Rest in Peace, Airman

One Sunday this past March I awoke mid morning to find a missed phone call on my cell.  The time stamp said 4:35am and it was from my cousin, Cleopatra.  Cleo and I are similar in age and very close.  In the last few years, I've introduced her to 2 of my closer girlfriends and as a result we are all now friends.  Cleo is the go-to person among us when things REALLY hit the fan, for a variety of reasons.  She also left me a text to give her a call.  I was curious, knowing she wouldn't have called me at that hour if it weren't serious.

What I heard sobered me immediately, bringing me fully back into my body.  Our mutual friend, DJ, had called her in the middle of the night.  DJ's father had committed suicide in the early morning.  Shotgun to the head.

Shit.  Statistically men choose more violent forms of death, and this man definitely wasn't messing around.

I immediately called Cleo, knowing that she was probably asleep and had likely been on the phone with DJ for a loooong time.  She didn't have many details.  Only that DJ had spoken to her father earlier in the evening, and scant hours later he was dead.  The family kept the manner of his death under wraps as long as possible for the sake of the 5 grandchildren.  Quite a feat in a small Midwestern town.

Suicide is a sad, ugly business.  A person has to be in a lot of pain physically and/or emotionally to truly consider it(1).  It takes a terrible toll on those left behind.  Questions of why, the typical grief of loss, feelings of inadequacy over not being able to help, anger at the person for killing himself. 

I'd be lying if I denied that I'd never thought about it in my darkest days.  I didn't really contemplate an active suicide.  When I considered suicide I didn't think so much that it was a sin, more that it would kill my parents.  I do vividly remember one day praying fervently for my death, and meaning it.  I begged God to call me Home.  But I didn't feel I had the right to end things myself.  My days were horrible, ongoing numbness interspersed with pain.  I found escape in television and bad romance novels where the heroine is saved, usually socially and financially, from a bad situation.  All the while earning the love of a somewhat domineering, well meaning, wealthy man who ends up utterly devoting himself to her.  And they all live happily every after.  More often than not, though, I found escape--if not peace--in sleep.  I remember thinking that it would be so nice, so easy to go to sleep and never have to wake up.

One afternoon/evening, I had been crying for hours and couldn't stop.  I finally called my father, waking both my parents at 2am.  I confessed to him how nice I thought it might be to go to sleep and never wake up.  Warning bells went off for him, but he kept being my calm, reassuring dad.  A few people had already suggested to me that it might be beneficial to spend a little time in the hospital.  Get some perspective, rest, rebalance(2).  My father asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital. 

I really didn't, but I agreed it might be a good idea.

So then the question: do I admit up at school, or do I drive the 4 hours home to be admitted near family and friends for extra support there?  The plan became for me to get some rest, pack my stuff, and drive home the next day.  I spent a few days resting at my parents house, and then admitted myself to the local psych ward on a Monday afternoon(3).  I didn't want to be there, but recongnized it was likely needed.  I was in for almost a week.

I promised myself I'd never go back.  Another discussion for another day.  There are still times of depression, or times that are just plain trying, that I continue find escape in sleep.  Getting up and getting motivated can be difficult.  But I know that if I can just get myself OUT of the house, I'll feel/do better.  I'll get things accomplished and my days/weeks won't be wasted in terms of completing regular tasks.  Getting up out of bed is the first challenge.  Getting out of the house is the second.  It's a toss up as to which is more difficult on varying days.  Having accountability with school and/or work helps with that.  Knowing that there are people who care about me and WANT to see me, to spend time with me, is a welcome balm to my aching heart.

But I digress.

The Master Chief isn't the only person I know to have committed suicide, and may not be the last.  DJ's entire family-- widow, children, and grandchildren are getting therapy.  The grandchildren and their parents are doing individual as well as family therapy.  DJ's widowed mother moved back into the house about 1 month after her husband died.

I feel for them in ways I can never explain.  I am glad I'm not a care provider with their family helping through the grieving process.  And I know that to an extent, there but the grace of God go I.

Rest in Peace, Airman.  May you find healing, and your family solace.


(1) Although there is the occasional asshole who kills herself as a final act of cruelty to those around them.

(2) There is NOTHING restful about a psych ward, by the way, but that will wait until another post.

