Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Don't Believe the Hype, Hypomania that is

Today is Tuesday, June 30th, 2020.  After a glorious week of feeling great, the crash has begun.  Well, actually, it started yesterday.  I have slept 40 hours out of the last 48.  The alarm goes off, and I throw my hand over to turn it off.  Then, I pull the covers over my head and go back  to sleep.  The only reason I get up is to go to the bathroom.
I have no appetite, but I choke down an egg so I can take  my meds.  Today, I did manage to shower and put on some clean clothes.  I spent yesterday in my pajamas.  I tell myself to do things, but my heart just isn't in it.  Something as minor as brushing my teeth becomes a chore instead of a mindless habit.
My hands are shaking, and my body droops.  My eyes are constantly rolling back into my head as I struggle to stay awake.  I even got a large iced-coffee at McDonald's, but it's not helping.  Caffeine doesn't affect me the way it does other people.  It sometimes makes me sleepy.  I think that's a sign of ADD.  I guess I'll have to mention it to my primary care doctor next week when I see him.
I like being a little manic. I get so much done.  I clean my room, wash everything. I organize my closet and clean my bathroom.  Not that I messy, you understand,  but everything is just clean.  I like clean.  Clutter and dirt tend to freak me out.  I get very anxious when things are out of place.
However, I do know that after mania comes the crash.  That's what I'm experiencing right now.  I can tell you, that as I am writing this, it is taking all my energy, just to hold my head up.  My head is fuzzy and buzzing. 
I haven't been stable for over a year.  Stable for me is a year without a med change.  My meds have changed many times over the past year.  I saw my doctor last week, and she wants to start taking me off some of my meds, because I am on 9 meds for bipolar.  I am a little anxious about it, because I don't want to start falling into rapid cycling episodes.  I don't think I'm stable enough.  Anyway, it's something we'll talk about next month.
When I saw her last week, she said she wanted me to lose 3 lbs to get down to an even 200 lbs.  Well, I have lost 4 lbs.  This is the lowest weight I have ever been in my adult life.  I'm hoping to get down to 150 lbs by the end of December.  It's perfectly doable.  I'm not really even trying.  I don't eat as much as I used to, as a result, my stomach has shrunk a lot.  I just can't take in a lot of food.  Since, I no longer eat a lot of fried food, sugar or meat, that helps too.  I do eat complex carbs, though.  I must admit, I need to eat more fresh fruits and veggies, but that's expensive.
In the meantime, I am just puttering along in my days.  Sometimes, I feel great, other times not great.
In a surprising twist of events, my sister texted me today, to see if I was okay.  How about that?!
I told her yeah, I was just crashing after my high of last week.  Does this mean, she is finally starting to recognize and acknowledging my disease?  I don't know.  But, it felt good that she asked.  I am trying to be more communitive about my emotional state, so they know how to help me.  That's only fair.  They can't read me like my mom could.  I have to admit that, and take some of the blame of their past reactions to my meltdowns.
I'm now exhausted again.  Sometimes, putting my thoughts in an organized, comprehensive way of understanding makes me tired, and I get a headache.  So, I am going to take a nap.  Maybe, I'll feel better later. 
Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Sunday, Funday??

It's Sunday.  It's supposed to be a day to spend with family and friends relaxing around the house.  Well, I don't have any friends around here.  All of my friends are online and live far away.  As far as family is concerned, it's just my sister April and niece, Erica.  Our closest relatives live in South Carolina.  I'm only really close to one uncle, anymore.  The aunt that I lived with, along with my mom, doesn't communicate with me.  Honestly, It doesn't really bother me much anymore.
I've learned some things about myself with this new career path that I'm on, people can be mean and extremely rude.  I'm quickly learning to get a thicker skin.  I've also learned, their attitudes aren't about me.  I mean, I want people to like me, but if they don't it's really their loss, isn't it?
I'm part of a team at work, and we all encourage each other, and applaud each others success.  I can go to my manager at any time with questions, and I am never dismissed.  They truly believe that questions are important.  I am never made to feel stupid or inadequate.  I am enough.  This is the first time in my life, I truly felt part of something.
Anyway, what was I talking about?  Oh yeah, Sunday.  When I was little, we lived in the city, and on Sunday afternoon, we would ride out to either grandparents house for dinner.  It was only like a half hour ride, but it seemed like hours to a 5 year old.  My grandparents lived in the suburbs, but it seemed like they lived way out in the country.  There were fields, and woods and sometimes I would see animals.  It was great, and the air was so sweet.  Those were some good times.  My cousins would be there, and we'd play down at the creek until dinner was ready.
My grandmom was a great cook.  She worked for a wealthy white family as a cook and housekeeper.  They treated her like family, paid into her social security and everything.  They took really good care of her.  I remember when she died, the youngest son was devastated.  He wept throughout the service.
She always fixed a roast of some kind.  We would have beef, or lamb.  Sometimes, she would bake a ham.  Her desserts were magnificent.  She made the best chocolate pudding I have ever had to this day.
After dinner, while the adult children cleaned up, us little kids would go back outside if it was still light out.  If not, we would flop on the floor and watch Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom.  After that was The Wonderful World of Disney!! Those were the days when the whole family watched TV together.  It's starting to come back now, since the virus.  People aren't going out much, plus the streaming sites are putting on more family friendly shows and movies.
I tried watching Bedknobs and Broomsticks by myself last weekend, but I fell asleep.  Last night I fell asleep again with the TV on.  I'm so tired right now. I had an angry dream about my mom again.  I guess I need to talk about that with my therapist tomorrow.
So, what am I doing on my Sunday? I'm laundry!! I love the smell of fresh laundry.  I like to hear the washer and dryer going.  So, I don't mind.  I need to vacuum, but I can't do it because of my back.  I'll have to ask April to do it.  Oh well, I guess that's all for now.  I just had some things on my mind and needed to write so I would keep spinning around in my head. 
PEACE, JOY LOVE - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Life So Far Without You

