For the past few weeks I've been battling a combination of anxiety, depression, and infected bug bites. That last one might sound unrelated except that when your entire forearm or calf or foot or [whatever] is swollen, you can't exercise vigorously. And we all know how important exercise is to bipolars.
Did I mention that I also sprained an ankle?
Right now, I'm not sure how safe I am. I had brief episode of racing thoughts last night which resulted in a "mad scribblings" session despite an exhausting day. Then my husband woke up at 3am to leave for a business trip, mentioned that his car might have been broken into, and then left. I think it took me 2 or 3 hours to fall asleep again. Even better, my first news of the day was "Your last bug bite had a bacterial infection."
I wish I hadn't gotten out of bed.
Part of me wants to smack myself on the head and say "Snap out of it!" I have a pretty comfortable life - not luxurious but then again my idea of luxury is going out for tea everyday instead of 1-2 a week. If I stopped caring about how others perceive me, I could have a lot of fun working on my own projects. Instead, I dread doing housework, I feel unattractive so I hide in sweats, I get stressed out by social interactions so I stay home, I worry about money so I avoid going out, and I don't have anyone local that I feel comfortable turning to in this state. Common sense would say to call a hotline, take more meds, go nap, go to the ER, so many things. But I'm getting so sick of all that. I just want to take a knife and cut off this chapter of my life. I swear that 2012 is out to get me - I experience bad things every 3 years - and I refuse to let myself give in. Yet giving up is so tempting...
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Quiet Solitude
Lately I've been spending most of my time at home. I've noticed that my health has gotten better for the first time this year and my stress levels have started to drop. I think it's because there are very few stimuli here - it's pretty quiet, even with the cars and trains in the background, there's good light, and best of all, I don't have to talk to anyone. My husband thinks that I'll get sick of this soon, but I lived like this for a whole month earlier this year and it was one of the best months in a long time. I think the key might be a combination of independence and safety. When I'm able to focus on my work without worrying about how I appear to others, I can relax more. If my fibro or other illnesses act up, I don't have to feel guilty about lying down. I don't work on anyone's payroll and if I want to go some place like a coffee shop, I can just up and leave. At the same time, I can hide in my apartment if I want and not worry about visitors. My husband's presence sort of "wards" the place against any thoughts I might feel about being abandoned or helpless, a reminder that I'm not alone in a negative way.
It's kind of funny to think that bipolar folks include introverted people. Or maybe it makes sense? I'm not sure...I've been using the things I read about introvert/extrovert natures to help manage my own condition but sometimes I wonder if my reasoning is valid. I guess that balance is a good thing and that I should re-insert myself better into society - but do I really have to?
It's kind of funny to think that bipolar folks include introverted people. Or maybe it makes sense? I'm not sure...I've been using the things I read about introvert/extrovert natures to help manage my own condition but sometimes I wonder if my reasoning is valid. I guess that balance is a good thing and that I should re-insert myself better into society - but do I really have to?
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Ordinary or Manic?
One thing that I have been finding hard to is adapt to living a baseline aka "Normal" or "Ordinary" life. A fellow bipolar friend and recently discussed how boring we are when not manic and how our meds enable us to function on a daily basis but, in exchange, remove the spices of life that brings excitement. These include the obvious things like thrilling intimate moments, surges of creativity, and simply seeing the world in more vibrant color. We feel like our personalities become sapped when we are stable and that we take less risks that might otherwise open us up to potentially positive opportunities.
For me, though, the hardest part is thinking back to all the amazing experiences that I've had because of hypomanic or manic thinking. It makes me go "Wow, I can't believe I did that crazy thing that others would have loved to do" or "Man, I really accomplished things back then". Now, I dress conservatively or in sweats, I don't party dance in public, I rarely shop for myself, I obsess over how to control my public Internet persona, I try to watch what I eat, and I drive myself to finish my to-do list everyday. Some might say that I'm just "growing up" but quite honestly? I really do want to dress up in my Goth gear or questionable outfits, go to a club and let loose, buy that cool thing for myself, post a less than prim picture, eat that greasy pizza, and forget about whether I'm attending the right function or networking with the right person. And I only seemed to be able to do that while slightly out of my mind.