(3) The process was AWFUL, and traumatic for me and my mother.

Follow-Up to March 20, 2010

I mentioned about two four ago in my entry Sometimes Healing Hurts that something set me off into a crying cycle.  It was seeing the photo a professional acquaintance took of me and Bobby the previous weekend.  It touched me deeply. I ended up texting with Felicia for over an hour as the swing took it's course.  It was a VERY depressing exchange.  I saved the texts to pull out and examine later.  Below is our conversation, with very little edited.  It shows how I was thinking/feeling at that point in time.


Recovery is a PROCESS.  There are many ups and downs.  8 out of 10 days the issues discussed below don't phase me.  I'm healthy and very content with where my life currently is, and where it's going.  Many attitudes, fears, and wishes are touched upon.  Seemingly at random in some sections.  I'm posting this today to show people that they aren't alone in thinking this way.  That things can/do get better.  I'm posting it today to use as a springboard for further blogs.  I'm sure I can get 10 more out of this alone if I wish.  ;)


My texts are in underlined, plain font, Felicia's are in italics.  And yes, at one point she did just 'listen' while I got it out of my system.  For those of you who don't remember, Bobby & Felicia are married.  The three of us were becoming good friends, individually and collectively.  At this point I am closer to Bobby.  Felicia is ridiculously busy.  Full time mom, wife, career, etc.  I also seem to have stepped in it badly this summer.  Hopefully time will ease that.


Each helped me with the challenges of January-May.
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I haven't looked that nice in a foto in longer than I can remember.  I'm so utterly thrilled

Really?

Really.  It's one of the nicest things a near stranger has done for me in a very very long time.  I can tell how he edited it to make me more attractive.  I'm even crying over it.

How would he have edited it and why?  That's not a (name deleted) thing to do

He cropped it so my arm didn't look as fat.  See how there's more space to Bobby's left?  He also diminished my dark eye circles

You can't believe he centered it and you're just that pretty?

nope. sure can't

because?

Men don't marry women like me, Felicia.  I've know that for along time.  Men like Bobby are rare, and they're all taken.  I'm too outspoken, smart and eccentric.  I have family issues/baggage that will always be my responsibility.  I have a disease that could again fuck up my life and ruin those of people I love.  It's happened before.  There is a very good chance that I can't have healthy children.  And I'm fat.  It's just not in the cards for me.  It's too much.  No sane, healthy person would want to take that on.  And I understand.  Can't blame him for protecting himself.

You just described me.  Except for having the disease . . .   I'm just surrounded by it. 

The problem with being so utterly confident and competent in so many areas, is that people don't ask if you need help.  They know you can do it.  Or they ask, "do you need help" not "do you WANT help"  It sucks, but it's life.

If you think that way, it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.  It you're opened minded and 'whatever happens, happens' , you may be surprised where life leads you.

I try.  it's double edged.  Some days I have a great deal of hope.  other days not.  It fluctuates.  When I'm feeling bad, then the depression comes.  You and Bobby give me hope.  Sometimes I'll look at you two and want the same thing for myself so badly IT HURTS.

You two find my heart/mind attractive.  which is what I've always wanted.  I've never wanted to be a sex object, and hate women who use their appeal to get what they want all the time.  I'm not pretty, I never will be.  I clean up well, but it's not the same.

I want to be someone's one and only and I probably never will.  I became and adult at age 8.  Josh always came first, and the tragic reality is that I have to be in crisis to get that central regard

You need self esteem. 

I knew by high school that I wasn't what men wanted.  certainly not physically.  The other realizations came later.  so I learned to focus more on personality--which I already had been doing.  It's just not enough sometimes.  I'm female enough and shallow enough to want to be pretty, too.

People who have it don't talk like you do-- I'm fat, not pretty, and nobody wants me

I have PLENTY of self-esteem sans this one area of my life.  the disease makes it worse, esp when cycling.  That's not a cop out.  Self-esteem struggles are a HUGE part of MI.  ANY MI.  It's something we have to work on daily.  Events of the last two months are forcing me to re-evaluate. it's hard and scary. TALL vertical learning curve.  I'll get there.  Sometimes 'accepting' certain unpleasant 'truths' about your life is less painful.  it keeps you from wanting.

