Manic Depression @ MindSay

April fourth; poem four.

 

 MANIA’S ADDICTION

 

One more time, I cry in pain

Distraught, alone in tremors lain

My need is great; I need that high

Need to feel on wings I fly

 

How can I bear nothing happening?

How to survive the depressive aching?

One more hit, just one more shot

Maybe this one is all I’ve got

 

Sex or drugs or alcohol

It’s all the same—perhaps Demerol?

Anything to hide these blues

Would anyone like to wear my shoes?

 

Oh yes, he looks; I’ll have my way

I’ll knock this thing for one more day

Drown in the arms of attention’s wine

Though tomorrow morn I’ll feel like swine

 

Self-destruction; me, all but lost

At what a debilitating cost

No way out, it seems I’m doomed

Can’t help myself up from the gloom

 

Just one more buzz, just one more high

Just one more…something…to get me by

Whee! I’m up; I’m invincible

Yet in the end, dispensable

 

To God I’ve cried in agony

Won’t you take this cup from me?

Throughout the years, I tried to see

A way to live successfully

 

I knew I’d never go it alone

Could never do this on my own

My will was lost when the surge took over

I was like a drunk who could not get sober

 

Finally, I dragged myself to see

Someone who had the sense to be

My fortitude, and push me through

To her I owe my gratitude

 

God was there, all the time

Knowing in his grace sublime

That he had called great docs like Luke

And that I had seen one was not a fluke

 

This was his way of touching me

When I had “bottomed out”, you see

For had any offered this help before

I certainly would have slammed the door

 

Now, steady goes it; I miss the high

That little fact, I can’t deny

But knowing an even keel is best

My mind and soul have found sweet rest.

 

Bonniegirl

April 4, 2008

 

 

 

 

Well, its Friday, March 7th. Tomorrow is the 8th. One year ago exactly that I lost my dad. I cant believe a year is gone..... there have been so many ups and downs.... This week has been hard....This whole year has just been something else....... There have been so many days stillthat I want to pick up the phone and call Dad. So many stories I want to hear over again...And I can't. if I dont remember them, they are gone. Always listen to your parents stories, cause one day they wont be around and you'll wish you had paid more attention......

I still need to get a memorial stone for the cemetary. I dont wnat him forgotten. He was cremated and scattered among old family members... We need a marker. Must contact the church and get this done.

my situation is different than most. My mother is mentally ill, and this year has been horrific. I know what Dad went through totally now. we only got the tip of it. he dealt 24/7 with it. Bi-Polar or Manic Depession, as it is known as, is a disease of the mind. it is horrible. for some reason, my mother has never had a NORMAL life even on meds. there was a period of about 7-8 years where nothing much happened, but over the past 6 years I'd say, its been worsening. Nothing seems to control either. Mom will be 70 this year. There is so much we went thru this year with her... I would have to write a book about it to tell it all and I dont have time for that. I dont have time for anything......

 I have been searching for a job for 2 weeks now and I think I finally got one today. The manager was supposed to call me tonight but she never did.... I hope she's not pulling my leg cause I need this job. I don't want to work...... but it has been said that I have to.... we dont meet our bills every month...we are behind.... sigh.... never ending.... so stressed out right now... and tomorrow is the 8th..... March... we lost father in law in March 2004.... I dont like March much...... Things are happening right now with my mom in March that I dont like.... its because of her disease, and it can be inheirted...passed on, and can skip generations.... there's still a lot I dont understand about the disease, never have, probably never will. I dont have a mother anymore, at least in spirit, shes there but not.....

Its funny how people think of men. Being a self proclaimed lesbian with little interest in either sex, (It kept the riffraff down) I'm now starting to focus on what sexuality i might have. While its just a label that doesnt matter, I've realized this is something thats going to come up, and in my head, that makes it something worth contemplating.

 

The kind of man I want to be with is warm, and huggable, filled with smiles. Someone kinda like me, but minus the Manic Depression. Or else one of us will be dead. Messily.

 

For no apparent reason, I'm engaged to someone in World of Warcraft, and he's a honey. I'm kinda wondering, what would he really be like. This fascination with a unique example of the sex caused me to have a vivid dream, and the emotions i felt during it have haunted me all through working hours and further sleeping. My existence has become polluted with thoughts about my ideal partner.

