making me feel like shit. Then, for each of the items, I'm supposed to ask myself if I can fix the problem right then. If the answer's yes, then shutting out isn't the way to handle it, but if the answer's no, then the problems can be shelved for a little while until I'm more able to handle it. Then, for the problems that can be shelved, I'm supposed to imagine an image that represents these individual problems and imagine locking them away in a box that's stashed away in the back of a closet somewhere. I have to admit, this one seems kind of dubious as far as its effectiveness, but I suppose it's worth a shot if all else fails.
Think neutral thoughts: Sing songs (badly). Wonder what happens when we die. Think about the beach. Remember all the places I want to go, but have never been to yet.
Take a break: Go shopping (or window-shopping because I probably won't have money). Go to the park. Take a day off work and watch stupid movies.
This is almost the end. I'm going to write out the summary of urge management here, then I'm done.
Summary Of Urge Management
1.) When you first notice an urge, set a timer for fifteen minutes and make a commitment to yourself not to act on the urge for that period of time.
2.) Pull out your cost/benefit analysis exercise for the urge you're experiencing, and remind yourself of the reasons you don't want to act on the urge.
3.) Resist acting on the urge: reframe, mindfully engage in activities, do something for someone else, generate intense sensations, shut out the situation, think neutral thoughts, and take a break. Use your personal skill list to help you remember which skills work best for you.
4.) Re-examine your urge after fifteen minutes. If it remains intense, try to set the timer for another fifteen minutes and continue using skills to resist acting on the urge. If it has disappeared or at least come down to a tolerable level, get on with your day.
5.) Remember that the idea behind these skills is only to get you through the crisis without making it worse. They will not necessarily make your problems go away or make you feel better.
Ok, I'm finished. I'll need to make cost/benefit analysis for other behaviors, too, but this post is long enough for now. Maybe I'll do some later, though.
Gone to work now.
Side Effects
Ok, a quick post before bed.
I was talking to Fangbunny (and Kitty, too) earlier. I'm having side effect issues, and it's driving me nuts.
I hate to be that asshole who's always got something wrong with her because she wants attention. God knows, I already know enough people who do that shit. *Eyeroll* But I really am having problems here.
The meds work. There's no doubt about that. And it's not like the side effects are bad enough to justify stopping the medication. On the other hand...ugh. :(
Wellbutrin gives me tremors occasionally, and it makes my eyes really sensitive to light and stuff, but those things I can deal with. The Lamictal is what really fucks me up, and it's getting rough.
I can't think straight anymore. My thoughts get all jumbled, and it's even worse when they come out of my mouth. I have problems knowing the right word to use. I mean, I know that what I'm thinking or saying is wrong, but I can't get the right one to come out. Also, spelling. It's horrible.
It also makes me clumsy and forgetful, hence the leaving my hoodie in the buggy at Walmart. :(
The worst part is that now I'm getting headaches that I can't get rid of. I do everything I can (imbibing caffeine, drinking Gatorade to kill dehydration, taking Advil, eating, dark room, etc.), but the damn things won't go away. Oddly enough, though, I don't wake up with them. They come on 3-4 hours later.
Unfortunately, Lamictal is rather notorious for causing headaches. I thought I was lucky and wasn't getting them, but apparently, they've come on full-force now. I can't keep taking Advil every day, or I'll develop rebound headaches. Since they come on several hours after I get up (and thus a few hours after I take my meds), I'm tempted to say Lamictal is the culprit here. It's been every day for the last couple of weeks, and I had sporadic ones before that.
If it weren't for the fact that I'm stable and enjoy being that way, I'd stop taking it for a day or two to see if the headaches abate. I'm not that brave, though.
I'm not saying the Lamictal is causing the headaches, but it's the most likely suspect. Add that in with the other stuff, and it's turning into a problem.
Again, I'm not going to stop taking the Lamictal, but it'd be nice if there were an alternative that would keep me sane and not give me all these ridiculous brain problems. I suppose if it keeps up, when I go back to the doctor in May or June or whenever it is, I can mention it then. Then, there'll be the possibility of either changing meds--which I really don't want to go through--or getting something to help with the headaches.
There's not really a point to this post. I just wanted to bitch about side effects and felt bad that I was probably driving Fangbunny nuts with it. Guess I just wanted some sympathy from someone besides poor Fangbunny, LOL.
Night, all.
I was talking to Fangbunny (and Kitty, too) earlier. I'm having side effect issues, and it's driving me nuts.
I hate to be that asshole who's always got something wrong with her because she wants attention. God knows, I already know enough people who do that shit. *Eyeroll* But I really am having problems here.
The meds work. There's no doubt about that. And it's not like the side effects are bad enough to justify stopping the medication. On the other hand...ugh. :(
Wellbutrin gives me tremors occasionally, and it makes my eyes really sensitive to light and stuff, but those things I can deal with. The Lamictal is what really fucks me up, and it's getting rough.
I can't think straight anymore. My thoughts get all jumbled, and it's even worse when they come out of my mouth. I have problems knowing the right word to use. I mean, I know that what I'm thinking or saying is wrong, but I can't get the right one to come out. Also, spelling. It's horrible.
It also makes me clumsy and forgetful, hence the leaving my hoodie in the buggy at Walmart. :(
The worst part is that now I'm getting headaches that I can't get rid of. I do everything I can (imbibing caffeine, drinking Gatorade to kill dehydration, taking Advil, eating, dark room, etc.), but the damn things won't go away. Oddly enough, though, I don't wake up with them. They come on 3-4 hours later.
Unfortunately, Lamictal is rather notorious for causing headaches. I thought I was lucky and wasn't getting them, but apparently, they've come on full-force now. I can't keep taking Advil every day, or I'll develop rebound headaches. Since they come on several hours after I get up (and thus a few hours after I take my meds), I'm tempted to say Lamictal is the culprit here. It's been every day for the last couple of weeks, and I had sporadic ones before that.
If it weren't for the fact that I'm stable and enjoy being that way, I'd stop taking it for a day or two to see if the headaches abate. I'm not that brave, though.
I'm not saying the Lamictal is causing the headaches, but it's the most likely suspect. Add that in with the other stuff, and it's turning into a problem.
Again, I'm not going to stop taking the Lamictal, but it'd be nice if there were an alternative that would keep me sane and not give me all these ridiculous brain problems. I suppose if it keeps up, when I go back to the doctor in May or June or whenever it is, I can mention it then. Then, there'll be the possibility of either changing meds--which I really don't want to go through--or getting something to help with the headaches.
There's not really a point to this post. I just wanted to bitch about side effects and felt bad that I was probably driving Fangbunny nuts with it. Guess I just wanted some sympathy from someone besides poor Fangbunny, LOL.
Night, all.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Things That Make Me Happy
Mood: 3.5
Meds: 1:30 pm
Sleep: 9 hours
Other: Overall, things seem to be ok. I'm working, and it seems to be picking up. My boss gave Fangbunny and I our new girls today. I've got money coming. It's not going to be enough to pay all the bills, but it's coming nonetheless. If I didn't have a massive credit card bill AND rent all due at the first of the month, my life would be so much easier. Otherwise, things are pretty quiet. Still nothing from him, and, honestly, I'm wondering if I should give up hope there. I don't want to, but...yeah. That's another blog, I suppose.
Fangbunny's in the kitchen making French toast and eggs, and after we eat, I guess we'll work all night. We may have taken off early last night to play SingStar Pop on her PS2. Yes, the PS2 is ancient, but the games used are dirt-cheap, and, yes, I'm a horrible singer, and she's really good, but whatever. It amused us. In my defense, I'm NOT tone-deaf. I can hear every fuck-up I make. I just don't know how to fix the fuck-up, and I'm also hopeless at staying on beat because my sense of rhythm sucks. Also why I can't dance.
Anyway, for reasons completely unbeknownst to me, Blogger randomly eats my paragraph breaks. So if anyone tried to read that entry yesterday with all the paragraphs squished together before I realized it was messed up, I apologize profusely. It's fixed now, and I'm going to make sure that this one doesn't do the same thing when I post it.
Today's blog is going to be about things that make me happy. I said I was going to do this, and I intend to do it. Plus, I've been wanting to do it for awhile. It's a welcome change from my various pathologies, at least in my opinion. So without further ado, here's the list. Some are unchanging, and some are things that just please me now and may annoy me later. We shall see
~Josh Turner songs. His voice is divine. If the man sang slow jams, it'd be total baby-making music. Also, almost every song of his that he releases as a single is so cute and upbeat.
~The Jane Eyre movie that's coming out on March 11th. I will be there on the release date if I have to go by myself. Fangbunny makes fun of me for my love of Jane Eyre (the book), but I think it's fantastic. I read it again last week for the millionth time, and I cried again at the end, like I always do. If the movie sucks, I'm going to be sad. Here's the trailer if you want to check it out: Jane Eyre (2011). Rochester--as in the character in the book--is pretty much my perfect man in every way. Oh, Byronic heroes, I do so love you, even in real life...and it tends to be my downfall.
~Going places that aren't fast food restaurants or the grocery store. This doesn't happen very much anymore because I'm poor, so that's probably another reason why I'm so excited about the Jane Eyre movie. I get to get out of the house!
~Holidays. Well, most of them, anyway. My favorite holiday is coming up. Yes, Easter, don't judge me. Halloween is my second-favorite. Then, I suppose it's Valentine's Day and Christmas tied for third. I like the 4th of July, too, for fireworks and booze, LOL. I always wish I could do something phenomenal for holidays.
~Stuffed animals. My inner three-year-old rejoices at all things stuffie. Ditto for board games, model horses, Hello Kitty, and Disney Princess shit. I am a sucker for all things cute, and the toy stores are some of my favorite places.
~Music. I have my likes and dislikes as far as music goes, of course, but in general, I like music. It can make me happy, sad, angry, or most any other emotion just by being what it is. Not too many things can do that, so it makes me happy.
~Almost all things sweet and cheesy. Fangbunny got a Valentine's gift in the mail from her friend in Massachusetts, and I almost cried, even though it had nothing to do with me.
~Books. Nothing more to say there.
~The beach. Only, unlike most people, I like it better at night.
~Traveling. It doesn't really matter where. I just like going places I've never been before.
~Driving down long, deserted stretches of road. Only dirt roads, though.
~Going for walks. As in, actually walking to and from places. I'll walk on trails and tracks for exercise if I have to, but it's not the same as walking/exploring.
~Talking. About things. Sharing thoughts and ideas. Comparing what I think about the world around me (or things unseen, like Heaven, Hell, ghosts, etc.) with what other people think of it. Fangbunny and my friend B. in Huntsville are pretty much the only people who ever indulge me in this. It's too bad because there are a lot of people in the world who make me curious about what they think and believe.
~Writing. That's partly why I'm doing this blog thing.
~Being cuddled or petted. But ONLY by a select few. Otherwise, I eschew human contact because it makes me uncomfortable.
~Lipstick. Nobody can have enough.
~Flip-flops. Same reason.
~Surprises. I love being surprised. Almost any kind of surprise will do. I really am a three-year-old, I swear.
~Crackers. In any shape, form, or fashion. Well, except saltines. I love Ritz crackers, Club crackers, snack crackers (Wheat Thins, Sociables, etc.), filled crackers (the ones with peanut butter or cheese or cream cheese in the middle), and even Triscuits, though they don't quite count as crackers. I can make a meal of crackers, particularly if I have something to put on them: cheese (Colby or sharp Cheddar only, please), peanut butter, cream cheese, ham, turkey, deviled Spam, whatever. <3 crackers
Ok, I'm not going to keep on. This is just something I did for myself for when I think the whole world sucks, and I hate everyone in it. Maybe I can come back and look at this and remember it's not all bad.
But for now, I think the French toast is done.
Meds: 1:30 pm
Sleep: 9 hours
Other: Overall, things seem to be ok. I'm working, and it seems to be picking up. My boss gave Fangbunny and I our new girls today. I've got money coming. It's not going to be enough to pay all the bills, but it's coming nonetheless. If I didn't have a massive credit card bill AND rent all due at the first of the month, my life would be so much easier. Otherwise, things are pretty quiet. Still nothing from him, and, honestly, I'm wondering if I should give up hope there. I don't want to, but...yeah. That's another blog, I suppose.
Fangbunny's in the kitchen making French toast and eggs, and after we eat, I guess we'll work all night. We may have taken off early last night to play SingStar Pop on her PS2. Yes, the PS2 is ancient, but the games used are dirt-cheap, and, yes, I'm a horrible singer, and she's really good, but whatever. It amused us. In my defense, I'm NOT tone-deaf. I can hear every fuck-up I make. I just don't know how to fix the fuck-up, and I'm also hopeless at staying on beat because my sense of rhythm sucks. Also why I can't dance.
Anyway, for reasons completely unbeknownst to me, Blogger randomly eats my paragraph breaks. So if anyone tried to read that entry yesterday with all the paragraphs squished together before I realized it was messed up, I apologize profusely. It's fixed now, and I'm going to make sure that this one doesn't do the same thing when I post it.
Today's blog is going to be about things that make me happy. I said I was going to do this, and I intend to do it. Plus, I've been wanting to do it for awhile. It's a welcome change from my various pathologies, at least in my opinion. So without further ado, here's the list. Some are unchanging, and some are things that just please me now and may annoy me later. We shall see
~Josh Turner songs. His voice is divine. If the man sang slow jams, it'd be total baby-making music. Also, almost every song of his that he releases as a single is so cute and upbeat.
~The Jane Eyre movie that's coming out on March 11th. I will be there on the release date if I have to go by myself. Fangbunny makes fun of me for my love of Jane Eyre (the book), but I think it's fantastic. I read it again last week for the millionth time, and I cried again at the end, like I always do. If the movie sucks, I'm going to be sad. Here's the trailer if you want to check it out: Jane Eyre (2011). Rochester--as in the character in the book--is pretty much my perfect man in every way. Oh, Byronic heroes, I do so love you, even in real life...and it tends to be my downfall.
~Going places that aren't fast food restaurants or the grocery store. This doesn't happen very much anymore because I'm poor, so that's probably another reason why I'm so excited about the Jane Eyre movie. I get to get out of the house!
~Holidays. Well, most of them, anyway. My favorite holiday is coming up. Yes, Easter, don't judge me. Halloween is my second-favorite. Then, I suppose it's Valentine's Day and Christmas tied for third. I like the 4th of July, too, for fireworks and booze, LOL. I always wish I could do something phenomenal for holidays.
~Stuffed animals. My inner three-year-old rejoices at all things stuffie. Ditto for board games, model horses, Hello Kitty, and Disney Princess shit. I am a sucker for all things cute, and the toy stores are some of my favorite places.
~Music. I have my likes and dislikes as far as music goes, of course, but in general, I like music. It can make me happy, sad, angry, or most any other emotion just by being what it is. Not too many things can do that, so it makes me happy.
~Almost all things sweet and cheesy. Fangbunny got a Valentine's gift in the mail from her friend in Massachusetts, and I almost cried, even though it had nothing to do with me.
~Books. Nothing more to say there.
~The beach. Only, unlike most people, I like it better at night.
~Traveling. It doesn't really matter where. I just like going places I've never been before.
~Driving down long, deserted stretches of road. Only dirt roads, though.
~Going for walks. As in, actually walking to and from places. I'll walk on trails and tracks for exercise if I have to, but it's not the same as walking/exploring.
~Talking. About things. Sharing thoughts and ideas. Comparing what I think about the world around me (or things unseen, like Heaven, Hell, ghosts, etc.) with what other people think of it. Fangbunny and my friend B. in Huntsville are pretty much the only people who ever indulge me in this. It's too bad because there are a lot of people in the world who make me curious about what they think and believe.
