Thursday, September 29, 2011

Take THAT!

More pills! Sigh! I went to the Dr. today and I think he is just as confused as I am as to what is causing my anxiety. I must admit I am thankful he only makes minor adjustments or little tweaks of my meds at a time rather than changing the whole regimen at once. I did officially quit the Nurse practitioner that only spent 5 minutes with me. She was very rude when the subject of me seeing another Dr. came up and it just made me feel like I was making the right choice. Soooo at least I only have one cook in the kitchen right now.

This time he upped the Lyrica (for pain and anxiety), added a small dose (5mg) of buspar in the morning in addition to the night time dose (20mg), and I can take risperedol (sp?) as needed for the panic attacks.
I am still on 80 mg extended release morphine a day as well as 5mg endocet 3 times a day. I am finally free of physical pain, which is a miracle in itself, but I have to jump through hoops to go to the clinic in the city and get my meds. I have to find and pay for parking in a busy area off the highway and I have to have a written prescription every month. The Dr doesn't schedule more than 3 weeks out so I cant make my next apt while I am there. I have to call at 3 weeks out and then she only has apts available 5 weeks later. So then at the last minute (like I am now when I am one day from running out) I have to call and leave a message for her to write a script for the time period until I have my appointment. I also have to do ua's to show I am not using anything illegal and that I am taking my pain pills and not selling them. This all may sound reasonable to the average person, but for someone who now has panic about leaving the house alone, driving, waiting in waiting rooms, and is extremely paranoid of a opiate withdrawal from the meds I have to take, it feels like a 3 ring circus.

I hate to say it, but it is so much more convenient to have my friend come over and pay for enough pain pills to last until I get paid again, or go to the liquor store. Staying sober is hard work. I do it because I dont want to lose my kids. I do it because I want to believe there is a such thing as happy and content for a bipolar former addict. I do it because I want to be the best mom I can be and I want my kids to have a chance at a sober happy content life.

I need someone that knows its possible and can help me get there.

My support group points out repetitively that I need support, but that has always been what I have been lacking. This time of year is a big harsh beginning of seemingly endless death anniversary dates followed by lonely Holidays, where I yearn for parents or grandparents or aunts or uncles or cousins or someone, someone who is above me. I am not ready in age or wisdom to bear the title of the oldest elder at every family function.

This turned into more of a rant than an update, but my favorite words lately are "it is what it is." It helps me to be able to put a voice to my overwhelming feelings.






Photobucket

Friday, September 23, 2011

Why My Insanity is Sacred....

DUN DUN DUN!!!!! Well it is the title of my blog and perhaps a reader or two has found themselves wondering "What the HELL is she talking about?"

I do not know how to live in "normal." Every time I have attempted to medicate my bipolar illness, it has become such a huge failure that I go running back to the safe and familiar arms of my insanity. My insanity is having exciting manic phases where I have limitless energy and I accomplish some of the goals I set for myself. It is self medicating with something that enhances my mood and makes life "fun." I have successfully self medicated with meth and almost ruined my life. Won't try that again. I have self medicated with alcohol and don't remember the better part of the nights of two years OR writing the first half of this blog. It was fun, but I won't try that again. I abused my pain pill prescriptions for the last year and found myself living happily in the warm and fuzzy buzz of narcotics.... oh wait, but I spent money I didn't have to buy extra pills, shared them with Bryson, and went to the hospital when I was withdrawing from them. Nope that isn't the life for me.

So what AM I doing right now you may wonder? I am taking my meds as prescribed. I feel like shit. I have no mania and I am living in this incredibly depressed state filled with fear and anxiety. I have no high or buzz to look forward to, not even my natural manic one. Everything is so incredibly blah that I have extreme anxiety that this could really be it for me. Life that is.... you know like a realization, "Wait, what? THIS is IT?"

I am going through every mental health patient's favorite part- finding the right diagnosis/cocktail. Since going into the hospital because I was suicidal, because a Dr. gave me a rather large prescription for narcotics without anyone to follow up with, I have been shuffled around and my meds changed and added, and added, and added.... HELLO I am a person with a family and all of your medications have FUCKED ME UP. I cant sleep at night because I am worried about everything. I only want to sleep all day because I am paralyzed with fear and anxiety. Some of you may remember when my son's anxiety started about a year ago, how I could not understand anxiety, but I was his number one advocate? OH HOW I UNDERSTAND NOW! I have near panic attacks all day long. I keep telling the Drs. (I am seeing two, through two different agencies and trying to figure out which one, if any, is trying to really help me) that I don't feel ok. The one just keeps upping my dose. I had to make a choice to go off of several medications because my panic was so bad I couldn't function and she wouldn't listen to me. She spends five minutes with me and sends me home with an array of side effects, err I mean more medications.

To all of you parents of addicts that know there is a mental health diagnosis for your child- I hope I can be the voice for at least one child out there that is suffering through this hell. It is not easy. I am going to tell you something very important though... I keep working on my sobriety because there is no one enabling my addiction. You would probably be reading the words of a former me (say 7+ years ago) who had not gotten it yet and was still using, except all of my enabling ran out.

The current me is still living in an emotional hell. I stopped self medicating and started going to the Dr. to set a good example for my son. Mom takes her meds like a good girl.... hoping he would see that is the right thing to do, as opposed to what he was already starting to do (self medicate with marijuana) and what has happened? He has watched me fall apart and become a panicking, suicidal, dysfunctional, mess. Never on my worst unmedicated day, have I felt as bad as I have these last few months. It is a total reproduction of what it felt like 10 years ago when I tried to get properly medicated. What if psychiatric medications are not for everyone? They now know that certain meds make bipolar people suicidal.... what if so many more deaths are a result of improper medication, but because the person had a mental health diagnosis, their death is attributed to their condition?

So does anyone want to venture to guess what I am thinking right now? I will save you from thinking on it too long. I want to go off all of these meds and go back to at least knowing what I feel is "real" and is "me," but this time without any form of self medicating. Can anyone tell me how that might be possible?




Photobucket

Friday, September 2, 2011

Introducing: Hopelessness and Despair


I am at an all time low and it feels like my only 2 companions lately are hopelessness and despair. I do not know how I am supposed to make it out of this place. It is so up and down. When it is down it feels like it will never be better again and when it is up, it feels like it can never go so low again. The problem is that it hasn't been going up and the anxiety, worry, and even panic, are wearing me so thin. I am getting through the bare minimums of the day, but I constantly have my hopelessness and despair with me. What if I could just leave them behind somewhere? Set them down like a briefcase with a bomb in it, and leave it behind me.

This is going to take some serious determination to get through. I can't lie, giving up seems like an option and I hate that feeling. I know there has to be a way to get better. I just have to take things one day at a time. For this moment, at least I was able to blog a little. It was hard and I feel very shaky and scared, but it means I made it through one more moment.


Photobucket