AND, you found Bobby young.  My time is running out for children, whom I want desperately.  But I know better than to be a single mother.  Then there's the factor of meds during pregnancy.  To risk her health or mine.  Which is more important in utero-- a stable mother or a drug free child?  what is she inherits?  and what right do --I-- have to knowingly bring a child into this world who may have to grow old quickly dealing with a sick mother?

That is NOT a pity party.  It's well thought out practicality, and the truth hurts.  terribly.

I had just become comfortable in my body and was awakening sexually in early college.  then I got sick.  it all went away and I haven't been able to reclaim it.  parts of it are different, more mature, better. but it will take a lot of time support and an INCREDIBLE amount of love to heal.

NOW do you see why I wared you both away?  part of me is a mess.  I can/do wear people out.  and hurt them unintentionally.  I'm coming to care a lot about both of you.  I don't want that for you.  for anyone!

Don't get me wrong. a few men have treated me very well in their own ways.  But when (name deleted) is kind and tender with me, it undoes me.  I've never had that, ever.  It makes me want.  Yearn.  True intimacy has been SO rate. I will cherish every moment with him, regardless of whether or not there are any more.

Pagan Princess = utter mess.  I will be sad if you two walk away.  Incredibly so.  But I will understand.  I want what is best for both of you and the kids.  But I'm rambling and repeating.  Probably depressing the fuck out of you.  It's late.  I'll let you get to bed.

rambling is allowed  ;)  it's a lot and it's late and we'll have to discuss it all over dinner some time  ;)

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End of transcript.  Now you see where I was that night.  Always interesting to visit things after the fact.  The stage is set.  More to follow at a later date.

Where Have All the Flowers Gone?

A-- they died. We haven't had any RAIN!

Hello, world.  Yes, I'm still alive.  I've been meaning to get back to this, but haven't seemed to find the motivation, discipline, et al.  March through May were pretty rough, and I had to fight the desire to curl into a ball in my bed and not get out.  Then early June I calmed down, only to have a cluster kick in the last weekend of the month.  Still dealing with fallout there.  I stopped posting for many reasons, among them time management and then......   movement becomes difficult once entropy kicks in.

So what's new?  Many things.  To start I'll tell you that the sun and summer heat have done a number on me, but I'm still going.  God bless a/c and all the people who make it possible.  

---- transition----  can't think of a good segue.  Sorry  :p

I try to come up with witty titles to my blogs, the better to get your attention, my dears.  For some reason this song title came to mind.  Quickly followed by the smart ass response.  And then, I was trying to figure out a way link the title to a blog post.  And then a lot of ways to use the metaphor kicked in. 

ACK.  gotta pick just one, or else I'll never get off the computer. 

So, let's return to the original statement.  We haven't had any RAIN!  Too much rain sometimes gets me down, but usually that's not the case.  I really love rain.  The sights, the smells, the sounds.  The sound of rain relaxes me, and I rarely sleep better than when a storm rages outside.  Feeling the power of nature around me, connecting me to the energies of the planet, all the while knowing I'm safe in my bed.

MMMMMMM  :D  Some people don't care for storms.  So long as I'm not driving in them, I'm good.  It's rare for a storm to make me nervous, at least on my own behalf.

The hot, dry summer has been rough.  On animals, on crops.  I don't anticipate it getting much better, most of the country is in a drought.  And of course, on people.

Many people with MI are particularly sensitive to sun and heat, requiring us to take extra precautions.  Many of us are overweight for one, often as a direct result of psychiatric medication.  Larger bodies tend to have more trouble with heat.  Our medications are often photosensitive, making us more sensitive to sun exposure.  And our medications also make us more susceptible to heat.  

Summer sun, heat, medicine, heat, weight gain, sun ....  a lovely set of circumstances that circle and reinforce each other.  And while we are hardly the only medical population to face these challenges, it is a reality often overlooked by the 'average' individual.  Many acquaintances treat me as though I'm paranoid, fearful, and/or a hypochondriac due to how I regard summer sun and heat.  I wear sun screen and hat.  I rarely wear shorts outside to limit exposure.  I carry a sun umbrella, and even have a sun-shawl. *  But I KNOW from experience, that if I get too hot for too long, I get hypomanic.  In a way that I can't control, for days at a time.  I can't overcome it without extra medication.