~Writing. That's partly why I'm doing this blog thing.
~Being cuddled or petted. But ONLY by a select few. Otherwise, I eschew human contact because it makes me uncomfortable.
~Lipstick. Nobody can have enough.
~Flip-flops. Same reason.
~Surprises. I love being surprised. Almost any kind of surprise will do. I really am a three-year-old, I swear.
~Crackers. In any shape, form, or fashion. Well, except saltines. I love Ritz crackers, Club crackers, snack crackers (Wheat Thins, Sociables, etc.), filled crackers (the ones with peanut butter or cheese or cream cheese in the middle), and even Triscuits, though they don't quite count as crackers. I can make a meal of crackers, particularly if I have something to put on them: cheese (Colby or sharp Cheddar only, please), peanut butter, cream cheese, ham, turkey, deviled Spam, whatever. <3 crackers
Ok, I'm not going to keep on. This is just something I did for myself for when I think the whole world sucks, and I hate everyone in it. Maybe I can come back and look at this and remember it's not all bad.
But for now, I think the French toast is done.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
I Hope Every Armchair Psychotherapist Out There Dies In A Fire
Mood: 3
Meds: 12:30 pm
Sleep: 9 or so hours, I think. Not entirely sure what time I fell asleep last night, but it was kinda early, at least for me.
Other: Fangbunny's got her music blog up and running now. Yay! I'm going to help her by making faux Twitter accounts and retweeting her for the rest of the afternoon while working. Work seems to be picking up a little, which is good. Thank God for people and their income tax refunds. Still nothing from The Mute One. Starving and craving fries, which is unusual for me, given my indifference to all things potato (except for Baked Lays <3). I think when Fangbunny gets out of the shower, we're going to do something we shouldn't do and go get something salty, greasy, and utterly satisfying.
Ok, today's blog is a rant. This isn't strictly something that concerns me, but it is something that concerns the mental health community as a whole and all the crazies in the world. "Crazies of the world" definitely includes me, so up it goes.
On one of the message boards I post on (not a mental health board or anything), a girl posted a thread, asking for some advice. In the past, she's struggled with depression, and if her descriptions of what she went through are any indication, she had/has a pretty severe case. Her antidepressant is helping her with her depression--she's not depressed anymore. But she's having a side effect that she doesn't like: inability to orgasm. She's on an SSRI, and inorgasmia is a common side effect.
Now, keep in mind, SHE SAYS HER MEDS ARE WORKING. This is important, so remember it for later.
I slipped in and said that I was glad her meds are working, but if the sexual side effects are more than she wants to deal with, she might want to go back to her doctor and see if she can get a new prescription. I pointed out that SSRIs are notorious for sexual side effects (as are pretty much anything that does more than lightly brush serotonin receptors), but that there are quite a few other options out there. I listed my <3<3<3<3 Wellbutrin <3<3<3<3 as an option, as it doesn't hit serotonin at all, but told her that there were plenty of other things her doctor might prescribe for her to try. Sensible advice, yes? If you can't live with the side effects, see if you can find something else.
OMFG, I might as well have said that the poor girl needs to become a serial rapist. I don't think I've ever seen as many "you don't need medication, fuck Big Pharma, blah, blah, fucking blah" rants from so many dumbfucks in one place in my entire life. *Facepalm*
Motherfucker, if somebody's medication is working, then it stands to reason that that person NEEDS THAT FUCKING MEDICATION. Therapy, your questionable "homeopathic" remedies (research shows that most of the time they hurt more than they help, but we conveniently forget that), diet, exercise, and any damn thing else that pop psychology tells you to try is NOT a goddamn substitute for medication. And how DARE you presume to think you know more than a.) the doctors, b.) other people with education in the psych field, and c.) the goddamn crazy person herself simply because you've watched Dr. Phil a few times? If those medications improve quality of life (at the least) or are the only thing standing between that person and suicide (at the worst), then why the fuck would you tell that person to stop taking them? Go fuck yourself.
Now, this post isn't actually about this girl's plight, as sucky as it is for her. It's just my jumping-off point for a rant about something that has pissed me off for years. I spent four years in a heavily behavioral psych department, getting my degree. NOT clinical psych. NOT cognitive psych. NOT psychoanalysis (though I doubt there are any psychoanalytic departments anymore). NOT social psych. BEHAVIORISM. And if there are any armchair psychologists out there, those things are NOT the same.
Now, the behaviorists oughta be the first ones to tell you that therapy, or, more accurately, "behavior modification," as behaviorists call it, should work. But they don't. They tell you that in an ideal world, behavior mod works. Unfortunately, most people have more going on with their mental illness than just maladaptive behavior. So while behavior mod will help you change your behavior, it's NOT going to correct any underlying biological problems. And that's why behaviorists say that if someone has a GENUINE mental illness, they need to be stabilized before therapy begins, or it's not going to do anything. And if it takes medication to stabilize that person, then so fucking be it.
You see, behavior mod--therapy of any kind, actually--helps you learn to deal with what's going on in your life. It's most helpful for people who *don't* have mental illness, believe it or not. (Or for people with personality disorders, but that's neither here nor there. We're talking Axis I here, folks.) Assuming you've got a competent therapist, it will help people cope with "stress." It will teach you better interpersonal skills. It will teach you to resolve problems, both internal and external. It will help you improve your self-esteem or whatever other issues you may have that contribute to your underlying illness--if you have any. Not everyone does.
What it will NOT do is help you treat your mental illness if it's rooted in something other than "Mommy was mean to me, and Daddy was never there." That is not a genuine mental illness, people. That is what we call an asshole who makes excuses for being an asshole.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying therapy is bad. It helps millions of people. Many people with Axis I disorders need therapy to help them deal with life stressors that may be making their illness worse. They may need to learn better self-esteem. They may need to learn to deal with people better. They may need better problem-solving skills. On the other hand, THEY MAY NOT.
Assuming that "therapy" is the be-all and end-all answer to mental illness is both simplistic and insulting to the crazy person. It might be the answer for Dr. Phil, but it's NOT necessarily the answer for the crazies. Until you walk in that person's shoes, you don't know shit, even if therapy "worked for you."
Moderate to severe mental illness will NOT respond to therapy alone (or to therapy in conjunction with other shit that's not medication). Mental illness that is that bad NEEDS medication. Period, the end. If someone spends the rest of his/her life on medication to improve his/her quality of life, then what the fuck is it to you? Would you tell a diabetic that with a combination of behavior modification and St. John's Wort, he, too, can no longer have to take insulin anymore? Ok, then, shut the fuck up telling the crazies that. You DON'T KNOW what you're talking about, and you DON'T KNOW what that person goes through every day.
Also, to take the therapy analogy a little farther, if you tell a mentally ill person that they just need to change the way they think and/or behave through the use of therapy, you are, in essence repeating every shitty thing that person's ever been told in reference to his/her illness, only with the added twist of "going to talk to someone."
Ultimately, saying "therapy will fix all your problems, so throw out your meds" is pretty much telling the crazy person that it's her maladaptive behavior that's causing the problem. It's the same old rehashed "you are your own worst enemy" bullshit we've all heard before. Maybe we've tried to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. Maybe we've tried to change our behavior. I would imagine most of us have spent YEARS doing these things, but we just can't do it. Telling us that if we change, you are putting the blame for our conditions on OUR shoulders, thereby making us feel even worse about ourselves, thereby worsening our conditions. We're sick; we're not assholes, and fuck you if you think so.
I've had to deal with those attitudes my whole life. Yes, I've only been formally diagnosed for a couple of months, but a.) I've been crazy for much longer, and b.) I have a degree in psychology. In the hierarchy of social acceptability model of Axis I mental illness, the ONLY well-known disorder that has more stigma attached to it than bipolar is schizophrenia. Depression is at the bottom of the pyramid. Everybody thinks now that because they were sad once, they've been depressed, so it's more socially acceptable, even though the prevalence of actual clinical depression isn't really *that* high. Anxiety is on the next level. It's still got a little more stigma attached than depression. ("Can't you just chill out?") But it's still fairly low on the list. Then, you've got bipolar and schizophrenia. How many times have you heard people talk about staying away from bipolars and schizophrenics because we're full of drama or dangerous, even though we're ten times more likely to be victims of violent assaults than to be the assaulters?
I have heard pretty much every version of "you're not sick, you're just an asshole" that you can imagine. I've spent 27 years trying to change myself and the way I act because I was CONVINCED that the problem was ME, not a mental illness. That perception is enhanced by family, friends, people I've been in relationships with, and society at large. If people can't fathom the mood swings, the irrational and self-destructive behavior, the inability to retain control, then it's easier to BLAME the crazy person than it is to realize that the crazy person can't help it.
If someone, anyone, had shut the fuck up with the "you need to stop acting like a bitch" spiel for 2.5 seconds and actually listened to anything I had to say about the way I was feeling, then maybe I wouldn't have waited so long for treatment. Maybe it would've been caught 10 years ago. Maybe my illness wouldn't have done irreparable damage to my brain while I tried over and over and over to "stop acting like an asshole." (And, yes, I can tell I don't have the cognitive faculties I did 10 years ago. The illness is the only answer because I'm not old enough for it to be an age-related decline.) Maybe I wouldn't have felt worse about myself because of my inability to control it, thus spinning myself into even more rapid cycling, thus destroying more brain cells through self-hatred brought on by OTHER PEOPLE'S STUPIDITY. Yes, I am somewhat to blame for not recognizing the signs, especially given my education, but society as a whole is also to blame for the way the mentally ill are treated.
I'm going to bring my rant to a close by saying, yes, therapy does help. Crazy people also have a responsibility to themselves and others to get treatment in whatever form necessary. But if you are a crazy, you know more about what you need than the non-crazies around you. And if you're close to a crazy, then just shut the hell up if you can't say or do something helpful.
And if you're one of those people who spouts pop psychology as if it's something profound, please go douse yourself in kerosene and strike a match. If you commit suicide rather than potentially driving a crazy to suicide, then you've done the world a favor. Crazy people have enough to contend with without your bullshit.
Meds: 12:30 pm
Sleep: 9 or so hours, I think. Not entirely sure what time I fell asleep last night, but it was kinda early, at least for me.
Other: Fangbunny's got her music blog up and running now. Yay! I'm going to help her by making faux Twitter accounts and retweeting her for the rest of the afternoon while working. Work seems to be picking up a little, which is good. Thank God for people and their income tax refunds. Still nothing from The Mute One. Starving and craving fries, which is unusual for me, given my indifference to all things potato (except for Baked Lays <3). I think when Fangbunny gets out of the shower, we're going to do something we shouldn't do and go get something salty, greasy, and utterly satisfying.
Ok, today's blog is a rant. This isn't strictly something that concerns me, but it is something that concerns the mental health community as a whole and all the crazies in the world. "Crazies of the world" definitely includes me, so up it goes.
On one of the message boards I post on (not a mental health board or anything), a girl posted a thread, asking for some advice. In the past, she's struggled with depression, and if her descriptions of what she went through are any indication, she had/has a pretty severe case. Her antidepressant is helping her with her depression--she's not depressed anymore. But she's having a side effect that she doesn't like: inability to orgasm. She's on an SSRI, and inorgasmia is a common side effect.
Now, keep in mind, SHE SAYS HER MEDS ARE WORKING. This is important, so remember it for later.
I slipped in and said that I was glad her meds are working, but if the sexual side effects are more than she wants to deal with, she might want to go back to her doctor and see if she can get a new prescription. I pointed out that SSRIs are notorious for sexual side effects (as are pretty much anything that does more than lightly brush serotonin receptors), but that there are quite a few other options out there. I listed my <3<3<3<3 Wellbutrin <3<3<3<3 as an option, as it doesn't hit serotonin at all, but told her that there were plenty of other things her doctor might prescribe for her to try. Sensible advice, yes? If you can't live with the side effects, see if you can find something else.
OMFG, I might as well have said that the poor girl needs to become a serial rapist. I don't think I've ever seen as many "you don't need medication, fuck Big Pharma, blah, blah, fucking blah" rants from so many dumbfucks in one place in my entire life. *Facepalm*
Motherfucker, if somebody's medication is working, then it stands to reason that that person NEEDS THAT FUCKING MEDICATION. Therapy, your questionable "homeopathic" remedies (research shows that most of the time they hurt more than they help, but we conveniently forget that), diet, exercise, and any damn thing else that pop psychology tells you to try is NOT a goddamn substitute for medication. And how DARE you presume to think you know more than a.) the doctors, b.) other people with education in the psych field, and c.) the goddamn crazy person herself simply because you've watched Dr. Phil a few times? If those medications improve quality of life (at the least) or are the only thing standing between that person and suicide (at the worst), then why the fuck would you tell that person to stop taking them? Go fuck yourself.
Now, this post isn't actually about this girl's plight, as sucky as it is for her. It's just my jumping-off point for a rant about something that has pissed me off for years. I spent four years in a heavily behavioral psych department, getting my degree. NOT clinical psych. NOT cognitive psych. NOT psychoanalysis (though I doubt there are any psychoanalytic departments anymore). NOT social psych. BEHAVIORISM. And if there are any armchair psychologists out there, those things are NOT the same.
Now, the behaviorists oughta be the first ones to tell you that therapy, or, more accurately, "behavior modification," as behaviorists call it, should work. But they don't. They tell you that in an ideal world, behavior mod works. Unfortunately, most people have more going on with their mental illness than just maladaptive behavior. So while behavior mod will help you change your behavior, it's NOT going to correct any underlying biological problems. And that's why behaviorists say that if someone has a GENUINE mental illness, they need to be stabilized before therapy begins, or it's not going to do anything. And if it takes medication to stabilize that person, then so fucking be it.
You see, behavior mod--therapy of any kind, actually--helps you learn to deal with what's going on in your life. It's most helpful for people who *don't* have mental illness, believe it or not. (Or for people with personality disorders, but that's neither here nor there. We're talking Axis I here, folks.) Assuming you've got a competent therapist, it will help people cope with "stress." It will teach you better interpersonal skills. It will teach you to resolve problems, both internal and external. It will help you improve your self-esteem or whatever other issues you may have that contribute to your underlying illness--if you have any. Not everyone does.
What it will NOT do is help you treat your mental illness if it's rooted in something other than "Mommy was mean to me, and Daddy was never there." That is not a genuine mental illness, people. That is what we call an asshole who makes excuses for being an asshole.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying therapy is bad. It helps millions of people. Many people with Axis I disorders need therapy to help them deal with life stressors that may be making their illness worse. They may need to learn better self-esteem. They may need to learn to deal with people better. They may need better problem-solving skills. On the other hand, THEY MAY NOT.
Assuming that "therapy" is the be-all and end-all answer to mental illness is both simplistic and insulting to the crazy person. It might be the answer for Dr. Phil, but it's NOT necessarily the answer for the crazies. Until you walk in that person's shoes, you don't know shit, even if therapy "worked for you."
Moderate to severe mental illness will NOT respond to therapy alone (or to therapy in conjunction with other shit that's not medication). Mental illness that is that bad NEEDS medication. Period, the end. If someone spends the rest of his/her life on medication to improve his/her quality of life, then what the fuck is it to you? Would you tell a diabetic that with a combination of behavior modification and St. John's Wort, he, too, can no longer have to take insulin anymore? Ok, then, shut the fuck up telling the crazies that. You DON'T KNOW what you're talking about, and you DON'T KNOW what that person goes through every day.
