A Surprisingly Sane Blog

It’s still sunny in Seattle, and last night the insomnia picked up full force.

Luckily, because mania is awesome like this (not), I feel fully rested and ready to take on the world.

Thank God for the Lithium, or I’d be running full force toward a short bridge when this calmed-down euphoria takes a plunge into dysphoria. Though I have to admit that regardless of how powerful of a drug it may be, it’s really no match for my insane mood swings.

Sometimes, I hate myself.

Current Mood: Alarmed

It’s been sunny in Seattle for the last few days, and while the weather is absolutely beautiful and it’s a a bit of a relief to see a parting of the clouds even for me, I’ve been having some trouble in the bipolar realm lately.

Sadly, it’s a direct result of the sunlight.

See, bipolar disorder has several different parts to it, but the two defining symptoms of the illness can manifest in a number of ways. That means the depression and mania can mean different beasts for different folks. People without depression commonly look at someone with it and think, “Oh, they’re just really sad.” And for mania, “Wow, they never slow down,” or, “They have so much energy,” or, “They’re just so happy!”

Depression can make one irritating to be around because the affected person just can’t feel a positive lift in energy or break out of that somber funk regardless of how hard you or they try to force it. In bipolar disorder, depressions is usually chemical, not situational. There are temporary fixes that are frequently part of an endorphin rush (sex, exercise, getting a promotion, etc), but persons affected by that sort of depression revert back to that downer state once the evanescent high passes.

Mania can run in both directions- it can look like a crazy, energetic frenzy, or it can manifest as a bitter, angry depression from an outsider’s perspective. The first one is more common- euphoric mania. The second, dysphoric mania, is the primary form of mania I struggle with, and probably the main reason I am on such a high dose of Lithium, though I can’t say for certain since I cannot see into my doctor’s head when she looks at me.

I have moments and times of euphoria, and it usually starts with positive energy and quickly fades into its negative counterpart. Without medication, my dysphoric mania looks something like this (though this is from my perspective, so people close to me might give you a more accurate description- I can only imagine the appearance of my illness from an outside view): I get extremely energetic, I run on ridiculous wee hours of sleep, I talk too fast, and I get this frenetic energy bursting from the inside that makes me feel like I’m missing something and desperately have to find it, or I have to suddenly achieve some impossible, unrealistic task RIGHT NOW (law school, anyone?). That lasts for only a short time- maybe weeks at best- because eventually, my body and mind can no longer handle the broken sleep and insomnia. I start feeling irritable over little things, my temper shortens. Then before I know it, I just can take it anymore. I get into circular, irrational arguments with James that make perfect sense to me, but I can see his face fall when he recognizes the Bipolar Conversation coming at him full force, and seeing that makes me even more irate because dammit, I am just fine whythefuckwon’thelistentomeSTOP BLAMINGEVERTHINGONMYILLNESSI’MNOTCRAZY! From there, everything starts to fall apart. My sleep habits worsen. My mood worsens. I feel frustrated, unmotivated, angry. I have too much energy and I wake up from my disturbing dreams of that time I was raped, or finding out I am pregnant again and knowing I’m going to die, and I have to force myself to stop from leaping up and running a marathon. My patience lessens, I stop doing housework and cooking. I don’t want to be touched, my body image suddenly becomes nothing but a horrible focus on that fat bulge at my hips or my prolapse or my stretch marks, and sex leaves me sitting naked on the bathroom floor, knees to my chest, scarcely breathing, and wishing that I had the nerve to kill myself and leave this world and my kids in a better place while I watch James’ heart break from the shear agony of knowing it is impossible to reach into my head and rewire me and make me believe that he loves me and everything will be okay. Because at that time, there is no possible way in my reality that I can be okay.

And then, finally, I crash. I burn. I sleep for pretty much days, and I welcome the 9 solid hours of zzzz’s because after months of that abusive dysphoric mania, I just can’t let my brain think while I’m conscious. I hibernate, barely blog, have nothing to say on Facebook, and I welcome the emptiness. I go to work and smile and laugh on autopilot, and I rarely do anything social. And this, of course, is the depression. The depression that looks more like a lack of energy, motivation, and caring. I’m not sad, I am almost unfeeling. A numbness that nearly denies me the ability to feel even love or pain at its worst. James calls it my “shell”, and the visual really does describe the internal turmoil inside.

And then the sun comes out.

