September 2005

9-27
Last night was a hard night- fighting everything. Today is a new day and a bit clearer. I met with my boss briefly to go over a few things like Julia...and set another meeting for Sat. morning to discuss the supervision thing. My rat rocked tonight and is doing just fine, learning how to put a ball in a dish. I have Latin tomorrow and an exam Friday and I just don't know how I will pass. So behind, so afraid (panic attacks)...but ya know...I just keep thinking: a D will pass me. Surely I can manage a frickin' D.

I think I'm looking for finality. That things are done. And when you always have so much going on...that is hard to come by. And...positive reinforcement is rough for me- at times I'm just not getting it.

Balance is so hard. To know that most college students can pull an all nighter here and there...and I can't. If I don't take Seroquel now, I do feel off. So that means 8 hours...every night. That's just...hard. Weighing my options sometimes- do I not take those meds, and get all my work done. Or take them, and hope I can wake up early enough to finish the work...or just not do it.

Sometimes I really hate making that choice. Sometimes I hate the fact that I have to make that kind of choice. And sometimes I think I wish...I didn't want to do everything I want to do. Like why can't I take a backseat and chill.

Instead, I started a mental health club on campus when none existed because it was needed. I became a committee member for the ADA (American's with Disabilities Act) on campus because it's important and close to my heart. I took a class to train this rat because I wanted to learn more about ABA (applied behavior analysis, the therapy I do) and that is so time intensive. I work extremely hard on every one of my kids programs...because it's not just a therapy program- it's their life. I take a class an hour away once a week because it will help me be a better therapist and supervisor. I run a support group and website because people needed a place to go to be cared for and supported...where there was no support.

Everything just seems...so important. I care about those things and I don't know how I could have not done all of those things. Yet, I pay a very high price for it. I have to make those hard choices and take on the responsibility of making sure I stay well.

The choice was mine, and I made it. I guess sometimes it is hard living with the consequences. But when so much good comes out of it...what are you going to do?

I am not nowhere. I am somewhere...somewhere on my journey and right now it's just a high price I am paying for doing the things I care about. But I still choose it at the end of the day.

9-26
So tonight I wondered...what is my positive reinforcement? I am a pretty strict behavorist, as psychological theories go. I deal with positive reinforcement for most of my day. But today, as I sat trying not to puke up my meds...what is my positive reinforcement?

Positive reinforcement as some of you may know is something that you add/give that will increase the likelyhood of a behavior.

Well...as I was thinking about the three exams I have, a double quiz, plus double reading (for a missed class), HW for classes, my club responsibilities, ada (american disability act) comittee responsibilities, the five children I work with and the stress with the company I work for...and I just wonder, where my reinforcement for doing good work is?

My boss and I had a chat weeks ago about what I could be doing better. Well, I fixed it and then some and am aceing everything for once and doing an awesome job...and yet I can't get a hold of this woman for the life of me to do some of the stuff she said I wasn't so good at. Meaning, I have my kids all set for update meetings, and she can't be found. Yippee...soooo glad I worked my ass off to correct my short-comings...and now I a m hanging in midair, as is my kids programs. She's practically forcing me to go back to my lone cowboy ways...but I'm not, I'm waiting it out....and this all just fucking sucks. You all don't know what I really mean cuz you don't know how it works....but I'm ranting and trust me...I'm doing everything right for once...and for nothing.

I finally plan a vacation for myself- didn't take one all summer. Four days before vacation I get strep throat and a 102 temperature that lasts for three of those days. I get a C on a test I should have gotten an A on had I been able to study. I missed Latin which already gives me a panic attack and a quiz. I miss out on therapy with the kids, which they were already going to miss some since I'm going out of town. Great fucking vacation.

I have been rock solid on my pills and taking them and so fucking consistent. Tonight I had to hold my mouth shut and hold my stomach so I wouldn't puke. Capsules still remain the enemy and my body still wants to reject Lithium. I'm still sick sitting here writing this praying, praying so hard I do not puke them up.

I've gone from seldom taking Xanax...to taking it every day and realizing it is helping. Which means my anxiety must be through the roof.

I am taking Concerta and Ritalin more regularly...I am super focused on my work...the problem? There are not enough hours in the day to really finish it all and still sleep 8 hours. Yet, if I don't sleep eight hours and take all the Seroquel, I'm a basket case.

