Tag Archives: depression

Bipolar Discrimination and Stigma – It’s Getting Old

There are a lot of blogs that I follow about bipolar and Struggling With The Elephant In The Room recently posted about mental illness stigma and work/school/etc.  I shared my story in the comments there, but I thought I’d share it here as well in hopes that one day this stigma will no longer exist and that people with mental illness will be able to be open about their illness without being treated as poorly as I was.

Here’s what I said:

“When I was pregnant with my son, I had to come off all my medication. Obviously, doing so did not have the greatest effects on me. From all the stress plus being pregnant I was constantly physically ill. My job threatened to fire me so I called HR.

I spoke to the “HR nurse” and explained my situation. I had doctors paperwork faxed over documenting my illness (length of time I’d had it, that I had been medicated prior to becoming pregnant, etc) and that one could, in fact, get sick from mental illness. The “nurse” yelled at me and told me there was no such thing and that I was just trying to get out of work. She said it was company policy that I couldn’t miss more than X number of days. I explained I was covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act. She said that basically it didn’t cover for days off due to mental illness as that was not “reasonable accommodation.” I broke down crying on the phone and said that it was unfair discrimination and that basically at this point I was just waiting to get fired.

I was two months away from qualifying from FMLA at which point I would be able to get a letter from my doctor which WOULD allow for days off (I still don’t understand why FMLA covers and ADA doesn’t). So for two months I dragged myself into work throwing up, crying, seeing things, no voice, too depressed to function properly. It was the worst two months ever. I made it, got FMLA paperwork filed ASAP, and took days off as needed. I even had scheduled “mental health days” to try to prevent further depression as just going to work literally sucked the life out of me because everything they put me through and how cruel HR was to me.

I begged to be transferred to a different department for about a year after my son was born and was finally moved in October of last year under a manager who is more understanding of my condition. The HR department is still regrettably the same, but since my manager allows me to take days off without reporting them to HR, it’s not an issue. He commented the other day that I rarely take sick days anymore. Well, yeah, because I’m not stressed 24/7 that I might be fired any second. Stress=sick.

ADA needs to be tweaked a bit for those with mental illness as it is more geared towards handicap, etc. For the mentally ill, it still allows people to discriminate, make life a living hell, and not provide what accommodations are truly NEEDED for someone with mental illness.”

I’m taking a politics class in school and this week’s chapter was about civil rights.  It spoke about the struggles of African American, women, elders, gays, and other minority groups.  It had a section on people with disabilities and talked about how handicap bathroom were required and elevators and such.

Where are the accommodations for those who have illness that is not visible?  Everyone feels sorry for the war vet in the wheelchair, but everyone gives the side eye to the girl talking to herself.  People look at me like I have two heads when I say I have bipolar even if they’ve known me for years and I’ve managed to act just quirky enough for it to go unnoticed.

Better working arrangements need to be made for those who are mentally ill.  I’m largely in favor of “mental health days” and not just those with serious mental illness.  I think everyone could benefit from a day a month or so off to de-stress and have some time to themselves that isn’t a Sunday.

Short term disability should be more accommodating to mental illness.  When I tried to claim short disability, I was met with all types of problems.  I was told I either had to leave work entirely or I couldn’t claim it.  There was no way I could take a week off as need be and be covered.  So if I had an episode and go too depressed to go for a week, it wouldn’t be covered if I applied in advance knowing this would happen at some point due to my illness.  Why not?  I know it’s bound to happen sooner or later.  Why not just let me set everything up in advance?  Because you want to fire me, of course.

I also had a hard time getting accommodations for my anxiety about people sitting behind me.  When people sit behind me, it give me panic attacks.  I told management about this and explained to them they simply needed to give me at least fifteen minutes notice so I could take a Xanex.  I had two managers that REFUSED to do this and would walk in on me mid-conversation with a client, one time causing me to run out my office hyperventilating and crying almost to the point of having to go to the ER.

When the district manager was at my office and I didn’t even mention bipolar (I just said I had anxiety so it wouldn’t sound so crazy) she reported back to EVERY MANAGER IN THE STATE what I had said and pretty much stalled my promotion for a year.

By the way, they promoted a guy that performed FAR below me before me simply because he was African American (thanks, affirmative action).  How about some affirmative action for mentally ill?  I bet promotion numbers for us are even lower than African Americans or any other race for that matter if management becomes aware of the condition.  Talk about “discriminated or historically underprivileged” group.