I'll end this post by reminiscing about one of my favorite out-of-mind memories: it was a Friday night in LA where I was living in a ramshackle house near South Central. None of my friends were available to hang out so I cooked some instant ramen and drank a mix of 7-Up and questionable rum found in the pantry. It didn't take long before I got tipsy and started IMing with a random stranger my age I met on Craigslist. After some time, I found myself lying on back, staring at the ceiling fan, feeling euphoric. It's not a particularly exciting nor reckless situation, but my anxiety levels and intolerance to alcohol not to mention my recent newfound responsibilities would totally prevent from me doing that again.
Oh well.
For me, though, the hardest part is thinking back to all the amazing experiences that I've had because of hypomanic or manic thinking. It makes me go "Wow, I can't believe I did that crazy thing that others would have loved to do" or "Man, I really accomplished things back then". Now, I dress conservatively or in sweats, I don't party dance in public, I rarely shop for myself, I obsess over how to control my public Internet persona, I try to watch what I eat, and I drive myself to finish my to-do list everyday. Some might say that I'm just "growing up" but quite honestly? I really do want to dress up in my Goth gear or questionable outfits, go to a club and let loose, buy that cool thing for myself, post a less than prim picture, eat that greasy pizza, and forget about whether I'm attending the right function or networking with the right person. And I only seemed to be able to do that while slightly out of my mind.
I'll end this post by reminiscing about one of my favorite out-of-mind memories: it was a Friday night in LA where I was living in a ramshackle house near South Central. None of my friends were available to hang out so I cooked some instant ramen and drank a mix of 7-Up and questionable rum found in the pantry. It didn't take long before I got tipsy and started IMing with a random stranger my age I met on Craigslist. After some time, I found myself lying on back, staring at the ceiling fan, feeling euphoric. It's not a particularly exciting nor reckless situation, but my anxiety levels and intolerance to alcohol not to mention my recent newfound responsibilities would totally prevent from me doing that again.
Oh well.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
One man's binge...
...is another man's daily groceries.
Whenever I start to destabilize I end up wandering around aimlessly and going on random shopping binges. Most people would probably spend thousands of dollars on clothes or something, but not me. Instead, I buy food. Cheap food. Sometimes expensive food, but usually cheap.
In other words, the kinds of food I buy are in most middle class people's grocery budgets as staples or daily lunches. Today, I purchased:
* Korean red pepper paste (necessity)
* Korean tofu stew base mix (necessity)
* Japanese miso paste (necessity)
* Melon-flavored mochi cakes
* Pepperidge Farms classic cookie mix
* Pillsbury cookie dough
* a Gulp soda from 7-11
Not exactly super cheap but not exactly gourmet. Quite honestly, the kinds of things I'm craving are very "stress cuisine". Dominos pizza, brownies with ice cream and hot fudge, chocolate cake with whipped cream, nachos, waffles, iced tea, fish and chips...daily normal stuff. Not cheap if you're unemployed. But certainly not Michelin-star cuisine.
I hope that this is as far as my binges go. If it stays at this level, I might be able to keep things in check. But if I start buying all my meals out, not matter how cheaply, it will get problematic...
Whenever I start to destabilize I end up wandering around aimlessly and going on random shopping binges. Most people would probably spend thousands of dollars on clothes or something, but not me. Instead, I buy food. Cheap food. Sometimes expensive food, but usually cheap.
