Today I am still fighting illness. I'm hurting and feel overwhelmed. I have been fighting this illness for more than a week now and am tired. I feel overwhelmed because there is so much to do in the house to get it ready to sell.
Tomorrow part of our upstairs bathroom floor is being taken up to fix a leak. The large claw-foot tub and toilet will be removed ready for new flooring. Before the flooring goes in I need to paint and put up a photo wall mural of a view of Santorini Greece. I know that it will be gorgeous in the end and I need to remember that only so much can be done in a day. My daughter and her fiance will be here to help, my husband and a good friend who does house repairs. I shouldn't feel that it is all on my shoulders, but I am the one who has to live in it for now.
Due to the length of this illness, something I have never had before and so far having been given three different diagnoses and feeling overwhelmed does not help my frame of mind. I have a fear of the unknown. I'm worried about the possibility of going into the hospital and not being able to take my supplements. I called my psychiatrist's office and asked him to write something up in case of emergency, but was told that he really couldn't do that. What I am doing in reducing medications is pretty much on my own. If for whatever reason I end up in the hospital, I will need to have my medications at dosages that can easily be dispensed. My psychiatrist said that If that were to happen the hospital could give him a call and he would tell them about the supplements. I can't afford to go backwards.
Over the past two years I have lost 65 pounds and have been very healthy. I'm diabetic and that is completely under control. My cholesterol, triglycerides and everything taken in a CBC are all at healthy levels. I usually go to the Y every day but haven't gone for well over a week. I hope this illness goes away soon.
Otherwise, I have been doing well on the supplements. I'm still amazed that I have been able to reduce my meds with very few noticable side effects. The side effects that I have had have been feeling sluggish, slight anxiety and feeling like there is lead coursing through my veins.
This is not very exciting, just fulfilling my committment to recording my progress. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. Have a good day
A year of living like college students. Basically like living on nothing.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Dreaming Again
Yesterday I did another med reduction! It is amazing to me. Yesterday I felt pretty good until about 4:30 p.m. when I began experiencing some increasing anxiety. I called my nutritional counselor in patient support and let her know this. My brain is getting the nutrients it needs to function and my meds are causing an adverse reaction. So I reduced again. My body feels as if toxins are oozing out of my muscles and organs and seeping into my bloodstream. That is the "lead" feeling I talk about. A strange sensation.
I'm going to give my original dosage and my current dosage of medications because now there is quite a difference. Wellbutrin has gone down from 300mg to 225mg; Clonazapam from 2mg to .75mg; Lamictal: 300 to 150; Effexor: 225 to 168.75; and Geodon 240 to 180. With no adverse effects. My responses to the 16 symptomatic questions remain at zero to three. The counselor told me that for me, three is my high, and I can handle that. She told me that some people have 37 symptoms charted so I am lucky.
Today I was in the emergency room for the pain associated with my infection. Looks like the infection itself is gone, now I have pain of inflamation. I have been given Codine and an anti inflamatory. Now that I am going off of my medications, I feel so aware of new prescriptions that I really don't want to take this. I want to be well and sometimes you need drugs to help, but seeing that I can one day be off of my drugs and have a life again... I'm feeling out of the loop of, "well, we'll increase this dosage and try this new drug..have you ever been on ______ before? We'll try that. If that doesn't work...well, let's just see." I am now tired of being infused with these mind altering drugs and I haven't done a nose dive. Not that there isn't one waiting for me in the future.. but for now.. I'm good.
I will call my counselor again on Monday and will probably reduce again on Tuesday. I expected this to take months, not weeks. It is taking longer in my case due to the fact that I am on so many meds and two of them for at least ten years. I will call my doctor on Monday to let him know how I am doing.
In a recent blog I mentioned the fact that I have goals. Being in and out of a psych unit is not where I wanted to be when I grew up. I have taken flying lessons, and I decided I was going to really take it on and become a pilot. I paid for everything I needed for the full course, workbooks, flight log, instructions, you name it. Then I was told that before I could be certified I would need to have a physical. So I called the doctor that the flight school recommended. I was on just as many meds, but some were different at the time. He asked me what medications I was taking. I read him the list. His response, "I couldn't allow you to fly while on any of the medications you're taking." Talk about being shot down out of the sky. And there it sat, crumpled on the ground my 'dream' of being a pilot. But then I never dreamt I could ever go off of these drugs either. I am beginning to dream again.
I'm going to give my original dosage and my current dosage of medications because now there is quite a difference. Wellbutrin has gone down from 300mg to 225mg; Clonazapam from 2mg to .75mg; Lamictal: 300 to 150; Effexor: 225 to 168.75; and Geodon 240 to 180. With no adverse effects. My responses to the 16 symptomatic questions remain at zero to three. The counselor told me that for me, three is my high, and I can handle that. She told me that some people have 37 symptoms charted so I am lucky.
Today I was in the emergency room for the pain associated with my infection. Looks like the infection itself is gone, now I have pain of inflamation. I have been given Codine and an anti inflamatory. Now that I am going off of my medications, I feel so aware of new prescriptions that I really don't want to take this. I want to be well and sometimes you need drugs to help, but seeing that I can one day be off of my drugs and have a life again... I'm feeling out of the loop of, "well, we'll increase this dosage and try this new drug..have you ever been on ______ before? We'll try that. If that doesn't work...well, let's just see." I am now tired of being infused with these mind altering drugs and I haven't done a nose dive. Not that there isn't one waiting for me in the future.. but for now.. I'm good.
I will call my counselor again on Monday and will probably reduce again on Tuesday. I expected this to take months, not weeks. It is taking longer in my case due to the fact that I am on so many meds and two of them for at least ten years. I will call my doctor on Monday to let him know how I am doing.
In a recent blog I mentioned the fact that I have goals. Being in and out of a psych unit is not where I wanted to be when I grew up. I have taken flying lessons, and I decided I was going to really take it on and become a pilot. I paid for everything I needed for the full course, workbooks, flight log, instructions, you name it. Then I was told that before I could be certified I would need to have a physical. So I called the doctor that the flight school recommended. I was on just as many meds, but some were different at the time. He asked me what medications I was taking. I read him the list. His response, "I couldn't allow you to fly while on any of the medications you're taking." Talk about being shot down out of the sky. And there it sat, crumpled on the ground my 'dream' of being a pilot. But then I never dreamt I could ever go off of these drugs either. I am beginning to dream again.
Friday, January 29, 2010
One Grain at a Time
Did you ever see the film, Shawshenk Redemption where an innocent man goes to prison? Well I'm going to ruin the ending for you if you haven't. He goes through hell but escapes using a tiny hammer hidden in his Bible. He digs his way out day after day, bit by bit and puts all of the gravel he chips away into his pockets and spreads it around the yard. He escapes through a sewage pipe. Imagine the stench and vile stuff he had to crawl through to get out.
I talked with my psychologist yesterday, another phone visit, just too ill to drive, and compared Shawshenk Redemption to the process of transitioning. I've been through hell and am ready to do whatever it takes to escape. To reduce my Effexor, I open a capsule and count out so many "beads." It is tedious, so when I do that I have prepared several days' worth in advance and put them in my pill dispenser. My psychiatrist told me about counting out the beads before I was instructed on how to do this. He thought it to be outlandish. I think it is very much like chipping away at a wall a grain of sand at a time. And to get to the other side I am willing to keep chipping.
There will be a day not too distant where this treatment will be more streamlined. It will be easier to titrate, or better yet the medications will not be needed because the answer will be in treating the cause so the symptoms can be controlled early on.
Talking with my doctor, I mentioned that one day last week I was having racing thoughts, and felt like I was sliding into a manic episode. I was moving too quickly. I stopped, picked up a book catalog, went into the living room and sat and read the catalog. This centered me and gradually the manic feeling and racing thoughts came to an end. She pointed out that that was a major step especially for me, who, when going into a manic episode become so much a part of the symptoms, they are reality for me that I cannot step back and see these things as just symptoms. So to be able to recognize that the racing thoughts were just that, I was able to implement a healthy distraction behavior and ended the episode before it was more manifest. I have never been able to do that. This was HUGE for me.
So far, she has seen many indicating factors that this is going in the right direction. I have been using my dialectical behavioral coping skills and have been able to stay out of panic mode with distress tolerance. I have not even had to resort to opening the "first-aid kit." It is so wonderful to have an alternative to psych medication. It is a long road. It is going more quickly than I thought it would, I am surprised at the amount of medication that I have reduced. This would have been terrifying if it were not with the added vitamins and minerals. I truly feel that this is working. My psychologist is watching closely as this is still breakthrough and has not had a patient try this. This is also new to my psychiatrist. I am his guinea pig. He has recommended it as a possibility to another patient. I only know this because the patient is a friend of mine and she told me.
It is a long road, and I don't know how I will be from day to day, thus the purpose of this blog. Whoever is reading this will go along with me for the ride, one grain at a time.
I talked with my psychologist yesterday, another phone visit, just too ill to drive, and compared Shawshenk Redemption to the process of transitioning. I've been through hell and am ready to do whatever it takes to escape. To reduce my Effexor, I open a capsule and count out so many "beads." It is tedious, so when I do that I have prepared several days' worth in advance and put them in my pill dispenser. My psychiatrist told me about counting out the beads before I was instructed on how to do this. He thought it to be outlandish. I think it is very much like chipping away at a wall a grain of sand at a time. And to get to the other side I am willing to keep chipping.
There will be a day not too distant where this treatment will be more streamlined. It will be easier to titrate, or better yet the medications will not be needed because the answer will be in treating the cause so the symptoms can be controlled early on.
Talking with my doctor, I mentioned that one day last week I was having racing thoughts, and felt like I was sliding into a manic episode. I was moving too quickly. I stopped, picked up a book catalog, went into the living room and sat and read the catalog. This centered me and gradually the manic feeling and racing thoughts came to an end. She pointed out that that was a major step especially for me, who, when going into a manic episode become so much a part of the symptoms, they are reality for me that I cannot step back and see these things as just symptoms. So to be able to recognize that the racing thoughts were just that, I was able to implement a healthy distraction behavior and ended the episode before it was more manifest. I have never been able to do that. This was HUGE for me.
So far, she has seen many indicating factors that this is going in the right direction. I have been using my dialectical behavioral coping skills and have been able to stay out of panic mode with distress tolerance. I have not even had to resort to opening the "first-aid kit." It is so wonderful to have an alternative to psych medication. It is a long road. It is going more quickly than I thought it would, I am surprised at the amount of medication that I have reduced. This would have been terrifying if it were not with the added vitamins and minerals. I truly feel that this is working. My psychologist is watching closely as this is still breakthrough and has not had a patient try this. This is also new to my psychiatrist. I am his guinea pig. He has recommended it as a possibility to another patient. I only know this because the patient is a friend of mine and she told me.
It is a long road, and I don't know how I will be from day to day, thus the purpose of this blog. Whoever is reading this will go along with me for the ride, one grain at a time.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Severe Depression, Self Harm and Understanding
I am doing fine so far today. Still fighting infection, but I have always felt that if you are doing well mentally you can handle the other things a little better. Much better. I haven't worked out for a week, due to feeling sick so I'm looking forward to being well enough to start back at it. Maybe tomorrow. No side effects today. I have transitioned pretty well from this last med reduction.
I want to thank those of you who have read my blog. It is like journaling with people who support you. I told one friend that I used to have a column and the best part about it was that I could say whatever I wanted, without interruption, delete if necessary without worrying about what someone else thought. This is a little different in that I am hoping to help people who suffer from bi-polar disorder and depression. I have had some comments and they lift me. But today I am going to write about what months of severe depression is like.
I will warn you, what I am about to write will be graphic. I'm not proud of my previous "coping skills", and as I have said, I have been "clean and sober" from self harm since July 1, 2009. I do not have thoughts of death and I have no self harm thoughts. I don't condone any behavior to which I am to admit. I just want someone who is dealing with depression and self harm to know that there is someone out there that understands and that there is hope and help on the other side. If you or someone you know exhibits these symptoms or thoughts please go, or get them to the nearest emergency room.
Take the most painful, guttural grief one can imagine and transfer that to your mind. It is like climbing Mt. Everest everyday. Sleep is refuge. Pitch black with no dreams. Then it ends, the blackness, to awaken to the immediate hell of consiousness.
The life of depression is... No. The death of oneself through depression is relentless. The faith and will contstantly try to convince the mind that death is not the answer. Always believing that I could never take my own life, the agony that flows through my mind and body, the sickness and pain no one can see, the appeal of death keeps winning.
I must counteract the wretched agony that grips my brain and body.Pain from another source, slamming the crow bar against my calves, shins, my hips and my arms until I can dissociate, then to the point where I can't take the pain anymore distracts me.
Razor blades, an exacto-knife, blade size 11, which being an artist I usually have around, or I go to the store and buy a new one with new blades, covering my tracks by saying that I have a project for which I need it. I find reasons to go up and down crafts aisles giving me a hint as to what I can do to justify buying the tool.
It hurts a little at first, but then I begin to dissociate and the blade goes deeper and deeper making long lines on my skin. I must bleed. I must see the blood. I feel a release, a relief.
My mind becomes more and more skewed. The depression does not leave. I cannot take if for one more second, and God says I can't kill myself. I don't believe, or I didn't believe in suicide until this depression. I yell at God. Surely He knows just how much I can take.
I go for a ride down highway 218. Driving 80, 90, 100 miles per hour looking for a good sized tree. I scream at God, praying at the same time for Him to take this away. I can't do it.
At work, as an art director, my depression permeats the production department. They try every method to "cheer me up" with no success. They begin to ostracize me. I cannot take part in any conversation. They just look at me, ignore what I say and go back to talking among themselves. It is difficult for others, I understand. It is tough to be around someone who cannot have their spirits lifted no matter what you do. Eventually everyone gives up. But I am still here and I have a soul. Just because they don't acknowledge me does not make me extinct.
During talks with my daughter I try to explain to her why I have to kill myself so that everyone will be happier. I can't comprehend grief. I can't convey to another living soul why I can't again "pull myself up by my bootstraps" or "snap out of it." If I hear one more person tell me to "snap out of it," the only thing snapping will be their neck.
Taking a batch of family pictures, I cut my face out of them. I realize that in most of them my face is red and blotchy from crying before the picture was taken. And it hits. I have felt this way forever. When I try to sleep, I hear my husband and daughter downstairs laughing about something. I can't feel joy. There has never been joy in my life. Just what is laughter, is it mechanical, how is it created? I go downstairs to sit and watch them laugh and try to figure out just how they are doing it. They look happy. What is that?
