HAVING AN EXPIRATION DATE

I’ve been past my “suicide” phase for years now. I still think about it on really bad days but not like I used to when I self-medicated with alcohol. When I self-medicated with alcohol I didn’t just think about it. I’ve been sober close to 10 years now.

Seeing the results of my blood work I was scared. I didn’t know my kidneys were getting worse so fast. They use your GFR to determine when you should go on dialysis or go on the list for a kidney transplant. When the number hits 30 your Doctor starts preparing you for your options.

My GFR was a 40 one year ago. I kept putting off going in for surgery to have my ureteral stents changed. Part of the reason was the Depressive Episode I was in for a very long time. The other part was just fear. You know when something is wrong with your body. I knew I was losing weight again but there was some swelling in my feet and ankles. The color of skin is the same as chalk but with dark circles under my eyes. I’ve lost muscle mass specifically in my temples. I didn’t notice how bad until this morning. They are so hollowed out I could collect rain in them. I’ve been a little short of breath and having trouble doing simple tasks.

I’m pretty sure I won’t make it on a transplant list. I checked again today. If you have a mental illness, a past history of drug/alcohol abuse, or an autoimmune disease, you usually have a hard time getting on the list. I have all three. I have twin who could donate her kidney but before I could ask I was told she wouldn’t. She had to think of her children. Pretty sure her husband had a big influence on this decision.

Because no one knows why I went into Kidney Failure, or why my kidneys are getting worse, no one is sure about dialysis. My other option is to have a tube coming out of each side of my back just under my shoulder blades. The tube would drain fluids out of my system and goes down each leg. Someone has to learn how to clean and change the drains which I don’t have anyone to do this.

Before I make any big decisions I’ll go to my appointment on Tuesday and see how much longer I can keep the stents. If they don’t send me to the ER then I’m going on a Road Trip to Deep Ellum, Texas. I don’t care what anyone says. I have limited time to do what I wanted to do. So I’m going to try it. What’s the worse that could happen? lol

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SHOW ME HOW TO LIVE

I admit I’m afraid. I also admit it’s my own fault. I kept putting it off. I even might of done it on purpose.

The Doctor that changes my ureteral stents wanted to see if I could go a year this time but if I had any problems I should come in sooner. I started having problems around the 6th month. I didn’t call or make an appointment. I ignored the pain, the dizziness, loss of appetite, some swelling in my hands and feet, headaches, change in vision, etc. My Bipolar medications were not working correctly either. I’ve been more than depressed for some time now.

I went online to see exactly when I last had my stents changed. I could also see lab results and notes from surgery while I was there. I wasn’t happy.

When I first went to this Doctor he had to exchange the stents put in by a Doctor that didn’t like me very much. Normally I would think I was being dramatic but I brought my sister with me to 2 of my appointments.

My twin is odd in her own way. She can ignore me and say horrible things but if anyone else does it they better run. She’s gotten physical with a few people on my behalf. Nothing major, she grabbed someone by their lab coat and pushed another person out of the way who wouldn’t let us leave the Hospital.

So when she witnessed how this previous Doctor treated me in his office she wasn’t happy. I wasn’t either. He insulted me in front of the entire team about to operate on me and then told them I was “a difficult patient” and they should be happy I didn’t “bring my guard dog” referring to my sister.

When the Doctor I have now went to change the stents he found the guidewires had advanced up both ureters to both kidneys. On the left side the had crossed over one another. This caused scarring in the ureters.

I also didn’t know my GFR has been declining or that it’s as low as it is. I was told it was 67.

The last three results have been 48, 45, and 40. When it get’s to 30 you’re supposed to start discussing dialysis or transplant.

As far as a kidney transplant goes I highly doubt I would get one. My Dad is on dialysis already and my twin sister has already said no.

If you have a mental illness, have to take specific medications, have a history of alcoholism or drug addiction, have an autoimmune disease, you most likely won’t be considered. I can check all of these boxes.

I have things on a Bucket List left to do. I want to have serious conversation with Dave Navarro. We have a lot in common. There are places I want to see. I would like to see Steven Tyler in concert one more time. I want to spend a day with a pack of wolves. There are so many places I wish I could travel to. Places filled with art, music, food, lights, people, where I can walk around and just take it all in.

