Tag: bipolar disorder

The imperfect, structured prelude

~ K ~ 1 Comment

Critics at their worst
Could never criticize
The way that you do
No, there’s no one else I find
To undermine or dash a hope
Quite like you
And you do it so casually, too
— Aimee Mann, “Nothing Is Good Enough”

I am my own worst critic. And the negativity and criticism have reached critical level in my head to the point where I have seriously considered suicide. I even had a plan, too. Won’t tell you what so I don’t give any ideas to others who might be vulnerable but it was a plan I was comfortable implementing.

I have cried a lot recently. Cried over my self-worth. Cried over the time PPD took me away from my child. Cried over my difficult relationship with my child.

I guess it’s kind of bad. I have this “Christian” faith in God. But when it comes down to it, the faith that once helped to keep me alive I have now, in actions, abandoned. I haven’t really found a good excuse to stay alive. Except for my husband. I know he’d be devastated without me.

And I mean, devastated.

On September 29, I enrolled in a partial hospitalization program (PHP) in attempt to avoid full hospitalization. (The last time I was hospitalized, I was almost sexually assaulted.) My actual PHP began on September 30. Insurance has approved 10 days in the program and I have only been able to attend 5 out of 8 days so far due to medication side effects and illness (the worst migraine of my life that lasted at least 48 hours).

I have been dealing with a lot of anxiety too. It prevents me from doing the most basic (and annoying) tasks. I had an anxiety attack over balancing my checkbook, checking my personal email, looking at my reactivated Facebook account. I refused to even try checking my work email for fear I’d get sucked into flipping out of work projects and concerned emails from coworkers.

My husband has repeatedly expressed his desire for me to live. I want to honor that. If for no one else, I am going to attempt to fight back against my suicidality and negative thoughts so he can enjoy the rest of his life with his life partner. I feel fight in me right now. I can’t promise that I’ll feel fight in me on Monday. But I’ll try to hold on to this feeling.

I was enrolled in a PHP after my full hospitalization back in 2006 and I don’t remember it being half as good or effective as it is now. While it was structured back then, it is even more structured now. There’s a pattern to it. A 50-minute pattern that I appreciate. It starts off with the full group participating in either yoga (Mondays and Fridays) or mindfulness meditation. Then we break off into 2 groups for a daily check-in where we rate and discuss how we are feeling that morning. Subsequently, the 2 groups combine for a class based on a specific topic, such as core beliefs, shame, self-care. (Quite honestly, this is the one “class” where many of us nod off. Sometimes it’s boring but sitting there as if it were a class is sleep inducing.) After that, we have lunch and then head into open group where we can discuss anything that is on our mind or help someone who is particularly troubled or struggling that day. Finally, we end the day with mindfulness meditation again and a “check-out” that allows us to rate how we are feeling at the end of our daily PHP.

Quite frankly, I never appreciated structure until this program. I always disliked structure because I felt like things would become “routine,” which of course was the point. I preferred variation, changing things up, and never knowing what might come next. But as I’ve gotten older, lack of structure bothers me. It drives me nuts. Life with a toddler is anything BUT structured. Never knowing each day whether I’m going to work late is NOT routine. Structure doesn’t have to be precise or exact. Group doesn’t always end exactly at 12:20 pm before lunch like it should. Sometimes it ends at 12:17 pm. Sometimes it ends at 12:25 pm and cuts into our lunch a bit. And that’s okay with me. It’s a simple reminder that life doesn’t always go according to plan, and I can get back on track as soon as I am able.

My PHP experience is teaching me quite a bit. I’m learning to forgive myself and be patient with myself. To not be so quick to criticize myself when I screw up or to spew negative words at myself when I’m not perfect. I’ve identified a few core beliefs that are extremely negative and cause me to feel worthless and hopeless. I’ve learned that shame causes me to be impatient with myself, to not settle for being anything less than “perfect,” and causes my inner worth to feel tainted.

