Meanwhile, my words are tucked away

Sometimes it’s comforting that someone else has found the words to describe the things you wish you could, but the things you wish you could are busy stealing your life away.

Here are some very perfect quotes on depression I found this evening. I’m not crying, you’re crying…

“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.”
― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“I didn’t want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that’s really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you’re so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.”
― Ned Vizzini

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”
― Laurell K. Hamilton

“The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.”
― David Foster Wallace

“That’s the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it’s impossible to ever see the end.”
― Elizabeth Wurtzel

“If you know someone who’s depressed, please resolve never to ask them why. Depression isn’t a straightforward response to a bad situation; depression just is, like the weather.

Try to understand the blackness, lethargy, hopelessness, and loneliness they’re going through. Be there for them when they come through the other side. It’s hard to be a friend to someone who’s depressed, but it is one of the kindest, noblest, and best things you will ever do.”
― Stephen Fry

“Some friends don’t understand this. They don’t understand how desperate I am to have someone say, I love you and I support you just the way you are because you’re wonderful just the way you are. They don’t understand that I can’t remember anyone ever saying that to me. I am so demanding and difficult for my friends because I want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though I am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. Depression is all about If you loved me you would.”
― Elizabeth Wurtzel

“The worst type of crying wasn’t the kind everyone could see–the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived. For people like me and Echo, our souls contained more scar tissue than life.”
― Katie McGarry

“Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say “My tooth is aching” than to say “My heart is broken.”
― C.S. Lewis

“When you’re lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you’ve just wandered off the path, that you’ll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it’s time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don’t even know from which direction the sun rises anymore.”
― Elizabeth Gilbert


If We Can Change the Lens…

This was passed on to me by someone near and dear who thought I would take interest in it. Now I’m passing it on to you. I thought it was fabulous, funny, smart and inspiring. Normally I lay around with the volume off on the computer. It took me over a week to get my lazy ears clicked into the e-mail this was linked to and actually watch the video. If nothing else, it’s a reminder that those of us with mental illness CAN change our brains, as well as the rest of the average folk who struggle daily too. Aside from being something I can personally relate to, it’s a perfect picture of the person I want to be while I’m speaking in the realm of academia one day after all the years of study I’ve put into my psychology major.

The best of luck to all of us who take the plunge to change,

Bipolar Barbie (Q)

When It’s Out of Your Hands, What Can You Do?

Decay. It’s a generally awful emotional and physically sour feeling that’s only offset by the new LED (color changing) tea candles I placed in glass holders I got from the dollar store yesterday that are illuminating my dark room. Since I started working full-time this has become a routine feeling on Sunday nights. Usually Sunday’s are when I sit down with myself and rage about the big depressing offenders in my life whether I want to think about these things or not.

Tonight’s reasons why I feel like I’m decaying are as follows:

1. Finances. Two weeks ago I slipped and sprained my spine and neck. I’m healing, though slowly, and I missed out on a week’s pay as well as gotten written up for poor attendance even though I had three doctor’s notes. You know 9/10 times a co-worker who sees something drop will not pick it up for me even if I’m wearing a back brace and knows I’m not allowed to bend? For example, a client in a walker’s hat fell to the floor. The co-teacher subbing for my regular partner saw this, and passed both of us by.

2. Work. I wish the state would make their yearly visit to check up on the facility I work at already and catch-all the sons of b’ches (TEACHERS! STAFF!) who are sitting around on their phones or leaving their assigned rooms to socialize in other rooms OR EVEN SLEEPING DURING CLASS TIMES and teach them a lesson. Also, I’d like them to see how in the lowest functioning room all of the activities are missing pieces or the pieces are all mixed up in different activities to sort which don’t belong together and the only reason those two things are occurring is because of the laziness of the staff. Even the fact that staff see marker’s are sitting there uncapped, they don’t even say anything to the capable clients to cap them OR to take matters into their own hands. When I had to sub for a half hour twice last week in that room I was so disgusted I felt like throwing a HUGE fit. But if I do? Nothing will happen. None of my concerns to my immediate supervisors/boss are addressed. If anything, I’m just set to be made to feel uncomfortable.