Also, to take the therapy analogy a little farther, if you tell a mentally ill person that they just need to change the way they think and/or behave through the use of therapy, you are, in essence repeating every shitty thing that person's ever been told in reference to his/her illness, only with the added twist of "going to talk to someone."
Ultimately, saying "therapy will fix all your problems, so throw out your meds" is pretty much telling the crazy person that it's her maladaptive behavior that's causing the problem. It's the same old rehashed "you are your own worst enemy" bullshit we've all heard before. Maybe we've tried to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. Maybe we've tried to change our behavior. I would imagine most of us have spent YEARS doing these things, but we just can't do it. Telling us that if we change, you are putting the blame for our conditions on OUR shoulders, thereby making us feel even worse about ourselves, thereby worsening our conditions. We're sick; we're not assholes, and fuck you if you think so.
I've had to deal with those attitudes my whole life. Yes, I've only been formally diagnosed for a couple of months, but a.) I've been crazy for much longer, and b.) I have a degree in psychology. In the hierarchy of social acceptability model of Axis I mental illness, the ONLY well-known disorder that has more stigma attached to it than bipolar is schizophrenia. Depression is at the bottom of the pyramid. Everybody thinks now that because they were sad once, they've been depressed, so it's more socially acceptable, even though the prevalence of actual clinical depression isn't really *that* high. Anxiety is on the next level. It's still got a little more stigma attached than depression. ("Can't you just chill out?") But it's still fairly low on the list. Then, you've got bipolar and schizophrenia. How many times have you heard people talk about staying away from bipolars and schizophrenics because we're full of drama or dangerous, even though we're ten times more likely to be victims of violent assaults than to be the assaulters?
I have heard pretty much every version of "you're not sick, you're just an asshole" that you can imagine. I've spent 27 years trying to change myself and the way I act because I was CONVINCED that the problem was ME, not a mental illness. That perception is enhanced by family, friends, people I've been in relationships with, and society at large. If people can't fathom the mood swings, the irrational and self-destructive behavior, the inability to retain control, then it's easier to BLAME the crazy person than it is to realize that the crazy person can't help it.
If someone, anyone, had shut the fuck up with the "you need to stop acting like a bitch" spiel for 2.5 seconds and actually listened to anything I had to say about the way I was feeling, then maybe I wouldn't have waited so long for treatment. Maybe it would've been caught 10 years ago. Maybe my illness wouldn't have done irreparable damage to my brain while I tried over and over and over to "stop acting like an asshole." (And, yes, I can tell I don't have the cognitive faculties I did 10 years ago. The illness is the only answer because I'm not old enough for it to be an age-related decline.) Maybe I wouldn't have felt worse about myself because of my inability to control it, thus spinning myself into even more rapid cycling, thus destroying more brain cells through self-hatred brought on by OTHER PEOPLE'S STUPIDITY. Yes, I am somewhat to blame for not recognizing the signs, especially given my education, but society as a whole is also to blame for the way the mentally ill are treated.
I'm going to bring my rant to a close by saying, yes, therapy does help. Crazy people also have a responsibility to themselves and others to get treatment in whatever form necessary. But if you are a crazy, you know more about what you need than the non-crazies around you. And if you're close to a crazy, then just shut the hell up if you can't say or do something helpful.
And if you're one of those people who spouts pop psychology as if it's something profound, please go douse yourself in kerosene and strike a match. If you commit suicide rather than potentially driving a crazy to suicide, then you've done the world a favor. Crazy people have enough to contend with without your bullshit.
Exercise 2
Ok, I finally got finished with all the work stuff I was going to do today. I've been super-busy between the phone and the web work, so I'm taking a well-deserved couple of hours off before I drag my ass to bed.
There actually hasn't been a whole lot going on of late. Which is highly unusual in my life. Which makes me think this is probably the calm before the storm. Ever get that feeling? I do. I don't anyone who knows me can even call it paranoia, given the way drama follows me around like a jewelry peddler on a Mexican beach. (Ever been to Cancun? Those are some persistent bastards.)
But for now, all's quiet on the Western front. My family's leaving me alone. No real friend drama. I rarely talk to Kitty about anything worthwhile anymore, so I guess you could say there's not any drama there, either. And, of course, still nothing from Mr. Strong-And-Silent. I've managed not to give into either my urge to drink or my urge to go have random sex. (The latter is far more pressing than the former. It is at least somewhat tempered by the fact that Lamictal makes getting off incredibly weird. I can still do it, but it's a lot harder, and it's sometimes so disappointing that it wasn't worth the effort.) I'm pretty happy just holed up here, trying not to accidentally light myself on fire because Lamictal has made me Dumber. Than. A. Post.
Now that I say that, the shit will hit the fan tomorrow morning. *Eyeroll*
But since I don't have anything to really get off my chest right now, I think I'll do another exercise from my DBT workbook. I haven't posted one lately because the first skill it teaches is mindfulness. It's not that mindfulness isn't an important skill; it's that it's kind of hard to do written exercises about it.
I have, however, been doing some of the mindfulness thought exercises. To tell the truth, at first, I kind of thought it was really stupid and wouldn't work. But I promised myself that I was going to give this whole thing a go, so I did it. I was surprised to find out that it really does help keep me grounded and in the present moment enough that I don't seem to catastrophize things the way I used to.
The next section, while still part of the overarching "mindfulness" chapters, is a little easier to do in written form. It's about choosing to act vs. merely reacting. I...*might* have a problem with this. Apparently, one is supposed to use one's "wise mind" when choosing to act, rather than relying on one's "emotion mind" or one's "reasoning mind."
Emotion mind is just what it sounds like: thinking with your feelings instead of your brain. Reasoning mind is the more detached and clinical aspect of thought. Wise mind is a combination of the two, neither too emotional nor too detached. I'm struggling with this a lot more than I struggled with the general mindfulness stuff, but I think I'm doing ok.
The rest of this post is going to be kind of scrambled, but I'm going to try to answer some of the questions the author poses of her readers.
~Can you think of examples of when you've acted in a way that may have been satisfying in the short term, but in the long run may have been harmful, or at the very least not beneficial to you? When haven't I acted in a self-destructive way? I can come up with a whole bunch of examples that extend over a whole bunch of different situations and circumstances, but I don't want to enumerate them all here. I live with the memories of them every day, and that oughta be enough for anybody.
The next part is a set of mindfulness practice questions that you can use if you're in a situation where you don't know what to do or when your emotion mind or reasoning mind threaten to take control. I'm going to paste the questions here, so I have them for easy access when needed, but I'm not going to fill them out right now, as I don't have a pressing situation at the moment.
1.) Describe the situation.
2.) What are the emotions you are experiencing about this situation?
3.) What is your urge in this situation? (What is your emotion mind telling you to do?)
4.) What is your long-term goal in this situation?
5.) What would be a helpful action for you to take in this situation? (In other words, what can you do that would make it most likely for you to meet your long-term goal?)
I do plan to use these questions to help me assess what's going on in my life as situations arise, so count on seeing them at least semi-regularly. I just don't have anything that I'm dying to act on now, so filling it out right now is unnecessary.
The next section is on reducing reactivity through healthy lifestyle choices. I'm going to touch briefly on these.
Sleep Assessment
1.) Are you currently making sure you get enough sleep, but not too much? I've got the not too much part covered. I've been struggling with sleeping enough lately, though. I'm doing my best to try to get this straightened out, but I have to admit, my sleep pattern could be better. I don't want to have to use sleep meds too often, but I'll use them if need be.
2.) What could you do to be more effective in this? Go the hell to bed when I get sleepy. I'm bad about saying "I'm going to finish what I'm working on, then go to bed," or "I need to work until such-and-such time, then I'll go to bed." My problem is I'll be really sleepy for awhile and then will catch my second wind and not be able to go to sleep 'til daylight. Then, it's usually not a very good (or very long) sleep because of the light coming in the window.
3.) What is one small goal you can set for yourself to start working toward being more effective in this area? Try to get my work done earlier in the day, so that I don't feel like I'm neglecting it if I get sleepy sooner than I expected.
Substance Use
1.) How are you currently managing your use of drugs and/or alcohol? By not drinking. If I choose not to drink, there's nothing to manage.
2.) What could you do to be more effective in this? I don't think there's a whole lot more I can do besides not drink, LOL. I'm not dependent on alcohol, and it's generally not a struggle for me to avoid it.
3.) What is one small goal you can set for yourself to start working toward being more effective in this area? Continue to not drink? At least until I'm sure I'm only drinking for healthy reasons instead of unhealthy ones.
Mental And Physical Health Assessment
1.) How are you currently taking care of yourself physically and mentally? Not eating out as much (though this is as much a function of being poor as being healthy). Not drinking. Not giving in to the urge to engage in sexual escapades that are going to make me feel worse about myself. Exercising, at least a little. Taking meds (always). Not engaging when people try to bait me. Writing this blog and doing these DBT exercises. Trying to fix the sleep problems. I'm sure there are more, but that's plenty, I think.
2.) What could you do to be more effective in this? I could exercise more still. I'm a lot lazier about it than I ought to be. I should probably do more about fixing my sleeping, too.
3.) What is one small goal you can set for yourself to start working toward being more effective in this area? Do some form of physical activity every day, however small it may be. Walking, dancing with Fangbunny, doing more boring things if need be. I imagine this will help with both the sleeping issues and the asthma, too.
The next part is on mastery. It's about assessing what you're good at, which, in turn, makes you feel good about yourself. I'm a flaming narcissist, so I shouldn't have any trouble with this at all.
Activity Mastery Assessment
1.) What are you currently doing that gives you a sense of mastery? Making CSS my bitch! Ok, seriously, it's mostly work stuff, but I love watching my sites rise in the search engines nearly every day. I love fucking around with Wordpress templates until I've customized them and made them my very own. I love breathing life into blog posts. I love writing in general, particularly for money. Yes, I realize this is all work-related stuff right now, but it asks what I'm currently doing, and that's what I've been focusing on the past several days.
2.) What could you do to be more effective in this? I want to learn to build my own sites and Wordpress layouts and so forth from scratch. I think it'd help me tremendously. There are others, but I have so many that it'll be hard to set a small goal in the next question if I list them all, LOL.
3.) What is one small goal you can set for yourself to start working toward being more effective in this area? Read tutorials online and actually try the things they say, rather than going, "This makes no sense, screw it."
The next part is on making judgments. I'm not currently judging anything at the moment because I don't have any heated arguments or whatever going on, so I can't really do the things it suggests doing. But the whole point is to not make judgments. I'll list the questions it asks, but, as was the case earlier, I don't actually need this part right now, so I'm leaving it blank.
Reducing Judgments
~Describe the situation. (Facts only.)
~Describe the judgment you've made.
~Describe the emotions you're feeling.
~Reframe judgment with your "wise mind" to assess the situation in a non-judgmental way.
Ok, that's all for today, as that's the end of the (incredibly long-ass) chapter. The next installment is about surviving a crisis without making it worse, and God knows, that's something I need to work on. So expect that to come within the next few days.
Now, because I'm starting to get sleepy, I'm going to go to bed. See? Look at me doing what I'm supposed to do!
There actually hasn't been a whole lot going on of late. Which is highly unusual in my life. Which makes me think this is probably the calm before the storm. Ever get that feeling? I do. I don't anyone who knows me can even call it paranoia, given the way drama follows me around like a jewelry peddler on a Mexican beach. (Ever been to Cancun? Those are some persistent bastards.)
But for now, all's quiet on the Western front. My family's leaving me alone. No real friend drama. I rarely talk to Kitty about anything worthwhile anymore, so I guess you could say there's not any drama there, either. And, of course, still nothing from Mr. Strong-And-Silent. I've managed not to give into either my urge to drink or my urge to go have random sex. (The latter is far more pressing than the former. It is at least somewhat tempered by the fact that Lamictal makes getting off incredibly weird. I can still do it, but it's a lot harder, and it's sometimes so disappointing that it wasn't worth the effort.) I'm pretty happy just holed up here, trying not to accidentally light myself on fire because Lamictal has made me Dumber. Than. A. Post.
Now that I say that, the shit will hit the fan tomorrow morning. *Eyeroll*
But since I don't have anything to really get off my chest right now, I think I'll do another exercise from my DBT workbook. I haven't posted one lately because the first skill it teaches is mindfulness. It's not that mindfulness isn't an important skill; it's that it's kind of hard to do written exercises about it.
I have, however, been doing some of the mindfulness thought exercises. To tell the truth, at first, I kind of thought it was really stupid and wouldn't work. But I promised myself that I was going to give this whole thing a go, so I did it. I was surprised to find out that it really does help keep me grounded and in the present moment enough that I don't seem to catastrophize things the way I used to.
The next section, while still part of the overarching "mindfulness" chapters, is a little easier to do in written form. It's about choosing to act vs. merely reacting. I...*might* have a problem with this. Apparently, one is supposed to use one's "wise mind" when choosing to act, rather than relying on one's "emotion mind" or one's "reasoning mind."
Emotion mind is just what it sounds like: thinking with your feelings instead of your brain. Reasoning mind is the more detached and clinical aspect of thought. Wise mind is a combination of the two, neither too emotional nor too detached. I'm struggling with this a lot more than I struggled with the general mindfulness stuff, but I think I'm doing ok.
The rest of this post is going to be kind of scrambled, but I'm going to try to answer some of the questions the author poses of her readers.
~Can you think of examples of when you've acted in a way that may have been satisfying in the short term, but in the long run may have been harmful, or at the very least not beneficial to you? When haven't I acted in a self-destructive way? I can come up with a whole bunch of examples that extend over a whole bunch of different situations and circumstances, but I don't want to enumerate them all here. I live with the memories of them every day, and that oughta be enough for anybody.
The next part is a set of mindfulness practice questions that you can use if you're in a situation where you don't know what to do or when your emotion mind or reasoning mind threaten to take control. I'm going to paste the questions here, so I have them for easy access when needed, but I'm not going to fill them out right now, as I don't have a pressing situation at the moment.
1.) Describe the situation.
2.) What are the emotions you are experiencing about this situation?
3.) What is your urge in this situation? (What is your emotion mind telling you to do?)
4.) What is your long-term goal in this situation?
5.) What would be a helpful action for you to take in this situation? (In other words, what can you do that would make it most likely for you to meet your long-term goal?)
I do plan to use these questions to help me assess what's going on in my life as situations arise, so count on seeing them at least semi-regularly. I just don't have anything that I'm dying to act on now, so filling it out right now is unnecessary.
The next section is on reducing reactivity through healthy lifestyle choices. I'm going to touch briefly on these.
Sleep Assessment
1.) Are you currently making sure you get enough sleep, but not too much? I've got the not too much part covered. I've been struggling with sleeping enough lately, though. I'm doing my best to try to get this straightened out, but I have to admit, my sleep pattern could be better. I don't want to have to use sleep meds too often, but I'll use them if need be.
2.) What could you do to be more effective in this? Go the hell to bed when I get sleepy. I'm bad about saying "I'm going to finish what I'm working on, then go to bed," or "I need to work until such-and-such time, then I'll go to bed." My problem is I'll be really sleepy for awhile and then will catch my second wind and not be able to go to sleep 'til daylight. Then, it's usually not a very good (or very long) sleep because of the light coming in the window.
3.) What is one small goal you can set for yourself to start working toward being more effective in this area? Try to get my work done earlier in the day, so that I don't feel like I'm neglecting it if I get sleepy sooner than I expected.
Substance Use
1.) How are you currently managing your use of drugs and/or alcohol? By not drinking. If I choose not to drink, there's nothing to manage.