I started my day working with a kid at 7:30am...and did not quit until now (11pm). And every minute was productive. And I'm still not done with work.

So I was thinking...hmmm what could I reinforce myself with to keep on going. And I came up with nothing. Vacation I have learned sucks. So I don't want to take one. Two of my best friends are either too many hours away or in a different state.

My mom has not called me since she hung up on me. So no contact with the brothers right now.

My rat lost much of what it learned....so more hours with him just working. So now it's like work.

Julia is falling behind in school and now I need to work my ass off to make sure that doesn't happen. And today...she asked me..."why do I have therapy?" And her parents were out of town and I have not recieved the green light to let her know she has autism. So that was fun to try and answer. I worry much right now about her.

So...if I do all this work...if I actually pull off this week and the weeks to come...what? So I get some grades that lead to graduation. Maybe my boss finally picks up her fucking phone or emails me. Maybe I get my club shit done. Maybe my kids rock this week. Maybe my body will not reject the very medication that make my life possible.

But at this moment, I'm just thinking all my positive reinforcers have been turned against me. And I keep getting negatively reinforced for good things. That is not good.

I know I take on too much...I hear that CONSTANTLY. But I just wonder...as a tear slips down...why won't anyone ever just support me? Do they have to tell me I take on too much or that I'm super woman, or roll their eyes at my accomplishments. Do they have to worry that I took on too much?

Can anyone out there just support me? Not give me advice I don't need. Not tell me shit I do already know. But just support. I know I have more to do than I have time...but I'll get done somehow. I just want...

That is the problem...I don't know what I want anymore. And it seems like no one wants to support me...only worry, try advice, or complain I do too much.

There....there's my rant. I don't know what else to say.

Every time I think about
back home
It's cool and breezy
I wish that I could be there
right now
Just passing time.

Everybody seems to wonder
What it's like down here
I gotta get away
from this day-to-day
running around,
Everybody knows
this is nowhere.
- Dar Williams, Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere

These are the days I miss Bobb. A smile would be nice now. Or some wise word that would some how get me to get all of this done. Or really, what could she say? Eating, sleeping, excersing...relaxing. I need something right now...and I don't know what that is. Maybe that is why I miss her. She always knew what that was.

Time for sleep, up early to finish the homework and begin another day that is going to be terribly long. Please...God if you are ever listening...I need something now. You had me terribly ill before a vacaction- losing contact with my mom over that, and then missing so many days of school and work on top of what I was taking off...and I don't know why. Please....please....please.

*UPDATE: After writing this and talking to a friend...no joke, this song- When I Get It Right by Joan Armatrading comes one, with the lyrics:

Hey when I get it right
Will you tell me please
I wanna know, I gotta know, I wanna know

You always say no
You don't mean yes
No way
Hold out
Turn around
Two refusals
Deaf ear
Turned here
Not want
Leave room
All fault here
Shake head
Drop dead

Hey when I get it right
Will you tell me please
I wanna know, I gotta know, I wanna know
-Joan Armatrading, When I Get It Right

Now I'm glad that was on a special CD, a special person gave me. I smiled. That is a big accomplishment tonight.

9-21
So my mom had surgery yesterday on her female parts, so she can no longer have kids, but she was past the child bearing age anyway. So I called after she had it to check on her (yesterday) but she was sleeping but i thught I was being a good daughter, so I call today. As soon as she gets on the phone she is hostile tone, so I try to play it light and I tell her I'm sick and my fever and all she keeps saying (at least five different times) is "why did you take amoxicillian."

So she kept saying that, cuz she had told me like a while ago last time i was sick that it would come back if i took Amoxicillian. But, I told her, I decided to try it again, cuz it worked last time so then again she just stated the same thing and i was like, mom you are not listening to me.

I could not go by what happens with nick (my bro) cuz he's a kid and a boy and a different body...I went on how it affected me last time (it got rid of it). So finally she goes, you know what, have a good visit (to my dad's tomorrow), goodbye, and she hangs up on me.

So we are through. The last time she talked like that was pretty much over a year ago when I sat in the hospital after suicide. I thought she had changed, but I must be mistaken. For her to be that cold again. I can't keep doing that. It hurts too much, and I will not let my heart get broken again and again.