You know that in my three-month review I was told that because I told my co-workers we couldn’t go through a client’s bag without their permission because it was against client rights that I have to work on my communication skills with them? No ******* joke. It’s going down in my file as a mark against me. I’m SO glad to be working with “A” in the class I’m in right now. She’s like a trustworthy aunt who shares my work ethic. We’re about to lose some staff when the small group homes open and we’re starting two new male staff in the coming weeks. We had one new female staff start when I was out that week with my spinal injury and my impression of her thus far is that she’ll fit right in. That being said there is nothing positive I have to say about her. Get a job prostitution is my suggestion to more than half the staff. They already suck **** at their jobs. These are intellectually and developmentally DISABLED people that we, the staff are RESPONSIBLE for. It’s unfair.

3. General Health. Following up on the fact that my back still hurts, I also feel that centipedes under your skin hypersensitivity that only Lyme Disease can give you and I’m just straight up physically uncomfortable in my own skin. My sleep is poor and my fatigue is out of control. I’ll likely need a change of…

4. Medication. I need to call the community mental health center and get an intake appointment scheduled. I’m scared about doing it, but I need a psychiatrist I can see at only hours that they can provide. I likely need a little medication tweaking, as well as I’d like to get back on ADD meds which I could benefit from so much right now, and my thyroid may be the source of my fatigue which gives me anxiety because finding an endocrinologist I can see at convenient hours will also be difficult. Especially one that takes public aid.

5. Travel and Punctuality. It’s nearing the 10 days in which I get to dogsit and though I’m THRILLED for the little mini-vacation, I’m going to be doing a LOT of driving to and from work and the apartment, then to school, all places that aren’t very close to each other. The driving doesn’t concern me, but the “Oh god I hope I get there on time.” dread is already getting to me. The days I won’t need to travel and stalk the city streets for parking will be welcomed with open arms.

School. After finding out that my adviser was going to be leaving the university he passed me off to two candidates he felt would be able to help me get my independent study underway. One said she’d be taking a leave of absence in the fall and wouldn’t be able to help me either, the other passed me off to someone else who pretty much stopped communicating altogether and very obviously did not want any part of it. So I sent an e-mail earlier today to the original advisor, letting him know that now I’m an extra semester behind in doing the last thing I need to do so I can graduate. It’s not my job to know exactly what I’m supposed to do without any guidance. If it was, and I did know, I’d be done yesterday. I feel like ALL my confidence I had at the beginning of the semester has been pulverized, and even the anxiety I wasn’t feeling at the beginning of my lab class is catching up with me.

So yeah. By the end of every day since we’ve last spoke WordPress, I’ve pretty much felt pretty hopeless. I hope all of you guys out there are staying strong and kicking ass. I’ll catch up with you folk shortly.

The Chronicles of Barbie-a

There are few times my chemically unstable behaviors cause me to feel embarrassed because I seem crazy, but when I have a manic laughing fit, that’s damn well one of them. It’s like touching a cursed object. Maybe rubbing your hand against a crooked chicken foot or being subject to a centuries old witches toenail having dissolved in your Diet Coke. It was a couple weeks ago it last happened, and I wasn’t in a full blown manic episode either, I was just having a spike of imbalance I guess you could say. I was laughing so hysterically and I couldn’t put an end to it. I ended up feeling so out of control that I left the room I was lounging with Chris in and stuffed a pillow over my face. I wasn’t gasping for breath because I was suffocating myself with that pillow, I was gasping for breath because I couldn’t stop laughing. I spent time trying to put my mind in static mode, not think of anything and calm my body down, but the hint of any thought triggered more laughter. When it wore out its course I was relieved, but frustrated.

It’s another night where I held down the power button for my brain and the mind-computer didn’t shut off. My sleep schedule continues to suffer from irregularity without the added Seroquel to my chemical diet. I may use the Ritalin I use sparingly to keep myself up tomorrow so I can tire out in the evening and sleep at a regular time. Hopefully this month I should be able to get back on the dose I was on, and perhaps bump it up for the next month if need be. It may help aid me in mending my social life as well. It took a major toll when I dropped the drug. In fact, I isolated so hard without meaning to, that one of my best friends blew up at me a few days ago when I apologized for being absent. I’ve clammed up this past two months more so than ever in my distress about where life has landed me. Even when I feel I should speak up for myself I just swallow it down to the pit of my stomach and after a few hours or a nights rest it disappears. Metabolizes or something. Who knows, but I’m getting good at it, and that’s not a positive thing. We nearly ended our friendship right then and there, and if I hadn’t have said “I’m sorry” later that night out of guilt for going into a defensive stance and raging back at her, we’d probably have cut ties entirely. It’s easy to cut ties. Even children’s scissors could slice those ribbons.