We need our own civil rights movement.  Maybe we should all get together and do a sit in somewhere.


Crash and Burn

I find myself crashing more on this new 3/day Adderall script.  I also find I’m more tired in the morning taking Lamictal 2/day.  I hate med changes.  The Adderall boost in the afternoon helps, but the mid day crashes leave me exhausted and drained.

On the plus side, the extra Lamictal seems to be helping and I feel less depressed.  Not sunshine and daisies or anything, but better.

Haven’t posted much because there hasn’t been much to say.  I’ve been busy with work and school but generally feeling unmotivated and doing as little as possible to get by with those things.  Where I was making 30 calls a day for work, I now make 10 on a good day.  I was spending 3+ hours a day on school and now if I spend one I’m lucky.  I’m just too tired or something.  I can’t muster the energy or ambition to do anything.

Ambition.  That’s it.  I’m usually such a go getter.  It’s like I just don’t care now.  I’m unhappy with mediocre results, but want to put in mediocre effort.  Clearly a mismatch there.  Something needs to give.  At some point my grades or income will drop and I’ll be in deep you know what.

Hubby and I are going out next weekend.  That should be a nice change of pace.  It’s something we really needed.  Our anniversary is coming up so it’ll be good to reflect on what went well and what didn’t this year.  It’s also a chance to start clean for our next year together.

Look at that.  Some optimism.  Courtesy of Lamictal.  Thank goodness for drug induced happiness.

Hopefully this coming week will bring with it some much needed energy and some serious motivation before things start to go to hell in a hand basket, as my grandmother would have said.


Algebra and Parenting

I’m feeling a little better today, aside from a pounding headache brought on by trying to take a practice algebra test.  My first test (the class is online) is due this weekend, so I was trying to study with the practice exam.  Both the test and the practice are 40 question.  I got through 20 before my head started to kill me and I haven’t been able to get it to stop so I can finish.  Not sure what I’m going to do when I have to take the real test with a time limit.

I played with my son for a while today.  I don’t get to do that much since I’m usually low on energy levels.  Even when I have the energy, I usually don’t know what exactly to do with him.  I’ve been through so much junk in my life that’s it has made me this overly serious person and I don’t interact on that fun, creative, playful level that I used to be able to anymore.  I can be sarcastic and witty, but sitting around playing with toy cars drives me nuts after about thirty minutes.  I feel really bad about it because I feel like I should be doing those things even if I don’t like them because, you know, that’s what moms do.  I’m no good at doing stuff I don’t like to do though.  It’s like my body won’t let me.  If I don’t like something my eyes start to get heavy and I end up passing out.  It’s really frustrating.

As usual, this leaves me feeling like Worst Mom Ever.  I don’t ever feel like a decent mom.  People tell me I am, but they don’t know that I don’t know how to play with my son.  I read to him.  I know how to do that.  I can teach him right from wrong and I’m good with time outs.  I have a short fuse though and I fuss a lot more than I should and I feel bad about that too.  I feel bad about a lot of things I do to my son.  I feel bad that he has to grow up with a crazy mom.

I think that’s all I have to say right now.  Short post for once.  Way to go, me.


The Circle Never Breaks…

So Sallie Mae declined my student loan application based on the fact that I’ve only been at my current job position for 8 months, even though I’ve been with the company for four years.  That and the fact that I work on commission.  Now I’m in the fun position of having literally no money to go to school next semester.  FML.

I mean, really?  They said I need a cosigner.  I can’t get a cosigner.  My husband has shit for credit from a car repo before we got married.  My mom refuses to cosign because she said she tried to help me go to college when I was 18 and I dropped out.

Yeah, I dropped out because I had no goals at the time and had a bit of a nervous breakdown.  I told her I wasn’t on meds at the time and this time was different, even my therapist says so.  She says I did it for the first two years okay, why did I have issues the last two?  Hell if I know.  Why does my brain ever do anything?  Why did I get depressed or manic or whatever the hell I was that I can’t even remember?  I’m pretty sure I was depressed because I recall sleeping a lot and not being able to get up to go to class.  Most of it is a blur at this point.  I’m sure there was a manic episode or two that cause some of those A semesters.  Lots of energy to burn?  Try college!  But the F semesters were more likely depression.  When I got my transcript I could actually see the mood swings in my grades.  Semester one – A, B, A, A.  Semester Two – A, B, C, A.  Semester Three – C, D, F, F.  Semester Four – F, D, W, W.  Not exactly like that, but you get the idea.