I will find a way to be there for my two brothers- give them my phone number, and have them call me or I'll just call the house and ask to speak to them, and not ask for my mom. I can't do it anymore. My heart can only take so much.

As I told Bobb once, this is where my true pain lies. And I cannot keep getting my heart broken. I have to draw the line somewhere. All she needed to say was, well now you've learned, don't take Amoxicillian, or sorry you had to learn that the hard way. But no, she kept asking me why I would take that when SHE had told me it would come back. It was ridiculous the way she was.

And that is why I'm through. She also didn't want me flying- she told me that in the harshest tone. I fly to see my Dad with Ted tomorrow. I don't know if that had anything to do with it. But geez. I give in...I'm done trying to change her. I will be there for my brothers in every way possible...but I can't take her anymore. I need to protect myself and my heart at some point.

The tears come easy tonight. As my body lays in pain of two days with 102 degree temperatures and body aches...to my heart breaking yet again. I have little fight left in me.

Night.

9-7
I have a doctors appointment for Friday, to discuss my medications and if changes need to be made. But I also realize other things. I never get depressed just for depressions sake, even with manic depression. I was eating pretty well (though now its forced, I have no appetite), and I was sleeping well, until the night mares began, and I have had to up my dose of Seroquel to keep my asleep. But still, I don't excercise near enough.

And Sam pointed out- I NEED to start relaxing. That needs to be number one. I teach the children I do therapy with relaxation techniques, so perhaps it's time I let down that defense wall and begin to research this for myself. I am going to get stressed, that's my life...so I need to make sure I have an out...a way to chill.

I'm beginning to make a plan of action again. And I know I need to start kicking my ass harder. I know I will never go back to the way I was- I have no thoughts of harming msyelf or killing myself, so that is good. Mainly, I can tell I'm depressed by my flat affect, I'm not getting joy out of the things I used to and even though I am taking Ritalin or Concerta, I still cannot concentrate on my studies. Furthermore, my anxiety has skyrocketed through the roof.

But I will not let depression over take me. There are things I can do to pull myself out of this...and you get bet your ass I am going to begin to do them. I lived a long time in depression or close to it and hanging around the line of death...and I will never go back to that state, or allow myself to get comfortable in a depressive state. I know what it's like to be happy now, and I will return to that. I can fight my disorder.

I have been going through my rants and also my private rants not on here to see if I can pinpoint what the hell happened...and I think I'm getting a pattern down. So, just need to fix that up, get a plan of action going and do the healthy things I know I need to be doing.

Oh...and listen to the music. I let that go a little bit...but music is my oxygen- it is something I need. That is my relaxation. I need to hit up some more shows in town and around town and keep the music going. And I need to chill. I have solvable problems...there may be obstacles in the way...but I can find another way around them. I don't let Julia say "can't" so that means I'm not going to say it either.

Everything was being all or nothing to me again- when my plate gets too full. But...I know differently and I just need to step back and re assess everything. I do love life and living in it...I'm reminded of that every day as I look into the eyes of the children I work with. And I was just reading a passage in a private rant where I said I was happy and it was such a great feeling. I will return to that feeling.

Today I was able to see someone who has a calming effect on me. In the weirdest of ways, I just need to get a hug from her or say hello, and somehow I know everything will be okay. She gave me the tools to live in this world in a healthy way, and in a way helped create the world in which I live in today. She has always believed in me and my ability to be well and do good in this world...and that belief has always fueled me on. Until the day came that her belief was my belief in myself.

I made a promise to her once to be well...and today I realized that I not only made that promise to her, but I made that promise to myself. I like that.

Well, I've thoroughly screwed up my sleep for the first time in three weeks...trying to do my Latin hw...it's rough. So I accept that tomorrow I may be a little off, but I've promised myself to get back to schedule tomorrow night and I know I will keep that promise.

This is the most rational depresion I have ever been in. I know I feel crappy, and I just know hte feeling of depression...and I know what is wrong: lack of relaxation techniques, lack of excercise and finally my still deep issues on intimacy. Oh...and everything that I have to do which is too much...and how poor I am.

Tomorrow is a new day...and a new beginning. I found peace at one point this summer and I will find it again. I will never forget that life is sweet...and so much more.

9-5
My body begins to ready itself. I stop the gagging reflexes. I grab the pills, count out three. I swallow them at once. My body instantly begins to gag and I hold my stomach in an attempt to keep them down. A minute passes and I know it’ll be okay.