And when I get manic, I get myself into trouble.  BIG time.  I'll regale you with those stories another time.  So far now, keep cool and be safe.  And please recognize, that sometimes a person's 'heat induced' frustration may be more serious than you know.  Try to encourage them to be cool, while you hang on to yours.

Blessings!

PP

*there is now sun-protective fabric available.  Some companies make clothes, with built in SPF of anywhere from 30 to 60.  You can also buy the fabric online and make your own.  

small steps, HUGE victories

As I mentioned in an earlier post, my midterm grades the other week were straight As ---- 4.0

HOT DAMN AND HALLELUJAH

For some people that is a huge accomplishment, and it is for me as well.  It wasn't always so.

What do I mean?

When I as in high school, straight As were a given.  I was in all honor's classes, among the cream of the crop in my class.  When I graduated I was something like 42 in a class of 228?  Many of my fellow students were surprised that my class rank wasn't higher.  Provided my grades satisfied me and I could get into the school I wanted, I wasn't overly concerned with my class rank.  And by the time my senior year rolled around, I wasn't overly interested in busting my hump for a higher ranking.

I was one of those students everyone just KNEW was going to go far.  I left for college full of life, promise, and hubris.  My first semester proved far more challenging emotionally than I'd ever thought possible.  Quite a few challenges and several traumas undermined my foundation.  That first semester is the LAST TIME I pulled a 4.0

By spring semester I was struggling, and had to withdraw from classes mid semester.  The subsequent years had many ups and downs.  Sometimes I got through the term, sometimes I didn't.  I left school mid-semester more than once to regroup.  I regularly pulled an A with multiple Bs and Cs.  Jugging it all was just too difficult for me emotionally.  Especially when coping with the roller coaster of my illness; many incompletes devolved into Fs.  I eventually withdrew fully from college in June of 2003.

When I started back to college last fall it was rough.  VERY overwhelming at times.  I was exhausted and ended back in therapy to help me cope.  I had a solid B average come December which pleased me.  I knew very well that it would take me awhile to get my bearings.  This semester I set myself the goal of getting straight As.

And so far, I've DONE IT!!!!  So I'm doing my happy dance, and enjoying the feeling.  Never in my wildest dreams at 18 would I have thought this would be such a huge accomplishment for me.  But it is.  It took me many many years to be ready to return to school.  Longer still to be able.  And thanks to meds, support, and a tremendous amount of effort on my part, I'm close to meeting that goal.

Many many MANY small steps, but a huge payout.  So I'm telling myself, this is a victory.  Don't take it for granted.  DON'T diminish this.  Who you are and who you were are very different.  That girl never had half my strength or wisdom.  She skated on her natural talents and other factor, I don't.

I have EARNED this.  And I deserve to feel good about it.

Love, Hate, and Modern Medicine

Today's blast from the past comes from June 2008.  Mere months before I relocated 180 miles away from my home town to start the next phase of my life.  Moral of today's story-- ALWAYS read the information given to you by the pharmacy.  Make sure you understand it, so you are able to make an informed decision about what's safe for you.  Don't be afraid to advocate for yourself.  You know your body, and doctors can make mistakes.



Gotta love the medical establishment.  Today is case in point as to why MDs either love or hate me.

Went to urgent care today because I need an antibiotic (will spare you details).  Been trying the holistic route and it hasn't been making much of a dent.  And my healer pretty much told me yesterday she wanted me to get a culture, so in I went.  I chose urgent care over my internist because
                  1-- I don't like him much, very brusque
                  2-- he's always hard to get into,
                  3-- he's always running late, and
                  4-- when Papa saw him this AM for a 10:00 appointment, he
                       was already running over an hour behind.

So I went to the clinic and got right in.  Lovely, fun RN took my history.  But the MD, I don't think he really looked at my chart, or at least not in depth.  I say this because as he was walking into the exam room the nurse verbally told him that I'm allergic to sulfa drugs-------------- something that he should have seen on the chart.  Sulfa is the drug of choice for what I have going on, and he still tried to prescribe it.  So he wasn't paying the best attention.