I’ve also identified several aspects of self-care for myself. I’m not sure how to incorporate them daily but weekly may have to do. A few activities that I consider to be self-care include the following:

  • journaling or blogging
  • listening to secular music in the comfort of my home
  • reading
  • writing a short story or novel (yes!)
  • spending time with friends
  • praying
  • reading the Bible
  • listening to Christian music that inspires me
  • attending church regularly and being part of a community

To help manage much of my anxiety, I have learned breathing techniques and grounding techniques. I never knew there were actually tangible things I could do to calm myself. I’d rather use these techniques before popping a Xanax.

So my PHP has been extremely helpful for me, and I’m really trying to absorb all of the information provided to me. I’m not ready to return to work yet. I still need to get my medication adjusted to the right dosage that allows me to function regularly (eg, lack of day drowsiness, lack of extreme morning grogginess, absence of headaches and nausea). I still have a weird jittery side effect whenever I’m still or at rest so I’m hoping that eventually goes away.

One of my primary tasks is deconstructing the core beliefs about myself.

  • I can’t do it.
  • I don’t fit in.
  • I’m a loser.
  • I’m worthless.
  • I’m not as smart or talented as others so I’m no good.
  • I’m boring.
  • I’m not important
  • I’m not capable.
  • I’m stupid.
  • I’m ugly.
  • My thoughts are dumb.
  • My opinions aren’t wanted.

I’m having a moment where I feel like many of those things aren’t true. But WOULD TO GOD if I always thought that way. The first step to breaking down my negative core beliefs is simply identifying them. Somehow, I’ll need to move from there. (I have a handout about this but it’s riddled with spelling and grammatical errors so I’ll have to find something on the Internet.) 🙂

There’s a better story
Of true love of true grace
There’s the hope of glory
And our first chance to be truly brave
It’s the place we’re going
When we can’t stay where we are
— Sara Groves, “Rewrite This Tragedy”

It’s Getting Better All the Time

~ K ~ 1 Comment

I’m worlds better than I was in August, September, and October. After trying different medications (and getting back on my Vitamin D and fish oil with omega-3s), I’m finally starting to feel like myself again. Bubbly me. Not exactly cheerful but normal. I’m on a max therapeutic dosage for lithium and Lamictal along with reduced dosages of Prozac and Ability. The combination seems to be helping. I just saw my psychiatrist and he didn’t want to tinker with a good thing. I was in such a good mood that I drove myself to and from Philly safely and considered walking into his office as though I were manic. But I decided against that and just let him see my bubbly disposition.

“I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.” — Stuart Smalley

I haven’t really had suicidal thoughts lately. Not like when Robin Williams died.  It’s like I took his death and internalized it to a point where I felt hopeless. Not like I knew the guy, but he was so vibrant and full of life that I couldn’t imagine living a life any better than he did.

—

I’m looking into a new daycare for my son. I was looking for something a little more local, but I just found out that he shares a crib with another baby at his current daycare. Even though the workers sanitize and put clean sheets down, it still rankles me that my son shares a crib with another baby. He should have his own! It could help explain why my son has been consistently sick with a cold since August.

—

My postpartum depression, I think, is getting better. I’m still afraid to care for my son when no one’s around. But I hope to use a few days in December to take care of him while everyone’s at work and show myself that I am capable of that. I need tackle this particular anxiety head on.

Journey of My Bipolar Depression

~ K ~ 4 Comments

consolerI suppose I’ll begin chronicling my bipolar depression journey here rather than on my other blog, depression introspection.

Since August, my mood has been up and down with “down” being severely low. I was suicidal. I’ve been suicidal. And when news of Robin Williams’s death hit my ears, it hit my mood as well. I honestly began thinking, How could someone so vibrant and alive kill himself? How could someone so talented and loved by so many people commit suicide? Then I thought, I’m not as talented as he was. Maybe I should kill myself too. I’m certainly not as loved as he is. What’s the point of living? I should join him.

