Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Post-Surgical

On Thursday June 21st, I had a D & C. I have been cramping and bleeding for several months. I have had 2 vaginal ultrasounds, and an endometrial biopsy. They came out okay, but I started bleeding about 2 weeks after the last one. So, my doctor thought it would be best if we scraped my entire uterus.
I was riddled with anxiety, and started to fall into another depressive episode. I was inpatient for 13 days, and was in outpatient treatment when I started to bleeding again. So, my mood started to decline. I could have gone back inpatient, but I opted to stay outpatient. I got discharged on the 20th, and got up at 5:15 AM on the 21st.  I had to be at the hospital at 6 AM.
I woke up before I knew it, and was back home by 10. I was hungry, so I had pancakes. Then, I got in bed and slept until 4 PM. I got a snack and went back to bed. I got a couple of calls from Don, but I haven't called him back yet.
I am flat broke. I was in St. Francis in March, CCBH in May, and Patewood Memorial in June.  There is labs, doctors I have to pay. I don't have the money. I think I'll be depressed a while. I need a financial blessing.

sketches of a bipolar girl: Discharge

I discharged today from the partial program at the mental hospital. I am a little wary. I had some really scary dreams the past couple of days. I am always running through the dark woods because someone is trying to kill me. The Shadow People showed up the night before last. At first, I couldn't see them, but I heard them and smelled them.  I think it's just anxiety about my surgery tomorrow. Everyone is telling me it is a common, simple procedure. I want to believe them, but nothing is ever easy for me. I thought I had a urinary tract infection, but it turns out I had diabetes. I thought I had just strained my back. It turned out I had a herniated disc.  You get the idea.
I have not prayed to God for healing, but only that he gives me the strength to get through it. I really just want to go away for a while. I'd like to see my father. Since I will not have any money for a long time, maybe he could come here. If he came on a weekend, maybe he could stay with my sister in Georgia.  She's only a couple of hours away. I just want to hold his hand, and lay my head on his shoulder.
We talked about journals in the 2 PM group. I shared my experience with journals. I've had quite a few. I talked about how I used my journal to deal with rape and molestation. I kept them for a while, but burned them when I was ready to let that part of my life go. This is my journal now.  There really isn't any rhyme or reason to my writings. I just write whatever is in my head. It helps get rid of the bad stuff. Sometimes, some good memories come out.
One thing that has come out of this hospitalization, is that I am dealing with my self esteem issues. Basically, I have no self esteem. I despise almost everything about myself. Although I have been putting on make-up lately, it's because I want to try and see something pretty about my face. I put it on in sections. I don't like looking at my face as a whole because I am so ugly.  But, if I just work on one part at a time, it's not so hard.
I turn in disgust if I catch a look at my body. I am fat, saggy, scarred and blubbery. I know I need to lose weight, but am easily distracted.  Besides, I would be carrying around extra skin.  I don't have the money for it anyway.  I guess I better start walking and stop looking like a tub of lard.
I hope I'm not in too much pain tomorrow. Hopefully, I'll get some good drugs.  Oh well, I better take my meds now and go to bed. I'm up around 5 AM tomorrow. Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Scared to Live

Well, it's father's day. I called my dad this morning, even though I just talked to him last night. I love the sound of his voice. It soothes me, and chases all the demons away. He is another safety net in my life. I know I will be safe with him around.
Don't get me wrong, my mother is my other safety net. She hugs me and all the broken pieces are put back together.  I don't know what I will do when they are gone.  I am trying my best to hone my coping skills so I don't fall apart.
I don't want to bury my parents. I would prefer that they bury me first. I never thought I would live past 45 years old. So, these past 7 years I have been at a loss on how to live my life. I would like to do something useful. I've tried volunteering, but I had panic attacks every time I had to leave the house. I even tried vocational rehabilitation, but that didn't work out either.
It is 8 years since I've had a job. I've been thinking of going to bartender school. I think I would be a pretty good bartender. Right now the only drink I know how to mix is a tequila sunrise. I haven't attended college for 18 months. I still owe them money.
I am in partial hospitalization until Monday. Then on Thursday, I go in for a D & C.  I started cramping in November, and it has only gotten worse. I started bleeding in February, and my doctor did an endometrial biopsy and vaginal ultrasound. Both came out okay, and she said we would just keep an eye on things.  Well, I had really bad cramps and bled last month. She said we should do a D & C and scrap out my uterus, and biopsy everything.
Well, I have been a nervous wreck ever since. I've been falling into a depression all week, which is kind of ruining all the progress I made since being in the hospital. To top it all off, I don't have the money to pay anyone and am currently overdrawn $100 in my checking account. I'm afraid I am going to have to declare bankruptcy again.  All I know for sure is I am scared.