The doc prescribed Cippro, really bringing out the big guns.  I've never had it before, but do take Levaquin on occasion and it works well for me.  Picking up the script at the pharmacy I started reading the paper insert which said, among other things, the following:

                    --- please inform your doctor if you experience............. mood changes, weakness in limbs, dizziness...................  in extreme cases has been known to induce mania.............. do not take if you have a history of neurological problems [or] have taken and anti-seizure medication within the past year.................. may cause mild to extreme sun sensitivity.........

Yeah, SO not taking that.

so back to urgent care I went.  Now convinced he didn't look at my chart at ALL.  Just what exactly are Lexapro and Lamictal? ** [DUH]

Talked to the nurse and told her I wanted Levaquin, she was doubtful but said she'd talk to the MD.  To shorten the tale, I actually had the MD sit down with a PDR [Physicians Desk Reference] while there were no other patients there waiting to be seen.  He seemed amused by me wanting to look at the data as opposed to offended-- good sign.  Levaquin is the same family as Cippro, but the potential side effects are much lower.  And no drug interaction danger.  Plus, I've taken it several times before without difficulty.

So, maybe I need to give my internist a break.  He doesn't make accidental errors like that.  In fact, he doesn't give me ANYTHING without first consulting his PDR on PDA.  He knows he doesn't know jack about psychotropics.

6 of one, half a dozen the other.  Despite the inconvenience of going back, I was still done in at least half the time if I'd gotten in to see my regular doc today.  And, free medical care from the good sisters is nothing to complain about.  Sort of ;)  ***

**  medical lesson for the day.  Lexapro is an SSRI, a class of antidepressant.  Thus, looking for mood contraindications is important.  Lamictal is an anti-seizure, anti-manic medication.  Insert said not to take if you have a history of neurological problems.  Technically, MI is classified under neurology.  And Lamictal IS an anti-seizure. 

*** my home area has a Catholic run hospital.  The good sisters do not require a medical co-pay for people on public aid.

Things are Looking Up!

"Things are looking.  I've been looking the landscape over, and it's covered with four-leaf clovers . . . "

Good evening, dear readers.  I know my posts have been rather cranky this week, mostly because I've been rather cranky.  Even the blasts from the past have been downers.  I have follow-ups to posts from earlier this week to write which will clarify some things, and give you a better idea of what I was thinking/feeling.  Mental/emotional processing is a VERY big part of recovery.  However, the last two days have been rather lovely, so I thought I'd share a small bit.

I've been slowly but surely losing weight the last 18 months.  27 pounds total!  ***  I haven't changed THAT much activity.  However, I eat VERY well and don't keep crap in the house.  If I want something THAT badly, I have to decide whether I want to walk my butt the 3/4 mile up to the gas station to get it.  It's been very helpful and rewarding to my self esteem. I also eat a lot of fruit and yogurt, for health as well as convenience.  I never thought I'd be one of those people who buys the pre-packaged fruit cups, they ARE more expensive, but with my schedule I really need grab and go.  So that also means a lot of nuts and protein bars in addition to my fresh fruit and soy milk/cow milk mix.  Plus you can buy fruit cups in natural juices instead of the overwhelming syrup!

I've been getting more exercise more consistently.  It's not that I've INCREASED my exercise, but that the frequency has changed.  I haven't owned a vehicle since late January 2010.  I do drive, but the car I had died horribly and I haven't been able to replace it.  So days I have to leave the house (at least 4 of 7) I walk to and from the bus stop, the train, etc.  The general minimum is 1.5 miles.  The general maximum if not running errands is 4 miles.  With QUITE a few stairs getting on and off the train platform.  There are two buses I can catch to and from one of my client's homes, but I typically opt to walk.  It's often faster than waiting for my connection, the exercise is good for me, and the weather has been increasingly lovely. 

The walking being broken up throughout the day has made an INCREDIBLE difference.  And if you don't know, the Saint Louis area has a LOT of hills.  My butt has never been so flat!  Other than the weight loss, I have had two major, obvious benefits.  One-- I sleep far better overall (although there are always times when sleep is a challenge)  Two-- my legs and overall body is looser.  I carry my stress in my legs and hips, but I have a very high pain thresh-hold.  I often don't realize just how tight I am until my back starts to ache.  My problem areas stay loose and warm, also allowing me to get a deeper, longer stretch.  Add into account that I sometimes sit in HORRIBLE chairs at school most of the day-- the walking really helps.