Somehow, I managed to hang on to see my psychiatrist and I told him that the death of Robin Williams had triggered persistent suicidal thoughts. I hadn’t attempted to kill myself, but I was seriously considering it. He suggested that I try taking lithium, which has a track record of reducing suicidal thoughts.

I’ve been reluctant to take lithium because it requires that you get your blood levels monitored every 6 months. But when you’re desperate, you’ll try just about anything. (Probably just short of eating cockroaches. I certainly don’t have the stomach for that.)

Continue reading “Journey of My Bipolar Depression” →

A Place with No Name

~ K ~ 1 Comment

Perhaps this is a blog post that belongs on my other blog, depression introspection, but this blog has been rather active so I prefer to post the following here.

Image from salon.com
Image from salon.com

My psychiatrist has added two more medications to my regimen. I was on Abilify and Prozac daily. I took Ativan as needed. Now, I’m on Abilify, Lamictal, and Prozac daily with Xanax as needed. Continue reading “A Place with No Name” →

You Are Not Alone. I Am Here With You.

~ K ~ 2 Comments

(I think this is the month for Michael Jackson quotations. I mean, after all, he did pass away during the month of June.)

Where do I begin?

If you’re reading this after having recently commented on my last post, Heaven Can Wait, thank you. I always felt alone and as though I didn’t really matter in the world. Then came a storm of warrior moms (I can see why they call y’all warrior moms now!) to my rescue. They encouraged me that things will get better. That this too shall pass. That I am not alone.

The sun is beginning to peek through the overcast sky in my life. I’m feeling worlds better than Tuesday. And even better than when Saturday when I replied to many of your comments.

I am working with a therapist at the Postpartum Stress Center in Rosemont, PA and we have come up with a solution that can make me an even better mom: have someone else care for my son part-time. Whether that means part-time daycare or a part-time nanny, it will allow me the space and opportunity to take of myself while supporting my family. While I was pregnant, my husband and I decided that I should be a “full-time” stay-at-home mom and work part-time (I work at a library 2 to 3 days a week). Now, it’s looking as though I will be a “part-time” stay-at-home mom who also works part-time. Perhaps getting another caregiver to help me with my son is not me being a bad mom; it’s a way for me to keep my sanity, keep myself alive, and keep myself involved in my son’s life.

I have a call in to my psychiatrist to see him sooner than July 29. I had been doing so well…

I don’t know how many warrior moms are reading this, but I can’t say thank you enough to everyone for their encouragement. It means a lot to hear from other women who have been where I am and tell me to keep going.

Also, Postpartum Progress is a major resource that I’ve been able to use (and raise funds for!). I also want to send a shout-out to Lauren H. (@unxpctdblessing) who runs #PPDChat on Twitter. That group of women was there for me before I even got help.

I had hoped to participate in a local Climb Out of the Darkness in my area, but I don’t know if that will happen. In the meantime, here’s a video celebrating many of the warrior moms who have reclaimed their lives against perinatal and postpartum mood disorders.

Mental Health Awareness Month 2014

~ K ~ Leave a comment

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. I don’t really have anything special planned for this blog. Although I probably should.

In going through old posts written in May, I have never once blogged about mental health. I suppose I’ve been so consumed with my infertility struggle that mental health issues really fell to the wayside. It’s something I’d like to change, but when it comes to topics on mental health, my mind is blank now. What can I blog about on mental health that hasn’t already been covered in depression introspection?

I’ve dealt with depression and suicidal tendencies since 1994. I ended up in a behavioral hospital in Jamaica, Queens back in June 2000. In November 2006, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and wrote a post about it. I briefly suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) after a stay in a psych hospital. In May 2010, I wrote a post about trying to conceive with mental illness. Little did I know that was part of my path in my infertility journey. (And little did I know there would be many a “spell caster” ready and willing to help spam solve my infertility problem.) In September 2011, I dealt with severe anxiety. Now it’s May 2014 and I’m receiving treatment for postpartum depression after giving birth in the beginning of February 2014. Since 2004, I have taken the following medications (on and off) to help manage my mood and anxiety disorders:

  • Paxil
  • Lexapro
  • Lamictal
  • Prozac
  • Abilify
  • Effexor
  • Ativan

Not a whole lot of meds compared to some people but it’s a wide and varied history for me. For the most part, I’ve tried to maintain a consistent attitude that medication can have a proper place in treating someone who seriously needs it. Heck, I’m currently on an Abilify-Prozac cocktail currently. I take Ativan for anxiety when necessary. I am not anti-medication.