The nightmare skewing my mind fully understands that suicide, putting a gun to my head and pulling the trigger would be as easy as walking into Wal-Mart. Why can't anyone understand this? I ask a minister to hook me up with someone who knows what grief feels like and why doing away with myself is not a good idea. I ask about the Church's stand on suicide...just how a funeral is conducted for someone who does this. And I'm assured that a funeral would be conducted in the very same way that is done for anyone else.
At work I wear ear buds and listen to Josh Groban. No one wants to speak to me, so I take myself away from conversations. Every other second I think about death and how to accomplish it. I have a suicide hotline number next to the phone. I talk to the publishing editor trying to explain what is happening to me.
Having been hired with wonderful references I tell her, "Imagine that you are awesome at pinball. And there is one game you have down to a science. You rock that game and you've told people you can do it, and others have testified to the fact that you are great at your machine. But one day the game is broken. The right side levers have quit, no matter how many times you press the buttons for the right levers they won't move. No one else sees this however. They just see your score and judge you and ridicule you for not knowing that you are working your brains out to win the game. It is just not going to happen."
My creativity is gone., I am ignored at staff meetings, I cry uncontrollably. My supervisor points out to me that I upset the production department. And I explain, "Do you think I'm doing this on purpose? I have a mental illness. I can't help it. If someone with epilepsy fell on the ground and had a seizure in the production department, that would upset the department too, but it is still not their fault."
I resign. If a marble was tossed into the Grand Canyon and went straight to the bottom it would still not be as low as I feel. The physical and emotional, mental pain would not let me read a sentence. I go to the emergency room. When asked if I have a living will I reply, "no." I have never had such pain in my life. Torn cartilage in my knee, two herniated disks, my foot sliced badly, hit in the back of the head with a baseball bat, child birth, hysterectomy and other surgeries, and the grief for my father's death, none come close to the pain I'm feeling.
The nurse asks me if I believe in God. Yes. But I can't take it any more.
And this, this is what severe depression feels like.
This experience was from the fall of 2000, before I was diagnosed. I did resign my position at the publishing company. I have been hospitalized ten times. Twice in an in-patient trauma unit in a psych hospital which teaches cognitive therapy, dialectical behavioral therapy, art therapy, guided imagry, boundaries, EMDR (Eye movement and desenetization and reprocessing) and distress tolerance skills for PTSD. The other times were for medication adjustment or self harm issues.
When I say that I know how severe depression feels, maybe I'm right.
I want to thank those of you who have read my blog. It is like journaling with people who support you. I told one friend that I used to have a column and the best part about it was that I could say whatever I wanted, without interruption, delete if necessary without worrying about what someone else thought. This is a little different in that I am hoping to help people who suffer from bi-polar disorder and depression. I have had some comments and they lift me. But today I am going to write about what months of severe depression is like.
I will warn you, what I am about to write will be graphic. I'm not proud of my previous "coping skills", and as I have said, I have been "clean and sober" from self harm since July 1, 2009. I do not have thoughts of death and I have no self harm thoughts. I don't condone any behavior to which I am to admit. I just want someone who is dealing with depression and self harm to know that there is someone out there that understands and that there is hope and help on the other side. If you or someone you know exhibits these symptoms or thoughts please go, or get them to the nearest emergency room.
Take the most painful, guttural grief one can imagine and transfer that to your mind. It is like climbing Mt. Everest everyday. Sleep is refuge. Pitch black with no dreams. Then it ends, the blackness, to awaken to the immediate hell of consiousness.
The life of depression is... No. The death of oneself through depression is relentless. The faith and will contstantly try to convince the mind that death is not the answer. Always believing that I could never take my own life, the agony that flows through my mind and body, the sickness and pain no one can see, the appeal of death keeps winning.
I must counteract the wretched agony that grips my brain and body.Pain from another source, slamming the crow bar against my calves, shins, my hips and my arms until I can dissociate, then to the point where I can't take the pain anymore distracts me.
Razor blades, an exacto-knife, blade size 11, which being an artist I usually have around, or I go to the store and buy a new one with new blades, covering my tracks by saying that I have a project for which I need it. I find reasons to go up and down crafts aisles giving me a hint as to what I can do to justify buying the tool.
It hurts a little at first, but then I begin to dissociate and the blade goes deeper and deeper making long lines on my skin. I must bleed. I must see the blood. I feel a release, a relief.
My mind becomes more and more skewed. The depression does not leave. I cannot take if for one more second, and God says I can't kill myself. I don't believe, or I didn't believe in suicide until this depression. I yell at God. Surely He knows just how much I can take.
I go for a ride down highway 218. Driving 80, 90, 100 miles per hour looking for a good sized tree. I scream at God, praying at the same time for Him to take this away. I can't do it.
At work, as an art director, my depression permeats the production department. They try every method to "cheer me up" with no success. They begin to ostracize me. I cannot take part in any conversation. They just look at me, ignore what I say and go back to talking among themselves. It is difficult for others, I understand. It is tough to be around someone who cannot have their spirits lifted no matter what you do. Eventually everyone gives up. But I am still here and I have a soul. Just because they don't acknowledge me does not make me extinct.
During talks with my daughter I try to explain to her why I have to kill myself so that everyone will be happier. I can't comprehend grief. I can't convey to another living soul why I can't again "pull myself up by my bootstraps" or "snap out of it." If I hear one more person tell me to "snap out of it," the only thing snapping will be their neck.
Taking a batch of family pictures, I cut my face out of them. I realize that in most of them my face is red and blotchy from crying before the picture was taken. And it hits. I have felt this way forever. When I try to sleep, I hear my husband and daughter downstairs laughing about something. I can't feel joy. There has never been joy in my life. Just what is laughter, is it mechanical, how is it created? I go downstairs to sit and watch them laugh and try to figure out just how they are doing it. They look happy. What is that?
The nightmare skewing my mind fully understands that suicide, putting a gun to my head and pulling the trigger would be as easy as walking into Wal-Mart. Why can't anyone understand this? I ask a minister to hook me up with someone who knows what grief feels like and why doing away with myself is not a good idea. I ask about the Church's stand on suicide...just how a funeral is conducted for someone who does this. And I'm assured that a funeral would be conducted in the very same way that is done for anyone else.
At work I wear ear buds and listen to Josh Groban. No one wants to speak to me, so I take myself away from conversations. Every other second I think about death and how to accomplish it. I have a suicide hotline number next to the phone. I talk to the publishing editor trying to explain what is happening to me.
Having been hired with wonderful references I tell her, "Imagine that you are awesome at pinball. And there is one game you have down to a science. You rock that game and you've told people you can do it, and others have testified to the fact that you are great at your machine. But one day the game is broken. The right side levers have quit, no matter how many times you press the buttons for the right levers they won't move. No one else sees this however. They just see your score and judge you and ridicule you for not knowing that you are working your brains out to win the game. It is just not going to happen."
My creativity is gone., I am ignored at staff meetings, I cry uncontrollably. My supervisor points out to me that I upset the production department. And I explain, "Do you think I'm doing this on purpose? I have a mental illness. I can't help it. If someone with epilepsy fell on the ground and had a seizure in the production department, that would upset the department too, but it is still not their fault."
I resign. If a marble was tossed into the Grand Canyon and went straight to the bottom it would still not be as low as I feel. The physical and emotional, mental pain would not let me read a sentence. I go to the emergency room. When asked if I have a living will I reply, "no." I have never had such pain in my life. Torn cartilage in my knee, two herniated disks, my foot sliced badly, hit in the back of the head with a baseball bat, child birth, hysterectomy and other surgeries, and the grief for my father's death, none come close to the pain I'm feeling.
The nurse asks me if I believe in God. Yes. But I can't take it any more.
And this, this is what severe depression feels like.
This experience was from the fall of 2000, before I was diagnosed. I did resign my position at the publishing company. I have been hospitalized ten times. Twice in an in-patient trauma unit in a psych hospital which teaches cognitive therapy, dialectical behavioral therapy, art therapy, guided imagry, boundaries, EMDR (Eye movement and desenetization and reprocessing) and distress tolerance skills for PTSD. The other times were for medication adjustment or self harm issues.
When I say that I know how severe depression feels, maybe I'm right.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Treating Mental Illness as a Physical Illness
Yesterday was tough. I felt like I had iron coursing through my veins. My skin felt tight. But I was having a tough day in another way. I have an infection. I was able to see the doctor and got some antibiotics. Then I was given a prescription for the pain. "This will help with your symptoms, while the antibiotics work on the source."
Beautifully put. In physical pain there is a root cause usually. Modern medicine recognizes this and has found cures for the source of the pain and medication to address the symptoms as well. Mental illness is an illness. It has a root cause. Some of it is environmental, but I have found that even though I have PTSD, when my mind is well I can handle that stress too. Simple. Psychiatric medication treats the symptoms, vitamins, minerals and amino acids that your brain NEEDS treat the source of the symptoms.
Sunday I wrote about how well I felt. It was so great. To remember feeling that well, I had to recall a feeling I had 30 years ago. A feeling of wellness. Total wellness. I'm feeling pretty good today, in spite of the physical response to the reduction of psychotropic meds. I had some depression last night, but being physically ill didn't help matters.
I'm going to stop separating mental illness from physical illness. I am finding out that the supplements are giving me the amount of nutrients that my physiological brain needs to function. Don't we all function better when we get the proper nutrition? Its not practical to eat 25 oranges, but if your brain needs that amount of vitamin C, then it needs to be delivered in another form. I'm just throwing that number out there. As my doctor pointed out to me on Friday, the results are remarkable.
I was at the point where...I'm not sure what they were going to do with me next, ECT? Most of my psych drugs were maxed out. Different cocktails, different dosages, different new and improved meds to try, my doctor told me that I might as well try the nutritional supplements, he had just about exhausted his options for my treatment.
I will begin taking probiotics that help maintain "friendly" bacteria for a healthy digestive tract. The vitamin/mineral supplements, amino acids and probiotics are used to give the body what it needs.
Finally! Addressing the root cause of mental illness, even that which is genetic, is being done. This is not a "cure" the body will continue to need those same nutrients, the body will not need the psych meds to treat the symptoms because the symptoms will be alleviated.
Have a good day. Enjoy your moments in this life. It's the only life you get.
Beautifully put. In physical pain there is a root cause usually. Modern medicine recognizes this and has found cures for the source of the pain and medication to address the symptoms as well. Mental illness is an illness. It has a root cause. Some of it is environmental, but I have found that even though I have PTSD, when my mind is well I can handle that stress too. Simple. Psychiatric medication treats the symptoms, vitamins, minerals and amino acids that your brain NEEDS treat the source of the symptoms.
Sunday I wrote about how well I felt. It was so great. To remember feeling that well, I had to recall a feeling I had 30 years ago. A feeling of wellness. Total wellness. I'm feeling pretty good today, in spite of the physical response to the reduction of psychotropic meds. I had some depression last night, but being physically ill didn't help matters.
I'm going to stop separating mental illness from physical illness. I am finding out that the supplements are giving me the amount of nutrients that my physiological brain needs to function. Don't we all function better when we get the proper nutrition? Its not practical to eat 25 oranges, but if your brain needs that amount of vitamin C, then it needs to be delivered in another form. I'm just throwing that number out there. As my doctor pointed out to me on Friday, the results are remarkable.
I was at the point where...I'm not sure what they were going to do with me next, ECT? Most of my psych drugs were maxed out. Different cocktails, different dosages, different new and improved meds to try, my doctor told me that I might as well try the nutritional supplements, he had just about exhausted his options for my treatment.
I will begin taking probiotics that help maintain "friendly" bacteria for a healthy digestive tract. The vitamin/mineral supplements, amino acids and probiotics are used to give the body what it needs.
Finally! Addressing the root cause of mental illness, even that which is genetic, is being done. This is not a "cure" the body will continue to need those same nutrients, the body will not need the psych meds to treat the symptoms because the symptoms will be alleviated.
Have a good day. Enjoy your moments in this life. It's the only life you get.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Enjoying Today, Waiting For Spring
Did I say something about a "House" episode? Yesterday I mentioned an electric pain in my ears and hoped it wasn't something that would be in a "House" episode. So last night I turn on the show and what is the first symptom of the patient? Earsplitting pain! She turns out to be psychotic. Too ironic. But as always, just before they give up hope on her there is an epiphany and the correct diagnosis comes sliding in at home plate. Not psychotic. Whew. No, I do not think I am experiencing the same thing. I just couldn't believe the irony. Now on to the rest...
It is still too early to tell what side effects I will be experiencing since reducing ALL of my medications as of this morning. I did fine overnight reducing Lamictal and Geodon, however I won't know until this evening if I will be in withdrawal. My attitude is upbeat and I am looking forward to the day.
We have a 10% chance of snow and schools are on two hour delay. February is right around the corner and it is said the February is to winter what Wednesday is to the work week. I think it is closer to Thursday by my perspective. This has been a long winter all across the nation. Tomorrow we are to have sun but will still be in the teens. I know, just two days ago it was raining with a break for sunshine and we had green grass. It didn't last but that day. Such is life in the midwest. I grew up in Southern California surrounded by those funny tall things called palm trees. I never really paid much attention to them, they were just part of the landscape, like graffiti. I don't miss the graffiti but I could sure get used to some balmy weather, a few palm trees and the smell of orange blossoms.
We had an orange tree in our back yard. Also in the back we had two different plum trees, an apricot tree, an avocato and a pear tree. In the front yard we had a tangerine tree, some people call them "clementines". When we were kids, my mom would send us out for the day to play, we barely had to come in. We had plenty of food outside when it was ripe and a garden hose from which to drink. A new generation probably is agast at the thought of drinking out of a hose. Shoot, we climbed the apricot tree, got dirt under our fingernails and survived. We probably built up a pretty good immune system while building muscles at the same time.
So I'm waxing nostalgic at the thought of spring. Spring in California isn't really that different from any other time of the year except for the blossoms. We never had the excitement of the changing seasons. I learned quickly in the midwest that you could always talk about the weather because it would change in five minutes. Weather and color. Our area had sea gulls, crows, wrens, doves and pigeons.
