A Jumble of Words {Word Vomit}

A few weeks ago when I called my psychiatrist about the blood results for my lithium level, I got a call from my primary care doctor's office. Since I was fasting, I went ahead and had a full work-up done. The results were in. 

Once I heard "pre-diabetic" everything else sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher. I heard speaking but it was in the distance and being muffled by static.

How could I have let myself get to this stage? Oh that's right...for three years I was dealing with postpartum depression warping into Bipolar 2. Fun times.

During my last pregnancy, I only gained 30-35 pounds and I was in great shape prior. During my pregnancy I did yoga. I walked. I looked pretty good.

I popped him out right on time, rather quickly, and lost a good 20 pounds in a hurry. I was nursing so he was gobbling down my milk and I was burning calories like a mofo. Then the depression hit and so did the weight loss. I stopped trying. I honestly didn't care.

I do care now. I want to shed the weight and feel better. Looking good is a bonus.

Within days of receiving that phone call, I cut out complex carbs and when I do eat them, it's in extreme moderation or cooked from a recipe calling for specialty items such as low carb pasta (Dreamfields is amazing!).

Then I started working out again. I'm a Jillian Michaels fan all the way and so I started the 30 Day Shred program again along with yoga. I'm not doing "The Shred" daily (in fact Jillian herself recommends rest days, not to go go go for 30 straight days). On my "off days" I pull out my mat and get my yoga on. You know what? It feels spectacular. 20-30 minutes a day is not a lot to dedicate to this, it's just not!

But....(there has to be a but)...I'm afraid to step on the scale. I want to weigh in once a week but I haven't stepped on the scale since the initial time for my before weight. I know I've lost something because my clothes are loose, but the act of following through scares the shit out of me. 15-20 pounds lost will get me out of the pre-diabetic zone. 35-40 pounds lost will make me feel my best. I'm afraid I can't do it, like I can't keep up or something.

What are you eating? What's your workout plan? When do you workout? I want to know your deepest and darkest secrets....Please share!  

Chatting Sans Kids

No kids. It's been a while. A long while. The husband and I are driving to our destination when an ad plays on the radio for a nudist colony.

Me: Are they talking about a nudist colony?

Eric: Yep.

More talking on the radio...

Me: Did he just say they play sports?

Eric: I think so.

Me: Do they play in the nude?

Eric: I'm not sure. Probably.

Me: Do they wear shoes at least?

Eric: ?

Silence for a minute. Neither says it but we're both thinking, "What if they get hit in the balls with a ball?"

Me: There's probably a lot of nasties. What if one of 'em bends over? They're probably holding a bunch of shit cause they have no place to put it. Think of all the dropping that goes on. They gotta pick that shit up.

Laughing ensues from the both of us.

And this my friends is pretty much the norm when we're alone. Well, also when we're not alone. We get lots of eye rolling from the kids.

And I don't give the slightest fuck. O_o

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Secret Mommy-Hood Confession {Parenting a Teen Who Doesn't Care}

My oldest son is 17.

Does he have his license? A car? A girlfriend? A job? No. No. No. No.

In fact, he's not even allowed outside right now because of his grades. His father and I have come to accept that he'll never be a straight A student. Are we okay with that? Yes. In fact, Straight C's would make us swoon. The end of the semester is on 3/29. He waited until now to bring up a D and an F.

He had the gall to say to me, "There's nothing I can do to bring up my grades, it's too late!"

I actually laughed in his face. "Why did you wait until now to care?"

At first we only took away his going out Monday through Thursday. He was allowed to go out Friday through Sunday. Then I saw his grades (we have an online program with his school). I snatched the rest of the week away faster than be could say, "But mom!"

I thought parenting a toddler was hard. It's a piece of cake compared to this shit.

He turns 18 in October and has the immaturity of a 10 year old. It's sad.

He has no goals. No dreams. People, he was not raised like this!

The minute he was out of 6th grade everything went downhill.

The kicker? I have two more sons. A 13 and 3 year old.

Wicked screwed I am...

Crying Doesn't Necessarily = Sadness

I've been doing rather well medication and Bipolar-wise for a little while now. Last night, I lost control. My older boys were fighting and the toddler was screaming (my husband was unavailable at the time). Then it was time for bed, which is always a fight. Once the fit started being thrown by the 3-year-old, I lost it. I started crying. I was uncontrollable. My sobs were hefty and shook my body right down to my toes. I couldn't stop.