In other words, the kinds of food I buy are in most middle class people's grocery budgets as staples or daily lunches. Today, I purchased:
* Korean red pepper paste (necessity)
* Korean tofu stew base mix (necessity)
* Japanese miso paste (necessity)
* Melon-flavored mochi cakes
* Pepperidge Farms classic cookie mix
* Pillsbury cookie dough
* a Gulp soda from 7-11
Not exactly super cheap but not exactly gourmet. Quite honestly, the kinds of things I'm craving are very "stress cuisine". Dominos pizza, brownies with ice cream and hot fudge, chocolate cake with whipped cream, nachos, waffles, iced tea, fish and chips...daily normal stuff. Not cheap if you're unemployed. But certainly not Michelin-star cuisine.
I hope that this is as far as my binges go. If it stays at this level, I might be able to keep things in check. But if I start buying all my meals out, not matter how cheaply, it will get problematic...
Monday, October 1, 2012
Another year, another round
I forgot about this blog. I really did. I think it was a psychological way of avoiding the fact that I do indeed still have bipolar II.
I'm back to where I was last year, although hopefully a bit better. I worked at a good job for a year, got married, came back to a city I call home, and have been getting immersed into my creative work. At the same time, I also experienced the death of an unborn nephew, my mother's continual decline in health, a bad work situation, long-distance relationship strained by many factors, worsening physical health, and living in a place very strange to me culturally. There were so many times where I didn't think I could make it and somehow I avoided landing in the hospital for a crisis. The suicide hotline did get a phone call though and my loved ones were probably stressed out from it all.
For the past 10 months, I've been slowly entering a strange kind of depression. It's a feeling of being overwhelmed, of wanting to scream "I don't have time to be depressed!", of being workaholic so that I don't feel, and then getting run down because I won't stop pushing. I have no income and am therefore completely reliant on my husband. Although I don't have an interest in shopping or expensive hobbies (I'm finally getting free dance classes), food is my greatest weakness and the area that I've been told to cut back on. Health-wise, it's probably a good idea; stress-eating leads to far too much weight gain amongst other issues. It's a vicious cycle though because the less I feel like I'm pulling my weight, the more despondent I get and the more useless I feel. I then take it out on my husband because he's not a very emotional person and is unlikely to make big shows of sympathy.
Worst of all, I haven't had a psychiatrist or therapist since late June. I've had some meds but have been relying on the age-old trick of halving doses to extend my supply. It looks like I can go back to full dose soon since I just got health insurance, but we will see.
The healthy thing to do would probably remind myself that my life is fairly good and stable, but the unhealthy part of me wants to curl up in a corner and never come out. Which side will win out?
I'm back to where I was last year, although hopefully a bit better. I worked at a good job for a year, got married, came back to a city I call home, and have been getting immersed into my creative work. At the same time, I also experienced the death of an unborn nephew, my mother's continual decline in health, a bad work situation, long-distance relationship strained by many factors, worsening physical health, and living in a place very strange to me culturally. There were so many times where I didn't think I could make it and somehow I avoided landing in the hospital for a crisis. The suicide hotline did get a phone call though and my loved ones were probably stressed out from it all.
For the past 10 months, I've been slowly entering a strange kind of depression. It's a feeling of being overwhelmed, of wanting to scream "I don't have time to be depressed!", of being workaholic so that I don't feel, and then getting run down because I won't stop pushing. I have no income and am therefore completely reliant on my husband. Although I don't have an interest in shopping or expensive hobbies (I'm finally getting free dance classes), food is my greatest weakness and the area that I've been told to cut back on. Health-wise, it's probably a good idea; stress-eating leads to far too much weight gain amongst other issues. It's a vicious cycle though because the less I feel like I'm pulling my weight, the more despondent I get and the more useless I feel. I then take it out on my husband because he's not a very emotional person and is unlikely to make big shows of sympathy.
Worst of all, I haven't had a psychiatrist or therapist since late June. I've had some meds but have been relying on the age-old trick of halving doses to extend my supply. It looks like I can go back to full dose soon since I just got health insurance, but we will see.
The healthy thing to do would probably remind myself that my life is fairly good and stable, but the unhealthy part of me wants to curl up in a corner and never come out. Which side will win out?
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