And sunshine? There’s a reason I have always HATED sunshine and preferred cloudy days. Sunshine induces mania in bipolar folk. This would be a good thing for me until you remember that I don’t generally get the happy sort of mania, my mind focuses on dysphoric mania. BUT, it usually starts out as a euphoric mania and switches on me.

Which leads me back to the beginning of this ever-so-slightly manic post of mine: It’s been sunny in Seattle, and yesterday I noticed this burst of energy that left me just a little too happy and enlightened. So I asked James, “Am I acting wired, or am I starting to act manic?” Please, please, no. He kind of grimaced and said, “Honestly, it looks mania to me.”

I had a moment of panic about it lying in bed at 3:30 in the morning after not sleeping at all. I realized that I haven’t had a full-blown manic episode since last year when I almost ran some ugly, passive-aggresive manipulative asshole’s car off a bridge (said person deserved it, I swear) and almost divorced my amazing husband a few months later. After that, there was Lithium, and the mania was under control almost instantly. Every time since then, the “mania” that I have felt creeping up on me has passed on as nothing more than a short stint of its lesser and more gentle cousin, hypomania.

And if this extra energy I feel welling up inside my gut turns out to be just sunshine-induced hypomania, I know it will pass without stupid decisions, without suicide attempts, and without making choices that drastically affect my life only to be lost in translation when the inevitable dark cloud of depressions washes the sunlight away.

One can hope.

Current Mood: Alarmed

Twelve hours ago I was trying to stay calm while my hands decided to play unresponsive. Gross motor skills, like shakily picking up a glass of water together, my hands trembling at the wrist, they could handle. I had almost no finger control or strength- I couldn’t even press the mouse button on Ralph. Or type. My fingers were sloppy, floppy. Talk about being terrified.

So that new drug, Geodon? The one I thought I was having no reaction to?

Um, yeah. Boy was I ever wrong. My brain felt pretty good half the time. So good, in fact, that I couldn’t sleep and I had to scrub everything in sight. Oh yeah, it pushed some extreme mania on me. And I love mania, oh, how I love mania. I could lap it up like a liquid chocolate lollipop. Mania feels like an epic slice of blissful childhood energy. I felt happy mostly. Unnaturally happy. And I was okay with that because mania feels amazing, all powerful. If cocaine gives that kind of energy, no wonder so many people are addicted. If I could bottle that feeling up and sell it legally, I would.

I started off with 10 pills because my pharmacy was out and had to order more. Last night I went to pick up the other 50 pills. I almost choked when I saw the price: over $200. Yes, you saw that right, and NO, we don’t have that kind of extra money to blow. And that was AFTER my shitty-ass insurance paid for a chunk of it. I bit the bullet and paid for it, but I noticed I was having trouble pulling my credit card out of my wallet and signing my name. And come to think of it, I noticed the Walgreen’s basket feeling odd in my hand, like my fingers kept adjusting around the handle, and I couldn’t stop them.

While I was driving home, my left hand stopped gripping the steering wheel. My right hand started to feel really weird, too. By the time I was home, I had lost pretty much all control of my fingers in both hands.

We looked up side effects for Geodon, since that was the only “new” thing I was taking. Sure enough, under the less common, very severe, STOP THIS DRUG IMMEDIATELY OR THE EFFECT MAY BE COME PERMANENT, was “any abnormal muscle movements” along with “muscle stiffness”. My neck and back have been crazy stiff. I hadn’t put two and two together. James called the pharmacist. He said to stop taking it. Oh, and it’s non-refundable even though I didn’t open the bag. It’s the law.

Pair that with the fact that I was awake until 5:00. Love insomnia. Really. The mania causes it- one of the bad side effects of mania.

This morning, my fingers are sluggish. My left hand is still worse than my right, but at least I can type again. My head is still bouncing up and down, and I am far too happy for sleeping only the morning hours. I stopped the Geodon cold turkey, so I’m expecting a pretty hard crash as soon as the drug is out of my system. It’d be glorious if I was wrong.

I am done, DONE with the experimental happy pills. Done.

I don’t care if I’m depressed for the rest of my life and end up driving my car off a bridge. I am fucking THROUGH being a goddamn guinea pig. I just don’t care about trying to fake “happy” anymore. I’ll take somewhat intelligent and having the ability to see through bullshit over “happy”. I at least have those qualities going for me.