—

Another thing that I need to work on is being more positive. My postpartum therapist tells me to “be kinder to” myself and to “be patient with” myself. I am hard on myself, in every aspect of life possible: Jesus following, wifelihood, motherhood, daughterhood, livelihood. Nothing is ever good enough for me when it’s done by me. I guess the problem is that I don’t know what being kinder to myself looks like and what being patient with myself looks like. This is something I’ll have to muse on quite a bit.

—

Someone tell me: why is the official color for mental health month puke neon green? Hmm…

 

 

Twitter bio and more…

~ K ~ Leave a comment

I’m constantly trying to figure out who I am. Should I go by my Twitter bio?

Jesus follower, wife, mother, daughter, Haitian-American, Presbyterian (PCA), Beatles fan, pop princess, non-mommy blogger, suicide survivor, and more…

My Twitter bio only allows 140 characters so I’ve always wondered what I would add as “more” if I had unlimited space. But I also want to define how I describe myself in my Twitter bio. So here goes nothing… Continue reading “Twitter bio and more…” →

Learning to Love My Son

~ K ~ 4 Comments

This post isn’t exactly fun to write, but I am making it public in the hopes that it might help someone who may feel similarly. I’ve been seeing posts written by other women about the topic of postpartum adjustments and it feels important to add my voice to the mix. Continue reading “Learning to Love My Son” →

Developing a Routine

~ K ~ Leave a comment

My primary doctor has charged me with developing a routine. I am not a fan of routines as I feel that it ruins the variety of life. But for the sake of wanting to have children, they would need a routine that (I guess) I’d try to gently nudge them into. (When do children ever easily comply with routines?)

The other reason I need to develop a routine is that it would help to regulate my sleep, chronic mono, and bipolar disorder. So here’s my tentative plan for 2013:

  • Go to bed at midnight
  • Get up at 7 am
  • Drink coffee first thing in the morning
  • Take my Virastop, Prozac, and iron pill
  • Do devotions
    • Bible reading
    • Prayer
  • Write blog posts (shoot for a minimum of 300 words)
  • Exercise at the gym for 15–30 minutes
  • Read 10 pages in a book
  • Do the laundry
  • Brainstorm story ideas

Both Michael Hyatt and Steve Pavlina have good tips on attempting to become a morning person. Steve Pavlina’s post has helped me in the past to consistently wake up at 5:30 in the morning. (I also had help from Lamictal, which somehow managed to regulate my circadian rhythm.) I hope that I can once again recapture the former glory I once had.

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I’m having trouble meeting my 300-word minimum requirement so I’ll just end my post here.

Manic-Depressive Life, Manic-Depressive Faith

~ K

It should be no secret to anyone on this blog that I suffer from bipolar disorder (formerly manic depression), although more along the lines of the depressive spectrum. I’m pretty positive that this affects my outlook on nearly everything and how I deal with life sometimes.

I can be a real downer. For days, perhaps even weeks, at a time. I am not a sparkling ray of sunshine 365 days a year although you’d never know it if you met me at my job. I’m pretty much Bubbly Betty or Cheerful Charlene.

For a lot of people, it’s disconcerting to meet someone who’s constantly down on themselves and their lives when they’ve got so many blessings and things to be thankful for. But let’s face it: we all have our own problems and our own sinkholes to patch up. Some are a bit more expressive than others.

I talk too much, want too much, need too much. Continue reading “Manic-Depressive Life, Manic-Depressive Faith” →

Just another manic-depressive Monday

~ K ~ 1 Comment

Perhaps. Not really. But I couldn’t think of anything else to title this blog post that’s a mélange of things swirling around in my head.