The OCD is kicking up a little too lately, it’s the stress. Whenever I’m overwhelmed with things my obsessive thoughts take the stage. The reoccurring one I’ve had for years has resurfaced, which is that I’m terrified there will be a spark from an outlet like in a Final Destination movie and my house will go down in flames. Even repeating it for you now makes me uneasy. I also imagine myself losing all of my teeth one by one in a single sitting. I’ve also been obsessively cleaning and utterly disgusted when I come home and find something out of place, a shopping bag plopped down by the door, the shoes out of their neat line…

On the job front, I’m frustrated, but working hard at it. I’m sick of feeling like a bum. I have an opportunity to work as a Behavioral Therapist for an autistic child(ren) 10 hours a week, the woman I spoke with over the phone was interested in me, in fact she said the only thing that’ll be rough to do to get me going in this position is to find a family that would be a good match. I don’t have a ton of experience with low functioning children on the spectrum, so looking for high functioning kids may be a bit of a search, and hopefully for my own sake they find someone soon, because I really want this job. Always room to move up and take on other cases with more experience as well. What more could you ask for working in your field, and with children? That’s what I love to do.

It feels good to blog. It really does. If I wasn’t such a clam I’d be doing it more often.

Being an Adult

For the past month I’ve been looking for a grown up job. I’ve been through retail, been a cashier at a pool, a lunch lady, and a dog sitter and nanny. As I’ve grown I’ve realized I love taking care of kids, and though I want to help those of us who suffer from mental illness, maybe I should have gone into education. It’s a thought that’s hard to face. Have I been wasting time and money? What is my true calling? Who am I supposed to be? You know, grown up questions.

I’m wrestling a migraine at the cop dogs house pet sitting. It was a dry month for pet sitting. I recently had an interview at a group home which went really well, in fact they want me to come in for a third interview, but it’s not the job for me. Why? There’s no way I can deal with the stressful responsibility of driving a bus of disabled people to places I’m not familiar with as one of my job duties.

So I keep looking for jobs. I can’t wait out until next spring to take my last class doing nothing. This is the age to start my career (26). I just got an opportunity to come interview for an autism school as a behavioral therapist. I feel like they’ll hire someone more experienced, but I would be proud to tell people that’s what I do if I were to be hired.

I even applied for a position as a seasonal zookeeper. With my anthropology background I feel like I have a small shot at the job. I’ve been daydreaming about preparing lunches for primates or cleaning up zebra poo after hours.

Aside from the nerve wracking job search and soul searching, I’ve been suffering emotionally without Seroquel. I’ve been off it about a month because I couldn’t afford it. Also, the dose wasn’t high enough anymore. It used to regulate my sleep, and eventually lost its effect. I’m dreading having to pay for a doctor’s visit this month, but I need to talk to her to get back on the mental health horse. I honestly feel like a zombie, and it’s put stress on my social life.

Friends, I hope you’re all doing better than I am, and I hope to report some more positive findings soon.

I guess it’s just my stupid luck

Every time I get a text notification my broken heart still skips a beat. Both fortunately and unfortunately it’s never him. I do long for the day it is though no matter how healthy my case manager seems to think it is I get some space to mourn the loss.

Rob dominated group today with talk of his anxiety and self image. He’s a dad, hitting fifty soon and for some reason that makes it harder to hear his struggles both from his childhood and as an adult. In all honesty I feel glad we were able to dedicate some time to his issues, but I really wanted to talk today. Group psychotherapy is only an hour.

Hopefully tomorrow I’ll get a turn. I’m anticipating the insurance will only cover 2 more weeks of day hospital. I’m going to soak up as much as I can from the program and continue to do all my work to make progress. Hopefully I’ll be able to see my case manager in his private practice as well leaving the program. He’s really a stand up guy. I couldn’t ask for a better man in my life right now.

And speaking of men in my life, Brian, who I gave the AA coin to has been twirling it in his fingers all the time and keeps it on him all day. He even likes the quote on it about adjusting our sails to the wind. If I wasn’t so highly medicated I’d cry tears of joy that I could do something for someone that meant that much to them.