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Childhood

Back to group today. It was good but draining. I shared a lot in processing group. I explain that a lot of my problems with negative thinking stem from childhood trauma. My mom also suffers from a mental illness, and attempted suicide 3 times that I remember while I was growing up. Since adults didn't have grown up conversations with children. I guess it was in effort to protect us. However, a child's mind will seek out it's own answers the best it can.
 I thought that it must have been my fault. I figured that my mom didn't love me enough. See, I decided that if I was prettier, smarter, thinner and had "good hair", my mom would love me and wouldn't leave me. I did everything I could to be what I thought a good girl would be, and I would fix her.
. I remember when she would lay down in the afternoon. I would be very quiet and creep into her room to make sure she was still breathing. I lived in fear of her going away. That turned into an anxiety disorder that caused me, and still does, interrogate members of my family on where they were going, and when they would be back.
 I also lived in fear of the kids in my neighborhood. I was bullied and chased home on more than one occasion. Imagine being 9 years old convinced that your mother would rather die than watch you grow up, and your classmates wanted to kill you.
 Of course I now know that my mom's illness was not my fault or responsibility to fix. As for the bullying, I am still dealing with the fall out. It took away my ability to trust. At times, I still see people as predators waiting in the shadows to attack me. I have been working on it for years, but moving to a new state knowing only 4 people was a vicious blow to my sense of security.
 I have lived here for 5 years, and the only friends I've made are fellow mental patients. I don't have to pretend with them. I am one of them, and they understand how I feel. I have to start opening myself up to people, so I have some friends to hang out with once in a while.
 We went over negative coping skills today. We talked about the most common. My 2 worse skills are sleeping too much and flight mentality. I either go to bed, hoping the problem will resolve itself, or I just let my mind take me on flights of fancy. I am a little worried that one day my mind will float off completely, but for now it gives me some relief. In the meantime, I will concentrating on positive coping skills. I'm going to start gathering my journals, and posts together so I can put everything in some kind of order. I wish you all..Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Disappearing Lady

Wow, I haven't written since September 2017! Sorry about that, but I had to disappear for a while.  Don't get excited, it has nothing to do with espionage or anything. I was simple spinning in a cyclone of moods and medications. Basically, I've been in bed since last year.
I've had many medication changes, panic attacks and suicidal thoughts during this time period. My therapist recommended hospitalization quite a few times, but I refused to go inpatient.  You see, I huddled beneath my blankets and slept 18 hours a day.  I was not eating well, bathing or doing anything to show I cared about myself.
I stood out in the cold rain a few times, hoping to get pneumonia.  It didn't work. I burned myself with cigarettes a few times to focus on a different kind of pain, but that didn't work either. I spent my awake hours in my room streaming TV shows. I even ate in my room. I didn't cry very much. I just mostly stared at my computer.  I wasn't taking my medication as prescribed or checking my blood sugar.  This led to a week in the hospital because my blood sugar spiked to 800 mg/dl.  I should have been in a coma, that's kind of what I was going for, but my mom intervened. I crept out of my room on one afternoon to get something to eat, but I was weak, dizzy, and falling down. So, my uncle helped me to the car and we went to the hospital.  I could barely say my name, didn't know the day or year and I passed out.
I awoke in intensive care, not remembering much of anything. It took 6 days to get it together. That was in March of this year. I came home and had a nurse come by for 2 weeks. I got a nutritionist to help me with a diabetic diet. Unfortunately, I was still in the middle of a depressive episode that was getting worse.
I had totally cut myself off from everyone. I wasn't posting on Facebook or answering the phone. I was convinced that someone was watching me. I didn't wear any clothes without holes in them. I walked around barefoot and stopped eating again.
In May, I saw my therapist, and all hell broke lose. I was hysterical, and told her I was finished. I confessed to having a suicide plan. The office called the hospital, but I refused to go until after I saw my psychiatrist. I had to contract for safety or they wouldn't let me go home. I saw the doctor on May 17th. I agreed to go to the hospital for an assessment for outpatient treatment.  However, the doctor committed me. I was inpatient from May 17th to the 30th. I think I slept the first 2 days. I don't really remember much.  But as the days went on I felt better.  I discovered that some of the things I thought I had dealt with were still very much in my mind. 
I am starting from scratch on learning the coping skills and recognizing my triggers. I am about a 5 on the scale of 1 to 10 on depression, and a 4 on anxiety. I have been going through my Facebook posts to see which of them I want to transfer to this blog.  I am going to try to put them in some kind of order and possibly make a book out of everything.  For the time being anyway, I have reappeared and am doing my best to participate in my life.  The darkness is always nearby, so I will have to be careful not to traumatize myself with old memories and flashbacks. That's all for now. I wish you Peace, Joy, Love - B