 

Now, I must admit... I have a fondness for women, but i havent met one i could stand in a relationship. Most of the lesbians I've met and flirted with werent very forward. A relationship with them would make me the leader. Unfortunately I dont want that kind of relationship. I want equal partnership. These women... Just. Were.... Well. They werent going to take control and i like control, but i hate being stuck with someone with no decisions. Besides, there was great sexual chemistry, but being the women they were, the novelty of the chemistry would have worn off enough for us to realize that there was nothing there but sex.

 

Yes, i understand, the kind of relationship i have in my head is near impossible... But. I'm trying to make senseof it.

The worst part is that this person is taking up my thoughts, because of a dream i had. I've asked the fates of the universe for help, and Now i'm treating my Bipolar. Now i've asked them for clarity because i needed love and support (companionship) and they are giving me dreams, they are giving me good, solid loving people. Only I fear them. The people they are giving for they strike my heart close. But i want to get to know this man that has so beguiled me and infected my dreams, polluting my thoughts.

 

He may live several hours away... but we'll see where this goes....

 

 

 

 

I may seem all friendly and normal online, heck, just like anyone online, but I'm here to tell ya I'm not always the happy, healthy, friendly kitty lover I want to be all the time -- we're all a series of faces and words inside a box of light and color -- we can't really know anyone completely from just what we read on the screen.  But at least the screen serves as a window; we can look, observe, perhaps even learn, from what we read.  That is, after all, one of the reasons why we log on, don't we?  Yet there is the other reason; the desire to express who we are to the public.  The screen before our eyes serves as our very own personal newspaper column, a place to record our experiences so that the experience of living our lives won't go unnoticed.

 

None of us want to live a life hidden in the shadows.  We all have feelings and relationships that we long to have the world acknowledged.  It seems like without a means to communicate to the world, there is no place for us to connect to reality.  My way of connecting with people in a safe way is to establish relationships and correspondences online.  The screen before my eyes is my filter; I don't have to walk into a room filled with strangers and feel like I'm being accessed by my appearance alone (not that I'm ugly!) -- here I can relax and let my fingers do the talking and sharing.  Here I have an audience of people who are interested in what I have to share.  The computer makes the problem of finding people of a like mind less of a hassle.

 

But unlike the average person, I suffer from a mood disorder that makes getting to know others and keeping relationships more difficult and frustrating than you can even imagine.  I wish I had the abililty to relate to other people well, and I think sometimes I get online and talk about myself in efforts to reach out without feeling like, "Oh, great, at the first sign of me wigging out, this new friend of mine is gonna leave me cold!"  Sometimes that fear of rejection leads me to remain reclusive.  The last thing anyone wants to experience after they've invested so much time and energy in a friendship is to be told that they have too many problems to be worth knowing!  Sadly, this has happened to me time and time again.

 

Usually I can comprehend why it's difficult to know me when my emotions tend to shift so crazy.  As a child I was described by my kindergarten teacher as "overly sensitive" and was often punished for "over reacting" to situations and other children.  I remember many times being spanked by my mother for "crying too much" and for not being able to stop crying.  I remember my mother telling me, "Gonna keep crying?  I'll give you something to cry about..."  And I would try to understand why I was being punished, but all I could think about was that no matter what I did, anytime I would confess the feelings other people learn to hide, I was ridiculed for them.  

 

When I became a teenager, the weeping fits of despair turned violent.  I once stabbed a math teacher with a pencil when she humiliated me in front of the class for not getting an answer right.  I got into fights with boys.  I once broke a girl's wrist for tapping me on the shoulder.  And then there were the numerous attempts at suicide.  It seemed like everything I felt was too much.  When I was happy, I was overly, excitedly, happy.  When I was angry, I couldn't shut off the need to express it by destroying something, anything, to relieve that anger and get back to feeling normal.  And when I was sad, I would weep for hours, sometimes until I lost my breath or consciousness.  My family thought I was reacting this way to get attention.  I can see why they would think this and my heart was broken whenever I was really seeking them to believe me when I told them I couldn't control what I was feeling.

 

It wasn't until I was an adult, after surviving a rape and a suicide attempt shortly after, that I was diagnosed with Manic Depression, or Bipolar Disorder.  For nearly seventeen years I've been in and out of therapy, have been subjected to all sorts of medicinal cures, even tried to go the Shamanic healing route for relief.  A little bit of everything helped, but the worst thing about this disorder is having to lose so many good friends... How could I have told them that it isn't my fault for the way I feel?  I wish I could be normal, but who of us is?  We all have problems we need to work out, except mine tends to rear it's ugly head when I least want it to.