Eventually I got a hold of myself and put the baby to bed. As soon as my head hit my own pillow I heard his  sobs coming from across the house. I may have thrown a fit right there in bed before I went into his room to see that he was okay.

I wasn't sad, I was frustrated. I just wanted a smooth night. No yelling. No fighting to change a diaper. No going through the bazillion toys and stuffed animals to make sure they were where they were supposed to be.

I know this is a part of being a parent, that it comes with the territory. I'm quite positive I speak for many parents when I ask, can't we just get a break now and then?

A friend of mine posted the above picture. It speaks for so many of us and so I needed to share it.

How old are your kids? How do you deal with sibling rivalry? When it's late and you've simply had enough, what do you do?

The Good, The Bad & The Bipolar

I haven't posted in a while. I haven't had very much to say. Things have definitely been on the "up" but words tend to fail me these days. 

I met with my psychiatrist today. It was our follow-up appointment after I went and had blood drawn a week ago to check my Lithium levels and my thyroid (TSH) level. Everything is within the normal range. Ha! Who knew, right? Some good news for a change.

A friend of mine, who is in the hospital, was a little standoffish when it came to asking her doctor her diagnosis. I assured her it was completely normal to want to know. In fact, I told her she would be considered abnormal (to me) if she didn't want to know. I let her know it was my plan to ask my doctor if my diagnosis has changed any. And I did so today...

"In your opinion, what is my diagnosis?"

Without a bat of an eye, "Bipolar."

I looked down. Then I looked back up... "Thank you. Thank you for making me feel human again. And thank you for sticking with the diagnosis. Every other doctor I've seen wants to change it or add to it."

He smiled and I was on my way.

On the phone with my husband shortly after I was in tears. Firstly because my doctor cracked the code. I may still suffer some wicked side effects (headache, nausea, dizziness, loss of balance, memory loss)  but it's not every day, all day. Secondly because I came to a realization today when I walked back to my car after my appointment. Halfway there I stopped and said out loud, "I don't want to die today." And ladies and gentlemen...that? Is a far cry from where I was a month ago.

The only changes taking place is I am going back on a low dose of Klonopin twice a day in hopes that it takes away some of my anger issues. I have a lot of anger a lot of the time. The other change is I'm moving the time when I take the Lithium. Right now I take 600mg in the morning and 300mg at night. Tomorrow it will all shift to nighttime. The hope here is most of the side effects will be slept off.

That's all I have for this moment. Hopefully the part of my brain that likes to read and write will come back soon. I miss all of you so much.

xoxox

That's Life

The average person's life is filled with chaos.

There's always going to be shit we don't want to do, but we do it anyway because....that's life.

When you live with a mental illness, you're no longer just an average Joe.

My mental illness keeps my mind racing every second of every day.

Does that also happen with the average person? Of course it does. I miss the days of worrying about how I was going to get it all done and still have some family and/or me time left over.

My head is still clouded over with these thoughts but for me, there's a chance for rain everyday. Some days, there are tornado warnings and even tidal waves.

I've never wanted a miracle more in my life then I do right now. Is it selfish that I wish it for myself instead of another? Possibly. The thing is, I don't want it just for myself. Through the powers of blogging and social media, I have met many others who suffer with mental illness just as I do. We share a commonality. We understand each other.

I hate that I know a woman who is giving up extended nursing so her doctor can more aggressively combat her depression.

I hate that I know several people who get a different diagnosis each time they visit with a new doctor.

I hate the side-effects of the endless amounts of drugs available.

I hate that for many of us, our bad days far outweigh the good ones.

I hate that some of us go to the extreme to get better and end up in a worsened state. 

If I could reach out to those of you who don't have a mental illness and shake you a little, I would do just that. We require a bit more patience and attention. Hell, some days are throw down wars with ourselves and we bring you into battle with us without asking first. We don't mean for that to happen, but it's appreciated.

Pinterest

Life is hard.

I can't honestly tell you the amount of times a day the thought that the people in my life would be better off without me runs through my head. Too many to count.

There's really no specific point to this post. I guess I just wanted my cloudy day to have a peak of sun. Maybe even a rainbow.