2.) What could you do to be more effective in this? I don't think there's a whole lot more I can do besides not drink, LOL. I'm not dependent on alcohol, and it's generally not a struggle for me to avoid it.
3.) What is one small goal you can set for yourself to start working toward being more effective in this area? Continue to not drink? At least until I'm sure I'm only drinking for healthy reasons instead of unhealthy ones.
Mental And Physical Health Assessment
1.) How are you currently taking care of yourself physically and mentally? Not eating out as much (though this is as much a function of being poor as being healthy). Not drinking. Not giving in to the urge to engage in sexual escapades that are going to make me feel worse about myself. Exercising, at least a little. Taking meds (always). Not engaging when people try to bait me. Writing this blog and doing these DBT exercises. Trying to fix the sleep problems. I'm sure there are more, but that's plenty, I think.
2.) What could you do to be more effective in this? I could exercise more still. I'm a lot lazier about it than I ought to be. I should probably do more about fixing my sleeping, too.
3.) What is one small goal you can set for yourself to start working toward being more effective in this area? Do some form of physical activity every day, however small it may be. Walking, dancing with Fangbunny, doing more boring things if need be. I imagine this will help with both the sleeping issues and the asthma, too.
The next part is on mastery. It's about assessing what you're good at, which, in turn, makes you feel good about yourself. I'm a flaming narcissist, so I shouldn't have any trouble with this at all.
Activity Mastery Assessment
1.) What are you currently doing that gives you a sense of mastery? Making CSS my bitch! Ok, seriously, it's mostly work stuff, but I love watching my sites rise in the search engines nearly every day. I love fucking around with Wordpress templates until I've customized them and made them my very own. I love breathing life into blog posts. I love writing in general, particularly for money. Yes, I realize this is all work-related stuff right now, but it asks what I'm currently doing, and that's what I've been focusing on the past several days.
2.) What could you do to be more effective in this? I want to learn to build my own sites and Wordpress layouts and so forth from scratch. I think it'd help me tremendously. There are others, but I have so many that it'll be hard to set a small goal in the next question if I list them all, LOL.
3.) What is one small goal you can set for yourself to start working toward being more effective in this area? Read tutorials online and actually try the things they say, rather than going, "This makes no sense, screw it."
The next part is on making judgments. I'm not currently judging anything at the moment because I don't have any heated arguments or whatever going on, so I can't really do the things it suggests doing. But the whole point is to not make judgments. I'll list the questions it asks, but, as was the case earlier, I don't actually need this part right now, so I'm leaving it blank.
Reducing Judgments
~Describe the situation. (Facts only.)
~Describe the judgment you've made.
~Describe the emotions you're feeling.
~Reframe judgment with your "wise mind" to assess the situation in a non-judgmental way.
Ok, that's all for today, as that's the end of the (incredibly long-ass) chapter. The next installment is about surviving a crisis without making it worse, and God knows, that's something I need to work on. So expect that to come within the next few days.
Now, because I'm starting to get sleepy, I'm going to go to bed. See? Look at me doing what I'm supposed to do!
Monday, February 21, 2011
Another Quickie--I'm Getting Good At This
Mood: 4
Meds: Around 1 pm
Sleep: 5 hours--this is pissing me off
Other: Immersed in web work again today. Last night's project ended up being way more of a pain in the ass than I thought it was going to be. Thus, we get another short blog today because I'm too busy trying to take over the world.
CSS is busy kicking my ass up one side and down the other, so I don't have time to say a lot right now. :( There's a lot on my mind, but work beckons, unfortunately.
I will say that I've been feeling better. The sun and warm weather helps. I'm tired of writing about my various pathologies, so I hope in the next few days, I can write about aspects of me that I like instead of all my maladaptive coping behaviors.
Also, if anyone out there can help Fangbunny and me with CSS, I will owe you my firstborn. Of course, the joke's on you because I most likely can't reproduce (and don't want to, anyway), but it's the thought that counts, right?
Meds: Around 1 pm
Sleep: 5 hours--this is pissing me off
Other: Immersed in web work again today. Last night's project ended up being way more of a pain in the ass than I thought it was going to be. Thus, we get another short blog today because I'm too busy trying to take over the world.
CSS is busy kicking my ass up one side and down the other, so I don't have time to say a lot right now. :( There's a lot on my mind, but work beckons, unfortunately.
I will say that I've been feeling better. The sun and warm weather helps. I'm tired of writing about my various pathologies, so I hope in the next few days, I can write about aspects of me that I like instead of all my maladaptive coping behaviors.
Also, if anyone out there can help Fangbunny and me with CSS, I will owe you my firstborn. Of course, the joke's on you because I most likely can't reproduce (and don't want to, anyway), but it's the thought that counts, right?
A Quickie
Mood: 2
Meds: 2:45ish
Sleep: 9 or so hours
Other: Incredibly busy with work stuff. Haven't had time to do anything but grab food, go buy groceries, clean the toilet, and work. Massive website overhauls, etc. Left my hoodie in the child seat part of the cart in the Walmart parking lot today and didn't realize it until we'd gotten all the way back to the house. Went back to Walmart in hopes that it'd still be there, and it was. That made me happy, since the hoodie was part of my Valentine's gift from my mother, and I'd have felt like shit if I'd lost it. Need to figure out WTF I'm going to do about all these cognitive problems (e.g., leaving hoodie in buggy in parking lot of Walmart) that Lamictal causes. I'm forgetful and absent-minded and spastic on good days WITHOUT meds. It's terrible now. :(
Ok, I have nothing to say in this post. Or, rather, I have a lot to say, but no time to say it. This is actually for 2-20, but I'm just now taking the time to write it at, like, 3:30 am. SO. FREAKING. BUSY.
Basically, I just wrote this to chart my mood. I'm going to finish my work stuff and go to bed. I'll do my best to post something of more substance tomorrow.
Meds: 2:45ish
Sleep: 9 or so hours
Other: Incredibly busy with work stuff. Haven't had time to do anything but grab food, go buy groceries, clean the toilet, and work. Massive website overhauls, etc. Left my hoodie in the child seat part of the cart in the Walmart parking lot today and didn't realize it until we'd gotten all the way back to the house. Went back to Walmart in hopes that it'd still be there, and it was. That made me happy, since the hoodie was part of my Valentine's gift from my mother, and I'd have felt like shit if I'd lost it. Need to figure out WTF I'm going to do about all these cognitive problems (e.g., leaving hoodie in buggy in parking lot of Walmart) that Lamictal causes. I'm forgetful and absent-minded and spastic on good days WITHOUT meds. It's terrible now. :(
Ok, I have nothing to say in this post. Or, rather, I have a lot to say, but no time to say it. This is actually for 2-20, but I'm just now taking the time to write it at, like, 3:30 am. SO. FREAKING. BUSY.
Basically, I just wrote this to chart my mood. I'm going to finish my work stuff and go to bed. I'll do my best to post something of more substance tomorrow.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
On Sadism And Masochism
Mood: 0...just kinda meh
Meds: A little after noon
Sleep: 8 or so hours
Other: Not much else to say. Gotta work all weekend. I'm kind of tired of having to work harder and harder to keep making the same amount of money. No, I'm not going to go get a "real" job. I hate when people say that. My job pays real money, doesn't it? So that makes it "real." I think I'll do some research on new SEO stuff. My house needs cleaning so bad, but I feel like if I'm up, I need to be working on work stuff. I need a break from reality, I think. I'm supposed to go to New York with Fangbunny in March, but I don't know if I'll be able to afford it. :( Gotta come up with the money to pay taxes somehow. Nothing from him. My friend L. is moving to Huntsville from all indications, so it's just gonna be Fangbunny and me in this town now. It's not that I dislike where I am; it's just kinda lonely. Sorry I'm kind of a downer. There's just not a lot going on right this second.
I doubt anyone other than possibly Fangbunny and Kitty reads this blog, but I'm going to put this disclaimer out there. If you're offended, disgusted, or otherwise annoyed by discussion of BDSM, then you'd probably better sit this one out. I'm not going to go into extreme TMI detail of my sex life or anything, but it *will* be an in-depth look at the thought processes behind it. Well, at MY thought processes, anyway. I don't presume to speak for every pervert out there.
As you've probably figured out by now, I've been kinked to the point of fucked-up-ness for as long as I can remember. I've only been acting on it with other people for 7 or 8 years now. In some ways, yes, it's a coping mechanism for all the other shit in my life, but mostly, I consider it as much of a sexual orientation as being bisexual and having a problem with monogamy.
There are aspects of it that I'm still trying to figure out, but I've pretty much got the sadomasochism parts down. So that's what I'll be talking about today.
The masochistic aspects of me are pretty clear-cut. I'm both physically and emotionally masochistic. When I can indulge these parts of me in healthy ways, things work out fine. When I'm denied the ability to do so, I WILL seek out whatever ways possible to get it, and those ways tend to be self-destructive.
It's a double-edged sword. In some ways, indulging my masochistic side serves as a form of release for negative emotions. It's as if making the outside hurt as much as the inside does gets rid of all the inner turmoil through osmosis or some shit. On the other hand, I do a lot of ridiculous things--like lashing out at people--to get the urge satisfied when I can't get it any other way.
The sadistic part of me is a little more complicated. I've decided it really isn't sadism at all. I should probably point out that I tend to be fairly empathic. Not in the woo-woo "I'm psychic" sense, just in the "I'm sensitive to social cues" way. So I've kind of decided that my sadism is actually more masochism by proxy. Which is yet another aspect in my lashing out at people.
I'm working on these things, but it's incredibly hard to change ingrained behaviors. I'm honestly craving a maso fix right now, and I'm having to wrestle with the urge to get it in an unhealthy way. Right now, I've got a handle on it, though.
To be honest, I still have a lot of hang-ups even revolving around this part of my sexuality. I hope that one day I'll be able to work through those, too.
Ok, going to Pizza Hut with Fangbunny. I'm starving, and we need to hurry up and get back here to work tonight. Bye-bye.
Meds: A little after noon
Sleep: 8 or so hours
Other: Not much else to say. Gotta work all weekend. I'm kind of tired of having to work harder and harder to keep making the same amount of money. No, I'm not going to go get a "real" job. I hate when people say that. My job pays real money, doesn't it? So that makes it "real." I think I'll do some research on new SEO stuff. My house needs cleaning so bad, but I feel like if I'm up, I need to be working on work stuff. I need a break from reality, I think. I'm supposed to go to New York with Fangbunny in March, but I don't know if I'll be able to afford it. :( Gotta come up with the money to pay taxes somehow. Nothing from him. My friend L. is moving to Huntsville from all indications, so it's just gonna be Fangbunny and me in this town now. It's not that I dislike where I am; it's just kinda lonely. Sorry I'm kind of a downer. There's just not a lot going on right this second.
I doubt anyone other than possibly Fangbunny and Kitty reads this blog, but I'm going to put this disclaimer out there. If you're offended, disgusted, or otherwise annoyed by discussion of BDSM, then you'd probably better sit this one out. I'm not going to go into extreme TMI detail of my sex life or anything, but it *will* be an in-depth look at the thought processes behind it. Well, at MY thought processes, anyway. I don't presume to speak for every pervert out there.
As you've probably figured out by now, I've been kinked to the point of fucked-up-ness for as long as I can remember. I've only been acting on it with other people for 7 or 8 years now. In some ways, yes, it's a coping mechanism for all the other shit in my life, but mostly, I consider it as much of a sexual orientation as being bisexual and having a problem with monogamy.
There are aspects of it that I'm still trying to figure out, but I've pretty much got the sadomasochism parts down. So that's what I'll be talking about today.
The masochistic aspects of me are pretty clear-cut. I'm both physically and emotionally masochistic. When I can indulge these parts of me in healthy ways, things work out fine. When I'm denied the ability to do so, I WILL seek out whatever ways possible to get it, and those ways tend to be self-destructive.
It's a double-edged sword. In some ways, indulging my masochistic side serves as a form of release for negative emotions. It's as if making the outside hurt as much as the inside does gets rid of all the inner turmoil through osmosis or some shit. On the other hand, I do a lot of ridiculous things--like lashing out at people--to get the urge satisfied when I can't get it any other way.
The sadistic part of me is a little more complicated. I've decided it really isn't sadism at all. I should probably point out that I tend to be fairly empathic. Not in the woo-woo "I'm psychic" sense, just in the "I'm sensitive to social cues" way. So I've kind of decided that my sadism is actually more masochism by proxy. Which is yet another aspect in my lashing out at people.
I'm working on these things, but it's incredibly hard to change ingrained behaviors. I'm honestly craving a maso fix right now, and I'm having to wrestle with the urge to get it in an unhealthy way. Right now, I've got a handle on it, though.
To be honest, I still have a lot of hang-ups even revolving around this part of my sexuality. I hope that one day I'll be able to work through those, too.
Ok, going to Pizza Hut with Fangbunny. I'm starving, and we need to hurry up and get back here to work tonight. Bye-bye.
Friday, February 18, 2011
My Only Wish Is For Death To Come Swiftly
Mood: 1, kind of neutral
Meds: Around 11:15 am
Sleep: I'm not sure. Anywhere from 8-10 hours. I didn't sleep well, and I kept having crazy dreams. Got up around 11.
Other: Plans have changed. Kitty's coming next weekend instead of this one. Didn't get paid today, but at least she let us know yesterday that we wouldn't get it until Monday or Tuesday. That's better than she's been doing. Currently starving. Nothing from him, and I've gotten to the point where I've come to expect it. Need to work a lot today.
So I had the worst idea ever this morning. Ok, first of all, I should say I've been losing weight. Not a whole lot, just some. I'm not doing anything in particular. I think it's just the fact that I kind of don't feel like eating. I'm not sure why; it just happened.
Anyway, worst idea ever. I thought that since I'm losing weight, anyway, I should try to exercise a little to help the whole process along. As fat as I am, I figure I could drop a dress size, at least, pretty easily, right?
Oh, God. I'm in agony. I wasn't joking when I said this was the worst idea ever. I'm literally trembling all over, and it ain't 'cause I'm cold.
My only wish is for death to come swiftly. There's no reason to prolong my suffering anymore. Oh, let me shake off this mortal coil and go on to my greater reward, etc., etc., etc.
Actually, I'd settle for a leg massage and something greasy to eat. Or Chinese. Oh, hell, that's redundant, isn't it?
Meds: Around 11:15 am
Sleep: I'm not sure. Anywhere from 8-10 hours. I didn't sleep well, and I kept having crazy dreams. Got up around 11.
Other: Plans have changed. Kitty's coming next weekend instead of this one. Didn't get paid today, but at least she let us know yesterday that we wouldn't get it until Monday or Tuesday. That's better than she's been doing. Currently starving. Nothing from him, and I've gotten to the point where I've come to expect it. Need to work a lot today.
So I had the worst idea ever this morning. Ok, first of all, I should say I've been losing weight. Not a whole lot, just some. I'm not doing anything in particular. I think it's just the fact that I kind of don't feel like eating. I'm not sure why; it just happened.
Anyway, worst idea ever. I thought that since I'm losing weight, anyway, I should try to exercise a little to help the whole process along. As fat as I am, I figure I could drop a dress size, at least, pretty easily, right?
Oh, God. I'm in agony. I wasn't joking when I said this was the worst idea ever. I'm literally trembling all over, and it ain't 'cause I'm cold.
My only wish is for death to come swiftly. There's no reason to prolong my suffering anymore. Oh, let me shake off this mortal coil and go on to my greater reward, etc., etc., etc.