She says me going back to school isn’t her problem.  I get it.  It’s not.  But since I got free tuition when I went the first time and she just paid for books I don’t see why she can’t at least cosign for me.  She then went on to say she might be willing to give me some money.  She confuses me so much.  You’ll give me money but won’t sign your name so that I’ll pay it myself?  No, she says, because if I can’t pay it her name will be on it.  Yes, I say, but whenever I don’t have money you help me out anyway so what difference does it make?  Apparently not the right thing to say.  What do I know?

So now I wonder what the fuck is the point of me continuing this semester if I just have to drop after it?  If I don’t have the money to keep on going, why waste all this time now?  I’m giving up time with my family, time sleeping, time relaxing, time working, time doing any number of things that would likely be more enjoyable than studying.  If I’m not going to get a degree out of said time, then why the hell should I be wasting it on school?  Yes, I like to learn, but at my own pace and about things I’m interested in not things that the deities of the school system think I should know.

But alas, the degree is important for my job.  My job was actually supposed to help pay half, but the declined me too.  They couldn’t even be bothered to tell me why.  I wasn’t special enough or something.  I really don’t know what to do at this point.  I need to go, but funds are limited and I’ve spent us in a total hole the last eight months.

I can’t tell my mom this of course.  She knows.  She tells me I spend too much.  Now that I’m mildly depressed I spend in budget, but coming off the high of a manic phase I just couldn’t curb it.  It wasn’t the panicked spending in the thousands of dollars a day I was doing in the manic phase, but it was $50 here, $20 there, $100 there and it all added up.  I just kept needing things.  Don’t know why.  Just had to have them.  Would die without them.  Skincare first.  Then makeup.  Then skincare agin.  Then purses and wallets.  All always one thing I would obsess over and spend on that one thing.  When I’m manic I do that, but also buy loads of other random crap just to spend money.  Coming off the mania, it was like obsessions with categories.  I must have every eyeshadow color this brand has ever made.  I must have every Coach Poppy bag.  My wallets must all mach and I need three.  Does this sound like some type of OCD?  Hoarding?  Something.  It’s not manic spending.  It feels different.  But it’s bad.  Maybe just a shopping addiction.  I always have to be addicted to something.  Better than the drugs, I suppose.  More expensive though.

I saw my pDoc today.  She upped my Lamictal to 300mg to help the mild depression.  We also switched from 30mg XR Adderall am and 15mg regular Adderall pm to 15mg regular Adderall 3/day.  That was my suggestion because I find that the XR lasts less time than the regular.  I take the XR around 6am and by noon I can’t even focus long enough to read a book or listen to a phone call with a client.  When I take my regular dose at 5pm I can focus until around 1am if I really needed to.  So about the same amount of time actually.  But with the current setup I can’t focus from 12pm-5pm.  That’s five hours of me being totally unproductive and generally surfing the internet because I can change the page every five seconds when I get distracted or bored.  Or napping.  Whatever.

I hate these long posts.  I’m sure no one reads them.  They look too long and formidable to get through.  Ultimately I post to vent to myself, but my vanity wants to think that someone somewhere gives a shit about my crazy.  My family can’t stand my crazy though, so why would anyone else voluntarily subject themselves to it?

My husband says he hates himself all the time.  I dislike me a lot right now and I hate my life.  I love my son though and my husband, so I plow on for them.  If not for them, I’d curl up in a ball and wallow.  If it gets bad enough I still might.  I wonder if other people hate themselves often.  I wonder if other people wake up and go “what happened to me” or “what happened to my life.”  I must think that 100 times a day.

I used to be so fun, such a party girl.  I had gotten out of a deep depression and was self medicating, so of course I was fun.  Everyone loved me.  Or hated me.  Not a lot of grey area.  Most people loved me though.  I lit up a room.  I was out ’till four in the morning and staggering into work the next day with stories about having sex in front of four people or dancing on table tops or whatever other crazy shit I had come up with.  The reality check is that I was in a very unhealthy place.  The ideal version I have in my head is that people actually liked me for once.  Plus I was having fun.  I liked me.  I liked my life like that.  I liked numbing the crazy and self medicating.  It’s much more fun than the real medication.