I may stop attending the women’s Bible study at my church. You’d think that with a Bible study, I’d attend to—what else?—learn about the Bible. However, every time I’ve walked into the Bible study, I’ve left feeling depressed, hopeless, and sometimes on the verge of despair. No one says anything rude to me or hurts my feelings. Perhaps it’s a spiritual battle that wages once I set foot in those doors but more often than not, I’ve walked in like sunshine and left as a gloomy raincloud. I know people can’t read minds but usually people are so busy with their own concerns, no one really knows it. To be fair, I also don’t stick around to give anyone the ability to detect it.

But for some reason, I’ve come to expect more from the Bible study. Not just learning about God’s word but also being able to connect what we read to who we are and what we’ve experienced. Most of the women in my Bible study do that but for some reason, I feel as though I have a muzzle on my mouth and can’t quite speak as though my experiences are inferior and my pain isn’t valid.

If I’m quite honest, the things that have shaped my experiences in life—apart from God—are my depression and bipolar disorder, two rather disturbing topics. I know not how to speak of much else and the way I look at life is framed primarily by those two lenses. The additional topic of not being able to conceive a child as soon as I hoped eats away at me like freshly laundered clothing surrounded by moths. Very few people know how deeply my pain runs on something that I’ve prayed for a year now.

But with reluctance, I’ve come to accept that even with nearly 5 years of marriage under my belt, God doesn’t want me to have kids at this juncture. However, he seems to be blessing my efforts in obtaining a part-time job, which I’ve seen as a mixed blessing. I submitted applications to four different employers for part-time positions and within 2 weeks, heard back from all of them—one outright rejection; one implied rejection; and two callbacks for scheduled interviews. In less than a month since I applied for a part-time job, I will have already gone through two rounds of interviews for two positions. (Determinations should be made this week.)

While God has been very gracious to me on the job front, I’m broken and dismayed at how he’s kept the door to childbearing solidly shut. I would have happily forgone a part-time job to stay at home and rear a child. The ease with which I’ve been able to interview for two different positions (I’ll likely have my pick when all is said and done) is something that can only come from God in an economy where unemployment is in the double-digits. But I must also acknowledge that the inability to have conceived a child as easily or quickly also comes from God. Based on the Old Testament, Bible readers know God opens wombs and closes them as well. (I’d start sobbing at my computer right now but I’m at a freelance job, fighting back the lump in the throat that precedes tears in my cubicle.) I suppose all I can do right now is redouble my efforts on revising my novel, focusing on making connections in the publishing world, and investing in the necessary tools and resources to help me reach my professional writing goals (the PT job is a step toward that). 

I’m amazed at how quickly God answered something I barely prayed for when He’s also chosen to not answer something I’ve been praying (and cried over) for much longer. Ah, only those who are list-ordering freaks and concerned with “first come, first served” fret over such trivialities. God hasn’t wiped my older prayer off the table; He’s just chosen to tackle the request at the very bottom of the list.

I still grieve, though. Every month. I know I’m not alone but I sure do feel like it once a month. An emotional pain so acute and so intense that it seems almost no one could possibly understand how you feel. I doubt I could survive the emotional turmoil of a miscarriage if the grief of not being able to conceive a child is so bad.

I’ve given up for now. The constant worrying and waiting and wondering each month has been too much of an emotional pendulum for me. And given my history with mental illness, it’s unlikely I’ll ever be cleared to adopt.

I’ve always fantasized of being part of a regular group of gals a la “Sex and the City.” Have a core group of women you trust, can share your life and problems with, and know that they’ll be there for you if you need them. But I’ve merely fantasized about it. Damn you, Hellywood, for making such unrealistic scenarios so attractive!