If I go a few days without leaving the house and DON'T make myself go out and walk, I FEEL it.  I'm tight and my sleep is often worse.

But with all that build-up, here is my happy happy experience of today and yesterday. . . .   I have been swapping out winter clothes for spring and summer.  Many of my clothes are too big right now, and I don't really have the extra time or extra cash to hit Goodwill and the other resale shops.  A good friend of mine who is like my sister, has usually been one size smaller than I.  She, TOO, is losing weight so I went 'shopping' in her closet earlier this week.  That was helpful.  But as I started really looking at my wardrobe I started making choices of what to save and store and what to put away.

THEN I started getting out warm weather clothes.  I started trying them on.  I have so many FABULOUS tops that fit again.  Or almost fit (either being tad too big or a tad too tight)  So far EVERY pair of slacks I've tried on (5 total) have been WAY too big, plus two pairs of jeans.  Two pairs of capris now fit well.  Unfortunately they're very casual, so I'm going to need something nicer for the good tops.

So I still need to go shopping, but what a WONDERFUL feeling!!!  You can really see the loss when things no longer fit.  And by giving them away I DON'T have a fall back.  That will make me work to keep where I am, AND keep going.  Found several nice things that are still about 2 sizes too small, but I think I can get into them by the end of summer.

So there's part of my happy Friday/Saturday.  Let's do the Snoopy Dance!!!


***For anyone unaware, psychiatric medication VERY often involves weight gain.  Some meds cause compulsive eating (unbeknownst to the patient unless it is continually pointed out).  MANY meds slow down your metabolism and/or screw with your sex hormones.  Often people who are depressed crave carbs, because it can help with the imbalanced neutro-transmitters.

So body image due to weight gain often becomes a stressor for people with MI.  And we already HAVE self-esteem issues thanks to our illness.  Kind of a lose-lose.  Take your meds and get fat, but feel better.  Don't take your meds to stop weight gain and maybe reverse the gain, and give your disease greater control over your life.  Not a pleasant choice.

Spring Fever!!

Evening everyone!

I can't speak for you, but I caught spring fever last week.  What does that mean?  Well for ME it means that I had a LOT of extra energy.  It happens every year.  The planet rejuvenates, the birds sing, and my ass is awake anywhere between 4 and 5:30 am.

And more often than not NOTHING gets me back to sleep.

I've come to expect this annual semi-hypomanic state (awful phrasing I know, but accurate for my symptoms) and learned to adjust accordingly.  Friends and family notice it, and I often enjoy it.  By 'it' I don't mean the hypo-mania* as much as the reawakening of the earth.  It's truly something I adore.  The sights and smells.  The grass renewing so I can enjoy walking barefoot on it.  The thunderstorms . . .

Spring is my time.  I enjoy fall as well, but spring wins hands-down.  It signals an end to the dearth of winter, and my SAD markedly improves.  The really challenging/frustrating thing is that I often can't get to sleep at night.  I'll be up since 5am, put in a long and busy day, often very physically active, and be lying there at midnight unable to sleep.  Why?  Well, it's very similar to when my Aunt Juba goes to Vegas.  She canNOT sleep there.  As she says: "They're having fun without me"

Yup.  The planet is getting happy, and I get happy with it.

Not sleeping can be anywhere from annoying and tiring, to exhausting and dangerous.  But as I said, I've learned to deal with it.  I often get a lot accomplished**.  For example, earlier last week I got a LOT of drafts either finished or started for YOU, dear readers.  Many of them are blasts from the past, but still relevant.

This past Friday and Saturday (March 16 & 17) is a very good example, in terms of rest and extra energy both.  I woke up at 4am.  I lay there unable to get back to sleep.  I listened to the birds, heard my one room mate get up at 5:30 and shower, and then his fiance at 6:30 and shower.  The water running must have helped me drift back down because I didn't hear them leave and lock up.  I rewoke at 7:45 cranky and tired.  I know I didn't get all the way down into REM from how my brain was functioning.  But I said fuck it and got up.