I look back…and part of me really misses that time in my life.  As absolutely fucked up as my life was then, I kinda liked it.  I had no money.  I was destroying my future.  I was destroying relationships with my family.  I was making reckless decisions left and right.  I was filled with wild abandon.  I was let loose and crazy and manic but not in the hallucinogenic type of way.  In the fun way where you destroy your life and think it’s awesome.

Then I realized what I was doing and I got really depressed.  Like, tried to kill myself depressed.  Tried to go to a doctor who turned me away.  Got worse.  Cried all day for months.  I tried to pick up the pieces of my life and I did.  I got a good job, I got married, I had a kid.  All things I had decided to do while manic and messed up, but I held through with my crazy promises to myself.

I stabilized after a while.  Had some episodes here and there.  Had one long episode of depression the whole time I was pregnant and about three months after.  I try to forget how bad I was then because I know I made my husband miserable.  The fact that he didn’t leave still surprises me.

Stabilized for a while again, and had another break about nine months ago.  Screwed more stuff up.  Got to a good doctor.  Got on the right meds.

And now, here I am left with this normal, ordinary life.  And it’s just not enough for crazy, extreme me.  My life is filled with the highest highs and the lowest lows and middle periods?  They get kinda boring after a while.  Right now I’m holding on to “right below the middle” for dear life though.  Not the biggest fan of the depressive side of the illness.

But this normal life, it’s making me itch.  Normal job.  Normal family.  Normal employee.  Normal wife.  Normal mother.  Who is this person?  I don’t like her.  She’s too vanilla.  I want that fun, crazy, party girl back.  But to get that back, I’d have to give up my son and husband.  My son I tried so hard to have.  My husband I’ve worked so hard to keep.  I wouldn’t give them up for anything – not all the parties and self medication in the world.  So why do I still feel like I miss that life?  If I wouldn’t change what I have, why do I ache for what I don’t?  I guess somehow I think I could have both.  I can be nomal!Kira until 8pm and party!Kira when the sun goes down.  History tells me normal and manic don’t go well together, but I sure wish I could have the good things that come with mania normally.  The energy.  The lively personality.  The lack of fear.

Now I’m just here, with my vanilla life, hating myself for wanting something different than my wonderful family.  Well, I don’t but I do.  I don’t know.  I know I hate thinking I might want something different.  I know I hate missing the party life.  Then my paranoia kicks in and I think, what if I can think these things into reality?  What if by the mere passing thought of wanting to be that girl again that somehow my son and husband will be taken from me by some greater act of nature.  A car wreck or a fire or something that takes what’s most important to me away because I wasn’t grateful enough for what I had.  Then I’d forever be missing what I have right this second and I’m here too stupid to enjoy it.  That’s my greatest fear of all – losing them because I didn’t love them well enough.

I’m such a shit wife and mother.

And now I’m officially wallowing.


Shopping, Sex, and Sadness

I’m so exhausted lately.  My classes this semester go until 9:45 at night which means I don’t get home until 10:30.  I have a hard time getting to sleep plus I have a long night time routine so that means I’m asleep around midnight.  Then I wake up  at 5:30am and do it all over again.  Luckily I only have physical classes two nights a week.  My other classes are online.  Still, a 45+ hour work week plus 12 course hours of school is starting to get to me.  Top it off with a mild depression and I’m passing out at my desk.

Last semester even though I was tired I still wasn’t falling asleep at work, so I’m chalking this up to the combo of work, school, and depression.  I’d take my Adderall around 3:00 (when I start to pass out) but then it wouldn’t last me until 10:30 and I wouldn’t be able to pay attention in class or pay attention to drive home.

I still find myself feeling like a bad wife and mother.  I feel like I’m a burden on everyone all the time.  I’ve gotten a lot better at doing things on my own lately, but I still can’t help but feel that all I do is inconvenience my loved ones.  I feel like one day my son will say I didn’t love him or something.  Just the depression talking, but I feel like everyone dislikes me.