Actually, I'd settle for a leg massage and something greasy to eat. Or Chinese. Oh, hell, that's redundant, isn't it?
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Not Much To Say
Mood: -1, kinda down, but making it
Meds: 12:30 pm
Sleep: 8 hours
Other: Got some good news as far as work goes. Have had a headache for, like, a week now. It goes away if I take something, but as soon as the Advil or whatever wears off, it's back again with a vengeance. Having problems out of one of my wisdom teeth, too. Hurts like a bitch. Kitty is coming home this weekend (we think). Kind of feeling bummed for various reasons. As always, nothing from him. Incredibly tired and thinking about bed, despite the fact that I need to work.
I'm kind of meh today. I've got a lot on my mind, but I'm too tired to deal with it. I'm not sure if the exhaustion is mental, physical, emotional, or a little of all of it. I know these are things that need to be dealt with, but I don't think I'm capable of handling it at the moment. Hopefully in a day or two, I'll feel more up to it.
I'm lonely, honestly. Not in that faux-tragic "no one loves me" sort of way. I have plenty of people who love me, and I know this. I appreciate my friends and everyone who cares about. I guess I just need attention and affection. I've been starved for those two things my whole life. *Eyeroll*
Yes, this is me whining and not being "proactive" in dealing with my various pathologies. Deal with it. I'll handle it in a healthy way later. For now, I think I just need to turn my mind off.
I don't have a witty sign-off today. Sorry 'bout that. Instead, I'll leave you with this song, which has been playing off and on in my head for at least a week now.
Meds: 12:30 pm
Sleep: 8 hours
Other: Got some good news as far as work goes. Have had a headache for, like, a week now. It goes away if I take something, but as soon as the Advil or whatever wears off, it's back again with a vengeance. Having problems out of one of my wisdom teeth, too. Hurts like a bitch. Kitty is coming home this weekend (we think). Kind of feeling bummed for various reasons. As always, nothing from him. Incredibly tired and thinking about bed, despite the fact that I need to work.
I'm kind of meh today. I've got a lot on my mind, but I'm too tired to deal with it. I'm not sure if the exhaustion is mental, physical, emotional, or a little of all of it. I know these are things that need to be dealt with, but I don't think I'm capable of handling it at the moment. Hopefully in a day or two, I'll feel more up to it.
I'm lonely, honestly. Not in that faux-tragic "no one loves me" sort of way. I have plenty of people who love me, and I know this. I appreciate my friends and everyone who cares about. I guess I just need attention and affection. I've been starved for those two things my whole life. *Eyeroll*
Yes, this is me whining and not being "proactive" in dealing with my various pathologies. Deal with it. I'll handle it in a healthy way later. For now, I think I just need to turn my mind off.
I don't have a witty sign-off today. Sorry 'bout that. Instead, I'll leave you with this song, which has been playing off and on in my head for at least a week now.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Exercise 1
Mood: 3, about the same as yesterday
Meds: Shit, I haven't taken them yet...one second...ok, about 12:30 pm
Sleep: 10 glorious hours
Other: Finally got some real sleep. It might've involved Benadryl. Got paid for some blogs I wrote last week. Got a Valentine's card from my mother with a ballet-dancing bear with a tutu and toe shoes on the front and a $50 bill inside yesterday. Went walking yesterday with roomie, who will henceforth be known as Fangbunny because I'm tired of just calling her roomie, and I imagine she will factor into this blog fairly regularly. Hope we'll walk again today, too, but I've gotta find some shoes that don't make my feet hurt to walk in them. Fangbunny got some really bad news yesterday, which made me feel really bad for her and totally useless because there was really nothing I can do. Hoping she feels at least a little better when she gets up. If she's agreeable, I think I'm going to take her to Golden Corral when she gets up. I'm craving it, and I know she likes it, too. Still not entirely sure if things are cool with Kitty, but I'm going to act as if they are until further notice. Still nothing from him, naturally.
Ok, as promised, I'm going to start going through some of the exercises in the workbook. I'm actually going to cram several of them into this post, otherwise it'll take forever to get to the important parts.
I'm going to do the exercises and possibly comment on some of them. If there's anyone who's reading besides Fangbunny, you don't have to actually read this shit unless you want to. It's more for my own personal edification than anything.
First thing is the Mood Disorder Questionnaire. This is actually the same one my doctor had me fill out and answer when I went to see her. Yay for the earning of a diagnosis! *Eyeroll*
Sorry it's not any bigger. It's small in the Kindle, too. You may be able to click on it to make it more readable. My answers are in blue to make it at least a little more readable.
Anyway, in order to be diagnosed, you have to answer "yes" to 7 of the 13 in the first section. As you may notice, I answered "yes" to 12 of the 13. My doctor took one look at the sheet and said, "Oh, yes, we have a problem." You also have to answer "yes" to question 2 and indicate either a moderate problem or a serious problem in question 3. As you can see, I did all these things. I think the one the doctor gave me also asked about immediate family members being diagnosed with a mental illness, too, but it was just to see if there could possibly be a genetic link or not.
****Crazies, please note. This questionnaire isn't the be-all and end-all of diagnosis. My doctor was convinced just from what I told her before I took it that I was bipolar. She just had me fill it out as a formality. For God's sake, don't diagnose yourself from this. Go to the damn doctor if you're worried.****
There's not much to say about this. I'm crazy. The end.
So moving right along to the next one. There's a section in the beginning of the workbook that discusses depression. This is the depression checklist, which looks wonky because you can't copy and paste; you have to screenshot and work with it as an image. Part of it was on one page and part was on another, so I had to mash it up as best I could. Sorry 'bout that.
Not a lot to say about this one, either. I don't have all these symptoms every time I'm depressed, but it does say to check all that you've *ever* had. So. Yeah. Depressive symptoms. Those are the ones I've experienced at various times in the past.
Next in the book comes a section on mania. This is the mania checklist, which I imagine is going to look just as wonky as the depression one. Again, sorry about that.
Those are the manic symptoms I've experienced in the past. Unlike the depressive ones, most of those tend to occur together, depending on the severity of the episode. It should also be noted that I've only had one euphoric mania ever, and that was drug-induced when I started the Wellbutrin. All the others have been the scary, ugly kinds of mania.
Even though there's not a worksheet for it, there are sections on both mixed episodes and psychosis. Since I've experienced both these things, I should at least comment on them.
Mixed episodes: Where you've got depressive and manic symptoms at the same time. Scariest thing ever. The last one I had, which started in October 2010, is what prompted me to get help. I felt like shit, hated myself, was convinced the rest of the world hated me, too. But instead of just lying around and being in a funk, I was full of nervous, restless energy. I was always on the verge of panic and hysteria. My sleep schedule was all over the place, which made it worse. I couldn't work, and my emotions changed at the drop of a hat. The rage, which is ever-present, anyway, was awful. I was preoccupied and obsessive and had delusions (which I'll talk about in the psychosis section in a minute).
The worst part was the conviction that the world would be a better place without me. My thoughts were racing and often seemed like they were hijacked by someone who wasn't me. I started being afraid to drive because I kept feeling compelled to drive into a tree or into oncoming traffic. Kept looking up how many of "X" drugs it would take to OD without really realizing what I was doing. At the end, I finally got scared to stay by myself because I wasn't sure what I'd do while I was out of my mind.
Psychosis: Yes, please. I don't hallucinate, and I thank God for small favors there. But delusions? Yes. Only when I'm in the midst of an episode, though. When I feel "normal," I don't have them. In the mixed state I mentioned in the previous two paragraphs, I was consumed with paranoid delusions. It was more than just the general "someone's out to get me" feeling that most people think of when they think of paranoia.
I have a rather suspicious nature under the best of circumstances. I've been fucked over left and right my whole life, and people have to prove to me that I can trust them. I think of it as a healthy distrust of people when I'm feeling ok. My crazy hijacks my normal suspicion of humanity when I'm in an episode, though, and it runs with it.
In my last episode, I was convinced that everyone hated me. I thought everyone but Fangbunny and my friend/old roommate K. were all involved in a vast conspiracy to make me look like a fool and fuck me up in the worst ways they possibly could. Why Fangbunny and K. were exempt from this, I have no idea.
I couldn't sleep at night because I was afraid someone was going to break in my house. Both doors were locked and latched, and all the windows were locked. This is not a bad neighborhood. But despite that, I was afraid someone would come in and probably try to kill me in my bed. So I would wait up until daylight before I'd sleep because, for some reason, I thought nobody would bother me during the day. If I was so sleepy that I couldn't stay up til daylight, I would turn the lamp on beside my bed and go to sleep. There were two reasons for this. 1.) So anyone outside the house who might want to come in would see that there was a light on and think whoever was inside was still awake, and thus be discouraged from bothering. 2.) So that if someone *did* come into my bedroom, I'd at least be able to see them.
I should also mention that I have some weird hobbies. One of those is reading about conspiracy theories. Most of the time, I just find them amusing. There are some that I at least somewhat buy into, though they're usually the milder ones that have been found to be at least partially true.
While I was nuts this last time, I was reading about all these conspiracy theories again, mostly on Wikipedia. I got afraid to be alone in my house because I was convinced someone was monitoring my computer usage and might try to "get rid" of me because I put it all together and now "knew" too much. (Yes, because we all know that Wiki publishes state secrets. *Eyeroll*)
I'm really ashamed to admit this, but I was afraid that there might be snipers outside my apartment, waiting for the right time to assassinate me. (Notice that it would've been an assassination in my mind instead of a murder because I was obviously THAT important.) If I heard anything outside, I'd lay down on my bed, so no one outside could see my outline in the window. Half the time, I'd walk crouched over to the bathroom and the kitchen for the same reason.
Now, in my defense, the remaining rational part of me kept saying, "This is the stupidest thing ever." The crazy argued back, though, and said it was possible. I argued with myself over it constantly, and it was exhausting. I guess the only good thing about that is that even in the grips of some of the worst psychotic episodes, my mind is still there enough to tell myself I'm being a dumbass.
Also, let me make it clear that ALL those delusions are gone now. Fangbunny moving in helped a lot. Then, three days after I hit the 100 mg. dose of Lamictal (you have to go up slowly; it took about a month, and that was me rushing it along), the racing thoughts came to a screeching halt. There hasn't been anything even remotely resembling a delusion since early January. That's because I'm not cycling anymore. That alone is enough to make the stupid cognitive problems that Lamictal causes worth it.
Ok, I swear, I'm about to end this. I'm just trying to get through all the preliminary stuff at once, so that I can get to the useful things. There are some questions about various things that have already been covered in the mania and depression sections, so I think I'll skip those. There's a life chart, but I don't remember enough about when I cycle up and down throughout my life to do that, and I don't think it's really that relevant, anyway. There's also a mood chart, but I'm doing my own version of that at the beginning of my daily posts, anyhow, so I'll skip that, too. I'm going to copy some of the other questions to get through the first chapter. Not much longer, I promise.
Self-Examination
~Has your performance at school or work suffered recently? Yes
~Are you having trouble with concentration or memory, which may be impacting your work? At the moment, no, but in the past, yes.
~Has your behavior caused problems in your relationships at school or work recently or in the past? Not really.
~Have you lost jobs or been kicked out of school because of these behaviors? Kicked out, no. Had to withdraw, yes.
Relationships
~What symptoms have you experienced that have been problematic and have led to relationships ending or being damaged? Rage. Paranoia. Rage. Irritability. Rage. Anxiety/panic. Rage. Racing thoughts (when communicated). Have I mentioned rage?
~Have you lost relationships because of how you behaved? Yes.
~Do you communicate with the people you care about? I try to, but I don't do it well.
~Do you have a tendency to push those people away? Yes.
~Do you have healthy relationships in your life? No. (Not counting friends.)
~Are you satisfied with the quality of relationships in your life? No.
Substance Abuse
(There's a whole thing here about whether you use alcohol/drugs to cope with your illness or whether your alcohol/drug use is a symptom of your illness. Then, there are questions that determine which it is.)
Substance Use As Coping Mechanism
~Do you drink or use drugs to help yourself feel less depressed? Yes. Alcohol only, though.
~To help with problems sleeping? Rarely.
~In an attempt to calm yourself down? Yes.
~To try to slow your thoughts so you can think more clearly? Yes.
~Because you're having difficulties in relationships and the substances help you feel better about the problems and yourself? Yes.
Substance Use As A Symptom Of Illness
~Do you tend to have the urge to use drugs or alcohol more often when you're in a manic episode? No. I do it occasionally, but I mostly do it when depressed or mixed.
~Are you using drugs or alcohol because you want to live on the edge or have more excitement in your life? Ew. No.
~Are you drinking or using drugs because life seems dull and you're trying to spice it up? God, no. My life is never dull.
~Are you drinking or using drugs because you want to hold on to the euphoric feelings that often accompany a manic episode? No. Also, I don't have euphoric manias.
My answers to these questions clearly indicate that my periodic binge-drinking is a coping mechanism, rather than a symptom of my illness. Of course, I already knew that and talked about it in an earlier post. But there it is.
Ok, I think that wraps it up. Thank GOD. That was LONG. Fangbunny's up now, so I'm about to hop in the shower, so we can go eat. I may update later today, but I may not post anything else until tomorrow. No idea.
If you've read this post in its entirety, you absolutely deserve a gold star. So here you go. ****
Meds: Shit, I haven't taken them yet...one second...ok, about 12:30 pm
Sleep: 10 glorious hours
Other: Finally got some real sleep. It might've involved Benadryl. Got paid for some blogs I wrote last week. Got a Valentine's card from my mother with a ballet-dancing bear with a tutu and toe shoes on the front and a $50 bill inside yesterday. Went walking yesterday with roomie, who will henceforth be known as Fangbunny because I'm tired of just calling her roomie, and I imagine she will factor into this blog fairly regularly. Hope we'll walk again today, too, but I've gotta find some shoes that don't make my feet hurt to walk in them. Fangbunny got some really bad news yesterday, which made me feel really bad for her and totally useless because there was really nothing I can do. Hoping she feels at least a little better when she gets up. If she's agreeable, I think I'm going to take her to Golden Corral when she gets up. I'm craving it, and I know she likes it, too. Still not entirely sure if things are cool with Kitty, but I'm going to act as if they are until further notice. Still nothing from him, naturally.
Ok, as promised, I'm going to start going through some of the exercises in the workbook. I'm actually going to cram several of them into this post, otherwise it'll take forever to get to the important parts.
I'm going to do the exercises and possibly comment on some of them. If there's anyone who's reading besides Fangbunny, you don't have to actually read this shit unless you want to. It's more for my own personal edification than anything.
First thing is the Mood Disorder Questionnaire. This is actually the same one my doctor had me fill out and answer when I went to see her. Yay for the earning of a diagnosis! *Eyeroll*
Sorry it's not any bigger. It's small in the Kindle, too. You may be able to click on it to make it more readable. My answers are in blue to make it at least a little more readable.
Anyway, in order to be diagnosed, you have to answer "yes" to 7 of the 13 in the first section. As you may notice, I answered "yes" to 12 of the 13. My doctor took one look at the sheet and said, "Oh, yes, we have a problem." You also have to answer "yes" to question 2 and indicate either a moderate problem or a serious problem in question 3. As you can see, I did all these things. I think the one the doctor gave me also asked about immediate family members being diagnosed with a mental illness, too, but it was just to see if there could possibly be a genetic link or not.
****Crazies, please note. This questionnaire isn't the be-all and end-all of diagnosis. My doctor was convinced just from what I told her before I took it that I was bipolar. She just had me fill it out as a formality. For God's sake, don't diagnose yourself from this. Go to the damn doctor if you're worried.****
There's not much to say about this. I'm crazy. The end.