Hi Mom,
I was just thinking about you and I thought I would write and let you know what's been going on.  It's been  a rollercoaster ride the past few weeks.  My emotions have been all over the place,
About a month ago, I wasn't feeling so well.  I stopped taking my meds, and then I was so thirsty all the time.  Anyway to make a long story short, I ended up in the hospital with hyperglycemia.  My blood sugar had skyrocketed to over 700. 
I was in intensive care for 4 days.  Even if you were here, you couldn't have visited me, because of the virus.  It was kind of nice being in the hospital, having people taking care of me.  No one is looking out for me anymore.  I've had to put on my big girl panties and take control of my own health.  I suppose that's the way it should be, but I liked having someone who could look  at my eyes and tell if I felt good or not.
Things have gotten a little better with April and Erica, now that I have a little extra money coming in.  It's not much, but I did sell a couple of policies that gave me a small commision.  I'm hoping to get another check this coming Friday. 
I'm still working from home, which I hope I can continue to do.  I'm not sure at this point how I would do if I had to hit the road.  When I get bored, I take pictures of the cats and post them on Facebook. I make up things for them to say.  People really seem to enjoy my writing.  Your not missing much on TV. All of the shows had to stop production back in March because of the virus.  I've been watching murder documentaries.  I don't know why, but that stuff just fascinates me.  I know you don't approve and want me to watch something to make me laugh.  A lot of times I do. But, I work from 9-9, so I have to catch what I can during the day.  By the time bedtime comes around, I can barely see.
Speaking of seeing, I need glasses.  I think I need bifocals at that.   I'm getting so old, mommy.  I don't feel like I should be 55.  I guess that's because I'm immature.
I've started calling Dad a lot more often than once a week.  Sometimes, we talk for a while.  Other times, it's his famous 3 minute check-in call.  But, he doesn't seem to mind.  I know I really like it.  I tell him about my job and he gives me advice and encouragement. 
I still see my therapist once a week.  It's going pretty well.  I'm talking a lot.  Which is good I guess.  I had a meltdown a couple of weeks ago, so I've been seeing the psychiatrist more often.  She had to adjust my meds a couple of times.  I think it's finally right.  We'll see in 4 more weeks I guess.
I haven't heard from  Jerry for a long time.  I don't know why.  I miss him.  Tell him to call me or something.
On Friday the 26th, it will be 4 months since you died.  I hope Heaven is all you dreamed it would be.
Tell everyone I said hello.  I love you Mommy, now and forever.
B
 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Hidden Anger

If you ask almost anyone who knows me, they will tell you that I'm a nice, quiet person who is generous, loving and doesn't cause trouble.  Sounds like the description of your average serial killer, right?  Well, that's pretty much me.  No, I'm not confessing to a murder.  I've never killed anyone, but I sure as hell thought about it.
I have found that people who have suffered trauma, have incredible deep seated rage.  They are angry at their abusers, and the people that failed to come to their aid. 
I have plotted revenge on the kids who bullied me while growing up.  I have dreamed of torturing and cruelly castrating my rapist.  There are times when I dream of shooting up places or bombing buildings because of something someone did to me.  But, the difference is, I know right from wrong.  I know it is a sin.  I suppose I need to go to confession about these impure thoughts.
I had a dream about my mom last night.  We were in the kitchen at our house.  I was so made at her.  I snapped at her, and made faces every time she spoke.  When she asked me why, I told her I didn't like her anymore.  Then, I woke up.  I wasn't upset about the dream.  I was just curious.
I thought about it a while and realized, that I was entering another stage of grief. Anger.  I am so mad at her for leaving me.  I have so much to tell her and she's not here.  I don't feel her with me.  It's like she disappeared.  My grandparents still come to me.  Why not her?  Where is she?  Why did she stop coming to see about me?  Does she think I'm doing okay?  Well, I guess I am, but last week, I barely held it together.  Where was she then?
There were times when I was growing up, I hated her.  I hated that she was a paranoid schizophrenic. I hated the knots in my stomach every time I came home from school.  I hated the suicide attempts and everything that went with her disease.
Now that I have bipolar with schizoid affect, I get it now.  But, I still hate it.  I am learning, finally, after 35 years, not to take this anger out on myself or others.  I' channeling it in other directions.  Mostly, I'm working a lot, and writing.  So far, it's working. 
#Peace #Joy #Love - B