Which one do I loath more?

Of all the medicines I have tried for my bipolar disorder, and there’s quite a few, there is only one I said I would NEVER take. One that I dreaded with blood, sweat, and tears. Yes LITHIUM how I loath you.

For the ten years diagnosised bipolar, only for 4 1/2 years have I let lithium enter my body.

Upon diagnosis I was tainted. Tainted with stigma about mental illness along with the medication associated with it. I was advised that I’d be put on lithium and once I started there’d be no going back. *Talk about being brainwashed and scared out of my mind. Of course you can be taken off of it, but I regress. . . .upon hearing this I became terrified and told my first psychiatrist on this journey if they ever mentioned lithium to be ever again I’d snap their neck. *Mind you i was manic and not medicated at the point yet, but I’m sure he had heard worse.

Tremors, weakness, hair thining/damage, skin irritation, constant thirst, weight gain/loss, vomitting, loss if appetite, and the list goes on of the side effects lithium…

Anyways two psychiatrists, three therapists, and a boat load of medication later I came to my current psychiatrist. I dropped a gallon size Ziploc bag on his desk full with over 20 current and up to date prescriptions and said, “help me.”

Thus he asked if i had ever tried Lithium? No, and gave my reasonings. Let’s just say my guard came down a little, I was still apprehensive but when he ASKED if he could write me a prescription for it, I was surprised that he ASKED and too baffeled to make a stunning remark I nodded my head, took the script, and ran with some hope.

4 1/2 years later I am better with lithium in my body,  it isn’t a miracle cure but it has helped with my mania and preventing some of them. Tomorrow I go in for my monthly check with the psychiatrist, so we’ll see if anything changes. Until then…..


Lazy afternoon

It’s Sunday afternoon, there’s a slight wind blowing through my high ponytail, and I just saw a cluster of birds conveying on the phone wires across the street. I’m outside looking at everything, anything, dissecting it to its smallest partial. You may say I’m bored or lazy. The first no, the later in every sense.

I am enjoying the time to be lazy, because I know what it is like to be over looked.

Home is clean, groceries done and put away, furbaby getting all the attention she wants and deserves, and the guys glued to their respective television.

I know this time will end soon, as matter of fact I will be in the kitchen within the hour to prepare dinner. Wow what a couple of moments of bipolar clarity.

9-5 job? No (part 2)

I’ve always wanted to work, in one way or another.

Growing up in my family it was said as long as you were in school, you didn’t have to work.

Well I had some here and there jobs in high school, college, even while in the military I held down some civilian jobs.

JcPennys, Michael’s Arts & Craft Store, Starbucks, Cold stone and so on…..

Moving forward I was always ahead of the game I thought, until I had my first major melt down of mania in school, and from then on work wasn’t an issue, even when I no longer was enrolled in school.

Getting bipolar, schizo-effective, anxiety, and ptsd really put a hult on work for me. Pretty much I couldn’t and still can’t function properly in order to have a 9-5 job which I posted about here:


And I’m not going to lie, it does hurt, until I think about my mental job and all I do to take care of others.

First I must become mentally aware of myself, my brain, it’s thoughts and how I’m feeling. After I am happy and situated with myself then I can worry about my furbaby Tuscany and Turtle and dad and the home we have.

July 2016? 2017 I’m still fighting

Placeholder ImageI have lived through my dark days, the depression, anxiety, sadness, racing thoughts, suicidal thoughts, the deep darkness that only those with bipolar depression can understand, along with a select few on the outside. However, there is one thing that bothers me about this, the medication. From day one of my diagnosis I have been treated like a guinea pig taking one medication after another. I wasn’t sure I’d ever find the right dosages or cocktail, but eventually I did. I had to fight for it and I’m still fighting, as you must understand with this disorder the same medicines will not work two to three years from now and dosages are always changing. I have had to fully commit myself to recovery because at the end of the day I want to live. I read a quote in an article that made me smile, “bipolar depression, anxiety and racing thoughts lead to a stronger, compassionate, understanding self.”

I may need to bring this up on Monday when I see my psychiatrist. I’m tired of being a lab rat!

Nightmare thought

So I just got back from the craft store and I’m all giddy. I have more canvases to paint my masterpieces on, yet I’m at a loss of what to paint.

As of late, I have gotten into painting my nightmares, which have given me a new medium to mess with. However at the same time it frightens me the reality of how vivid I cane make them that I get scared all over again in my waking hours. I started to sketch some as i didn’t know how to paint some of them and let’s just say I freaked myself out all over again.

Well at least I have the supplies I need for when I have that “bipolar moment.”

Cleaning day

Today is Turtle and I s cleaning day. I mean we clean up during the week but Saturdays we clean everything, in and out and upside down. It’s fun in the sense that we each have our strong points in what we clean and how it matches up with the others habits.

I am currently taking a break. It is intoxicating the smell of bleach, lavender, lemon, and windix.

The floors are done, showers, dusting done, even have a load of laundry going.

I wish my bipolar moments were so organized as the cleaning habits of Turtle and I. Well it sounds like the washer is done, and soon Tuscany will want her gourmet dinner prepared. Today I think chicken and boiled potatoes, then for the human folk baked ham and yellow rice.

Midnight rant

I am currently in bed thinking about what to write about since my brain won’t shut down. I am having racing thoughts, but nothing enough to focus on one idea to ponder over. So I started reading some of my old journals and came across something that irritated me when it happened and touched a nerve tonight…CHURCH & BIPOLAR.

When I was newly diagnosed with having bipolar I freaked out. Not for the many reasons one might think, such as

  • Crap what do I do now?
  • Medication?
  • Bipolar? Wth?
  • Psychiatrist?
  • Therapy? AGAIN!
  • What will I lose?
  • Who will I lose?
  • And the list goes on…

But no, I was being attacked with thoughts of being Catholic and the Church and what they would say or think about me.

Like anything else I was given some Xanax, calmed down and headed to speak with Father some time after. It felt like an eternity until my appointment, but I waited…..

Father first greeted me with an embrace as I had both volunteered and worked for the church so he knew me quite well….but now bipolar was apart of my life…how did I tell my pastor? Well when we reached his office and asked how I was doing, I just blurted out “I have bipolar disorder.” Soon his face got this disgusted look, I then knew what his answer would be about me continuing my faith in the church.

I was baffeled by the transgression of less than a five minute back and forth conversation.

My pastor who I thought was not to judge, just did that and advised me that my position in the church would be taken away! Wtf? I would have never thought I would have been discriminated against in my church! A Catholic church! Any church!

So what I did was asked if i could do my last confession with him, and proceeded as such. Lets just say there aren’t enough Hail Mary’s to atone for his behavior. I had looked to him as my spiritual advisor for years and this, this is what it had all been reduced to……

………well now I have lost my train of thought as the racing has comenced, so good night…*i may add more to this post if my brain allows