When I moved to the midwest, the first time I saw a yellow finch I thought someone had left their bird cage open! Yellow finches, blue Jays, Cardinals, Orioles, Robins..gorgeous birds. I think God gave us these flying flowers for our own enjoyment. They certainly are not camoufaged to protect them, but to be seen and enjoyed. Flying flowers bringing music to the air. God is Great.
I got a phone call from a friend last night just checking in on me seeing how I was doing. It was nice to hear from her. How kind. There is a saying: Be kind, for everyone is fighting a great battle. Listening to others, reading facebook and blogs, I know that everyone has their unique set of trials. Some heartwrenching. Today I have good days to look back on and new ones to look forward to. I don't know what tomorrow will bring; maybe more snow, maybe sunshine, the shakes or agonizing anxiety..but I'm not worried. Because life comes one day and one second at a time. I'm enjoying this moment.
I hope you have a great day today as well.
It is still too early to tell what side effects I will be experiencing since reducing ALL of my medications as of this morning. I did fine overnight reducing Lamictal and Geodon, however I won't know until this evening if I will be in withdrawal. My attitude is upbeat and I am looking forward to the day.
We have a 10% chance of snow and schools are on two hour delay. February is right around the corner and it is said the February is to winter what Wednesday is to the work week. I think it is closer to Thursday by my perspective. This has been a long winter all across the nation. Tomorrow we are to have sun but will still be in the teens. I know, just two days ago it was raining with a break for sunshine and we had green grass. It didn't last but that day. Such is life in the midwest. I grew up in Southern California surrounded by those funny tall things called palm trees. I never really paid much attention to them, they were just part of the landscape, like graffiti. I don't miss the graffiti but I could sure get used to some balmy weather, a few palm trees and the smell of orange blossoms.
We had an orange tree in our back yard. Also in the back we had two different plum trees, an apricot tree, an avocato and a pear tree. In the front yard we had a tangerine tree, some people call them "clementines". When we were kids, my mom would send us out for the day to play, we barely had to come in. We had plenty of food outside when it was ripe and a garden hose from which to drink. A new generation probably is agast at the thought of drinking out of a hose. Shoot, we climbed the apricot tree, got dirt under our fingernails and survived. We probably built up a pretty good immune system while building muscles at the same time.
So I'm waxing nostalgic at the thought of spring. Spring in California isn't really that different from any other time of the year except for the blossoms. We never had the excitement of the changing seasons. I learned quickly in the midwest that you could always talk about the weather because it would change in five minutes. Weather and color. Our area had sea gulls, crows, wrens, doves and pigeons.
When I moved to the midwest, the first time I saw a yellow finch I thought someone had left their bird cage open! Yellow finches, blue Jays, Cardinals, Orioles, Robins..gorgeous birds. I think God gave us these flying flowers for our own enjoyment. They certainly are not camoufaged to protect them, but to be seen and enjoyed. Flying flowers bringing music to the air. God is Great.
I got a phone call from a friend last night just checking in on me seeing how I was doing. It was nice to hear from her. How kind. There is a saying: Be kind, for everyone is fighting a great battle. Listening to others, reading facebook and blogs, I know that everyone has their unique set of trials. Some heartwrenching. Today I have good days to look back on and new ones to look forward to. I don't know what tomorrow will bring; maybe more snow, maybe sunshine, the shakes or agonizing anxiety..but I'm not worried. Because life comes one day and one second at a time. I'm enjoying this moment.
I hope you have a great day today as well.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Titrating off Meds
I have helpers at the house today, my daughter and her fiance and painting again and preparing the trim to be painted also. We going to move our huge claw-foot tub out of the bathroom and into my room for safekeeping until the floor is pulled up in one place to fix plumbing, old flooring taken off, new paint, a photo mural and new floor put in. So I figure...about a year.
Yesterday was awesome! I'm still basking in the glow of it even though today is not quite the same, I have a new experience to stash away during my upcoming adjustment with reducing meds. Beginning with this evening's and tomorrow morning's dosages I will be cutting down on all my psychotropic drugs and increasing my nutritional supplements and amino acids. A few months ago I was taken off of 300 mg of Effexor cold turkey! I shook for three weeks. These dosages will be done all at once but in very small amounts. Effexor will be reduced 25.25 percent, Wellbutrin by 1/8th, Clonazapam will go down to 1 mg from 1.25, Lamictal cut 1/4th and Geodon by taking off 30 mg.
This will be interesting. Please don't take this as medical advice for yourself. I am on several high dosage psych meds and tapering off is never pleasant. My "pink cloud" feeling is not going to last for long. I'm well aware, but having been through withdrawal I think I can take it. (Famous Last Words!)
I have a condition I have not mentioned because it is incredibly strange. Several months ago I began having electric shocks (not ECT) in my ears as I begin to doze when going to sleep at night. Don't run! My doctor has told me it is may be an auditory hallucination, but the pain is so real. I will just start to drift to sleep and then...zap, both ears feel an electric shock. So I fear falling asleep and try to stay awake, three to five minutes later, zap. It doesn't end. Sometimes if I take Tylenol PM it knocks me out fast enough for this to not happen. I haven't had an episode like this for about two months. It hit again last night. I ended up sleeping in the recliner since it doesn't seem to happen when I am sitting up. Okay, now you can run.
I've seen an ear, nose and throat doctor, but he only recommended another drug similar to the ones I am on. I am going to consult a neurologist. I hope it is something that can actually be dealt with and something someone has heard of and not be another episode of "House."
It's not easy being "green"*
*insert "psycho" here.
I think it would help if you kept me in your prayers, I would so appreciate it. Thanks. I'll talk to you tomorrow. No matter what. Be prepared.
Yesterday was awesome! I'm still basking in the glow of it even though today is not quite the same, I have a new experience to stash away during my upcoming adjustment with reducing meds. Beginning with this evening's and tomorrow morning's dosages I will be cutting down on all my psychotropic drugs and increasing my nutritional supplements and amino acids. A few months ago I was taken off of 300 mg of Effexor cold turkey! I shook for three weeks. These dosages will be done all at once but in very small amounts. Effexor will be reduced 25.25 percent, Wellbutrin by 1/8th, Clonazapam will go down to 1 mg from 1.25, Lamictal cut 1/4th and Geodon by taking off 30 mg.
This will be interesting. Please don't take this as medical advice for yourself. I am on several high dosage psych meds and tapering off is never pleasant. My "pink cloud" feeling is not going to last for long. I'm well aware, but having been through withdrawal I think I can take it. (Famous Last Words!)
I have a condition I have not mentioned because it is incredibly strange. Several months ago I began having electric shocks (not ECT) in my ears as I begin to doze when going to sleep at night. Don't run! My doctor has told me it is may be an auditory hallucination, but the pain is so real. I will just start to drift to sleep and then...zap, both ears feel an electric shock. So I fear falling asleep and try to stay awake, three to five minutes later, zap. It doesn't end. Sometimes if I take Tylenol PM it knocks me out fast enough for this to not happen. I haven't had an episode like this for about two months. It hit again last night. I ended up sleeping in the recliner since it doesn't seem to happen when I am sitting up. Okay, now you can run.
I've seen an ear, nose and throat doctor, but he only recommended another drug similar to the ones I am on. I am going to consult a neurologist. I hope it is something that can actually be dealt with and something someone has heard of and not be another episode of "House."
It's not easy being "green"*
*insert "psycho" here.
I think it would help if you kept me in your prayers, I would so appreciate it. Thanks. I'll talk to you tomorrow. No matter what. Be prepared.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Pure Joy
This may sound trivial but watching the rain this morning on the green grass made me think, "I hope we can sell this house before summer." Why is this even interesting? I used the word "hope."
Over the past several years and more specifically in the last few months I have not felt hope. I have mentioned in this space that there is hope that the treatment works. I have not actually hoped for anything except, Please God let my life end before I want to take it again. Depression had me in it's grip far too long. I'm relatively sure that this treatment will have it's ups and downs. I've had symptoms of withdrawal but they were short-lived. Tomorrow I begin reducing a different medication.
On my way home from church as the sun shone through the gray clouds and I felt it's warmth on my face and smiled from deep inside. This is such an unknown feeling. A taste of spring after years of winter. This is not manic, jump for joy, go out and buy a plane type of feeling. It is a calm like I don't remember ever having. A spring of liquid sunlight coursing through my body is what I am feeling. I remember falling in love. I do remember such a feeling. I feel alive and well. I don't know how long this will last but for now it is everything.
I just talked to my husband and shared with him this extraordinary experience. I suppose it is akin to euphoria. I went to bed very early last night and woke up at 1:08 a.m. and have been up ever since. Even though I am tired I don't want to take a nap and risk losing this feeling. If I can feel this good even occasionally...it's huge! I have been manic and this is nothing like it. It's pure joy.
Over the past several years and more specifically in the last few months I have not felt hope. I have mentioned in this space that there is hope that the treatment works. I have not actually hoped for anything except, Please God let my life end before I want to take it again. Depression had me in it's grip far too long. I'm relatively sure that this treatment will have it's ups and downs. I've had symptoms of withdrawal but they were short-lived. Tomorrow I begin reducing a different medication.
On my way home from church as the sun shone through the gray clouds and I felt it's warmth on my face and smiled from deep inside. This is such an unknown feeling. A taste of spring after years of winter. This is not manic, jump for joy, go out and buy a plane type of feeling. It is a calm like I don't remember ever having. A spring of liquid sunlight coursing through my body is what I am feeling. I remember falling in love. I do remember such a feeling. I feel alive and well. I don't know how long this will last but for now it is everything.
I just talked to my husband and shared with him this extraordinary experience. I suppose it is akin to euphoria. I went to bed very early last night and woke up at 1:08 a.m. and have been up ever since. Even though I am tired I don't want to take a nap and risk losing this feeling. If I can feel this good even occasionally...it's huge! I have been manic and this is nothing like it. It's pure joy.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
The Unhealthy Mind Cannot Make You Well
Some time ago I wrote an essay entitled: On Being "Normal". I referred to a story written in a 55-year-old volume of Keys to Happiness, a collection of essays and articles by noteworthy motivational writers and speakers of the time. The I quoted from the essay "Your Mind Can Make You Well." A reader of my essay has told me she thinks it is 'right on' and has shared it with many people. I now have to amend that essay. A lot has changed in 55 years.
On its own, the mind may not be able to make you well. There is a futility in trying when your brain is lacking in serotonin, norepinephrin and the vitamins and minerals it needs. The neurons in the brain transmit chemical messages from one to another through dendrites which stem from the neuron like branches of a tree. Other dendrites pick up the messages in a normally functioning brain. When the brain does not have the correct chemicals to make it healthy those messages reuptake, or return to the dendrite without crossing to the recieving dendrites. That is why psychiatrists prescribe reuptake inhibitors to prevent the action of reuptake and cause the dentrites to communicate, thus the chemical messages reach from neuron to neuron through the dendrites.
An unhealthy mind cannot make you well. It is a great wish, a dream, a will that is ever present to one in mental anquish. This is the reason that a person with a chemical imbalance cannot "pull themselves up by their bootstraps." They are unable to do so with their brain which is not functioning. How many people refuse to see a doctor when they have severe depression, believing deep down that they can will themselves to get better? They are criticized and maligned. They are "not strong enough" to do it, thereby making them feel like worthless human beings...sound familiar? The treatment I am undergoing is addressing the cause of the problem and not just the symptoms. My mind is getting healthy and is able to make the connections again.
Even at my worst, when I was hyper-talkative, suicidal, irritable, incoherent and feeling hopeless and depressed, there was a part of me that actually saw things clearly, seeing how I was acting, knowing that I could not stop myself from saying what I said, even though I knew I should not be saying it. I call that the silent witness. A part of me who knows "this is not right, its not me, this is not normal," looking on in horror and crying in desperation at poor choices, words and actions and agony at not being able to stop them. The unhealthy mind cannot make you well. It just doesn't have the equipment it needs to function correctly.
When I was five, I wanted to die. I didn't know it was something mental, I just wanted my life to be over. There were reasons for that of external influences but however it came on I just wanted it to end. Somehow I knew it was wrong to feel that way. I remember going to the doctor's office with my mom and sitting in the waiting room looking at a book called, "Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories." Unbelievable that these stories were to be told to children before going to bed. I couldn't read at the time but looked at the pictures.
When I was seven, I remember looking at the book again in the same office, but then I could read and comprehend. There was a story about a little boy who was hit by a car and in critical condition, banged up and was not going to live. A little friend of his came to visit and told him that every night Jesus came through the hospital and if you raised your hand He would take you home. The boy in the hospital bed agreed and his visitor propped his arm up so Jesus could see it. In the morning he was gone. For two weeks I propped my arm up with my blankets hoping that if Jesus could come the hospital, maybe He would come to my house and take me with Him.
I have been fighting ever since.
And now I have hope. I have not been in a constant state of depression my entire life. Off and on, off and on, but the past 11 years have been the toughest. This year alone I was hopitalized twice for med adjustments. I have had three to nine months to a year of saneness all while on medication. And since January 1st I have been the best in so many months. I said yesterday that my doctor stated it was "remarkable."
Yes it is.
On its own, the mind may not be able to make you well. There is a futility in trying when your brain is lacking in serotonin, norepinephrin and the vitamins and minerals it needs. The neurons in the brain transmit chemical messages from one to another through dendrites which stem from the neuron like branches of a tree. Other dendrites pick up the messages in a normally functioning brain. When the brain does not have the correct chemicals to make it healthy those messages reuptake, or return to the dendrite without crossing to the recieving dendrites. That is why psychiatrists prescribe reuptake inhibitors to prevent the action of reuptake and cause the dentrites to communicate, thus the chemical messages reach from neuron to neuron through the dendrites.
An unhealthy mind cannot make you well. It is a great wish, a dream, a will that is ever present to one in mental anquish. This is the reason that a person with a chemical imbalance cannot "pull themselves up by their bootstraps." They are unable to do so with their brain which is not functioning. How many people refuse to see a doctor when they have severe depression, believing deep down that they can will themselves to get better? They are criticized and maligned. They are "not strong enough" to do it, thereby making them feel like worthless human beings...sound familiar? The treatment I am undergoing is addressing the cause of the problem and not just the symptoms. My mind is getting healthy and is able to make the connections again.