On the flip side, I’ve been crazy horny lately.  TMI, I know, but I felt it was worth mentioning because never have sex and depression gone hand in hand for me.  Is this what a mixed episode feels like?  I haven’t had those since I was a kid and used to rapid cycle so much that it was one constant mixed episode.  I forget what it feels like to have both sides of my personality in my brain at once.

I don’t really think it’s a mixed episode though because in the last month my spending has gone down a good bit.  After my last manic episode I couldn’t quite get the spending part under control.  It was like my brain was saying “you spent all that money and didn’t go bankrupt so you didn’t really finish the job.”  I self sabotage too much.  My brain wants me to be dead broke and I don’t know why.  I’ve worked for years savings my money and within a few months of overspending almost all of it is gone.  Granted, I could have blown it all in a day or two plus some.  Not like that hasn’t been done before…but still, I was really proud of saving all that money.  All just to blow it.  So now I’m on a cash and debit only budget and I keep all my emergency credit cards at home so I can’t take an “emergency” lunch break to the mall or Ebay and drop a few hundred dollars in thirty minutes.

Migraines are steady getting worse.  My doctor finally called in my Topamax so hopefully in a week or so they’ll stop.

Is anything in life good?  My son.  I’m happy I have him in my life.  Despite my husband’s inability to stay out of trouble online, I love him.  Like my therapist says…even though we make mistakes we are still lovable.  I don’t feel very lovable.  At her suggestion, I tell myself I am a few times a day.  Not working yet.  Some of my affirmations that I keep on my iPhone app do help, but the lovable one hasn’t sunk in just yet.  Maybe soon.


Migraines, Work, and Medication

I’ve been getting migraines every day for two weeks now.  My insurance started requiring 90 day supplies of “maintenance” medication, so my Topamax prescription was denied as it was a 30 day supply.  As such, I have gone a month without it because my migraine doctor is about 45 minutes out of the way and frankly I’ve been too lazy to call and ask her to call in a refill.  Too lazy to pick up the phone, even though I’m on the phone all day at work.  I have no valid explanation for this.  But after two weeks of insane headaches that are causing me to take random naps on my desk to avoid the pain, I finally called her yesterday and asked that they call in a 90 day refill for me.  Was it at the pharmacy today?  Nope.  Took some Treximet and another nap on my desk.  How productive.

I’ve been at my current location for work six months now.  I’ve yet to tell any of the people that I now work with about my illness.  Since things have mostly been under control, I just come off as kinda quirky.  I guess I’m okay with that.  I have an office to myself, so there isn’t ever an issue of anyone touching stuff on my desk and sending me into a rage of fury because my pen isn’t where I left it.  Plus if I’m feeling unmotivated no one is standing over my shoulder asking why I’m not working every second that I’m there.  I get some down time and breaks, which has been super helpful.  Not every day, but most days.  On days I’m up and ready to work my ass off, I’m left alone to work like mad.  What’s really great is that since no one can see into my office unless they go really out of their way, the constant switches between super productive and totally useless go unnoticed.

Since I’m so secluded at work, talking about my bipolar hasn’t really been enough of an issue for anyone for me to have to bring it up.  The only time that I get concerned is when I have to go to my doctor (which is usually 2-3 times a month) and people ask me if everything is okay and what I’m going for.  Usually I just say I have a myriad of medical issues that need tending to and mention my migraines and then leave them to wonder what else might be wrong with me.  Is it bad I’d rather them think I have some life threatening illness rather than know I’m crazy?  Then they pity me instead of back away slowly and run for the door.

Part of me doesn’t like not talking about it though.  It makes me feel like I’m lying to people, which I hate doing.  My manager said I shouldn’t mention anything unless there’s no other alternative though, so I guess I’m gonna keep on with what I’m doing it.  The times I’ve had to leave over the crazy I’ve just blamed it on a migraine and everyone mostly seems okay with it.  I just have to avoid crying or acting mental long enough to get out the door (so about five minutes).  Usually manageable.

I gotta say, medication that works is truly a blessing.  Every medication I’ve ever taken has caused so many side effects that my head spins, but my current cocktail seems to be working with no side effects at all.  My mood is mostly stable (as stable as it’ll get at least) and I’m not so tired that I can’t wake up until noon or feel drugged up all day.  Xanex days aside, of course.  On a high anxiety day if I have to pop a Xanex I’m out of it for half the day.  Most of my coworkers know I have anxiety though, so I can write that one off as well.