After moments like these I wonder why me? For the rest of my life? And I’ll still have mood shifts? I may need more meds? I ask again, why me?

I’m 22 years old and I have the rest of my life to choke down these pills. It is not a choice I have anymore, but a necessity to living. I must also deal with the side effects of these pills, other than my body attempting to reject them. I once wrote with ease, poems could freely flow and I always had the right words. Now I go days vainly trying to write how I feel and nothing sounds right. Lithium has taken the edge off my creativity and I can no longer write in the way I’m used to. Writing used to be a coping mechanism and now it’s lost, so again my coping mechanisms must grow and change.

For the first time in my life, I’m seeing what a mood change is like when I’m healthy. I’ve graduated from therapy and moved on with my life. The abuse of my past no longer haunts me, at least not to the degree that I need therapy every week. I am considered well by friends, mentors and mental health professionals. And yet, I sit here on a Monday night, upping my dose of Seroquel even further so that I may sleep more than a few hours, and perhaps the nightmares will cease. I sit here knowing I’m depressed. But this time I know it’s not because of the abuse of the past and having to combat against that. Instead, I’m faced with immense stress and for once I see how manic depression intensifies everything. I don’t just get a little stressed and feel a little “blah,” but I get a lot stressed and feel actually depressed. Just like two months ago- I didn’t get a little high and excited, but I got a lot excited and faced consequences. Now I feel like I've emerged from a fog, and I'm trying to figure out what is around me and what is real or an illusion. Where's that damn maglite?

I may not be in the crisis mode that I once lived my life in, but I still fall prey to this mood madness. The twisted and sick joke of my abused life is that I couldn’t just heal from that and be fine, but I have manic depression so I will never be fine in the sense that a non-afflicted person would be fine. When I’m done healing from abuse, I have to begin to keep my bipolar in check. And know that when I’m stressed- it means so much more than when a non-afflicted person gets stressed. I need to doubly take care of myself and remember to find relaxing things to do.

The abuse was something external that happened to me- though I internalized much of what happened…it was still something external. This manic depression…that’s internal. It’s IN me. And I always wonder how you fight something that is coming from within you.

I know I will be having this battle more in the future and I have to make sure that I don’t see it as never-ending. Because the fact remains that I will get just a little better each time, and maybe at some point the battle will be hardly any work- I’ll win easily. I can still have a happy and healthy life. I just have to fight a little harder to attain that.

I want to give in, and I want to stay on a level playing field- but sadly that is not in the cards. And that is why I look at those bottles of pills and take the doses. It’s why I prepare my body to not reject the pills and stop the gag reflex after I swallow the pills. I won’t let bipolar take me- a happy and healthy life will be mine, even if that means I have to work harder, be more vigilant and just generally have to do more than someone who is not afflicted. In the end, I know it will be worth it…and because I experience life so much more intensely, my life will be far more richer.

You also have trouble sleeping wtih manic depression, so you take your sleep med before you begin to write, and the next thing you know, the words won't come and you can't type the words you are thinking of. This being said, now, I’m done because my sleep medication has kicked in.

Pharmaceutical wonders are at work
but I believe only in this moment
of well being. Unholy ghost,
you are certain to come again.

Coarse, mean, you'll put your feet
on the coffee table, lean back,
and turn me into someone who can't take the trouble to speak; someone
who can't sleep, or who does nothing
but sleep; can't read, or call
for an appointment for help.

There is nothing I can do
against your coming.

When I awake, I am still with thee.
Credo- Jane Kenyon

9-5
I tired to find some cool quote or great song lyric to depict the feeling...but in the end only one word fit.

So here is my question. Even though I am on a good cocktail of meds (Lithium, seroquel, concerta, ritalin, and xanax)...I can still fall prey to depression?

And if so...how do I get myself out of it? I am out of therapy, and pretty healthy, so I know I'm not in too much danger of myself. But how do you beat a depression that won't be solved in a therapy room.

I've never had this kind of depression...so for the first time in well over a year...I am lost. I'm calling this my "well" depression. And I don't know what to do about it? Meds? Therapy again? What?

Definitely seeking answers. I won't let this Bipolar get me- I won't. I've come too far...and yet it always finds a way to seep its way into my life. There's got to be a way..