Even at my worst, when I was hyper-talkative, suicidal, irritable, incoherent and feeling hopeless and depressed, there was a part of me that actually saw things clearly, seeing how I was acting, knowing that I could not stop myself from saying what I said, even though I knew I should not be saying it. I call that the silent witness. A part of me who knows "this is not right, its not me, this is not normal," looking on in horror and crying in desperation at poor choices, words and actions and agony at not being able to stop them. The unhealthy mind cannot make you well. It just doesn't have the equipment it needs to function correctly.
When I was five, I wanted to die. I didn't know it was something mental, I just wanted my life to be over. There were reasons for that of external influences but however it came on I just wanted it to end. Somehow I knew it was wrong to feel that way. I remember going to the doctor's office with my mom and sitting in the waiting room looking at a book called, "Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories." Unbelievable that these stories were to be told to children before going to bed. I couldn't read at the time but looked at the pictures.
When I was seven, I remember looking at the book again in the same office, but then I could read and comprehend. There was a story about a little boy who was hit by a car and in critical condition, banged up and was not going to live. A little friend of his came to visit and told him that every night Jesus came through the hospital and if you raised your hand He would take you home. The boy in the hospital bed agreed and his visitor propped his arm up so Jesus could see it. In the morning he was gone. For two weeks I propped my arm up with my blankets hoping that if Jesus could come the hospital, maybe He would come to my house and take me with Him.
I have been fighting ever since.
And now I have hope. I have not been in a constant state of depression my entire life. Off and on, off and on, but the past 11 years have been the toughest. This year alone I was hopitalized twice for med adjustments. I have had three to nine months to a year of saneness all while on medication. And since January 1st I have been the best in so many months. I said yesterday that my doctor stated it was "remarkable."
Yes it is.
Friday, January 22, 2010
It's Remarkable
Well, nothing blew up! I talked with the school and it is still standing. The mural will be produced by the students in the independent art program. I will meet with the Instructor and her best students and go through the entire process that I use and have used in murals and backdrops for set designs in theatres. Then they will do the drawing on and the painting. I will be a rescource for their questions, but it will be their baby.
I think this is the best case senario, fine artists with a 60 ft. long 12ft high space to fill. It's like being in a candy store. Any artist can tell you what a blank canvas means to them. It must be filled, and they are the one to fill it. So I think the students will love having this as a project. It might be given to one student with others assisting or it may be two or three working together blending their styles. If there are to be more than one student doing the job, I will need to teach them how to blend their styles so the end result is cohesive. I'm looking forward to this.
Today I saw my psychiatrist and he commented on my appearance. "You look very professional today, you look. . .in the pink. You look good. How are you doing?" He made me laugh the way he he said I was "in the pink"I told him how I have been having good days, no anxiety, that I have felt normal (for me) and I told him about my conversation with my psychologist. I said, "my psychologist and I agreed that this is the only time I have ever reduced a medication and have done well." "I'm impressed,"he said. He asked about my use of Xanax, an anti-anxiety pill, he had to call in for me one night when the pain was nearly unbearable. I told him I was off of that, and then told him the level of Clonazapam. He said, "this is remarkable."
I'm so happy in the fact that I have a great doctor who was willing to try this route since I was running out of options. He is a good guy, an M.D. for only eight years, he is in his late 50's at least. He was a non-traditional student and although he has never had depression, he wanted to help those who do. He is very open minded and wise. My doctor wrote out refills for Wellbutrin, Effexor and Clonazapam, all at low dosages in order to taper down. I will soon be off of Clonazapam and most likely I will begin reducing Effexor. I currently take 225 mg per day. He said that he usually has patients titrate off of this medication by 75mg doses. In my case however, he said that it is a very delicate balance adjusting meds, meaning I'm a pain in the butt to figure out what cocktail to try next. Not really. I just do not do well with med adjustments, so he is ordering 37.5 mg doses when I begin reducing to help limit the withdrawal effects.
I talk to the counselor who is guiding me through this transition from drugs to nutritional supplements on Monday.
Have a great day. I'll be back tomorrow.
I think this is the best case senario, fine artists with a 60 ft. long 12ft high space to fill. It's like being in a candy store. Any artist can tell you what a blank canvas means to them. It must be filled, and they are the one to fill it. So I think the students will love having this as a project. It might be given to one student with others assisting or it may be two or three working together blending their styles. If there are to be more than one student doing the job, I will need to teach them how to blend their styles so the end result is cohesive. I'm looking forward to this.
Today I saw my psychiatrist and he commented on my appearance. "You look very professional today, you look. . .in the pink. You look good. How are you doing?" He made me laugh the way he he said I was "in the pink"I told him how I have been having good days, no anxiety, that I have felt normal (for me) and I told him about my conversation with my psychologist. I said, "my psychologist and I agreed that this is the only time I have ever reduced a medication and have done well." "I'm impressed,"he said. He asked about my use of Xanax, an anti-anxiety pill, he had to call in for me one night when the pain was nearly unbearable. I told him I was off of that, and then told him the level of Clonazapam. He said, "this is remarkable."
I'm so happy in the fact that I have a great doctor who was willing to try this route since I was running out of options. He is a good guy, an M.D. for only eight years, he is in his late 50's at least. He was a non-traditional student and although he has never had depression, he wanted to help those who do. He is very open minded and wise. My doctor wrote out refills for Wellbutrin, Effexor and Clonazapam, all at low dosages in order to taper down. I will soon be off of Clonazapam and most likely I will begin reducing Effexor. I currently take 225 mg per day. He said that he usually has patients titrate off of this medication by 75mg doses. In my case however, he said that it is a very delicate balance adjusting meds, meaning I'm a pain in the butt to figure out what cocktail to try next. Not really. I just do not do well with med adjustments, so he is ordering 37.5 mg doses when I begin reducing to help limit the withdrawal effects.
I talk to the counselor who is guiding me through this transition from drugs to nutritional supplements on Monday.
Have a great day. I'll be back tomorrow.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Moving On
I just got off of the phone with my psychologist. The weather here is freezing drizzle and rain and I didn't want to chance the hour and a half drive. I would if I could she is just that fantastic.
It is hard to fill a full hour with saying "I'm feeling great!" What am I supposed to talk about? Well, we had a good talk and she identified many uncommon behaviors that I am adopting.
We are in the process of moving and I have been downsizing, taking stock of what I really want to hang onto and what to pass on to someone else. Yesterday I was going through our library and came across some French readers and vocabulary books. The original idea was that I was going to read the books with help of the CD's I'd listened to, practice the vocabulary and look in the back of the book for correct pronouciation and meaning to finally really learn French. Instead, when I looked at the shelf I realized I was not going to do that in the near future, and when I really want to learn French I will use Rosetta Stone software. I was able to look at the books, evaluate my desire to learn, understand that books are BOOKS and realize that someone else could probably get some use out of them immediately. I would also not have to pack them.
This behavior and thought process is so non-manic, that my psychologist had to point it out to me. In the past I would have taken the books off of the shelf, put them next to the recliner, sit down right then and try to read. The thought of giving away any book was impossible... because it is a BOOK! We have to keep books, right? No. It is nice to have many books to choose from on the shelf, but if they are of little worth to us and might be better used by someone else..why keep them? This is not an eye opener for those who think this way to begin with, but for me this is a new step forward.
Another item of information I gave her is something I do feel disappointed about. I am an artist and have done many murals. There is a mural that I volunteered to do for the college from which I graduated. With packing, remodeling, repairs, moving, and going off of my medications I have to do something I hate. I am going to have to disappoint someone else. I have looked at the situation and there is not a way to complete all within a reasonable amount of time and remain sane about it. I considered doing this as a supervisory type of project with the students, but even this would need to be too hands-on. I can teach a few workshops on mixing colors and the process I use in producing a mural, I just cannot do it myself even with students helping. It is overwhelming. I'm going to have to say "no".
Again my doctor pointed out what process I went through in coming to this decision. Knowing that I will disappoint someone, knowing I don't want that, but knowing I have to do it is sane. Knowing my limits is okay and staying healthy is a must. This is huge! I am a person who keeps her word. So this is very difficult. I will do what I can, give the design that has already been approved to the art department and teach what I can. I can be available as a resource but I have to give it up. They may decide to scrap it all and start fresh, but that will be up to them.
It is refreshing to be able to make such a decision and be at peace with it.
When I told her that I had reduced my Clonazapam by another eigth of my dosage and have not had side effects or anxiety over that we both agreed that that has never happened, ever. My mood and outlook are not just coincidental. I have never been able to redcuce my medications without serious consequences. This treatment is working. I'm optimistic and I am moving on.
It is hard to fill a full hour with saying "I'm feeling great!" What am I supposed to talk about? Well, we had a good talk and she identified many uncommon behaviors that I am adopting.
We are in the process of moving and I have been downsizing, taking stock of what I really want to hang onto and what to pass on to someone else. Yesterday I was going through our library and came across some French readers and vocabulary books. The original idea was that I was going to read the books with help of the CD's I'd listened to, practice the vocabulary and look in the back of the book for correct pronouciation and meaning to finally really learn French. Instead, when I looked at the shelf I realized I was not going to do that in the near future, and when I really want to learn French I will use Rosetta Stone software. I was able to look at the books, evaluate my desire to learn, understand that books are BOOKS and realize that someone else could probably get some use out of them immediately. I would also not have to pack them.
This behavior and thought process is so non-manic, that my psychologist had to point it out to me. In the past I would have taken the books off of the shelf, put them next to the recliner, sit down right then and try to read. The thought of giving away any book was impossible... because it is a BOOK! We have to keep books, right? No. It is nice to have many books to choose from on the shelf, but if they are of little worth to us and might be better used by someone else..why keep them? This is not an eye opener for those who think this way to begin with, but for me this is a new step forward.
Another item of information I gave her is something I do feel disappointed about. I am an artist and have done many murals. There is a mural that I volunteered to do for the college from which I graduated. With packing, remodeling, repairs, moving, and going off of my medications I have to do something I hate. I am going to have to disappoint someone else. I have looked at the situation and there is not a way to complete all within a reasonable amount of time and remain sane about it. I considered doing this as a supervisory type of project with the students, but even this would need to be too hands-on. I can teach a few workshops on mixing colors and the process I use in producing a mural, I just cannot do it myself even with students helping. It is overwhelming. I'm going to have to say "no".
Again my doctor pointed out what process I went through in coming to this decision. Knowing that I will disappoint someone, knowing I don't want that, but knowing I have to do it is sane. Knowing my limits is okay and staying healthy is a must. This is huge! I am a person who keeps her word. So this is very difficult. I will do what I can, give the design that has already been approved to the art department and teach what I can. I can be available as a resource but I have to give it up. They may decide to scrap it all and start fresh, but that will be up to them.
It is refreshing to be able to make such a decision and be at peace with it.
When I told her that I had reduced my Clonazapam by another eigth of my dosage and have not had side effects or anxiety over that we both agreed that that has never happened, ever. My mood and outlook are not just coincidental. I have never been able to redcuce my medications without serious consequences. This treatment is working. I'm optimistic and I am moving on.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
One Reason for PTSD
So far, so good. Last night I got my butt kicked in Tae Kwon Do sparring with the instructor. Thursday I test for my new belt. I used to be an orange belt years ago and the instructor is taking that into account, but I probably won't advance beyond that in this test. I'm at the point where I'm thinking, "I'm getting too old for this." I may be getting older, but I am getting fitter with going to the "Y" doing cardio and weights and making it through self defense classes. Every class I feel more empowered to fight off an enemy.
I have PTSD or posttraumatic stress disorder. One of the reasons for this comes from the area I grew up in and is one of the reasons I take Tae Kwon Do. I learned at a very young age the way to get away from an attacker when my family took combination self defense of Judo, Karate and Jujitsu. I came away knowing I could throw my 240 pound, 6ft tall dad, how to gouge someones eyes out and how to get away from a grab. The grab move is what kept me from being abducted when I was 17.
I was on my way to work at a local Elementary School as a teacher's aid in music my senior year of high school. I only had school half days so that gave me the chance to walk over to the elementary school about a mile and a half away to work.
On my way this one day I was walking facing traffic as I was taught by my dad who was a police officer. Three quarters of the way to my job a green sedan squealed to a stop, a blond haired guy jumped out, grabbed my wrist and started dragging me to the car. I learned you are supposed to yell "fire" to get attention, but I couldn't make a sound. It was a busy street and there were many witnesses, it just happened so fast. I remembered to twist my hand toward the attacker's thumb and run. I did so and ran in the opposite direction of the way I had been walking so that the guy would have to go around the outside of his car door to follow me. It slowed him down enough to frustrate him. There was an audience, and he got back in the car and they sped away.
I always wondered if they found someone farther down the street who didn't know how to get away. People at the scene gathered around, there were no cell phones at the time, no one called the police and I went on to work. When I got home, after taking the bus that time, I told my parents and my dad said, "well, its a good thing you knew what to do." End of discussion. That was kind of my life. There are many good reasons why I startle easily and can jump if someone even says, "hi" to me. Too many and no need to put them down here. It is just one of the reasons I have chosen self defense as a necessity, not a luxury.
I'm learning more every class. It has been twenty years since my last Tae Kwon Do class, although our master intructor from that time is still one of my family's best friends and we have occasionally broken boards and practiced skills when we have gone to visit. In this Tae Kwon Do class we focus very specifically on self defense and not so much on forms. The instructor is a former police officer and has given us many very logical reasons for moving in or out in the way we do as the fight or flight response kicks in.
Outside drizzle freezes as it hits any surface. That is okay since I have many things to do here at home. Painting, packing, cleaning. I stopped at the store last night after class for some fresh fruit and I am set. I threw some salt on our cement and came back inside this morning.
After reducing my Clonazapam by an eighth again I am doing fine. I have not had any shaking or other withdrawal symptoms. On my symptom evaluation form that I fill out every morning I was able to have 15 complete zeros in response to the questions about anxiety, irritability, racing thoughts, etc.
It is a good day! Chalk one more up to vitamins and minerals! Have a great day!
I have PTSD or posttraumatic stress disorder. One of the reasons for this comes from the area I grew up in and is one of the reasons I take Tae Kwon Do. I learned at a very young age the way to get away from an attacker when my family took combination self defense of Judo, Karate and Jujitsu. I came away knowing I could throw my 240 pound, 6ft tall dad, how to gouge someones eyes out and how to get away from a grab. The grab move is what kept me from being abducted when I was 17.
I was on my way to work at a local Elementary School as a teacher's aid in music my senior year of high school. I only had school half days so that gave me the chance to walk over to the elementary school about a mile and a half away to work.