A girlfriend, Felicia, called me for our semi-regular morning chats.  We usually get one in on Thursday or Friday as she drives to work.  Thursdays I don't have to be anywhere until 1pm, and my Fridays are always in flux. So we usually get one visit in per week.  We had about an hour of talking, and then it was OFF to the races.

AAAAAAALLLLLLLL day I baked, and cleaned, and did laundry.  I found my bedroom floor.  Even disassembled and washed, then reassembled (the difficult part) all my dog's bedding.

Four o'clock rolled around and since I didn't want to stop without finishing all my tasks, I was running late.  My monthly, para-professional community event started at 7.  Doors open at 6 and I usually arrive before that to help set up.  But I didn't make it there until 6:45.  Thankfully my friends didn't mind.  I had a wonderful time, but I was exhausted.  Got home around midnight, and to sleep approximately 1:30 Saturday morning.  Well, I can't know that for sure, but that's the last time I remember seeing on the clock.  I slept poorly and had bad dreams as I had all week, only to be up again at 7:30 and out the door at 9:30.  This time attending a para-professional expo during the day and religious gathering in the evening.

I currently down own a car, so I rely on mass transit.  It could be better here, but I'm thankful to have what we do.  1-3 routes come within a mile of my house depending on the day/time.  I can typically get everywhere I need to be within 90 minutes, and I've learned to use that as my mental down time.  Or chat time with friends via text.  I can't read/study on the bus; I get nauseous and a horrible headache.  Saturday morning/afternoon taking the bus to and from my destination only would have saved me 5 minutes  Since I walk quickly I opted to walk.  Then I wouldn't have to deal with timing my departure to coincide with schedules.  It was just under 2 miles and a beautiful day (though I did get soaked on the way home).  I was DRAGGING by the time I left at 2pm, having been on my feet consistently since 9:30.

My friend Bobby (married to Felicia) was there Saturday and had also attended the event Friday night.  When I got home (and texted him to let him know I was safe) he expressed concern about me going to my religious gathering.  Especially given it meant yet another long commute.   Especially since I only had 90 minutes of down time before leaving again.  Plus, said down time had to include a playing with J and getting ready.  I took his point; it was valid and he was worried about me.  But there are only 8 sabbats/year and I knew that if I didn't go I'd regret it.  I needed the worship, community and fun.  I needed the emotional and spiritual energy tune-up.

And besides, I assured him, I'd already arranged for a ride home.

Saturday formally ended when I got home at 11:30 pm and collapsed into bed.  Thankfully I finally slept well and was able to sleep until I woke naturally.  But my MIND wasn't tired.  Granted I was dragging mentally Friday night, and late Saturday night, but I was still lucid.  Sunday my legs were really aching.  Annoying but a good sign.  It means my body is adjusting, and the mania*** was starting to wane.

Today is Wednesday and so far it has been a hectic week.  I am sleeping better, and my rest has greatly improved.  Monday night I slept SO hard/deeply, that I stumbled around the first several minutes when I got up Tuesday morning.  If you read my Tuesday post, you know I had a rough evening (on Monday).  All part of the process/disease.  The intense crying Monday night probably helped tire me out so that I slept better.  I had two 'mountaintop experiences', as my father would say, over the weekend.  Using a LOT of mental and physical energy.  Hypomania was DEFINITELY involved.  That takes a toll on body and spirit.  So part of Monday night was the pendulum swinging back.  But I'm still here, still keepin' on.  As far as I'm concerned, other options aren't relevant.

And today I learned that as of midterm I have straight A's.  WOOT!  Time for the Snoopy dance!




*Mania, in it's varying levels of intensity, often feels GOOD.  It's one reason why people with mental illness don't take their meds.  I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the sensation and effects on occasion.  But once the pendulum starts one way, it CAN get out of control, and very quickly, for anyone.


**another component of mania that is often enjoyed-- the productivity.  Although, it's not always GOOD work, and things started during these phases often go unfinished for many people.


***it's very important as one starts down the recovery road to know how your body responds and your thoughts change.  self-awareness keeps you safe and healthy.

and a final note on mania-- mania has varying degrees of intensity and severity.  While most commonly thought of in people with severe bipolar disorder (formally manic-depression), it is found in people with other psychiatric challenges.  Many people without bi-polar disorder may have episodes of mania, even those NOT on the mood disorder spectrum.