Overall, I’m still mildly depressed but working through it.  I’m surprised at how little I wallow in sadness.  Usually it’s all consuming, but now I just feel more sleepy than usual and have “down” moments through the day where I just sit and do nothing for a while.  Of course, doing nothing is really bad for depression, but sometimes I just can’t get the motivation to do anything else.  It’s usually not for long periods of time so I’m giving myself a pass.  My therapist said I should time these moments and give myself one to two minutes of self pity and then force myself to move on.  I haven’t really tried this.  Don’t know why.  Maybe because I don’t like to be forced to do stuff if I’m not in the mood.  I feel like if I did this I’d be forcing myself to work when I don’t feel like it and the quality of work would be awful and thus not worth doing.  My perfectionist personality rearing it’s head.

We’ll see how this all plays out, but for now I’m hopeful that this will be a short lived and mild depression.


Sunrise, sunset…you’re hopeful then you regret…

That’s this song, by the way. Song of my life.

Yesterday: hypomanic, depressed, hypomanic, depressed, tired.

Today, the only thing keeping me from “mania” is Risperdal and I know it. I kinda always figure if I’m not seeing stuff it’s not really mania. But my thoughts are so fast I can’t keep up. Things look so bright and clear they almost shine. Everything has an aura. I spent money. Lots and lots of money. I think I’ll spend more tomorrow. I had to buy online so no one would know. I expedited shipping, hoping it will come tomorrow so no one knows. I don’t need the guilt trip. Things will work out.

I called the doctor, but it was too late (around 4:30). Hopefully she’ll call back Monday. They said they were open, despite the holiday.

Doubled up on Xanex (2mg). Am at the point 100% convinced it is NOT a mood stabilizer and works kinda like Vicodin does for back pain and such. The pain doesn’t go away, you’re just so trashed you don’t care. My mind is lost to me, but I’m supposed to be doped up enough not to care I guess.

I want to clean the spare room. I want to organize medical records. I want to clean. The Xanex has be to physically tired to be stupid and clean base boards until 3am. My husband has to work Saturday, Sunday, Monday. I do not. I’m so fucked.

I thought this stuff was supposed to help. I’m exactly where I was two weeks ago, minus psychotic hallucinations. Bigger dollar amounts. More projects. Faster thoughts.

Today really sucked because I ran out of low dose Adderall and had to take 20mg instead of 15mg which I knew, just knew was gonna screw me, although I didn’t think it would be this bad. But what do I do? Die on the car ride to work? Kill my son in a car wreck from med hangover? Not an option. At least manic I can drive, although perhaps a teensy bit over the speed limit. I didn’t notice until husband said I was pulling in the driveway like a crazy person. Nothing that would injure anyone though, so still the lesser of two evils. If I have to pick between my health and my son’s safety, I pick him. It’s not right that someone should have to choose. So I take the Adderall. So I can drive. So I can not fall asleep at work, lose my job, and put us on the street.

I have no friends, in case you haven’t noticed. That’s why I was all depressed. Well, that’s what I’m attributing it to because I hate not having a reason. It just cements the illness. Who gets depressed for no reason? Crazy me. So I find a reason once I’m already depressed. Makes me more depressed. Cycle. Cycle. Cycle.

My life is one big cycle. Even in my mostly hypomanic/manic state these last months, it cycles. I’ve been tracking it like crazy so the doctor will do something more drastic. I use 5 for anything that I think is in the range of what a normal person would feel, so “sad” or “happy” could be a 5, if they’re a normal reaction at a normal level. There’s not enough on the 1-10 scale for this to work for me, but I’m trying. Six is light hypomanic/mid-light hypomanic. Seven mid-range hypomanic. Eight full blow hypomanic. Nine manic. Ten worse ever manic. I’ve only gotten down to a four which I’m saying is “mild depression for no apparent reason except the one I made up.”

It takes these numbers and makes a graph. I did it all week. The graph of JUST my hypomania is a roller coaster. In one day it goes 5, 6, 6, 7, 6, 5, 8, 5, 7. You get the idea. It’s all over. With no affect from meds it seems. Adderall seems to make it worse, but I can’t survive without, literally. Xanex has one day made it worse, and the next day right about when it should have kicked in was when I got depressed. I took 2mg about an hour ago and my chest hurts from my heart beating so fast from trying to keep pace with my head. This is why I’m physically sick all the time.