On my way home from babysitting I started thinking about what I’ll say in goals group tomorrow morning. They ask for a mood rating number from 1 to 100 (I was a 31 earlier today), a physical feeling, an emotional feeling, a goal for in program and a goal for the evening outside of program. You also answer if you met your goal for the previous week.

The past couple days when group is over, I’ve just wanted to curl up in a ball from depression and disappear. Sleep is my go to coping mechanism. It’s scary because if I feel that way on days I’m IN day hospital how will I function when it’s over?

Thank you all for your wonderful feedback. Tomorrow when I get a chance at the computer, as opposed to my phone, I will get back to all of you. Support from this outlet is just as valuable as support from the people in group.

Anger Carousel

I am not having a good day. I guess it’s a tad better with him saying that he’s pretty sure that his “kind of a thing” won’t turn into anything. I just want everything to go back to the way it was 1-2 weeks ago. That’s all. Without all this other girl bullshit. Today the thoughts were fucking horrible. All about how he’s getting to that age where he might want to settle down and start a family and SHE is out for a husband no doubt. I also thought about any intimate details one could imagine between the two of them, I thought about how I’m lesser to this girl and how it’s not fair. Maybe if I out-pray her things will work in my favor. I’m already asking my friends to send some prayers my way for help, St. Jude is getting an earful tonight. Chris said I shouldn’t pray so selfishly but what do you think SHE’S doing? Maybe I’m not the better person afterall but fuck, God’s not going to do anything anyways for me but feel bad for me and maybe help me have a good day here and there.

I went to the doctor at 3. I laid in bed and tried not to think for several hours after I fed and took out the dogs then I drove to the hospital, got scripts for medication and am starting Strattera for ADHD. Now, I normally follow doctors orders but I think I may take 2 pills the first day instead of one and then go to one every day for the rest of the week and 2 every day after that like I’m supposed to. I just want to get a little high and see how it all works even though it’s NOT an amphetimene which means there’s less of a chance I’ll get manic off of it. It’s like a staple ADHD drug for bipolar people for that reason exactly.

After the doctor I went to Lisa’s and saw the kids. We went out to eat to my dismay, I’m trying to save my money. They both wanted to sit next to me so I was squished inbetween two little kids with no room for my arms because our booth was small and we were all wearing coats and I had a purse and it was a mess but it was decent food, the only thing I ate all day.

Brittany said she was going to take care of me tomorrow after my first drink which I plan on buying myself. She’s very generous and especially in the place I am financially right now I appreciate that even more than I normally would. Apparently all the campus’ are closed tomorrow so I won’t have school and can meet her as planned at 1 so we can take the train down to the bar and meet up Ofelia and RosaLinda. I don’t drink much anymore but I’m hoping to get slammed but not enough to throw up. It’s going to be Margaritaville. Going out every day has helped ease some of the pain but the long car ride to Lisa’s was the worst part of the day, the way back too for that matter. Driving is what psychologists call an ‘automatic process’ which is something you do without thinking too much about it, and since I drive automatically (like on auto pilot especially when I know where I’m going) I had plenty of time to dive into the downward spiral of negative thoughts.

I wish he would turn to ME for support like he used to. He’s more than welcome to turn to God too, but don’t feel lost and not even try to turn to me to explain how you feel. Who are you that you can’t do that anymore? I feel so useless on top of everything else with him. And he thinks that he’s the center of all my problems and I can’t function without him or a relationship which is the furthest thing from the truth. It’s just like living with a disease. You go about accomplishing everything you want to in your life but you’re weighed down by pain and discomfort so heavily that you can’t help but cry in your down time. I KNOW I’ve LIVED with a life altering disease for over a year, I had a PICC line in my arm, I ate drank and slept medicine. I still do, but for brand new problems.

It’s quiet in the house. And cold. I’m drinking water now. I can already feel the pounds melting off of me without the appitite. I feel like screaming but I’m too emotionally drained to do something like that. I feel uncomfortable in my skin and I don’t know what to do. Where’s the manual for this? Why can’t I just go through rage without coming off as a bad person? Why can’t he just accept I’m UPSET right now so I’m saying things an UPSET person would say (like selfishly praying nothing turns out between them)?

And WHY does is it have to start snowing again?