A Four Minute Workout - I'm IN!

I found this on Pinterest today. I'm so in. Who's with me?

And for those of us who need a visual:

I've put this working out thing on hold for far too long. This with Yoga several times per week will have me feeling great in no time flat.

Too Brain-Dead to Come up with a Title

"Do you just cringe when you come out to get me?" I asked my psychiatrist this morning.

I asked him this because I was there, in his office, less than a week ago for my hospital follow up. I called this morning practically begging for him to see me.

"No. You're a challenge. I enjoy our visits." He replied.

"Let's make them less often starting today, shall we?" I said. 

In short:

• Headaches
• Dizziness
• No focus
• My brain feels like it's on fire (which should subside within the week, due to the muscle relaxer during ECT)
• My reflexes suck
• I'm scared to drive
• Everything I used to do with ease now proposes a challenge, I burned myself pretty badly last night while cooking even

And so the list goes on....

As of today? 18 Medications in 3 short years. 18. That's a lot to me. A hell of a lot. This new round of drugs will include regular blood draws.

What do I want the most? I want to have joy in living again. I want to wake up and look forward to something. 

I want a diagnosis that sticks. Not a maybe.

Dammit...I want to want to live. That doesn't seem like too much to ask for.

Mind-Fucked

This morning I forgot what time I was supposed to wake up to have enough time to get ready for work. Needless to day, I ended up not being able to shower today. I had my alarm set and everything; I just kept snoozing it thinking I had all the time in the world.

Now I'm at work, still trying to get caught up from all the time I missed, and I'm screwing up all over the place. I used to be able to put on a smile and fake it until I made it but now I'm hurting so horribly I don't know whether I'm coming or going.

I want to think I did the right thing by going the ECT route and that things will eventually even out. But why would it, you know? For the past three years I've been continuously mind-fucked, why would it turn around for me now?

Electroconvulsive Therapy

Many of you know I checked into the hospital February 11th for Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT). My first treatment didn't take place until the 15th. Bloodwork had to be drawn, an EKG completed, a physical performed, a video watched and two psychiatrists had to give their referral on top of my insurance company approving the procedures. It was a long several days but I ended up getting approved for six. Four were performed inpatient and two as outpatient.

A lot of people have been asking me how ECT works, as in, what takes place.

The hospital I stayed at had a van transport those of us to the actual facility the ECT was to occur. We left at approximately 5am. The night before, certain medications weren't allowed to be taken and of course, no food/drink after midnight. Upon arrival, we were led to a large room filled with beds, separated by curtains. Each bed had a board over it with your name and photo. I removed my shoes and sweater and climbed into bed, no gown was necessary.

Next, I was connected to a blood pressure cuff and an IV. The doctor arrived at 6am and since I was the newbie, I was first, and strangely excited. I was given a muscle relaxer through my IV first, then I was put out with an anesthetic after a bite guard was placed into my mouth.

In the center of the room, the ECT machine was plugged into the ceiling and on wheels making for easy access to each of the beds.

I received unilateral treatment (treatment to just one side of my head). Some received bilateral. Unilateral is preferred as it lessens the chance of memory loss, headache, etc. I had some minor aches and pains the day after my first treatment. Treatment was performed Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I began on a Wednesday and went home after my fourth treatment. I came back the next Friday for my fifth and Monday for my sixth treatments. 

I began to feel something happening after my second ECT but sadly, it only lasted through the fourth treatment.

As of today my mind is a jumbled mess and I feel quite disconnected from my body, like an ongoing out of body experience.

I don't know if this is going to settle down and clear up or if it's here to stay.

I had a follow up appointment with my psychiatrist yesterday and he seemed upset with the new medications I was placed on and unsure of what to say to me. In one week I am having blood drawn to check the levels of my new meds, my doctor seems to think the levels I'm on are not therapeutic. At the end of March, I am seeing the director of psychiatry for a third opinion. The psychiatrist I saw in the hospital added OCD and Borderline Personality Disorder to my laundry list of diagnoses.

Would I do it over again knowing what I know now? I'm honestly not sure. Something had to happen but was this honestly the right thing?

Please feel free to ask me any questions. I'm sure I'm leaving things out or there are things you're wondering about. I'm more than happy to answer anything on your mind.