So moving right along to the next one. There's a section in the beginning of the workbook that discusses depression. This is the depression checklist, which looks wonky because you can't copy and paste; you have to screenshot and work with it as an image. Part of it was on one page and part was on another, so I had to mash it up as best I could. Sorry 'bout that.
Not a lot to say about this one, either. I don't have all these symptoms every time I'm depressed, but it does say to check all that you've *ever* had. So. Yeah. Depressive symptoms. Those are the ones I've experienced at various times in the past.
Next in the book comes a section on mania. This is the mania checklist, which I imagine is going to look just as wonky as the depression one. Again, sorry about that.
Those are the manic symptoms I've experienced in the past. Unlike the depressive ones, most of those tend to occur together, depending on the severity of the episode. It should also be noted that I've only had one euphoric mania ever, and that was drug-induced when I started the Wellbutrin. All the others have been the scary, ugly kinds of mania.
Even though there's not a worksheet for it, there are sections on both mixed episodes and psychosis. Since I've experienced both these things, I should at least comment on them.
Mixed episodes: Where you've got depressive and manic symptoms at the same time. Scariest thing ever. The last one I had, which started in October 2010, is what prompted me to get help. I felt like shit, hated myself, was convinced the rest of the world hated me, too. But instead of just lying around and being in a funk, I was full of nervous, restless energy. I was always on the verge of panic and hysteria. My sleep schedule was all over the place, which made it worse. I couldn't work, and my emotions changed at the drop of a hat. The rage, which is ever-present, anyway, was awful. I was preoccupied and obsessive and had delusions (which I'll talk about in the psychosis section in a minute).
The worst part was the conviction that the world would be a better place without me. My thoughts were racing and often seemed like they were hijacked by someone who wasn't me. I started being afraid to drive because I kept feeling compelled to drive into a tree or into oncoming traffic. Kept looking up how many of "X" drugs it would take to OD without really realizing what I was doing. At the end, I finally got scared to stay by myself because I wasn't sure what I'd do while I was out of my mind.
Psychosis: Yes, please. I don't hallucinate, and I thank God for small favors there. But delusions? Yes. Only when I'm in the midst of an episode, though. When I feel "normal," I don't have them. In the mixed state I mentioned in the previous two paragraphs, I was consumed with paranoid delusions. It was more than just the general "someone's out to get me" feeling that most people think of when they think of paranoia.
I have a rather suspicious nature under the best of circumstances. I've been fucked over left and right my whole life, and people have to prove to me that I can trust them. I think of it as a healthy distrust of people when I'm feeling ok. My crazy hijacks my normal suspicion of humanity when I'm in an episode, though, and it runs with it.
In my last episode, I was convinced that everyone hated me. I thought everyone but Fangbunny and my friend/old roommate K. were all involved in a vast conspiracy to make me look like a fool and fuck me up in the worst ways they possibly could. Why Fangbunny and K. were exempt from this, I have no idea.
I couldn't sleep at night because I was afraid someone was going to break in my house. Both doors were locked and latched, and all the windows were locked. This is not a bad neighborhood. But despite that, I was afraid someone would come in and probably try to kill me in my bed. So I would wait up until daylight before I'd sleep because, for some reason, I thought nobody would bother me during the day. If I was so sleepy that I couldn't stay up til daylight, I would turn the lamp on beside my bed and go to sleep. There were two reasons for this. 1.) So anyone outside the house who might want to come in would see that there was a light on and think whoever was inside was still awake, and thus be discouraged from bothering. 2.) So that if someone *did* come into my bedroom, I'd at least be able to see them.
I should also mention that I have some weird hobbies. One of those is reading about conspiracy theories. Most of the time, I just find them amusing. There are some that I at least somewhat buy into, though they're usually the milder ones that have been found to be at least partially true.
While I was nuts this last time, I was reading about all these conspiracy theories again, mostly on Wikipedia. I got afraid to be alone in my house because I was convinced someone was monitoring my computer usage and might try to "get rid" of me because I put it all together and now "knew" too much. (Yes, because we all know that Wiki publishes state secrets. *Eyeroll*)
I'm really ashamed to admit this, but I was afraid that there might be snipers outside my apartment, waiting for the right time to assassinate me. (Notice that it would've been an assassination in my mind instead of a murder because I was obviously THAT important.) If I heard anything outside, I'd lay down on my bed, so no one outside could see my outline in the window. Half the time, I'd walk crouched over to the bathroom and the kitchen for the same reason.
Now, in my defense, the remaining rational part of me kept saying, "This is the stupidest thing ever." The crazy argued back, though, and said it was possible. I argued with myself over it constantly, and it was exhausting. I guess the only good thing about that is that even in the grips of some of the worst psychotic episodes, my mind is still there enough to tell myself I'm being a dumbass.
Also, let me make it clear that ALL those delusions are gone now. Fangbunny moving in helped a lot. Then, three days after I hit the 100 mg. dose of Lamictal (you have to go up slowly; it took about a month, and that was me rushing it along), the racing thoughts came to a screeching halt. There hasn't been anything even remotely resembling a delusion since early January. That's because I'm not cycling anymore. That alone is enough to make the stupid cognitive problems that Lamictal causes worth it.
Ok, I swear, I'm about to end this. I'm just trying to get through all the preliminary stuff at once, so that I can get to the useful things. There are some questions about various things that have already been covered in the mania and depression sections, so I think I'll skip those. There's a life chart, but I don't remember enough about when I cycle up and down throughout my life to do that, and I don't think it's really that relevant, anyway. There's also a mood chart, but I'm doing my own version of that at the beginning of my daily posts, anyhow, so I'll skip that, too. I'm going to copy some of the other questions to get through the first chapter. Not much longer, I promise.
Self-Examination
~Has your performance at school or work suffered recently? Yes
~Are you having trouble with concentration or memory, which may be impacting your work? At the moment, no, but in the past, yes.
~Has your behavior caused problems in your relationships at school or work recently or in the past? Not really.
~Have you lost jobs or been kicked out of school because of these behaviors? Kicked out, no. Had to withdraw, yes.
Relationships
~What symptoms have you experienced that have been problematic and have led to relationships ending or being damaged? Rage. Paranoia. Rage. Irritability. Rage. Anxiety/panic. Rage. Racing thoughts (when communicated). Have I mentioned rage?
~Have you lost relationships because of how you behaved? Yes.
~Do you communicate with the people you care about? I try to, but I don't do it well.
~Do you have a tendency to push those people away? Yes.
~Do you have healthy relationships in your life? No. (Not counting friends.)
~Are you satisfied with the quality of relationships in your life? No.
Substance Abuse
(There's a whole thing here about whether you use alcohol/drugs to cope with your illness or whether your alcohol/drug use is a symptom of your illness. Then, there are questions that determine which it is.)
Substance Use As Coping Mechanism
~Do you drink or use drugs to help yourself feel less depressed? Yes. Alcohol only, though.
~To help with problems sleeping? Rarely.
~In an attempt to calm yourself down? Yes.
~To try to slow your thoughts so you can think more clearly? Yes.
~Because you're having difficulties in relationships and the substances help you feel better about the problems and yourself? Yes.
Substance Use As A Symptom Of Illness
~Do you tend to have the urge to use drugs or alcohol more often when you're in a manic episode? No. I do it occasionally, but I mostly do it when depressed or mixed.
~Are you using drugs or alcohol because you want to live on the edge or have more excitement in your life? Ew. No.
~Are you drinking or using drugs because life seems dull and you're trying to spice it up? God, no. My life is never dull.
~Are you drinking or using drugs because you want to hold on to the euphoric feelings that often accompany a manic episode? No. Also, I don't have euphoric manias.
My answers to these questions clearly indicate that my periodic binge-drinking is a coping mechanism, rather than a symptom of my illness. Of course, I already knew that and talked about it in an earlier post. But there it is.
Ok, I think that wraps it up. Thank GOD. That was LONG. Fangbunny's up now, so I'm about to hop in the shower, so we can go eat. I may update later today, but I may not post anything else until tomorrow. No idea.
If you've read this post in its entirety, you absolutely deserve a gold star. So here you go. ****
Intro To DBT
I feel as though my lack of sleep has finally caught up with me. I fully expect to pass out face-first on my keyboard at any time now. For that reason, I'm not going to post a really long blog, especially considering that I already posted a rather long-ish one this morning.
I mentioned DBT, Dialectical Behavior Therapy, in several other posts. I didn't really talk very much about what it is and how it helps, though. So I'm going to write a quick intro to DBT, partly to educate anyone who might find it useful and partly to give myself a quick refresher page to come back to in case I ever need it.
Marsha Linehan created DBT back in the 90s for use with patients with Borderline Personality Disorder. Back then, everyone thought borderlines were more or less beyond help, so anyone who got slapped with the borderline label would get shit on at every turn because therapists didn't know how to deal with them. Linehan, however, wanted to help the people psychology forgot, so she spent time developing this method of therapy based partly in regular cognitive-behavioral methods and partly in Zen Buddhism.
Nowadays, DBT has been studied extensively. It's the only thing that's been shown to really work with borderlines, but researchers are just now starting to branch out into studying its efficacy with other mental illnesses. It appears to be faring pretty well in the things that I've read.
Anyway...to make a long story short, DBT is made up of four parts:
~Mindfulness: Learning to live in and experience the present moment, rather than reliving painful experiences from the past or worrying about what may happen in the future
~Distress Tolerance: Learning to deal with unpleasant, uncomfortable, or painful events and/or feelings with grace
~Emotional Regulation: Learning to identify emotions and emotional triggers and learning to stop being a slave to one's emotions
~Interpersonal Effectiveness: Learning to set boundaries, have self-respect, manage one's relationships, etc.
Keep in mind that these are very, very abridged definitions of what the whole thing's all about. I just wanted to run through it really quickly, so I could cement in my mind what I'm trying to do and give at least a little bit of an explanation, so I won't look nuts doing these exercises.
Oh, the book I have is The Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook for Bipolar Disorder: Using DBT to Regain Control of Your Emotions and Your Life by Sheri Van Dijk. I'll be using the exercises in this book to help me, and I'll most likely be writing them down in this blog.
Now that that's over, it's bedtime. Vain bunnies have to get their beauty rest and all.
I mentioned DBT, Dialectical Behavior Therapy, in several other posts. I didn't really talk very much about what it is and how it helps, though. So I'm going to write a quick intro to DBT, partly to educate anyone who might find it useful and partly to give myself a quick refresher page to come back to in case I ever need it.
Marsha Linehan created DBT back in the 90s for use with patients with Borderline Personality Disorder. Back then, everyone thought borderlines were more or less beyond help, so anyone who got slapped with the borderline label would get shit on at every turn because therapists didn't know how to deal with them. Linehan, however, wanted to help the people psychology forgot, so she spent time developing this method of therapy based partly in regular cognitive-behavioral methods and partly in Zen Buddhism.
Nowadays, DBT has been studied extensively. It's the only thing that's been shown to really work with borderlines, but researchers are just now starting to branch out into studying its efficacy with other mental illnesses. It appears to be faring pretty well in the things that I've read.
Anyway...to make a long story short, DBT is made up of four parts:
~Mindfulness: Learning to live in and experience the present moment, rather than reliving painful experiences from the past or worrying about what may happen in the future
~Distress Tolerance: Learning to deal with unpleasant, uncomfortable, or painful events and/or feelings with grace
~Emotional Regulation: Learning to identify emotions and emotional triggers and learning to stop being a slave to one's emotions
~Interpersonal Effectiveness: Learning to set boundaries, have self-respect, manage one's relationships, etc.
Keep in mind that these are very, very abridged definitions of what the whole thing's all about. I just wanted to run through it really quickly, so I could cement in my mind what I'm trying to do and give at least a little bit of an explanation, so I won't look nuts doing these exercises.
Oh, the book I have is The Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook for Bipolar Disorder: Using DBT to Regain Control of Your Emotions and Your Life by Sheri Van Dijk. I'll be using the exercises in this book to help me, and I'll most likely be writing them down in this blog.
Now that that's over, it's bedtime. Vain bunnies have to get their beauty rest and all.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Speaking Of Vices, Here's Another--Sex
Mood: 3, much better than the past couple of days, but not manic--just happier
Meds: 11 am-ish
Sleep: 6 1/2 hours; this is starting to worry me, as the normal amount of sleep I need is around 9 hours, but I'm going to attribute it to outside circumstances for now
Other: Last night, I discovered that when I paid my phone bill yesterday, they mistakenly charged me twice. (The first time, I think I entered the zip code incorrectly, and both attempts at running the card were pending on my account, thus overdrawing it.) I woke up around 10:30 this morning and called the bank and was given the run-around. My phone company bills cards through a third-party biller, so I had to call them to get the number for their biller. I was annoyed at the bank, but the folks with the third-party biller were SO helpful.
After 45 minutes, 3 calls to the completely unhelpful bank, and 3 calls to the biller who bent over backwards to help me, I got my damn money back. By that time, I was so awake, I figured I might as well stay up. I just sent off an email to the biller's customer service department, thanking them for going above and beyond to help me get my money back when my own bank pulled the "I don't know what to tell you" shit on me. I hope it's forwarded to the right people because I know from experience that working in call centers, you usually get nothing but hateful, bitchy people, and I hope my compliment will make their day a little better.
I asked for it to be forwarded to their supervisor, too. I doubt they'll get raises for being helpful to one customer, but maybe it'll make them look good, at any rate. That part should help when it comes raise time, at least.
I'm getting more writing/marketing contract work now. Apparently, I'm in great demand nowadays, which makes me happy. I hope I can have the call-taking part phased out within the next 2-3 years, or at least can cut it down significantly. I'd love for the majority of my income to come from writing/marketing. Search engine optimization is pretty much my one true love at this point.
Speaking of work, my boss at one of the companies I contract with, taking calls, has started transferring a lot of her marketing over to me, which is FANTASTIC. In fact, she asked me to write up a "how to blog" thing for the rest of her contractors, so they can all learn the methods to my madness. I typed up this whole long manifesto for her and sent it over, expecting to be paid $20 or so. She told me she was going to give me $100! (Not a typo.) I told her I couldn't take that much for it, but she basically ordered me to take it, LOL. I can't believe someone would want to pay that much for my knowledge, especially considering how basic it is.
Kitty seems better now. Maybe she was just stressed and not angry at me at all. I hope so, anyway. Nothing from him, but that's unsurprising. I'm trying not to think about it. My friends were really great yesterday, what with it being Valentine's Day and all. I think I ended up being, like, 4 people's Valentine! L. (sorority sister/friend), A. (roommate/friend), K. (old roomie/friend), and B. (ex/friend). Well, 5 if you count Kitty. It was really nice of them. Sometimes, just knowing you're important enough to people that they'll do that for you when you're feeling low is enough to make you feel good and special, you know?
Last night ended up being a rather confusing night, which consisted of dinner at the Mexican restaurant with my friend/roommate (as the anti-Valentine), trips to the ATM to get cash to give to my roomie because her bank account was overdrawn, a trip to Wal-Mart for some stuff she needed, me freaking out that I only had $5 in the bank, and the internet finally going out. So suffice it to say, I didn't get to post an exercise from my workbook amidst all that crap. I'm going to try to get one tonight, though. Or maybe an intro to DBT. Something. But for now, something else.
Ok, since yesterday I talked about one vice of mine, I think I'll cover another one today--sex. I know that, like alcohol, sex isn't a vice in and of itself. It's the way that I use it that makes it unhealthy.