On my way this one day I was walking facing traffic as I was taught by my dad who was a police officer. Three quarters of the way to my job a green sedan squealed to a stop, a blond haired guy jumped out, grabbed my wrist and started dragging me to the car. I learned you are supposed to yell "fire" to get attention, but I couldn't make a sound. It was a busy street and there were many witnesses, it just happened so fast. I remembered to twist my hand toward the attacker's thumb and run. I did so and ran in the opposite direction of the way I had been walking so that the guy would have to go around the outside of his car door to follow me. It slowed him down enough to frustrate him. There was an audience, and he got back in the car and they sped away.
I always wondered if they found someone farther down the street who didn't know how to get away. People at the scene gathered around, there were no cell phones at the time, no one called the police and I went on to work. When I got home, after taking the bus that time, I told my parents and my dad said, "well, its a good thing you knew what to do." End of discussion. That was kind of my life. There are many good reasons why I startle easily and can jump if someone even says, "hi" to me. Too many and no need to put them down here. It is just one of the reasons I have chosen self defense as a necessity, not a luxury.
I'm learning more every class. It has been twenty years since my last Tae Kwon Do class, although our master intructor from that time is still one of my family's best friends and we have occasionally broken boards and practiced skills when we have gone to visit. In this Tae Kwon Do class we focus very specifically on self defense and not so much on forms. The instructor is a former police officer and has given us many very logical reasons for moving in or out in the way we do as the fight or flight response kicks in.
Outside drizzle freezes as it hits any surface. That is okay since I have many things to do here at home. Painting, packing, cleaning. I stopped at the store last night after class for some fresh fruit and I am set. I threw some salt on our cement and came back inside this morning.
After reducing my Clonazapam by an eighth again I am doing fine. I have not had any shaking or other withdrawal symptoms. On my symptom evaluation form that I fill out every morning I was able to have 15 complete zeros in response to the questions about anxiety, irritability, racing thoughts, etc.
It is a good day! Chalk one more up to vitamins and minerals! Have a great day!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Discarding the Past in Home and Mind
A new day. It is foggy outside and we are looking at possible freezing rain in the forecast. That is opposite of my feelings however.
Yesterday turned out to be a good one and I am looking forward to another great day! I spoke with my counselor and so this morning I reduced my clonazapam by .25 percent on my morning dose bringing my total dosage down from 2mg per day to 1.25. I am making progress. At this point I also increased my supplements from six to seven capsules per day.
I have many days in my arsenal of memories of good days to weather the days of withdrawal. Each day brings me closer to my hope of a normal life.
Yesterday my daughter and her fiance were here and painted the kitchen. I am so excited about that. Each thing that gets done is one step closer to selling the house. We are painting all of the trim in a gloss white. Other than the yellow walls we have a contrast of blue wallpaper making it a French provencial look. We are adding white wainscotting and chair rail along the yellow walls and repainting the cupboards with a fresh coat of the white gloss that is being used on the trim. It is sunny and warm looking. A long time coming, I think it is going to look great.
Forging ahead with decorating and packing makes me feel calm. Decluttering, putting my house in order is an outward evidence of the process taking place within me. Putting the past behind, letting go of things that are no longer needful is a very purifying experience.
I've read a few books on decluttering, two by Don Aslett, America's cleaning and organizing expert. One book not by Aslett gave me the best advice on why we hang on to our old stuff. It is like when someone gives you a gift, it is placed in your hands and is now your responsibility. It is something to be used and loved, you may have mixed feelings about it, but you hang onto it anyway. Now multiply that by every item in your home. A blouse, the apple peeler, a magazine with the great pictures of what your house could look like, the stuffed animal you got when you were in the hospital and someone you love gave it to you. All of the emotion and stories associated with these items.
We must pick up the item and ask ourselves, "Do I need this?" "Will I wear it?" "Is it beautiful?" "Can I live without it?" "Is it here just because I don't want to offend the giver?" Questions such as these are good ones because you can release yourself from each item's hold over you. You only need just so many pages of pictures in crayon that your child made twenty years ago. Really. This has given me the power to discard many things, and not just discard, but share by giving to the Salvation Army or Good will. Just because things have ceased being of use or of importance to me doesn't mean that they cannot be of use to someone else.
Nicer things I have put in a consignment shop and collect a little cash at the end of the month. This all helps cleaning out the corners, knowing closets are free to hold just what I need and when I close the door there is peace. I don't know about you, but there is something so calming about a freshly vacuumed carpet and everything in it's place, few things at that, making life simpler.
My mind has been cluttered long enough, it is time to move on.
On that note I leave you to your day, hoping it is a happy one. :)
Yesterday turned out to be a good one and I am looking forward to another great day! I spoke with my counselor and so this morning I reduced my clonazapam by .25 percent on my morning dose bringing my total dosage down from 2mg per day to 1.25. I am making progress. At this point I also increased my supplements from six to seven capsules per day.
I have many days in my arsenal of memories of good days to weather the days of withdrawal. Each day brings me closer to my hope of a normal life.
Yesterday my daughter and her fiance were here and painted the kitchen. I am so excited about that. Each thing that gets done is one step closer to selling the house. We are painting all of the trim in a gloss white. Other than the yellow walls we have a contrast of blue wallpaper making it a French provencial look. We are adding white wainscotting and chair rail along the yellow walls and repainting the cupboards with a fresh coat of the white gloss that is being used on the trim. It is sunny and warm looking. A long time coming, I think it is going to look great.
Forging ahead with decorating and packing makes me feel calm. Decluttering, putting my house in order is an outward evidence of the process taking place within me. Putting the past behind, letting go of things that are no longer needful is a very purifying experience.
I've read a few books on decluttering, two by Don Aslett, America's cleaning and organizing expert. One book not by Aslett gave me the best advice on why we hang on to our old stuff. It is like when someone gives you a gift, it is placed in your hands and is now your responsibility. It is something to be used and loved, you may have mixed feelings about it, but you hang onto it anyway. Now multiply that by every item in your home. A blouse, the apple peeler, a magazine with the great pictures of what your house could look like, the stuffed animal you got when you were in the hospital and someone you love gave it to you. All of the emotion and stories associated with these items.
We must pick up the item and ask ourselves, "Do I need this?" "Will I wear it?" "Is it beautiful?" "Can I live without it?" "Is it here just because I don't want to offend the giver?" Questions such as these are good ones because you can release yourself from each item's hold over you. You only need just so many pages of pictures in crayon that your child made twenty years ago. Really. This has given me the power to discard many things, and not just discard, but share by giving to the Salvation Army or Good will. Just because things have ceased being of use or of importance to me doesn't mean that they cannot be of use to someone else.
Nicer things I have put in a consignment shop and collect a little cash at the end of the month. This all helps cleaning out the corners, knowing closets are free to hold just what I need and when I close the door there is peace. I don't know about you, but there is something so calming about a freshly vacuumed carpet and everything in it's place, few things at that, making life simpler.
My mind has been cluttered long enough, it is time to move on.
On that note I leave you to your day, hoping it is a happy one. :)
Monday, January 18, 2010
Dirty Laundry
I have help here today getting the house ready to sell. Heidi and Travis are here taping, painting and removing hardware from cupboards. Bob is off to start his new job as District Director and it is time for me to sign in for the day.
I'm doing quite well. I was able to get up at a decent time, make the bed, open the shades and get on with the morning. I wanted to update my blog as to my journey going off of medication. I will probably reduce clonazapam by .25mg today, but my counselor is busy with another client and I will have to talk to her later.
Yesterday I mentioned some of my medications I am currently taking and some of which I have have just gone off. I started taking St. John's Wort on my own as an anti-depressant more than 11 years ago, I just couldn't seem to kick the depression and I was not about to go to a psychiatrist! That would make it official that I was 'crazy' right? What I'm about to write will truly confirm it...Actually not going to a psychiatrist or even a family physician is less sane than going in for help. It was only when the St. John's Wort did not work well that I believed it was time to seek further help.
At first I went to my family doctor. He put me on Paxil. Whenever a person starts a medication for mental disorder or illness it can take up to four to six weeks for results to be evident. That is one of the hardest things in the world, feeling so down you're thinking of suicide and then being told it will be four to six weeks for this feeling to go away. Paxil didn't work for me. The side effects made me feel so sick, so I was put on Celexa which didn't work. It was only after I felt suicidal and my family doctor thought I needed a psychiatrist that I actually made an appointment. I remember being scared and getting dressed to look like the professional I was at the time, as if looking business-like would prove I was okay. I admit I was relieved when although he told me I had severe clinical depression, the good news was that he could help me. I have since been on Trileptal, Trazadone, Adivan, Ambien, Seroquel a few others I can't remember and now I am down to my current meds of Effexor (back again since June), Wellbutrin, Lamictal, Geodon and Clonazapam.
Back in June I was in the hospital for nine days due to self-harm. This is tough for me to admit to the world. I have been going to a twelve-step program to help prevent this addiction. I have a Dissociative Disorder where I "go away" for a while during high stress times. It is a mechanism the mind uses to block out terrible things on it's own while they are happening, and when a memory comes in as a flashback sometimes the same dissociative action automatically takes place. I have used self-harm; cutting, hitting as a way to feel something other than the agony of deep depression. If I can see a cut or a bruise and feel a physical pain, I know it is one I can address and take care of. I have since learned new skills in dealing with outside influences with different behaviors. I was in the hospital in June because I had used self harm to a dangerous extent.
I am thankful that my friends got me to the hospital inspite of my telling them I was okay. No one ever saw my legs except my doctor or my friend that may have seen them in the emergency room. I didn't feel any pain until I was admitted and was kept safe from self harm in the hospital. Then the real deep down pain of the bruising started.
While in the hospital I was taken off of 300mg of Effexor, cold turkey. Instant withdrawal began. I shook for three weeks. The self harm had scared me so bad that I vowed never to do such a thing again. I don't know if going on the vitamins and minerals will help curb this desire or addiction. I know that it is during depression and my wanting to feel anything that has caused me to engage in this behavior. This is a behavior associated with Borderline Personality. I do not have the disorder but I do have this one addictive trait.
Talk about putting your dirty laundry out for all to see! Why would I do such a thing? I guess because it is a part of my mental make-up. One of my symptoms even if I do bring it upon myself. One of the stages I mentioned a couple of days ago talked about waking up and feeling regret for past wrongdoing. I may live to truly regret ever mentioning this. But I can say that after my experience in June and with the help of a twelve-step meeting through my church I have been, "clean and sober" since July 1, 2009 of this behavior.
I am hoping 2010 is the year I get the rest of my life back.
I'm doing quite well. I was able to get up at a decent time, make the bed, open the shades and get on with the morning. I wanted to update my blog as to my journey going off of medication. I will probably reduce clonazapam by .25mg today, but my counselor is busy with another client and I will have to talk to her later.
Yesterday I mentioned some of my medications I am currently taking and some of which I have have just gone off. I started taking St. John's Wort on my own as an anti-depressant more than 11 years ago, I just couldn't seem to kick the depression and I was not about to go to a psychiatrist! That would make it official that I was 'crazy' right? What I'm about to write will truly confirm it...Actually not going to a psychiatrist or even a family physician is less sane than going in for help. It was only when the St. John's Wort did not work well that I believed it was time to seek further help.
At first I went to my family doctor. He put me on Paxil. Whenever a person starts a medication for mental disorder or illness it can take up to four to six weeks for results to be evident. That is one of the hardest things in the world, feeling so down you're thinking of suicide and then being told it will be four to six weeks for this feeling to go away. Paxil didn't work for me. The side effects made me feel so sick, so I was put on Celexa which didn't work. It was only after I felt suicidal and my family doctor thought I needed a psychiatrist that I actually made an appointment. I remember being scared and getting dressed to look like the professional I was at the time, as if looking business-like would prove I was okay. I admit I was relieved when although he told me I had severe clinical depression, the good news was that he could help me. I have since been on Trileptal, Trazadone, Adivan, Ambien, Seroquel a few others I can't remember and now I am down to my current meds of Effexor (back again since June), Wellbutrin, Lamictal, Geodon and Clonazapam.
Back in June I was in the hospital for nine days due to self-harm. This is tough for me to admit to the world. I have been going to a twelve-step program to help prevent this addiction. I have a Dissociative Disorder where I "go away" for a while during high stress times. It is a mechanism the mind uses to block out terrible things on it's own while they are happening, and when a memory comes in as a flashback sometimes the same dissociative action automatically takes place. I have used self-harm; cutting, hitting as a way to feel something other than the agony of deep depression. If I can see a cut or a bruise and feel a physical pain, I know it is one I can address and take care of. I have since learned new skills in dealing with outside influences with different behaviors. I was in the hospital in June because I had used self harm to a dangerous extent.
I am thankful that my friends got me to the hospital inspite of my telling them I was okay. No one ever saw my legs except my doctor or my friend that may have seen them in the emergency room. I didn't feel any pain until I was admitted and was kept safe from self harm in the hospital. Then the real deep down pain of the bruising started.
While in the hospital I was taken off of 300mg of Effexor, cold turkey. Instant withdrawal began. I shook for three weeks. The self harm had scared me so bad that I vowed never to do such a thing again. I don't know if going on the vitamins and minerals will help curb this desire or addiction. I know that it is during depression and my wanting to feel anything that has caused me to engage in this behavior. This is a behavior associated with Borderline Personality. I do not have the disorder but I do have this one addictive trait.
Talk about putting your dirty laundry out for all to see! Why would I do such a thing? I guess because it is a part of my mental make-up. One of my symptoms even if I do bring it upon myself. One of the stages I mentioned a couple of days ago talked about waking up and feeling regret for past wrongdoing. I may live to truly regret ever mentioning this. But I can say that after my experience in June and with the help of a twelve-step meeting through my church I have been, "clean and sober" since July 1, 2009 of this behavior.
I am hoping 2010 is the year I get the rest of my life back.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Source of Vitamins & Minerals
I felt well yesterday until about 9 p.m. when I started shaking and had a headache. I wasn't sure if it was from withdrawal, low blood sugar or over-medication. I am diabetic, so it may have been low blood sugar, but over-medication is a possibility. I slept for 12 hours.
With this new treatment, as a person starts feeling better, the supplement feeding needed vitamins and minerals to the brain, increases the effects of the psychotropic medications. When that happens it is time to reduce such medication (this is of course not intended as medical advice).