 

But, I'm here to tell you that it's not something I will ever let beat me down.  My name, "Valentina" means strength.  I think that it's a name that fits me well.  I have endured many hardships and my heart's been broken many times, yet somehow I still find the strength to carry on.  Relationships may be difficult for me, but not impossible for me to keep.  Once people realize that I'm gonna freak out every now and then, but for the most part it's not their fault and that they shouldn't feel responsible for taking care of me, they can relax.  Many people with my disorder DO NOT get treated for it because it's difficult for them to admit they have a problem, heck, most don't even recognize that their extreme mood swings are a problem. 

 

No one comes with a billboard describing all their differences and problems so that everyone who meets them on the street can know what to expect from them.  Even if that were so, it still wouldn't be a perfect world because knowing such things upon first meeting someone can often deter you from becoming someone's friend!  My disorder can be life threatening, and there is no cure, but at least treatment is available; a combination of medicine and behavioral therapy seems to provide enough of a buffer so living with a bipolar disorder can be somewhat painless, but it is still very much painful.  All I know is that what makes the pain easier to bare is having the understanding and loving support of friends and family, and having faith and hope given to us by the Gods...

 

Here's a quote I like to pull up whenever friends ask questions about manic depression: 

 

"Manic-depression distorts moods and thoughts, incites dreadful behaviors, destroys the basis of rational thought, and too often erodes the desire and will to live. It is an illness that is biological in its origins, yet one that feels psychological in the experience of it; an illness that is unique in conferring advantage and pleasure, yet one that brings in its wake almost unendurable suffering and, not infrequently, suicide.  I am fortunate that I have not died from my illness, fortunate in having received the best medical care available, and fortunate in having the friends, colleagues, and family that I do." -- Kay Redfield Jamison, Ph.D., (An Unquiet Mind, 1995, p. 6).

 

Often, like you, I ask, "What caused me to have and/or develop bipolar disorder?"  Today, doctors are still discovering more about the problem than they did decades before, but there is still a bit of a mystery about it.  It seems that many factors are involved; genetic predisposition (it's an inherited disorder, running in families, mostly in immediate relations; if your twin sister has bipolar disorder, you have greator chances of having it as well), yet it's not just one inherited gene but several working together, along with factors related to someone's environment, that leads to this illness.  I've read recently that scientists, through new advents in brain-imaging have noticed that the brains of people with bipolar disorder may be different than those of healthy individuals, yet nailing down the genes and brain-parts that make somone more prone to have bipolar problems is still difficult to map out.  So, basically, no one yet knows what makes individuals with bipolar disorder get sick!  All we know are the symptoms and how to band-aid them at best.

 

Here is a list, from the National Institute of Mental Health, of Manic Depression symptoms:

• Increased energy, activity, and restlessness
• Excessively "high," overly good, euphoric mood
• Extreme irritability
• Racing thoughts and talking very fast, jumping from one idea to another
• Distractibility, can't concentrate well
• Little sleep needed
• Unrealistic beliefs in one's abilities and powers
• Poor judgment
• Spending sprees
• A lasting period of behavior that is different from usual
• Increased sexual drive
• Abuse of drugs, particularly cocaine, alcohol, and sleeping medications
• Provocative, intrusive, or aggressive behavior
• Denial that anything is wrong

Episodes of Manic Depression can last anywhere from most of a day, to nearly every day, for one week or longer.  Not all the symptoms listed above are to be found visible in one person.  When I have an episode, it's usually brought on by feelings that something or someone is intruding on my privacy, I feel threatened or humiliated, even possessive at times, and so I react accordingly by defending myself verbally or physically.  Other episodes I have are ones where I feel the need to retreat from reality.  My brother has it worse.  Men with bipolar disorder tend to act out more than just react, leading them to get into fights and, as a result, earning them a reputation for getting into trouble with the law.  One symptom isn't enough to fully bring on an episode; when my mood is perpetually irritiable, there's several symptoms ongoing with me, and I have to stay away from people, even unplug from the internet to keep myself from disrupting other people's peace.  I think the worst thing about bipolar disorder are the depressive episodes.  I'm thankful that I don't often experience the aggression ones, but when I'm down, I'm really deflated, and it takes a lot of effort to get out of bed, much less get out of the house!  I often use the following list, once again from the National Institute of Mental Health, to help my friends recognize the danger signs of a depressive episode:

• Lasting sad, anxious, or empty mood
• Feelings of hopelessness or pessimism
• Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness
• Loss of interest or pleasure in activities once enjoyed, including sex
• Decreased energy, a feeling of fatigue or of being "slowed down"
• Difficulty concentrating, remembering, making decisions
• Restlessness or irritability
• Sleeping too much, or can't sleep
• Change in appetite and/or unintended weight loss or gain
• Chronic pain or other persistent bodily symptoms that are not caused by physical illness or injury
• Thoughts of death or suicide, or suicide attempts

The reason why it's imortant to inform your family and friends about depressive episodes is so that they can help you find help for yourself.  It's dangerous to leave me alone too much because without that little extra boost from a pal, I might waste an entire day not being able to function normally and this could lead to the loss of a job or keep me from experiencing something good, like a concert.  Yet sometimes the depressive episode is too hard to get out of, that's when it can lead to a psychosis; this includes experiencing hallucinations and delusions.  This can also lead to many people with bipolar disorder to be incorrectly diagnosed with schizophrenia and, as a result, recieving the wrong treatment.

 

A few times I've experienced psychosis with my bipolar symptoms, and usually it comes with a very scary male voice telling me I'm worthless -- I can literally hear this voice as if it is coming from someone standing right behind me.  I will be experiencing what I think is a normal day, when that voice comes from behind me and says things like, "I hope you choke, You're going to die, I hate you, No one loves you, Everyone you love is dead," etc.  Accompanying this were terrible migraines, it seemed like every time I heard the voice, my head would swell with real physical pain that would last for days.  I used to do my best to ignore it, and I thought I was the only person in the world who experienced this sort of thing.  I remember going to a tribal elder for help, hoping that perhaps this "voice" was perhaps a bad spirit haunting me and, could therefore, be exercised.  He wasn't sure what to tell me, but he did read about a writer who had a similiar problem; Virginia Woolf.

 

Virginia Woolf suffered many emotional breakdowns throughout her life and some of her manic episodes came complete with a male voice who would abuse her, her dead mother would come back from the dead to put her down, and often she would verbally assault her husband and most trusted friends.  Viriginia lived during a time when manic depression could not be easily treated, and the only drug that seemed to work for some manic depression sufferers was lithium; a drug with many adverse side effects that also served to worsen depressive bipolar episodes, especially since lithium only really worked to relieve acute symptoms.  So she suffered greatly, often taking to bed, her head throbbing in pain and thoughts boiling, and often times her desire to express herself was a boon.  "Virginia's need to write was, among other things, to make sense out of mental chaos and gain control of madness.  Through her novels she made her inner world less frightening.  Writing was often agony, but it provided the 'strongest pleasure' she knew," (The Marriage of Heave and Hell: Manic Depression and the Life of Virginia Woolf, by Peter Dally, St. Martin's Press, NY, 1999).  Reading about Viriginia's experiences helped me to feel less alone, so I began a curious descent into discovering a connection with other artists and writers from history who suffered from my disorder.

 

The link between mental illness and creativity is very real.  Virginia Woolf wasn't the only one to be cursed with an over adundance of mood swings.  These artists weren't just touched with extreme passion, they were often consumed by their passions, and painting or writing were the only means at their disposal to release themselves from being imprisoned in silence by them.  Other artists who suffered from manic depression were Picasso, van Gogh, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Edgar Allan Poe, Samuel Beckett, and Lord Byron, to name just a few.  If you research their histories, you'll also come across information that traces the progression of their disease through family bloodlines.  Many artists have been very upfront about having manic depression, some even attributed their abilities to their madness.

 

But it's not just artists who suffer from this disorder.  Even the likes of Alexander the Great, Winston Churchill, Charles Darwin, Thomas Edison, and Stephan Hawking, again, to name a few, were bipolar.  It's not just me!  Hell, even some famous people today also have to deal with the disorder: Drew Barrymore, Jim Carrey, Richard Dreyfus, Juliana Hatfield, Audrey Hepburn, Anthony Hopkins, Wynona Rider, and Axel Rose are just a few whose behavior can be explained by manic episodes brought about by manic depression. 