All day, ideas. Great idea at noon. By one, how dumb. At two, no it was brilliant. I feel like I’m 13 again and cycling by the hour. At least I’m not suicidal at noon and manic by two. At least it’s mostly on one side.

But three months of hypomania that keeps pushing through to mania…I can’t do this shit anymore. I think my brain my literally hemmorage from the sheer amount and speed of thoughts.

And once this all stops, I’ll pay the price. The budget that’s so screwed up. The bills for meds and ER trips. The damage to my job. Hopefully no damage to my son…….he seems to be okay with me leaving the room. I’m holed up now because I just can’t deal. WTF do I do tomorrow?

I need something that can work in conjunction with my Adderall. Where the Adderall still is effective at a) helping me focus and b) keeping me from passing out mid-commute. Does this exist?

Things are so shiny. My world is retina display. I think I was better on the drugs the doctors didn’t prescribe, but that’s a dumb thought I’m sure.

I need to go to the hospital, but I can’t. My husband has work. My mom has plans. My job will fire me if I’m “mentally incompetent.” So I’ll keep taking these damn sugar pills and maybe tomorrow they’ll work. I’ll try no Adderall, but when I pass out then what? My two year old takes care of himself while mommy naps? This stuff doesn’t work for moms. Sorry. Find me a better solution.

I need to mediate again, but now is not the time to start. I can’t even try to slow my thoughts right now.

Last night I got a migraine. By the way, my Relax oil cured it. Wish I’d known that 10 years ago. Maybe just luck.

I wish I’d called my doctor sooner.

I hope I don’t lose it again…well, more than I am right now.

I need to stop doing stupid things.

I’ll pay for this if the meds don’t work soon in regret, in sadness, in hopelessness.

I can’t type fast enough to get my thoughts on here. I debated even coming on because I know this is so fragmented and incoherent.

I found a bipolar support group. Maybe I should suck it up and go. I can’t keep going like this. Too many people depend on me.

Why won’t anyone give me Abilify or Seroquel or something to knock this shit out and then I can stop it when Lamictal kicks in? I can’t do this another month.

Glad game: I know what is and is not reality. My husband has not left me. My son is not running from me.

I forgot to eat. How does that happen to me?

I want to scream. Maybe if I’m loud enough everything will seem quiet in comparison.

I wish I had someone to talk to other than my mom and husband. Someone not under some type of obligation to deal with me. They’re worn out. I’m worn out.

I want an Abilify shot if it exists. I want to sleep through the hypomania and mania this weekend is bringing and then recover enough to get to work on Tuesday.

My son will hate me one day. I’m a constant variable. Especially rapid cycle. I’m pissed. I’m sad. I’m energetic. I’m exhausted.

I’m taking sugar pills that make me sleepy, pills to keep me from dying that make me worse, to take more pills that make me sleepy. There has to be something else.

I’m drained. My mind has circled so much just the ideas have worn me out (thanks Xanex, now I can feel bad about not even trying). I love my Xanex – for panic attacks and sleep. For bipolar, it’s useless. Like a pain pill for a serious injury. Masking something horrible so maybe you won’t notice as you lose your mind.

The shiny auras need to stop. It’s making my head hurt.

You know, I’m a decent person. I deserve better than all the shit I get, all the losing hands I’m dealt. I get a few wins (my husband, my mom, my SON!). But I treat mom and husband like crap because I don’t know how to control myself around the people I let into my crazy mind.

Alright, whatever, I’m done with this. I’m done with this post.

I don’t know wtf to do about this weekend. Hopefully not screw us over more financially.

I was supposed to be getting better, and all I am is the same minus floating black Jigglypuffs (scarier than it sounds). With extra paranoia.

Just….fuck. I don’t know where to go from here. I can’t get help from anyone. I hope I wake up better tomorrow. I think I have some non ER Dexidrine from a while back I can sub for Adderall.

Really, what’s the difference between experimenting with these drugs and the other kind? I think the ones I’m on now have worse side effects and fewer results.

I’m exhausted and major hypomanic. How does that happen?

Just….UGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Suggestions welcome. Really. Please.

Note: I have BC now. Add that to the glad game.