For those who are unfamiliar with this blog, it is a journal of my transition from said psychotropic drugs for depression and Bi-Polar Disorder to mega doses of vitamins, minerals and amino acids. The supplements have been proven to restore healthy function to the brain that those with Bi-Polar disorder and depression are lacking. One study on rats showed two rats that had damaged frontal lobes. One rat was fed regular meal while the other was given increased vitamins and minerals and the brain was improved.
There are clinical studies being done in the U.S. and Canada. Psychiatrists and scientists are beginning to recognize the benefits of this treatment. It is one that treats the cause of the disorder rather than the symptoms. This treatment is explained in the 2005 issue of Discover magazine and was featured in an episode of Discovery Health.
I began this journey January 1 of this year. Just another guinea pig. But aren't we all who are on the latest medications for our disorders? I have been on Wellbutrin and Effexor for a good ten years. The body builds up an immunity to different drugs. I am also on Clonazapam, Lamictal, Geodon and have recently been on Ativan (which ceased working in November) and Zanax which I was able to get off of. I have been reducing Clonazapam gradually. Monday I will most likely be given direction on reducing this further.
I have purposely not given the source of the vitamins and minerals because I am not related to the company and not a spokesperson and I also don't want to get in trouble for directing or misdirecting people. But at this point I feel a responsibility to those who suffer as I do and want anyone who does so to have access to the products I am using. Go to Truehope.com for more information. There is the episode of Discovery Health available to view at the website and testimonials also.
The product, EMPower+ was developed by two men, one of which was desperate to find help for Bi-Polar and depression after the death of his wife to suicide. The father of ten children, two of which had Bi-Polar disorder, one of them suicidal, this man wanted to prevent further death from mental illness. According to at least one source the mortality rate for Bi-Polar disorder is one in five. The co-founder was a feed salesman and knew how to cure ear and tail biting syndrome in pigs: vitamins and minerals. A human version was created and administered to the widower's two children. They have been symptom-free for years now.
Anyway... if you go to the website you can learn about it. Or read the Discover magazine article in their May 2005 issue.
This blog is simply a record of my progress. I am not shaking today. My headache is gone and I am feeling fine. Looking forward to another good day. I meet with my psychologist and psychiatrist this week who are monitoring my progress. Have a great day. See you tomorrow.
With this new treatment, as a person starts feeling better, the supplement feeding needed vitamins and minerals to the brain, increases the effects of the psychotropic medications. When that happens it is time to reduce such medication (this is of course not intended as medical advice).
For those who are unfamiliar with this blog, it is a journal of my transition from said psychotropic drugs for depression and Bi-Polar Disorder to mega doses of vitamins, minerals and amino acids. The supplements have been proven to restore healthy function to the brain that those with Bi-Polar disorder and depression are lacking. One study on rats showed two rats that had damaged frontal lobes. One rat was fed regular meal while the other was given increased vitamins and minerals and the brain was improved.
There are clinical studies being done in the U.S. and Canada. Psychiatrists and scientists are beginning to recognize the benefits of this treatment. It is one that treats the cause of the disorder rather than the symptoms. This treatment is explained in the 2005 issue of Discover magazine and was featured in an episode of Discovery Health.
I began this journey January 1 of this year. Just another guinea pig. But aren't we all who are on the latest medications for our disorders? I have been on Wellbutrin and Effexor for a good ten years. The body builds up an immunity to different drugs. I am also on Clonazapam, Lamictal, Geodon and have recently been on Ativan (which ceased working in November) and Zanax which I was able to get off of. I have been reducing Clonazapam gradually. Monday I will most likely be given direction on reducing this further.
I have purposely not given the source of the vitamins and minerals because I am not related to the company and not a spokesperson and I also don't want to get in trouble for directing or misdirecting people. But at this point I feel a responsibility to those who suffer as I do and want anyone who does so to have access to the products I am using. Go to Truehope.com for more information. There is the episode of Discovery Health available to view at the website and testimonials also.
The product, EMPower+ was developed by two men, one of which was desperate to find help for Bi-Polar and depression after the death of his wife to suicide. The father of ten children, two of which had Bi-Polar disorder, one of them suicidal, this man wanted to prevent further death from mental illness. According to at least one source the mortality rate for Bi-Polar disorder is one in five. The co-founder was a feed salesman and knew how to cure ear and tail biting syndrome in pigs: vitamins and minerals. A human version was created and administered to the widower's two children. They have been symptom-free for years now.
Anyway... if you go to the website you can learn about it. Or read the Discover magazine article in their May 2005 issue.
This blog is simply a record of my progress. I am not shaking today. My headache is gone and I am feeling fine. Looking forward to another good day. I meet with my psychologist and psychiatrist this week who are monitoring my progress. Have a great day. See you tomorrow.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Haiti Changes Disposition
Today I went to the "Y" then got home and primed our kitchen walls for painting them a soft butter yellow. We are finishing remodeling to sell our house. A bit overwhelming to be finishing projects that we have always wanted done, but have put off. Someone else will be enjoying our spa-like bathroom and sunny kitchen.
Today has been good so far. I'm a little nauseated but mostly good. I can handle good. Right now there are 50,000 people dead in Haiti and countless others homeless, injured, hungry and grieving. How can I complain? How can I try to measure how I am doing while aftershocks are rocking their home and not mine?
Today has been good. Tonight I go to a District Dinner for the River Valley District, in the Mississippi Valley Council of the Boy Scouts of America. I'm sure to be fed.
Today is good.
I wish it were so for so many others.
Today has been good so far. I'm a little nauseated but mostly good. I can handle good. Right now there are 50,000 people dead in Haiti and countless others homeless, injured, hungry and grieving. How can I complain? How can I try to measure how I am doing while aftershocks are rocking their home and not mine?
Today has been good. Tonight I go to a District Dinner for the River Valley District, in the Mississippi Valley Council of the Boy Scouts of America. I'm sure to be fed.
Today is good.
I wish it were so for so many others.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Different Stages, Different Goals
I woke up at 6 this morning and lounged until 6:30. Then I paid bills which is usually something my husband takes care of. I used to do it a long long time ago before my mental illness fully began taking over my life.
There are many things I used to do before my first serious case of severe clinical depression. I worked as a commercial graphic artist and art director for a book and magazine publishing company. I worked for five different newspapers, the last of which I filed a lawsuit against for discrimination when I was dismissed due to mental health issues which is against the law. The EEOC entered the matter and we settled out of court. It wasn't huge, it took a long time and the settlement in no way made up for the time and wages lost or the plummet of my self esteem. It was during this time that I went on disability.
My diagnoses are Bi-Polar Disorder, Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Dissociative Identity Disorder, and Borderline Personality traits. In college, which took in total took me 4 1/2 years to get a 2-year degree, I had a speech class wherein I spoke on Mental illness, having surveyed the class through a questionaire asking such things as, "do you think you could spot a person with a mental disorder within five minutes of talking to them?" Ninety five percent believed that they could. By the end of my speech I let them know that I had these illnesses, and not one of them had a clue of the life I was leading. It was like climbing mount Everest nearly every single day. But they were shocked.
I always had a dream to be a psychologist. But taking nearly five years to get an associate's degree...c'mon. Now I have opened that door of possibility. I am 47 years old however, going on to get a bachelor's, masters and then Ph.D....I don't know. How old would I be? If I were well, this is something that could be doable. I must get well. There are too many dreams to fulfill.
It has been a tough road, and all of it has been under medication and supervision of psychiatrists and psychologists. It is time to take my life back. At the rate I was going I was running out of options as far as medication treatments were concerned. I have learned though that there are stages of this treatment wherein I might wish I was totally overmedicated.
In stage one comes the decrease of most of the most serious symptoms such as rapid cycling, hearing voices or other hallucinations, toxicity or feeling of withdrawal or overmedicated.
Stage two doesn't sound too much better: this is where the participant is described as "waking up" only to find themselves facing their previous behaviors that appear embarrassing in retrospect. Marriage dynamics, guilt over previous acts, some face financial and family problems.
Maybe I'm trying to be all "Mary Sunshine" but I really want to wake up and smell the coffee. This stage is also described as a time when some would like to return to medication and possibly hospitalization due to the emotional upheaval.
Knowing what to expect gives me a heads up and something I can look at and see where I fit in these stages. I know I am a capable person. I feel I have been relocated to a second-class life standing due to my illnesses and ability to deal with these things with what the medical community has had to offer. I am so excited about this breakthrough which gives me hope.
When I come out on the other side, and my illness goes into "remission" I will revisit my goals and press forward.
There are many things I used to do before my first serious case of severe clinical depression. I worked as a commercial graphic artist and art director for a book and magazine publishing company. I worked for five different newspapers, the last of which I filed a lawsuit against for discrimination when I was dismissed due to mental health issues which is against the law. The EEOC entered the matter and we settled out of court. It wasn't huge, it took a long time and the settlement in no way made up for the time and wages lost or the plummet of my self esteem. It was during this time that I went on disability.
My diagnoses are Bi-Polar Disorder, Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Dissociative Identity Disorder, and Borderline Personality traits. In college, which took in total took me 4 1/2 years to get a 2-year degree, I had a speech class wherein I spoke on Mental illness, having surveyed the class through a questionaire asking such things as, "do you think you could spot a person with a mental disorder within five minutes of talking to them?" Ninety five percent believed that they could. By the end of my speech I let them know that I had these illnesses, and not one of them had a clue of the life I was leading. It was like climbing mount Everest nearly every single day. But they were shocked.
I always had a dream to be a psychologist. But taking nearly five years to get an associate's degree...c'mon. Now I have opened that door of possibility. I am 47 years old however, going on to get a bachelor's, masters and then Ph.D....I don't know. How old would I be? If I were well, this is something that could be doable. I must get well. There are too many dreams to fulfill.
It has been a tough road, and all of it has been under medication and supervision of psychiatrists and psychologists. It is time to take my life back. At the rate I was going I was running out of options as far as medication treatments were concerned. I have learned though that there are stages of this treatment wherein I might wish I was totally overmedicated.
In stage one comes the decrease of most of the most serious symptoms such as rapid cycling, hearing voices or other hallucinations, toxicity or feeling of withdrawal or overmedicated.
Stage two doesn't sound too much better: this is where the participant is described as "waking up" only to find themselves facing their previous behaviors that appear embarrassing in retrospect. Marriage dynamics, guilt over previous acts, some face financial and family problems.
Maybe I'm trying to be all "Mary Sunshine" but I really want to wake up and smell the coffee. This stage is also described as a time when some would like to return to medication and possibly hospitalization due to the emotional upheaval.
Knowing what to expect gives me a heads up and something I can look at and see where I fit in these stages. I know I am a capable person. I feel I have been relocated to a second-class life standing due to my illnesses and ability to deal with these things with what the medical community has had to offer. I am so excited about this breakthrough which gives me hope.
When I come out on the other side, and my illness goes into "remission" I will revisit my goals and press forward.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Symptom Evaluation
I went back to bed after typing yesterday morning's blog and I rested, thinking that would be it for the day. I wanted to sleep through any tough parts of the day. After about an hour I started feeling remarkably better, got up and started doing regular, everyday things; making necessary phone calls for a mural I am needing to do, cancelling an appointment, setting up a photo shoot for images for the mural.
Right now my body feels like lead is coursing through my veins. Very sluggish but I had no shaking last night. Yesterday morning I felt a little like lead also. How do I describe feeling like lead? My joints hurt and my movements are slow. I don't know how this relates to side effects, but I did feel the same way for a little while yesterday. Once my regular meds kicked in I started feeling better. So we will see how it goes today.
There is a little feeling of loss of energy today. I have a symptom evaluation form that I fill out daily listing different symptoms of bi-polar disorder to rate on a scale of 0 to 3, three being the worst. These help the participant see accurately just where they are on the chart and when to get help immediately. The list includes such symptoms as: feeling worthless, helpless or hopeless; sleeping more or less than usual; hard to concentrate or decide; avoiding other people;loss of energy, feeling very tired; hyperactivity or racing thoughts etc. Loss of energy is a 2, sleeping more or less than usual would be a 1 because if I didn't have to go somewhere I would be curling up in the bed right now.
On the evaluation sheet there is a place to track my medications and what dosages. This is so that over time I can see my progress. It is going to take a long long time to get through this. Hopefully this transition will take less than a year, but if not my journal will go on.
This morning I have an appointment in Iowa City with my Psychologist. Last week I was enjoying my first normal day. I think this day will get better. I know I've been through worse. My husband is driving which is probably the best thing.
Last night my husband said to me, "It's good to have you back today." He always knows when I am "myself" or when the illness is more prevalent. It was good to be back. I'm looking forward to more days like that.
Right now my body feels like lead is coursing through my veins. Very sluggish but I had no shaking last night. Yesterday morning I felt a little like lead also. How do I describe feeling like lead? My joints hurt and my movements are slow. I don't know how this relates to side effects, but I did feel the same way for a little while yesterday. Once my regular meds kicked in I started feeling better. So we will see how it goes today.
There is a little feeling of loss of energy today. I have a symptom evaluation form that I fill out daily listing different symptoms of bi-polar disorder to rate on a scale of 0 to 3, three being the worst. These help the participant see accurately just where they are on the chart and when to get help immediately. The list includes such symptoms as: feeling worthless, helpless or hopeless; sleeping more or less than usual; hard to concentrate or decide; avoiding other people;loss of energy, feeling very tired; hyperactivity or racing thoughts etc. Loss of energy is a 2, sleeping more or less than usual would be a 1 because if I didn't have to go somewhere I would be curling up in the bed right now.
On the evaluation sheet there is a place to track my medications and what dosages. This is so that over time I can see my progress. It is going to take a long long time to get through this. Hopefully this transition will take less than a year, but if not my journal will go on.
This morning I have an appointment in Iowa City with my Psychologist. Last week I was enjoying my first normal day. I think this day will get better. I know I've been through worse. My husband is driving which is probably the best thing.
Last night my husband said to me, "It's good to have you back today." He always knows when I am "myself" or when the illness is more prevalent. It was good to be back. I'm looking forward to more days like that.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Withdrawal
Last night was spent shaking mostly. I just hang on the the hope of more normal days in the future. This morning I feel better, but tenative. I'm not sure how long I can go today without shaking. I talked with my counselor about the medication reduction and I'll call back on Monday. I'll stay where I am at for now.