 

Not everyone who suffers from manic depression is creative, however, but I can't help but be thankful that I have a creative release, even more, a profession that I can be productive at despite what I have to put up with emotionally from bipolar disorder.  I'm also glad that the medication I'm on doesn't interfere with my ability to create, however there are times when it is difficult, painful even, to work up the energy and drive to create while I am suffering from a depressive episode.

 

Recently I heard from a former friend who proposed we'd do a book project together.  His proposal appealed to me greatly because the subject was dear to my heart and soul, yet I could not do it with him.  I last saw this friend two years ago while we were still in a sexual tryst, and a year ago he got married, and thus ended our relationship.  Things would have been easier on me if I had seen him during the times apart, but instead the experience of the loss of that relationship is replayed now whenever I hear from him.  For a bipolar disordered person like myself, it's nearly impossible for me to revive such a relationship.  Dealing with the person who caused me pain unbalances me; he's no longer percieved as a friend, he's a threat to my peace of mind.  I had to make the decision to protect myself, and that meant cancelling any collaboration with him.  I didn't expect him to understand, but I did what I could to explain.

 

Explaining things here helps me to calm down and rationalize the things that cause me disorder.  Just when I think I'll never have friends or be loved ever again, I have to remind myself, and you, my faithful Mindsay contacts, that being insane isn't the worst thing in the world.  Like most things, it comes and goes, and the time in between episodes is longer as long as I keep creating! 

 

 

 

 

Today was rough for me...emotionally. I just can't be motivated to do anything. My house needs to be dusted and vaccumed. My bathroom needs to be scoured. There are things laying here and there that have a place that's empty...waiting patiently for them to be returned home.

Where am I?
Laying in bed...or sitting at the computer mindlessly staring at the screen.

I was talking to a good friend of mine earlier, and we were going through the symptoms of depression and comparing them to those of the two types of bipolar disorder. I have always been in denial about my problem. I only ever owned up to depression, but never acknowledged the manic parts of me. I didn't want to have to go on medication. Most of my family has had to have meds for depression and other related disorders. I have had people in my family go insane. I know of one who killed himself with a shotgun in a field...a not so distant cousin.

Then I was thinking about how I have lived my life since I refuse to own up to it all and be medicated. The things that I have done that can be directly linked to bipolar II. So many things that I was confused about, so many things that would finally make sense if I would go and get diagnosed. Crying for no reason, insomnia, the incessant unconcious need to sabotage my relationships...the list goes on. Will I go get diagnosed? No. Why? I don't like to change my body with psychosomatic drugs. I didn't do it when I was a crazy teen and I won't do it now. I also refuse to pay the exhorbitant amount of money to a doctor so they can keep me high. There are a lot of reasons why I won't go...the main one being whatever you don't claim, you don't really OWN. Sounds stupid probably but this is my blog and my thought process....so oh well.

Sunday, Grandparents Day, is looming over me like a sickle. I won't be alone, though. Saturday is another subject altogether. I still have to find somewhere to be for at least 5 hours so my men can have their time together.

I got my Lenape language cd in the mail today. I will be learning my native tongue more in depth than I had before. Yay for me.

My son told me that he is so proud of me, that I am brave. What a quirky kid. He sees way too much... or maybe just enough. One day he saw the little dipper when only one star was shining and the night had yet to fall. He said "look, there's a cup like you put water in" and pointed to the location in the sky. My son knows the mysteries that we only dream to catch a clue about.

******
Thinking more about all this stuff that bugs the daylights out of me:

• Our insurance...costs $25 / visit to the doc and $40 copay per prescription. Husband has $120 worth of scrips to fill per month. That bugs me because that's a lot of friggin money.
• No sleep. I like sleep. I like it alot. You don't get sleep after you have a child...and your husband works weird hours at night. Sleep is a thing of the past.
• You can't turn comments of on these posts. That irks me. Yes you can probably do it as a whole, but not individually. I don't know...it bothers me a lot.
• Being far from people that I want to be close to bugs me.
• Having 5 extra pounds that REFUSE TO LEAVE MY WAIST....that irks me.
• Bills irk me.
• Not having 2 cars irks me.
• The fact that I'm even sitting here complaining is bugging me.

/ aggravation for now