I’m friendly but I suppose I’m not a real friend-maker. I don’t watch reality TV or any of the popular TV shows that people bond over. At work, I engage people in conversation but keep most of my life and personal details to myself. There’s not much interesting about me beyond the fact that I’ve written a novel, maintain several blogs, like to surf the Internet, enjoy watching baseball, listen to music, and read. I cook but I don’t particularly enjoy it (although I will salivate over delicacies others have made or the stuff on Food Network… mmm…); I don’t garden and never will; and I don’t engage in any hobbies (except for taking pictures of state license plates, the weirdo that I am); and I’m not well traveled (never been west of the Mississippi, ya’ll!).

Yes, I’m a broken record because I’ve said this all before. (“There is nothing new under the sun,” ring a bell?) I love discussing theological topics, baseball scores and news, recommendations of new music, Harry Potter and other good books, and—perhaps—I may go back to engaging in political discussions. I don’t like to discuss celebrity news much (I don’t care what Lindsay Lohan wore to jail) and don’t care about fashion anymore (if the shirt fits, I’ll wear it!)—two examples of topics I view a bit shallow.

See? A mish-mash, rant-ramble on life and relationships. I don’t think I had a point to this post. May be another one of those posts that I take down because it’s gotten too teenage whiny emo and is fit, rather, for Livejournal.

Also unrelated: I am so good at interviews, I toy with the idea of sharing the secret to successful interviews on a community-scale (see FREE classes). What qualifies me to do this? The fact that I am almost always offered a position with any company I interview with. From an interviewee standpoint, I think that’s pretty darn good. Just something I toy with though.

Still searching for an identity… part 3

~ K ~ 2 Comments

Lack of consistency, discipline, and regularity.

My lack of discipline brings me full circle again though I’m not done venting. I look at others who have an incredible amount of discipline–eating, exercising, spending, sticking to routines–I envy them. People have told me I can do anything I put my mind to. That’s a lie. I’m never going to fly without sitting in an airplane and I’ll never be able to professionally fly an airplane.

I’ve tried time and time again to be disciplined and I’m simply not. I can only hope I have a child who is OCD about a schedule and can set Mama Kass straight. Otherwise, I’m doomed. I can hope I stick to a fitness schedule or a good diet but I haven’t been regular with much in 27 years. Well, perhaps brushing my teeth…

So when I desire consistency, especially with devotions, prayer, and reading God’s word, I feel defeated already because the last place that occurred was at a strict Christian college I attended–an artificial environment of sorts. I’ve never been able to maintain consistency of anything in the real world including church attendance. I’m not wired that way. (But we do pay our bills on time, thank God. Maybe inconsistent but not irresponsible.)

If God spoke to me before I was born and asked, “If you could have any talent or any gift, what would you choose?” I’d reply, “Music, Lord. I’d like to sing exceptionally well and play instruments remarkably well.” I probably would have been asking amiss (James 4:3) because I was born (overall) with the gift of writing well. Despite my many insecurities, I’ve accepted a general consensus that I can write a variety of prose fairly well.

When it comes to writing, I’m pretty certain that’s something I should do. In fact, I’m convinced it’s my calling. God gave me writing as my talent and I’m doing to do my best not to bury it. (Matthew 25:14-30) What kind of writing, though? Journalism? Novels? Copy writing? 140-character writing? I don’t know. But I know that I’m called to use the talents God gave me for His honor and His glory–not mine–in an effort to be a servant for Him.

Blogging.

I feel bad about not blogging regularly anymore. It was once a daily part of my life–now, I’ve given it up. What I blogged about daily, depression, is no longer something I dwell on daily. The journey began in an effort to discover whether I was more than my mental illness. I concluded that journey in about 2 years and discovered I am more than my mental illness. I am a Christian, a wife, a daughter, a writer, a Beatles fan, an avid Twitterer–so many more things than “depressed and bipolar.” It’s still a part of me but “in remission.” I’m a suicide survivor with several victories.

Yet here too, I suffer massive guilt because my cessation of regular blogging has also led to a cessation of regular blog reading. And remember my earlier rant about not being consistent or disciplined with anything? Well, that applies to blogging too…