The problem with withdrawal is not so much the shaking but the whole feeling of hopelessness and wanting to wake up from the nightmare. It's like I'm stuck between a rock and hard place. I can't resign myself to staying on medication that is such a balancing act, but I can barely tolerate the withdrawal. Back in October due to a medication interaction while on my way to my doctor appointment, I had the overwhelming urge to turn my steering wheel into oncoming traffic. Within a split second I realized that it wasn't my own thought, but something was radically wrong. I told my doctor what happened and he had his receptionist walk me to the emergency wing of the medical center and I was admitted for medication adjustment. That wasn't in my plan for the day.
I have other plans. I plan on having a life not hemmed in by regulated medication. The vitamins and minerals treatment has an 86 percent success rate. I have not had any side effects due to the supplements and I have had a couple of normal days. I live for those. Being able to feel normal is like having a carrot in front of my nose. I won't rest until I'm on the other side of this.
One thing about me that is both a strength and a weakness is the fact that I am stubborn. It is just what I need to keep me going. That and a huge dose of faith and prayer.
The problem with withdrawal is not so much the shaking but the whole feeling of hopelessness and wanting to wake up from the nightmare. It's like I'm stuck between a rock and hard place. I can't resign myself to staying on medication that is such a balancing act, but I can barely tolerate the withdrawal. Back in October due to a medication interaction while on my way to my doctor appointment, I had the overwhelming urge to turn my steering wheel into oncoming traffic. Within a split second I realized that it wasn't my own thought, but something was radically wrong. I told my doctor what happened and he had his receptionist walk me to the emergency wing of the medical center and I was admitted for medication adjustment. That wasn't in my plan for the day.
I have other plans. I plan on having a life not hemmed in by regulated medication. The vitamins and minerals treatment has an 86 percent success rate. I have not had any side effects due to the supplements and I have had a couple of normal days. I live for those. Being able to feel normal is like having a carrot in front of my nose. I won't rest until I'm on the other side of this.
One thing about me that is both a strength and a weakness is the fact that I am stubborn. It is just what I need to keep me going. That and a huge dose of faith and prayer.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
It Isn't Going to be a Cakewalk
It is obvious to me that this isn't going to be a cakewalk. Remember those? I won a cake once, it was fun. The phrase, "isn't going to be a cakewalk" was coined by one familiar with the county fair-type game. There was excitement as the music played and participants walked around in a circle hoping to land on the square that was designated the cake spot. Each step bringing you closer to the prize.
I guess this is closer to being a cakewalk than I thought. The same rules apply but the circle is a calendar and each square brings you closer to the prize. The difference is that there isn't the happy music playing and each square has it's own surprises. The surprise for me Sunday was shaking. The surprise for Monday was depression.
Today I feel level. A little shaky but not as bad as Sunday. I was able to titrate down on my meds once more. Going through withdrawal is not unfamiliar territory. Withdrawal has always been from changing prescription meds under the eye of a physician, not trying to become clean on my own. Knowing the process makes it mentally easier to go through it. I'm not doing this on my own either, I'm just doing it more often. I can take the shaking, and yesterday while I felt depressed I recognized it as all part of the process and not the end of everything good.
It has been a little stressful however. We are in the process of moving and getting the house ready to sell is a little overwhelming. I guess I'll take it just one square at a time. I'll get through this.
I guess this is closer to being a cakewalk than I thought. The same rules apply but the circle is a calendar and each square brings you closer to the prize. The difference is that there isn't the happy music playing and each square has it's own surprises. The surprise for me Sunday was shaking. The surprise for Monday was depression.
Today I feel level. A little shaky but not as bad as Sunday. I was able to titrate down on my meds once more. Going through withdrawal is not unfamiliar territory. Withdrawal has always been from changing prescription meds under the eye of a physician, not trying to become clean on my own. Knowing the process makes it mentally easier to go through it. I'm not doing this on my own either, I'm just doing it more often. I can take the shaking, and yesterday while I felt depressed I recognized it as all part of the process and not the end of everything good.
It has been a little stressful however. We are in the process of moving and getting the house ready to sell is a little overwhelming. I guess I'll take it just one square at a time. I'll get through this.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
A Down Day Getting Better
The words, "If I die before you..." came out of my mouth this morning. Shaking yesterday, feeling down today, the idea of a long life feels so undoable. With the way my family dies off early, my parents, grandparents, my mom's five sisters and one uncle on my dad's side are gone. Ages 30, 56, 66, 60, 75 and so forth. My mom lived to be 80. She passed away two years ago March 8th and my dad will have been gone 11 years ago March 11th.
My aunt Peggy lived to be 78 (long for our family) and she was born with a hole in her heart. One of the first few people to ever have open-heart surgery. They didn't think she would make it to the age of five. And she longed to die after many surgeries. I remember the day of my dad's funeral (he was 66), she said, "that should be me laying there, not your dad." I use her as my example of enduring to the end. She had it so tough. If she could make it, I have to make it.
I'm only 47. That's young compared to some people. I know people my daughter's age wouldn't look at it that way. I have no plans on ending it. It is just tiring when the depression hits, knowing that this road I have chosen, an alternative to psychotropic drugs, is not going to be quick or painless.
The upswing of this day is that I can remember the two or three days of feeling "normal" as sunshine in my week. I can remember the chair I was sitting in, the room I was looking around and the feeling of rest. Hopefully I will have more experiences that will help me through these darker days. I have experienced a few of these good days and now I have some point of reference.
I worked on my first-aid kit yesterday. I got a pair of soft red socks with white snowflakes on them imbued with shea butter (somehow) and I put those in the box. They were the most luxurious thing I could think of. My daughter gave me tea sampler packets and so after having a cup of raspberry herbal tea, sweetened and with milk, I put all the packets into the box. Also in the box, which is one of those huge hinged boxes that look like a large book, I put in a journal and basswood pen. I do some of my most helpful journaling when I am feeling down. It is helpful at the time, but will be ripped out later. Some of it anyway. I plan to put in some of my favorite children's illustrations for the box also.
I didn't want to write this today, but am trying to maintain a regular routine to keep me from falling into spending the day in bed which would be easy to do especially on cold mornings like this. I have a few set "rules" for my day. Get up, make the bed, open the shades of the bedroom to bring in the sunshine, do a load of laundry and wash dishes. When I am doing fair, I call that a successful day. Sometimes I remember to make the bed, and throw in some laundry. Other days I can do more. So adding this journaling to my day gives me a good start. The bed is made, the window shades are open. It's sunny. Bob beat me to the laundry and dishes. There were only two plates since breakfast.
Yesterday I did some joint-compounding around a part of a wall in the kitchen that needed repair, I sorted clothes that soon will be packed, washed clothes, and baked a double batch of chocolate chip cookies from my mom's recipe. I had to contain myself. I've gained weight over the holidays so I kept my hands off all but two of them. Okay, I may have had some dough..:)
I won't be writing tomorrow morning but maybe tomorrow night.
I'm feeling better already. This can turn out to be a good thing.
My aunt Peggy lived to be 78 (long for our family) and she was born with a hole in her heart. One of the first few people to ever have open-heart surgery. They didn't think she would make it to the age of five. And she longed to die after many surgeries. I remember the day of my dad's funeral (he was 66), she said, "that should be me laying there, not your dad." I use her as my example of enduring to the end. She had it so tough. If she could make it, I have to make it.
I'm only 47. That's young compared to some people. I know people my daughter's age wouldn't look at it that way. I have no plans on ending it. It is just tiring when the depression hits, knowing that this road I have chosen, an alternative to psychotropic drugs, is not going to be quick or painless.
The upswing of this day is that I can remember the two or three days of feeling "normal" as sunshine in my week. I can remember the chair I was sitting in, the room I was looking around and the feeling of rest. Hopefully I will have more experiences that will help me through these darker days. I have experienced a few of these good days and now I have some point of reference.
I worked on my first-aid kit yesterday. I got a pair of soft red socks with white snowflakes on them imbued with shea butter (somehow) and I put those in the box. They were the most luxurious thing I could think of. My daughter gave me tea sampler packets and so after having a cup of raspberry herbal tea, sweetened and with milk, I put all the packets into the box. Also in the box, which is one of those huge hinged boxes that look like a large book, I put in a journal and basswood pen. I do some of my most helpful journaling when I am feeling down. It is helpful at the time, but will be ripped out later. Some of it anyway. I plan to put in some of my favorite children's illustrations for the box also.
I didn't want to write this today, but am trying to maintain a regular routine to keep me from falling into spending the day in bed which would be easy to do especially on cold mornings like this. I have a few set "rules" for my day. Get up, make the bed, open the shades of the bedroom to bring in the sunshine, do a load of laundry and wash dishes. When I am doing fair, I call that a successful day. Sometimes I remember to make the bed, and throw in some laundry. Other days I can do more. So adding this journaling to my day gives me a good start. The bed is made, the window shades are open. It's sunny. Bob beat me to the laundry and dishes. There were only two plates since breakfast.
Yesterday I did some joint-compounding around a part of a wall in the kitchen that needed repair, I sorted clothes that soon will be packed, washed clothes, and baked a double batch of chocolate chip cookies from my mom's recipe. I had to contain myself. I've gained weight over the holidays so I kept my hands off all but two of them. Okay, I may have had some dough..:)
I won't be writing tomorrow morning but maybe tomorrow night.
I'm feeling better already. This can turn out to be a good thing.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
The First-aid Kit
It looks like the sun is going to shine here again today. We've had temperatures in the teens and lower with blowing and drifting of snow. But when the sun shines the land sparkles like diamonds.
Day nine in my transition from psych meds to vit. and min. supplements.
I feel okay. A little nauseated but not too bad. That is one of the side effects or maybe just getting a little sick. I'm not feeling great today, but it is tons better than a few weeks and months ago. It could be a regular upswing, but I have had too many good consecutive days with the new supplement regimen to find it coincidental. Could it be a placebo effect? I sincerely hope not.
I don't want to dwell in any way on the negative today. I think I will work on my self-soothing first-aid kit. My doctor asked if I had one and I had not heard of it before. I've learned of having positive and negative containment boxes, but not a first-aid kit.
The first-aid kit is personal and is to be used when feeling down or depressed. It can have such things in it as tea packets, soft socks, a good book, affirmations, poetry, beautiful pictures or illustrations. All things that give you a warm feeling to uplift during times of distress. I mentioned a couple days ago that during this time of feeling well is the time for writing down all of the positive things so I can look back at them and know that I will feel good again even if I fall into a pit psychologically for a time.
Some of the blessings and great things in this life for me are my family and good friends, My Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ, my Redeemer. Days of sunshine, my daughter whose nickname is Sunshine, (or Boo, but that might embarass her :)), my husband who so truly loves me. Our cat Missy who likes to crawl in bed with me in the morning to get her tummy rubbed. She has never really learned how to purr, but she's getting closer, a little louder every once in a while. That makes me smile.
I should be sitting here with a cup of tea, or warm milk with Italian Sweet Cream added, or hot cocoa. Instead, I'm relatively warm since my husband wrapped me in his insulated shirt and a fluffy blanket to keep me warm in our old farm house. These are the kinds of things that are in the scale of a full day, miniscule in the time it takes, but so sweet, how can I not feel his love for me.
My plans for the day, besides creating my first-aid kit, are to go to the Y, to get some healthy endorphins going. This new treatment cautions agains using strenuous large muscle group exercises like running or doing the cross ramp eliptical that I normally use. Rather it is recommended that participants either walk or swim. The reason to avoid over use of large muscles such as the thighs too intensly is that it releases toxins into the body from years of medication that may result in post withdrawal symptoms. The toxins will eventually leave the tissues, but it may take years. I want this to be as smooth and pain free as possible, therefore I plan to heed this advice and swim. There is something so soothing about being immersed, sound muffled and feeling your body work through the water. That sounds like a plan.
I have packing to do today and some home repairs. Just thinking of the good things gives me a little boost to get off my. . . chair and get something done!
Have a great day.
Day nine in my transition from psych meds to vit. and min. supplements.
I feel okay. A little nauseated but not too bad. That is one of the side effects or maybe just getting a little sick. I'm not feeling great today, but it is tons better than a few weeks and months ago. It could be a regular upswing, but I have had too many good consecutive days with the new supplement regimen to find it coincidental. Could it be a placebo effect? I sincerely hope not.
I don't want to dwell in any way on the negative today. I think I will work on my self-soothing first-aid kit. My doctor asked if I had one and I had not heard of it before. I've learned of having positive and negative containment boxes, but not a first-aid kit.
The first-aid kit is personal and is to be used when feeling down or depressed. It can have such things in it as tea packets, soft socks, a good book, affirmations, poetry, beautiful pictures or illustrations. All things that give you a warm feeling to uplift during times of distress. I mentioned a couple days ago that during this time of feeling well is the time for writing down all of the positive things so I can look back at them and know that I will feel good again even if I fall into a pit psychologically for a time.
Some of the blessings and great things in this life for me are my family and good friends, My Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ, my Redeemer. Days of sunshine, my daughter whose nickname is Sunshine, (or Boo, but that might embarass her :)), my husband who so truly loves me. Our cat Missy who likes to crawl in bed with me in the morning to get her tummy rubbed. She has never really learned how to purr, but she's getting closer, a little louder every once in a while. That makes me smile.
I should be sitting here with a cup of tea, or warm milk with Italian Sweet Cream added, or hot cocoa. Instead, I'm relatively warm since my husband wrapped me in his insulated shirt and a fluffy blanket to keep me warm in our old farm house. These are the kinds of things that are in the scale of a full day, miniscule in the time it takes, but so sweet, how can I not feel his love for me.
My plans for the day, besides creating my first-aid kit, are to go to the Y, to get some healthy endorphins going. This new treatment cautions agains using strenuous large muscle group exercises like running or doing the cross ramp eliptical that I normally use. Rather it is recommended that participants either walk or swim. The reason to avoid over use of large muscles such as the thighs too intensly is that it releases toxins into the body from years of medication that may result in post withdrawal symptoms. The toxins will eventually leave the tissues, but it may take years. I want this to be as smooth and pain free as possible, therefore I plan to heed this advice and swim. There is something so soothing about being immersed, sound muffled and feeling your body work through the water. That sounds like a plan.
I have packing to do today and some home repairs. Just thinking of the good things gives me a little boost to get off my. . . chair and get something done!
Have a great day.