Let me see if I can figure out how to explain it. I have serious ISSUES concerning sex. It's not guilt. It's something else. I don't really know when it started, but I assume it was probably when I first started having sex when I was 17.
I'm not going to get into the entire story because it's neither relevant nor interesting. The short version is, I feel like I've been used my entire sexually active life. Even when I was in actual relationships with people, I felt like I was there for my (considerable) sex drive and, let's be real, my considerable abilities in that department. Then, when it happened (as it almost always does) that my desire for sex was higher than that of the dude(s) I was with, they immediately started disparaging me as 'ho who was only using them for sex, etc., etc.
Nice bit of transference and/or projection there, eh? *Eyeroll* This is not helped by the fact that I have what we could call a problem with monogamy. In my defense, I've matured enough to at least be honest about this now.
Add that to the fact that I've never had what I consider a "real" relationship with anyone. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. And despite the fact that I'm kind of a free spirit who would be stifled by the whole house in the suburbs with the dogs and the SUVs and the 2.5 kids and all the quiet desperation that goes along with it, I kind of am a romantic at heart. Something different than what I've had to settle for my whole life would be nice.
But despite the fact that I have ALL THESE DAMN ISSUES with sex, I also know I use it to validate myself as a person. I'm not one of those people who has to be the center of attention all the time, or even most of the time, but I do need time where another person's focus is on me and nothing else on a regular basis. Consider it a product of spending my entire life in an invalidating environment, I guess.
But, you see, most people are not capable of giving me this. It's an unfortunate reflection on our society that most people can't carry on a conversation. A *real* conversation, I mean. Something that both people are equally interested in, something that's not gossip or small talk or banal pop culture. Most people would rather do anything--drink, do drugs, immerse themselves in technology, any damn thing--than to have to actually sit down and spend time together and TALK.
So in order for me to get that me-focused attention, I've always had to fuck. It's pretty much the only time you can get people to remove themselves from all other distractions. I do it even when I don't want to have sex, or even when I don't want to have sex with that particular person or people. It's just that I crave human contact and interaction, and it's the only way I've found that I can consistently get it.
It works...for a little while. While the act is going on, I'm fine. Once it's done, I'm wracked with self-hatred. I hate myself for having so little respect for myself that I'll stoop to being treated as a sex object for a shred of attention. I hate myself for thinking that maybe this time, it'll be different. I hate myself for believing that this is the way get what I need out of people and/or relationships. Sometimes, I cry.
But I still do it. Over and over and over again, it's what I go back to. If it's not alcohol, it's fucking. And I know it's unhealthy, and I'm trying to stop.
Honestly, I'm sort of dying of sexual frustration. Not even in the "I want attention" way, but in the legitimately sexually frustrated kind of way. I haven't had sex in...3 months? Add that to the fact that I've had sex with only one man in the past 2 years--which is completely against my nature, by the way, but I had my reasons. So I'm a little stir-crazy in the sex department.
Off the top of my head, I can think of at least 3 people who'd coming running if I called them for a booty call. But I'm trying incredibly hard to resist the urge, just like I'm going to resist the urge to drink. I know it's only going to make me feel worse instead of better in the long run, but damn...it's hard.
Anyway, the upshot of the whole thing is that I'm trying desperately to correct some of my maladaptive coping behaviors. This isn't to say I'll never have another drink (I don't have the disposition to be a tee-totaler) or never have sex again (don't have the disposition for that, either). I'm just trying to learn to separate genuine desire for alcohol or sex from attempts to sublimate my problems. I want to be able to enjoy the things I enjoy in a healthy way.
In the meantime, I'm glad I have a lot of sex toys. >.<
Meds: 11 am-ish
Sleep: 6 1/2 hours; this is starting to worry me, as the normal amount of sleep I need is around 9 hours, but I'm going to attribute it to outside circumstances for now
Other: Last night, I discovered that when I paid my phone bill yesterday, they mistakenly charged me twice. (The first time, I think I entered the zip code incorrectly, and both attempts at running the card were pending on my account, thus overdrawing it.) I woke up around 10:30 this morning and called the bank and was given the run-around. My phone company bills cards through a third-party biller, so I had to call them to get the number for their biller. I was annoyed at the bank, but the folks with the third-party biller were SO helpful.
After 45 minutes, 3 calls to the completely unhelpful bank, and 3 calls to the biller who bent over backwards to help me, I got my damn money back. By that time, I was so awake, I figured I might as well stay up. I just sent off an email to the biller's customer service department, thanking them for going above and beyond to help me get my money back when my own bank pulled the "I don't know what to tell you" shit on me. I hope it's forwarded to the right people because I know from experience that working in call centers, you usually get nothing but hateful, bitchy people, and I hope my compliment will make their day a little better.
I asked for it to be forwarded to their supervisor, too. I doubt they'll get raises for being helpful to one customer, but maybe it'll make them look good, at any rate. That part should help when it comes raise time, at least.
I'm getting more writing/marketing contract work now. Apparently, I'm in great demand nowadays, which makes me happy. I hope I can have the call-taking part phased out within the next 2-3 years, or at least can cut it down significantly. I'd love for the majority of my income to come from writing/marketing. Search engine optimization is pretty much my one true love at this point.
Speaking of work, my boss at one of the companies I contract with, taking calls, has started transferring a lot of her marketing over to me, which is FANTASTIC. In fact, she asked me to write up a "how to blog" thing for the rest of her contractors, so they can all learn the methods to my madness. I typed up this whole long manifesto for her and sent it over, expecting to be paid $20 or so. She told me she was going to give me $100! (Not a typo.) I told her I couldn't take that much for it, but she basically ordered me to take it, LOL. I can't believe someone would want to pay that much for my knowledge, especially considering how basic it is.
Kitty seems better now. Maybe she was just stressed and not angry at me at all. I hope so, anyway. Nothing from him, but that's unsurprising. I'm trying not to think about it. My friends were really great yesterday, what with it being Valentine's Day and all. I think I ended up being, like, 4 people's Valentine! L. (sorority sister/friend), A. (roommate/friend), K. (old roomie/friend), and B. (ex/friend). Well, 5 if you count Kitty. It was really nice of them. Sometimes, just knowing you're important enough to people that they'll do that for you when you're feeling low is enough to make you feel good and special, you know?
Last night ended up being a rather confusing night, which consisted of dinner at the Mexican restaurant with my friend/roommate (as the anti-Valentine), trips to the ATM to get cash to give to my roomie because her bank account was overdrawn, a trip to Wal-Mart for some stuff she needed, me freaking out that I only had $5 in the bank, and the internet finally going out. So suffice it to say, I didn't get to post an exercise from my workbook amidst all that crap. I'm going to try to get one tonight, though. Or maybe an intro to DBT. Something. But for now, something else.
Ok, since yesterday I talked about one vice of mine, I think I'll cover another one today--sex. I know that, like alcohol, sex isn't a vice in and of itself. It's the way that I use it that makes it unhealthy.
Let me see if I can figure out how to explain it. I have serious ISSUES concerning sex. It's not guilt. It's something else. I don't really know when it started, but I assume it was probably when I first started having sex when I was 17.
I'm not going to get into the entire story because it's neither relevant nor interesting. The short version is, I feel like I've been used my entire sexually active life. Even when I was in actual relationships with people, I felt like I was there for my (considerable) sex drive and, let's be real, my considerable abilities in that department. Then, when it happened (as it almost always does) that my desire for sex was higher than that of the dude(s) I was with, they immediately started disparaging me as 'ho who was only using them for sex, etc., etc.
Nice bit of transference and/or projection there, eh? *Eyeroll* This is not helped by the fact that I have what we could call a problem with monogamy. In my defense, I've matured enough to at least be honest about this now.
Add that to the fact that I've never had what I consider a "real" relationship with anyone. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. And despite the fact that I'm kind of a free spirit who would be stifled by the whole house in the suburbs with the dogs and the SUVs and the 2.5 kids and all the quiet desperation that goes along with it, I kind of am a romantic at heart. Something different than what I've had to settle for my whole life would be nice.
But despite the fact that I have ALL THESE DAMN ISSUES with sex, I also know I use it to validate myself as a person. I'm not one of those people who has to be the center of attention all the time, or even most of the time, but I do need time where another person's focus is on me and nothing else on a regular basis. Consider it a product of spending my entire life in an invalidating environment, I guess.
But, you see, most people are not capable of giving me this. It's an unfortunate reflection on our society that most people can't carry on a conversation. A *real* conversation, I mean. Something that both people are equally interested in, something that's not gossip or small talk or banal pop culture. Most people would rather do anything--drink, do drugs, immerse themselves in technology, any damn thing--than to have to actually sit down and spend time together and TALK.
So in order for me to get that me-focused attention, I've always had to fuck. It's pretty much the only time you can get people to remove themselves from all other distractions. I do it even when I don't want to have sex, or even when I don't want to have sex with that particular person or people. It's just that I crave human contact and interaction, and it's the only way I've found that I can consistently get it.
It works...for a little while. While the act is going on, I'm fine. Once it's done, I'm wracked with self-hatred. I hate myself for having so little respect for myself that I'll stoop to being treated as a sex object for a shred of attention. I hate myself for thinking that maybe this time, it'll be different. I hate myself for believing that this is the way get what I need out of people and/or relationships. Sometimes, I cry.
But I still do it. Over and over and over again, it's what I go back to. If it's not alcohol, it's fucking. And I know it's unhealthy, and I'm trying to stop.
Honestly, I'm sort of dying of sexual frustration. Not even in the "I want attention" way, but in the legitimately sexually frustrated kind of way. I haven't had sex in...3 months? Add that to the fact that I've had sex with only one man in the past 2 years--which is completely against my nature, by the way, but I had my reasons. So I'm a little stir-crazy in the sex department.
Off the top of my head, I can think of at least 3 people who'd coming running if I called them for a booty call. But I'm trying incredibly hard to resist the urge, just like I'm going to resist the urge to drink. I know it's only going to make me feel worse instead of better in the long run, but damn...it's hard.
Anyway, the upshot of the whole thing is that I'm trying desperately to correct some of my maladaptive coping behaviors. This isn't to say I'll never have another drink (I don't have the disposition to be a tee-totaler) or never have sex again (don't have the disposition for that, either). I'm just trying to learn to separate genuine desire for alcohol or sex from attempts to sublimate my problems. I want to be able to enjoy the things I enjoy in a healthy way.
In the meantime, I'm glad I have a lot of sex toys. >.<
Monday, February 14, 2011
On Alcohol
Mood: 0, about as level as I'll ever be
Meds: Around 10 am
Sleep: 7ish hours, approx. 2 am-9 am, had to wake up to see if my check had deposited, so I could pay the phone bill, so it wouldn't be turned off *eyeroll*
Other: Headache. Got my check today and paid my phone bill, so that's a worry off my shoulders. Nothing from the boy, but not surprised about that. Kitty (best friend/a whole host of other things) still not really saying much to me. No idea what I've done wrong with either of those two. Valentine's Day. Not sure if this makes me happy or sad. Love the holiday itself, but since all my relationships are up in the air, I have no one to share it with. Woke up with this song stuck inexplicably in my head. If I get sleepy before roomie wakes up, I may go nap for a couple hours. It's warm enough to go for a walk again today, like we did yesterday.
Today's post is about drinking. I should go ahead and say, first and foremost, that alcohol is my only vice as far as controlled substances go.
I make alcoholic jokes all the time, but I'm not. I never have been. I'll go months without drinking anything at all. Or I'll only have a drink or two occasionally with friends. I don't *need* to drink, so I'm fairly sure that exempts me from alcoholic status.
But--and you knew there was a "but"--I do tend to use it as my crutch when I get overwhelmed. My life is normally screwed up, but when it gets beyond my ability to deal with it (only happens maybe 3-4 times a year), I reach for the bottle.
Rum is usually my poison of choice. It's got all the lovely benefits of clear liquor, and it doesn't make me batshit the way vodka does. Whiskey is usually my other poison, but it doesn't get me drunk. It just makes me boneless until I fall asleep. I don't care for tequila or gin, and if you want to get drunk, there's no sense in wasting your time on beer (which I don't like, anyway), wine (most of which I don't like), wine coolers (most of which are too sweet for my tastes), or those sweet, girly dessert liqueurs. So rum it is.
I had one of those days on Friday. I woke up feeling like shit to start with, then I had one thing after another thrown at me until I was curled up in a ball, sobbing on the couch. My roommate took pity on me and dragged me out to eat with her last little bit of money. Then, we came home and drank. A lot.
See, the thing about my using alcohol as a crutch is not that I drink. If I were just having a drink or two to unwind, it wouldn't matter. No, when I feel that badly, the goal is to get completely drunk as fast as possible and sustain it until such time as I stumble into bed and fall asleep.
Even being drunk occasionally isn't bad. Nor is the number of times a year that I do it bad. (I was drunk far more often in college, but wasn't everyone?) The only real problem is that binge-drinking is my desperate attempt to make my life not suck, and, as we all know, it doesn't actually work.
I made the disheartening discovery Friday night that the only time I really like myself is when I'm drunk. It's not just because I forget my problems, either. It's not that they actually go away. It's just that when I can shut up that "you'll never be good enough for anybody or anything" voice, they don't seem like they're that big of a deal. I'm happy, uninhibited (which I never am sober), and generally at peace with the world.
After waking up feeling like shit on Saturday and remembering Friday night's little revelation, I realized I have to do something. I don't WANT to only like myself drunk. I want to like myself ALL the time. That was part of the reason I decided to start this blog, to try to help myself along with that lofty goal.
So for now, the bottle is staying far away from me. The fact that roomie and I killed most of the rum Friday night just makes it that much easier. I'm not supposed to drink on the Lamictal, anyway.
Learning to like myself sober is probably going to be the hardest thing in the world. But I feel like if I don't learn how to do it, all this other stuff I'm trying to do will be for naught.
I may post something again later today, an exercise from my DBT workbook or something. For now, though, I'm signing off. Adios.
Meds: Around 10 am
Sleep: 7ish hours, approx. 2 am-9 am, had to wake up to see if my check had deposited, so I could pay the phone bill, so it wouldn't be turned off *eyeroll*
Other: Headache. Got my check today and paid my phone bill, so that's a worry off my shoulders. Nothing from the boy, but not surprised about that. Kitty (best friend/a whole host of other things) still not really saying much to me. No idea what I've done wrong with either of those two. Valentine's Day. Not sure if this makes me happy or sad. Love the holiday itself, but since all my relationships are up in the air, I have no one to share it with. Woke up with this song stuck inexplicably in my head. If I get sleepy before roomie wakes up, I may go nap for a couple hours. It's warm enough to go for a walk again today, like we did yesterday.
Today's post is about drinking. I should go ahead and say, first and foremost, that alcohol is my only vice as far as controlled substances go.
I make alcoholic jokes all the time, but I'm not. I never have been. I'll go months without drinking anything at all. Or I'll only have a drink or two occasionally with friends. I don't *need* to drink, so I'm fairly sure that exempts me from alcoholic status.
But--and you knew there was a "but"--I do tend to use it as my crutch when I get overwhelmed. My life is normally screwed up, but when it gets beyond my ability to deal with it (only happens maybe 3-4 times a year), I reach for the bottle.
Rum is usually my poison of choice. It's got all the lovely benefits of clear liquor, and it doesn't make me batshit the way vodka does. Whiskey is usually my other poison, but it doesn't get me drunk. It just makes me boneless until I fall asleep. I don't care for tequila or gin, and if you want to get drunk, there's no sense in wasting your time on beer (which I don't like, anyway), wine (most of which I don't like), wine coolers (most of which are too sweet for my tastes), or those sweet, girly dessert liqueurs. So rum it is.