Current Mood: Angry

Of the latest atypical antipsychotic, Geodon. Did you know that in addition to sounding like I should be chewing a rock and swishing it down with a swig of vodka, it’s one of those really super fun [insert sarcasm] drugs “they” frequently give to schizophrenic people? Don’t worry, they use it for bipolar people alongside Lithium to combat that fabulous depression, so NO, I’m not *actually* all that crazy…

BAH ha ha aha ha. Love my life, really.

Oh, but where I was going with that: Day three, and I haven’t been knocked out, had a breakdown, almost fallen asleep at the wheel, slurred my works together, or ended up so horny I couldn’t think about anything other than fucking the bejezuz out of James.

In other words, no weird side effects yet, though I think James would readily welcome the last one with open arms.

Current Mood: Happy

After my scary experience with Seroquel, I thought it’d be a great idea to come up with an alternate fix for my everlasting depression. Unfortunately, my little grand plan kind of got a big kick in its optimistic keester.

Bipolar I is a interesting beast. Some people experience some “down time” in between the manic phases and the depression. Others experience one more frequently than the other. I am an awful mix of full-blown mania, hypomania, depression, and suicidal depression all in one. “Downtime” hasn’t ever been my strong point- I’m almost always somewhere in that mix.

The Lithium has done wonders for tricking my brain out of the mania. I still feel a bit of breakthrough hypomania here and there, nights that I can’t sleep because my thoughts won’t shutthefuckup, or I feel the sudden urge to run a marathon, sprint away from everything that I am and my life will always be. But it doesn’t last anymore, thank God. It stops, as if someone gently took my mind’s hand and led it back to the place from which I tried to escape.

Unfortunately, though, my depression has been impossible to beat, even with the extra salty element “mood stabilizer” known as Lithium. The shit they make batteries out of. Yeah, that’s exactly how messed up my head really is- sobering, isn’t it- to realize that I may as well be ingesting batteries? Add that knowledge onto the fact that I have the regular depression to deal with, and you get a teensy look into my little bipolar world.

Would it be a shock to know that I am really quite witty, level-headed, and enjoyable to be around despite all this? Funny how that works. At least I have something going for me.

I’ve been sampling a whole line of drugs known as “atypical antipsychotics” to help neutralize the the depression. The goal is to reach a point where I hang out in “neutral ground” most of the time with just a small amount of that breakthrough hypomania (NOT the full-blown mania) and a smidgen of “down” here and there. You know- like a REAL person!

Because right now, the depression affects my life such that I cannot function sometimes. I’ll stare at the clock at 4:00pm and wonder where the day went while I take care of the boogers methodically, playing games and working on crafts with no excitement except the typical “make sure kids are enjoying this” kind of voice. I can’t get myself to go out social dancing- the mere thought of heading to the Thursday night dance without a DJing gig involved gives me anxiety that feels downright crippling sometimes. Trying to socialize is an effort unlike it normally is for me. I forget that my husband needs to be hugged and cuddled with to feel loved since I’m just not a touchy-feely person by nature, and it affects our relationship. Writing, something that flows thick through my veins as a natural part of who I am, feels forced, the words getting caught in the net of uncaring. Depression… it’s not feeling sadness for me. It’s emptiness, uncaring, and lack of motivation. And I feel pinned down, like I can hear the appropriate response and reaction that I should be having, but I’m unable to come forward and take action because of the restraints.

I had an appointment yesterday to discuss the Seroquel. I thought maybe I had a great idea when I told her that perhaps it’s not another drug I need, but a lifestyle change, and I ran down the list of the ideas in mind to orchestrate this “lifestyle change”. Her face lit up as she agreed that it was a wonderful idea, but then basically told me that no amount of lifestyle changes can really change the depression in a bipolar person. They’ll enhance the quality of life, and she feels they would be an excellent addition to my mental health, but my type of depression isn’t generally controlled by circumstantial elements, so I would still struggle with it despite these changes. In other words: honey, it doesn’t matter what the hell you try to do to self-naturally-medicate your head into happiness, you’re still gonna have to down a pill to help fight this masochistic beast inside of you.

Additionally, after some time, the Lithium’s effectiveness may begin to cease if my depression isn’t under control as well. It has been such a wonderful drug for me that I just don’t want to jeopardize that. And so, my search for the Lithium’s perfect partner to re-wire my head continues.

I have a prescription for Ziprasidone (called Geodon) to try next. Sounds like a rock or something, doesn’t it? Here, some salt, a few pebbles, a little water to wash it down and I’ll be good as new!

Here’s to hoping that maybe, just maybe, this one will be a gold nugget.

Current Mood: Confused