Friday, January 8, 2010
What "Normal" feels like
Ahhh. Yesterday and today I feel "normal". Now most people will say, "what is normal? there is no normal." Yes there is. Every person has their own "normal." Otherwise we would not use phrases such as, "I feel a little out of sorts", "I just don't feel like myself today." "I am beside myself." We each know when we feel good, bad or just so.
"Normal" is totally under-rated. Normal is epic to someone with Bi-Polar disorder.
Yesterday morning as I sat at this computer, had some hot cocoa (yes John, it runs in the family), and I didn't have thoughts of what I had to plan for the day as distractions from my feelings. I didn't need to plan self soothing activities, make sure I was going to go work out, feel the need to super-clean, or breathe in for four breaths and out for six or any of these things as distractions to wrench myself out of anxiety.
I had an appointment with my Psychologist yesterday morning. She was amazed at my lack of anxiety. Living with Bi-Polar Disorder is an intense 24/7 job. Getting from moment to moment, second by second. I was able to sit and talk, without anxiety, and she commented on the fact that all I had been doing for months and months had been working, trying to maintain some sense of balance and had not been having too much success at it. It is tiring. I was able to "be in the moment", a technique we strive to acheive with dialectical behavioral therapy. One of the many many coping skills needed to distract. Imagry, self talk, grounding, wise mind, radical acceptance..just a few that have to be employed in distress tolerance to deal with life. I was free to think, look around and feel..normal.
This is the second day of normal for me. How wonderful. I know there are things to do around the house, but I don't feel compelled to do them. I have a choice. I'm pretty sure there is a good possibility of having the time to do them. Not a guarantee, but its possible.
There are some who think, and may(?) be right, that one chooses to be depressed or manic. Why would anyone ever choose either of these options? There are different degrees of depression as well as mania, mild to severe. At any level there are problems. Most people, I believe, do not want any of them. What is hard to understand is why someone doesn't choose to get help. I think it stems from the stigma surrounding mental illness. This is 2010. There are so many advances in medicine, and now with vitamins and minerals, people need to be informed, not worried about what people might think.
I have literally been asked, "don't you just feel weak, I mean, why don't you just pull yourself up by your own boot straps and snap out of it?" Literally. All I wanted to snap at that point was their neck. The phrase, "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" ages the person saying it. What bootstraps? Okay, I'm not a cowboy. Do we live in the 1800's or early 1900's? If there is going to be anything to pull ourselves up by, let's at least think of something more current.
As for me, today is great. You have a good day. Don't let the novelty of the everyday feeling of "fine" be lost upon you. I will talk to you tomorrow.
"Normal" is totally under-rated. Normal is epic to someone with Bi-Polar disorder.
Yesterday morning as I sat at this computer, had some hot cocoa (yes John, it runs in the family), and I didn't have thoughts of what I had to plan for the day as distractions from my feelings. I didn't need to plan self soothing activities, make sure I was going to go work out, feel the need to super-clean, or breathe in for four breaths and out for six or any of these things as distractions to wrench myself out of anxiety.
I had an appointment with my Psychologist yesterday morning. She was amazed at my lack of anxiety. Living with Bi-Polar Disorder is an intense 24/7 job. Getting from moment to moment, second by second. I was able to sit and talk, without anxiety, and she commented on the fact that all I had been doing for months and months had been working, trying to maintain some sense of balance and had not been having too much success at it. It is tiring. I was able to "be in the moment", a technique we strive to acheive with dialectical behavioral therapy. One of the many many coping skills needed to distract. Imagry, self talk, grounding, wise mind, radical acceptance..just a few that have to be employed in distress tolerance to deal with life. I was free to think, look around and feel..normal.
This is the second day of normal for me. How wonderful. I know there are things to do around the house, but I don't feel compelled to do them. I have a choice. I'm pretty sure there is a good possibility of having the time to do them. Not a guarantee, but its possible.
There are some who think, and may(?) be right, that one chooses to be depressed or manic. Why would anyone ever choose either of these options? There are different degrees of depression as well as mania, mild to severe. At any level there are problems. Most people, I believe, do not want any of them. What is hard to understand is why someone doesn't choose to get help. I think it stems from the stigma surrounding mental illness. This is 2010. There are so many advances in medicine, and now with vitamins and minerals, people need to be informed, not worried about what people might think.
I have literally been asked, "don't you just feel weak, I mean, why don't you just pull yourself up by your own boot straps and snap out of it?" Literally. All I wanted to snap at that point was their neck. The phrase, "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" ages the person saying it. What bootstraps? Okay, I'm not a cowboy. Do we live in the 1800's or early 1900's? If there is going to be anything to pull ourselves up by, let's at least think of something more current.
As for me, today is great. You have a good day. Don't let the novelty of the everyday feeling of "fine" be lost upon you. I will talk to you tomorrow.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The Truth About Depression
Yesterday was the first day in at least nine months that I did not think about death.
That is HUGE! I am feeling better! The new vitamins, minerals and amino acids seem to be working. Now is the time to write a letter to myself giving all the reasons to hang on to life. Because after night comes the morning. I need to write the letter or better yet a poster of all the good things in this life. Family, snowmen :), hugs, friends and the truth that the depression of the time will pass. I need to write down what others have told me, what they think are my good qualities so I can read them. Reading what someone else believes about me, might help me believe it all too, rather than writing my own affirmations. I want to come out on the end of this thing and endure to the end.
You've probably heard that unless you have had serious clinical depression you can't fathom it's devastation. The truth is that even when you have been through numerous bouts of depression, when you feel good, you can't remember how horrible that felt either. The opposite is also true in that when you are in depression you cannot even remember what normal, good or any good feeling that you have ever had feels like. You cannot feel love or that there is a reason to keep making the effort even when your loved ones tell you how important you are to them.
I remember going through one tough time when I could not understand laughter, the mechanics of it. I heard my husband and daughter laughing downstairs and so I went down and sat with them. I was trying to figure out what was causing this feeling of which I was bereft. It is a wrenching physical pain attached to the mental that becomes the forefront. But that is not where I am today, Thank God. I can put the words down as to what depression CAN and DOES feel like but I cannot feel it myself at this time and so I say THANK GOD!
If you have someone in your life who talks of ending it, ceases to care about life's details, simple acts of caring for oneself, who has lost interest in their normal activities and hobbies, family or job, can't sleep for days or sleeps constantly, has no hope, change in eating habits, lack of appetite, food lacks taste or they just can't eat, please take them to the emergency room. Someone once asked me what another person's role is when someone they know talks of suicide. I told them they have MORAL OBLIGATION to take that person seriously and do everything they can to get them help. No one who is healthy has these thoughts. They may have a passing wish that life were easier, but death is not an option or thought.
There is a Pueblo verse that says, "Hold on to what is good, even if it is a handful of earth. And hold on to what you believe, even if it is a tree which stands by itself. Hold on to what you must do, even if it is a long way from here. Hold on to life, even when it is easier to let go. Hold on to my hand, even when I have gone away from you." I know that I am never alone. That is the one truth that through all times I have clung to. I know I have a Heavenly Father who loves me and His Son Jesus Christ knows me personally and with that knowlege I cannot give up hope.
Being on this side of the fence, feeling normal for me, having actual hope for the future in spite of the recession and political upheaval, I want to keep going. I'm not feeling manic. I feel peaceful and want to move on and feel this way on a long-term basis. This new treatment and those supervising it have warned me that it was not going to be easy. I am gearing up for that, but today as yesterday, I am basking in this feeling. I can sit and ponder the beauty of this day. This moment because I don't know how long it will last. But I have it now and it feels wonderful.
That is HUGE! I am feeling better! The new vitamins, minerals and amino acids seem to be working. Now is the time to write a letter to myself giving all the reasons to hang on to life. Because after night comes the morning. I need to write the letter or better yet a poster of all the good things in this life. Family, snowmen :), hugs, friends and the truth that the depression of the time will pass. I need to write down what others have told me, what they think are my good qualities so I can read them. Reading what someone else believes about me, might help me believe it all too, rather than writing my own affirmations. I want to come out on the end of this thing and endure to the end.
You've probably heard that unless you have had serious clinical depression you can't fathom it's devastation. The truth is that even when you have been through numerous bouts of depression, when you feel good, you can't remember how horrible that felt either. The opposite is also true in that when you are in depression you cannot even remember what normal, good or any good feeling that you have ever had feels like. You cannot feel love or that there is a reason to keep making the effort even when your loved ones tell you how important you are to them.
I remember going through one tough time when I could not understand laughter, the mechanics of it. I heard my husband and daughter laughing downstairs and so I went down and sat with them. I was trying to figure out what was causing this feeling of which I was bereft. It is a wrenching physical pain attached to the mental that becomes the forefront. But that is not where I am today, Thank God. I can put the words down as to what depression CAN and DOES feel like but I cannot feel it myself at this time and so I say THANK GOD!
If you have someone in your life who talks of ending it, ceases to care about life's details, simple acts of caring for oneself, who has lost interest in their normal activities and hobbies, family or job, can't sleep for days or sleeps constantly, has no hope, change in eating habits, lack of appetite, food lacks taste or they just can't eat, please take them to the emergency room. Someone once asked me what another person's role is when someone they know talks of suicide. I told them they have MORAL OBLIGATION to take that person seriously and do everything they can to get them help. No one who is healthy has these thoughts. They may have a passing wish that life were easier, but death is not an option or thought.
There is a Pueblo verse that says, "Hold on to what is good, even if it is a handful of earth. And hold on to what you believe, even if it is a tree which stands by itself. Hold on to what you must do, even if it is a long way from here. Hold on to life, even when it is easier to let go. Hold on to my hand, even when I have gone away from you." I know that I am never alone. That is the one truth that through all times I have clung to. I know I have a Heavenly Father who loves me and His Son Jesus Christ knows me personally and with that knowlege I cannot give up hope.
Being on this side of the fence, feeling normal for me, having actual hope for the future in spite of the recession and political upheaval, I want to keep going. I'm not feeling manic. I feel peaceful and want to move on and feel this way on a long-term basis. This new treatment and those supervising it have warned me that it was not going to be easy. I am gearing up for that, but today as yesterday, I am basking in this feeling. I can sit and ponder the beauty of this day. This moment because I don't know how long it will last. But I have it now and it feels wonderful.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
A new day
I woke up this morning at 6:00. Last night Bob read some poems from my favorite books. I was feeling wiped out and needed a little help getting my mind on pleasant things. He is so wonderful to do this for me. When I was a kid I "lived" in illustrated children's books. Maybe that is why I am so interested in children's literature. It was my "safe place" to escape from the things in my life that terrified me. So last night I went to sleep at 9:00 and when I woke up at 6:00 I felt like I had just closed my eyes. No dreams to remember.
This morning a friend is coming over for tea. This is a self soothing activity, something that gets me out of myself, but gives me pleasure and company and what that brings at the same time. The conversations during these times almost always uplift me.
Bi-Polar Disorder is something that has to be watched and managed. It is insidious in that times of depression can come on so gradually that I am not aware of it until I am struggling. Then I try to "handle" it by not telling anyone just how I am feeling, trying to tough it out. The stigma of mental illness being a character flaw is false, yet I fall into trying not to let on how hard it is so people will think I'm okay. I don't want to infringe on their time, I don't want to complain. There are so many people who are dealing with their own trials and tragedies. Bi-Polar can become tragic when the depression gets to the point of futileness. Hopelessness and being tired of dealing with thoughts of death, that I don't want to take my life but please let this agony end.
I am not there today.
I am looking forward to another "normal" day. Tea, work out at the YMCA, pack for our move to Illinois whenever we finish getting this house in order and sell it. Some of the things I like to do will have to be on hold as I pack and get the house ready for the market.
I am lining up "babysitters" for when I will be alone. Transitioning from meds to Vitamin and mineral supplements and amino acids will not be easy. I have read and heard too many testimonials to kid myself. I am bracing for it and am ready to take on today
This morning a friend is coming over for tea. This is a self soothing activity, something that gets me out of myself, but gives me pleasure and company and what that brings at the same time. The conversations during these times almost always uplift me.
Bi-Polar Disorder is something that has to be watched and managed. It is insidious in that times of depression can come on so gradually that I am not aware of it until I am struggling. Then I try to "handle" it by not telling anyone just how I am feeling, trying to tough it out. The stigma of mental illness being a character flaw is false, yet I fall into trying not to let on how hard it is so people will think I'm okay. I don't want to infringe on their time, I don't want to complain. There are so many people who are dealing with their own trials and tragedies. Bi-Polar can become tragic when the depression gets to the point of futileness. Hopelessness and being tired of dealing with thoughts of death, that I don't want to take my life but please let this agony end.
I am not there today.
I am looking forward to another "normal" day. Tea, work out at the YMCA, pack for our move to Illinois whenever we finish getting this house in order and sell it. Some of the things I like to do will have to be on hold as I pack and get the house ready for the market.
I am lining up "babysitters" for when I will be alone. Transitioning from meds to Vitamin and mineral supplements and amino acids will not be easy. I have read and heard too many testimonials to kid myself. I am bracing for it and am ready to take on today
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
New Treatment for Bi-Polar Disorder
For those of you who don't know me I am an artist. Everything from murals to children's illustrating and card design. I'm a writer and amature photographer and I am Bi-Polar.
I was diagnosed seven years ago though thought first to be just recurrent clinical depression, the mania changed that. For those not familiar with Bi-Polar Disorder it is a cruel disease which has, to this point, been mainly treated with anti-psychotics and psychotropic drugs. It causes deep depression to the point of suicide in 1 in 5 patients. Bi-Polar is aptly named because opposed to the depression is the upswing of mania, racing thoughts, no need for sleep, sometimes incredible ideas to massive spending sprees and euphoria.
I have been hospitalized for depression and Bi-Polar disorder ten times in the past 11 years. Some for only a few days to inpatient stays for two weeks at a time.
Today I want to talk about a new treatment for the disease. Bi-Polar is mostly just endured and managed with medication treating the symptoms. New studies show promise in treating the illness with megadoses of vitamins and minerals that are lacking in the brain. I have just begun this process.
This blog will reveal my progress into uncharted territory for me. I am currently on 225mg Effexor, 300mg Lamictal, 2mg Clonazapam, 300mg Wellbutrin, and 240mg of Geodon.
My treatment started New Years day. And last night my legs started to shake so medication was dropped down on my Clonazapam to 1.75mg.
Today I am feeling good. "Normal" by my own standard. We will see where this takes me.
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