I had one of those days on Friday. I woke up feeling like shit to start with, then I had one thing after another thrown at me until I was curled up in a ball, sobbing on the couch. My roommate took pity on me and dragged me out to eat with her last little bit of money. Then, we came home and drank. A lot.
See, the thing about my using alcohol as a crutch is not that I drink. If I were just having a drink or two to unwind, it wouldn't matter. No, when I feel that badly, the goal is to get completely drunk as fast as possible and sustain it until such time as I stumble into bed and fall asleep.
Even being drunk occasionally isn't bad. Nor is the number of times a year that I do it bad. (I was drunk far more often in college, but wasn't everyone?) The only real problem is that binge-drinking is my desperate attempt to make my life not suck, and, as we all know, it doesn't actually work.
I made the disheartening discovery Friday night that the only time I really like myself is when I'm drunk. It's not just because I forget my problems, either. It's not that they actually go away. It's just that when I can shut up that "you'll never be good enough for anybody or anything" voice, they don't seem like they're that big of a deal. I'm happy, uninhibited (which I never am sober), and generally at peace with the world.
After waking up feeling like shit on Saturday and remembering Friday night's little revelation, I realized I have to do something. I don't WANT to only like myself drunk. I want to like myself ALL the time. That was part of the reason I decided to start this blog, to try to help myself along with that lofty goal.
So for now, the bottle is staying far away from me. The fact that roomie and I killed most of the rum Friday night just makes it that much easier. I'm not supposed to drink on the Lamictal, anyway.
Learning to like myself sober is probably going to be the hardest thing in the world. But I feel like if I don't learn how to do it, all this other stuff I'm trying to do will be for naught.
I may post something again later today, an exercise from my DBT workbook or something. For now, though, I'm signing off. Adios.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
The Good And The Bad
Mood: (Scale of 10 to -10, 0 being perfectly level) -2ish, down, but not to the point that it impairs my ability to function
Meds: Took around 11:30 am
Sleep: 7 or so hours; rudely interrupted by the neighbors around 10 am
Other: Kinda dehydrated. Tired. Still broke because my boss didn't pay me on time *again*. Grand total of 4 cents in the bank. Man I love still not speaking to me, and I still don't know why. Best friend still only giving me one-word responses when I try to talk to her. Still shocked that great-uncle has brain cancer, though he is doing better after the surgery to remove the tumor. My mother brought me my Valentine's Gift today, which was sweet. Also, Cee-Lo Green's performance on the Grammys was amazing, as was the Eminem and Dre performance, though I'm annoyed that Arcade Fire beat out Em for Album of the Year. Who the fuck is Arcade Fire, anyway?
I think I'm going to do the above rambling every day, even if I don't say anything else. It'll probably help me chart my mood.
Because I'm so exhausted, I don't think I'm capable of a fully thought-out blog post. So instead, I'm going to do a list of my good points and bad points and use it as a reference later to see if I've improved any. Then, I'll be taking my ass to bed.
The Good
~When I compare myself to other people who have my disorder to the extent that I have it (two words: paranoid delusions), I realize I'm far better off than most of them. Never been arrested, never gone bankrupt, never been married/divorced/pregnant, never been on government assistance, never been hospitalized for psychiatric problems, never been in any physical altercations, never attempted suicide, never self-injured, etc., etc., etc. Even though my life has always kinda been a mess, I've done pretty well for myself.
~My level of self-control is amazing. With all the shit that I have wrong with me mentally (and my crazy environment), I have basically held it together for 27 years without medication. That's some serious willpower.
~I'm loyal to those I care about, no matter what.
~The depths of my love for people is amazing and unconditional.
~I'm smart, not unattractive, and funny, at least to me.
~I'm passionate and never do things halfway, ever.
The Bad
~I'm crazy.
~I'm full of rage that simmers right beneath the surface and never really goes away.
~I'm hypersensitive about things.
~Because I'm crazy, full of rage, and hypersensitive, I fly into explosive rages pretty regularly, and I tend to take it out on the people I love the most.
~I have abandonment issues, commitment issues, never-feeling-good-enough issues, and an inability to set limits and boundaries.
Those are the only things I can think of off the top of my head, but I'm sure there are more. I intend to explore it more in-depth later, but I'm about to pass out currently. Luckily, at the bottom of the rabbit hole, there's a hutch waiting for me to crawl into. Night, all.
Meds: Took around 11:30 am
Sleep: 7 or so hours; rudely interrupted by the neighbors around 10 am
Other: Kinda dehydrated. Tired. Still broke because my boss didn't pay me on time *again*. Grand total of 4 cents in the bank. Man I love still not speaking to me, and I still don't know why. Best friend still only giving me one-word responses when I try to talk to her. Still shocked that great-uncle has brain cancer, though he is doing better after the surgery to remove the tumor. My mother brought me my Valentine's Gift today, which was sweet. Also, Cee-Lo Green's performance on the Grammys was amazing, as was the Eminem and Dre performance, though I'm annoyed that Arcade Fire beat out Em for Album of the Year. Who the fuck is Arcade Fire, anyway?
I think I'm going to do the above rambling every day, even if I don't say anything else. It'll probably help me chart my mood.
Because I'm so exhausted, I don't think I'm capable of a fully thought-out blog post. So instead, I'm going to do a list of my good points and bad points and use it as a reference later to see if I've improved any. Then, I'll be taking my ass to bed.
The Good
~When I compare myself to other people who have my disorder to the extent that I have it (two words: paranoid delusions), I realize I'm far better off than most of them. Never been arrested, never gone bankrupt, never been married/divorced/pregnant, never been on government assistance, never been hospitalized for psychiatric problems, never been in any physical altercations, never attempted suicide, never self-injured, etc., etc., etc. Even though my life has always kinda been a mess, I've done pretty well for myself.
~My level of self-control is amazing. With all the shit that I have wrong with me mentally (and my crazy environment), I have basically held it together for 27 years without medication. That's some serious willpower.
~I'm loyal to those I care about, no matter what.
~The depths of my love for people is amazing and unconditional.
~I'm smart, not unattractive, and funny, at least to me.
~I'm passionate and never do things halfway, ever.
The Bad
~I'm crazy.
~I'm full of rage that simmers right beneath the surface and never really goes away.
~I'm hypersensitive about things.
~Because I'm crazy, full of rage, and hypersensitive, I fly into explosive rages pretty regularly, and I tend to take it out on the people I love the most.
~I have abandonment issues, commitment issues, never-feeling-good-enough issues, and an inability to set limits and boundaries.
Those are the only things I can think of off the top of my head, but I'm sure there are more. I intend to explore it more in-depth later, but I'm about to pass out currently. Luckily, at the bottom of the rabbit hole, there's a hutch waiting for me to crawl into. Night, all.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Wanna Take A Trip Down The Rabbit Hole With Me?
Hola. Me llamo Bunny.
And that's about the extent of my command of the Spanglish language, ladies and gentlemen.
Anyway, I'm Bunny. I'm 27 years old. I have degrees in psychology and English, and I'm a freelance writer and marketer. All things considered, it shouldn't really be surprising that I decided to make a blog about being crazy, huh?
As I state in my profile over there to the right, I'm writing this blog for several reasons. First and foremost, it's to help myself sort out the problems I'm having by charting my mood, contributing factors to my mood, and my thoughts and feelings about particular things. The second reason is to help the people I care about realize what's going on in my head and hopefully learn not to take my psychodrama personally. Thirdly, I hope that if anyone else finds this blog, they'll find it useful, too. If I can help other people with mental illness and people who love those with mental illness, that would make me very happy indeed.
I've been diagnosed with Bipolar I and Social Anxiety Disorder. The social phobia diagnosis is older than the bipolar diagnosis, and given the fact that the bipolar medications seem to have helped considerably with my social phobia, I'm inclined to think that it's simply an outgrowth of the bipolar. I also suspect that I probably have more issues than just those things, but that speculation can wait 'til later.
Currently, I'm on 150 mgs. of generic Wellbutrin XL for the black, black depressions that I sometimes fall into. Despite the fact that Wellbutrin supposedly causes anxiety, it's helped my social anxiety problem immensely. There's research out there that says it's good for social phobia, but not for other anxiety problems; I'm just too lazy to dig it up. I've been on the Wellbutrin long enough that I don't really have any side effect issues, except the occasional fine tremor. They can take my Wellbutrin when they pry it from my cold, dead fingers.
I'm also on 100 mgs. of generic Lamictal as a mood stabilizer and neurological protector of sorts. (When I read that each time someone with bipolar cycles up or down, a part of their brain is destroyed, I knew I had to do *something*. Luckily, there's data out there that says anticonvulsants protect your brain against further damage and can possibly regrow damaged portions of gray matter.) It's generally accepted that Lamictal is better for bipolar depression than bipolar mania, but it's kept me on a fairly even keel since I got up to the 100 mg. dose. The Lamictal messes with my ability to speak and write correctly. I get tongue-tied a lot and often can't come up with the right words, and I forget what I was saying mid-sentence pretty regularly, too. I have issues using the correct words and spelling properly when I write as well, so if I screw up in the writing of this blog, forgive me. I'm not as enamored with Lamictal as I am with Wellbutrin, but it seems to be working, so I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I once thought I was rapid-cycling, but now that I'm stable, I realize my episodes last a lot longer than I believed in the past. I'm pretty sure I had a manic episode that lasted from sometime in the spring of 2010 until late January 2011. Well, it was mania until September 2010, when it turned into the ugliest mixed episode I ever experienced, which is what ultimately led to me seeking treatment in November 2010.
I was given Wellbutrin, which tipped me over into the first and only euphoric mania I've ever had. I rode it until it turned ugly and went back to the doctor in December 2010. I was slapped with the bipolar diagnosis and given the Lamictal then. More problems ensued until I hit the 100 mg. dosage, but it finally put a stop to the nearly year-long manic/mixed episode in January.
My roommate and I have decided that the long manic and mixed spells tend to make people think that it's actually my personality. So instead of other people thinking that certain things about me are a result of my illness, they tend to think I'm just an asshole. >.<
Because I'm self-employed, I don't have insurance, so I have neither psychiatrist nor therapist. My family doctor is the one who prescribes my meds.
For awhile, I believed that my medication would solve all my problems, but now I realize that that's not the case. I know I need therapy, but I don't have the money for it. I've dealt with the sliding-scale county mental health agency before, and I want no part of them again. I'm going to try to save money to attend some sessions with actual therapists, but in the interim, I spent my last $10 on a DBT workbook for my Kindle. (DBT was originally meant to treat Borderline Personality Disorder, but they've found that it has efficacy for other diseases as well. Besides, most people think borderline is a disease that sits on the bipolar spectrum, and I'm not entirely sure I don't have at least some borderline issues myself. So I think this will help.) I've already read it, but now I intend to work through it slowly. Part of the reason I opened this blog is to have a place where I can do the DBT exercises that I can easily access later when I'm in crisis mode and need to calm down.
Anyway, I've prattled on enough now. If you're at all interested at this point, I invite you on a journey down the rabbit hole with me. The trip may be a lot of things, but boring ain't one of 'em.
I'm Not Crazy; I'm Just A Little Unwell
And that's about the extent of my command of the Spanglish language, ladies and gentlemen.
Anyway, I'm Bunny. I'm 27 years old. I have degrees in psychology and English, and I'm a freelance writer and marketer. All things considered, it shouldn't really be surprising that I decided to make a blog about being crazy, huh?
As I state in my profile over there to the right, I'm writing this blog for several reasons. First and foremost, it's to help myself sort out the problems I'm having by charting my mood, contributing factors to my mood, and my thoughts and feelings about particular things. The second reason is to help the people I care about realize what's going on in my head and hopefully learn not to take my psychodrama personally. Thirdly, I hope that if anyone else finds this blog, they'll find it useful, too. If I can help other people with mental illness and people who love those with mental illness, that would make me very happy indeed.
I've been diagnosed with Bipolar I and Social Anxiety Disorder. The social phobia diagnosis is older than the bipolar diagnosis, and given the fact that the bipolar medications seem to have helped considerably with my social phobia, I'm inclined to think that it's simply an outgrowth of the bipolar. I also suspect that I probably have more issues than just those things, but that speculation can wait 'til later.
Currently, I'm on 150 mgs. of generic Wellbutrin XL for the black, black depressions that I sometimes fall into. Despite the fact that Wellbutrin supposedly causes anxiety, it's helped my social anxiety problem immensely. There's research out there that says it's good for social phobia, but not for other anxiety problems; I'm just too lazy to dig it up. I've been on the Wellbutrin long enough that I don't really have any side effect issues, except the occasional fine tremor. They can take my Wellbutrin when they pry it from my cold, dead fingers.
I'm also on 100 mgs. of generic Lamictal as a mood stabilizer and neurological protector of sorts. (When I read that each time someone with bipolar cycles up or down, a part of their brain is destroyed, I knew I had to do *something*. Luckily, there's data out there that says anticonvulsants protect your brain against further damage and can possibly regrow damaged portions of gray matter.) It's generally accepted that Lamictal is better for bipolar depression than bipolar mania, but it's kept me on a fairly even keel since I got up to the 100 mg. dose. The Lamictal messes with my ability to speak and write correctly. I get tongue-tied a lot and often can't come up with the right words, and I forget what I was saying mid-sentence pretty regularly, too. I have issues using the correct words and spelling properly when I write as well, so if I screw up in the writing of this blog, forgive me. I'm not as enamored with Lamictal as I am with Wellbutrin, but it seems to be working, so I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I once thought I was rapid-cycling, but now that I'm stable, I realize my episodes last a lot longer than I believed in the past. I'm pretty sure I had a manic episode that lasted from sometime in the spring of 2010 until late January 2011. Well, it was mania until September 2010, when it turned into the ugliest mixed episode I ever experienced, which is what ultimately led to me seeking treatment in November 2010.
I was given Wellbutrin, which tipped me over into the first and only euphoric mania I've ever had. I rode it until it turned ugly and went back to the doctor in December 2010. I was slapped with the bipolar diagnosis and given the Lamictal then. More problems ensued until I hit the 100 mg. dosage, but it finally put a stop to the nearly year-long manic/mixed episode in January.
My roommate and I have decided that the long manic and mixed spells tend to make people think that it's actually my personality. So instead of other people thinking that certain things about me are a result of my illness, they tend to think I'm just an asshole. >.<
Because I'm self-employed, I don't have insurance, so I have neither psychiatrist nor therapist. My family doctor is the one who prescribes my meds.
For awhile, I believed that my medication would solve all my problems, but now I realize that that's not the case. I know I need therapy, but I don't have the money for it. I've dealt with the sliding-scale county mental health agency before, and I want no part of them again. I'm going to try to save money to attend some sessions with actual therapists, but in the interim, I spent my last $10 on a DBT workbook for my Kindle. (DBT was originally meant to treat Borderline Personality Disorder, but they've found that it has efficacy for other diseases as well. Besides, most people think borderline is a disease that sits on the bipolar spectrum, and I'm not entirely sure I don't have at least some borderline issues myself. So I think this will help.) I've already read it, but now I intend to work through it slowly. Part of the reason I opened this blog is to have a place where I can do the DBT exercises that I can easily access later when I'm in crisis mode and need to calm down.
Anyway, I've prattled on enough now. If you're at all interested at this point, I invite you on a journey down the rabbit hole with me. The trip may be a lot of things, but boring ain't one of 'em.
I'm Not Crazy; I'm Just A Little Unwell
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