 


IF NOTHING CHANGES

Sitting here day after day with little human interaction is becoming both difficult and easier to do. When I do get the chance to talk to someone I actually get a sore throat if it’s for longer than 10 minutes. Luckily for me it rarely is.

I want to change my situation but I’m scared to death to do so. I also feel guilty about leaving my Dad.

I try to remember that he has already lived a full life. He’s travelled all over, done some pretty exciting things, found and married his soulmate, had two children with her, lived, laughed, and loved her for over 45 years. He has 5 grandchildren that love him but he doesn’t see them because he feels guilty that my mom isn’t here to be with them. I find this ridiculous. I also think it’s more about his hearing than anything. He can’t understand what they’re saying so he doesn’t interact with them.

His hearing has become a huge problem. He refuses to do anything about it. He used to love to watch movies with me. He stopped a few years ago because he couldn’t hear the dialogue no matter how loud it was. He has a habit of just agreeing to what a person is saying when he has no idea what was said. This isn’t good when it comes to his dialysis and health. I finally called the dialysis center and told them he can’t hear what they’re saying and is just agreeing with them. They had no idea after the years he’s been there.

I also told them that he isn’t following a renal diet at all and if he says he is he’s lying. I gave them the correct dosage of Prednisone he’s taking because he told them 10mg when it’s 40mg. They need to know these things!! He get’s pissed off and leaves early because his TV isn’t working. It isn’t about the TV, it’s about him feeling anxious so bad he HAS to leave. I told them this also.

I did this because for the last week he’s come home with feet and ankles so swollen they look like wax. They don’t look real. That’s how mine were when I went to the ER. Would he listen? No. Would my sister answer her phone? No.

I’m afraid if I change my environment things will stay the same. I’ll start to talk to someone and they will fall asleep while I’m talking or walk away. Both my dad and my sister fall asleep while talking to me. My dad walks away often.

Maybe I should record my voice reading a book and sell it as a natural sleep aid.

There are no words to describe how it feels when you’re ignored, dismissed, or on the opposite end yelled at for things beyond your control or still held accountable for mistakes you made 20 years ago.

Sometimes I don’t know what I want. I’ve seen the worst of humanity, I’ve been on the receiving end of  humanities worst, but for some reason I still crave human interaction. I still have hope. I just don’t know how much longer that little bit of hope will last.1c69ece744ce08e16a8cfc698acf0e23


A HOLISTIC APPROACH TO SHAME

I know I’ve gone overboard with Social Media over the last 6 months. I usually think before I type but I haven’t done that in awhile. When I realize what I’ve written doesn’t sound right so I try to delete it but sometimes I can’t.

I made a comment on an Instagram post that I guess came across as odd. Someone replied “Are you okay?”. When I read it in my Notifications I had no idea why anyone would ask me that. Then I went to the comment.

I did sound manic and all over the place. I was embarrassed and ashamed. I then noticed another person had replied and I felt angry on top of everything else.

The woman is supposedly a “Mental Health Counselor” and she suggested I should “take a Holistic Approach to your mental illness instead of dangerous medications”.

I wanted to respond but since I am now back on the correct dose of medication I knew that it wasn’t worth it and it wasn’t right to have a discussion on someone else’s Instagram page. I let the matter go.

NEED TO KNOW

I don’t want to give a history of my health to every single person in order to explain my emotions, behavior, mood, or physical symptoms. I feel like I have to or people will assume the worst. The problem is they assume the worst anyway.

THE NATIONAL CENTER FOR COMPLIMENTARY AND INTEGRATIVE HEALTH

The National Center for Complimentary and Integrative Health is the main government agency for investigating non-traditional treatments specifically for mental illness.

  1. Complimentary methods where non-traditional treatments are given in addition to standard medical procedures.
  2. Alternative methods of treatment used instead of established treatment.
  3. Integrative methods that combine traditional and non-traditional as part of a treatment plan.

NATURAL PRODUCTS

Research is still lacking when it comes to the safety and effectiveness of Complimentary Treatments.

Omega 3 Fatty Acids: These may help decrease the risk of chronic schizophrenia but what most people do not know is that this is only the case for young people experiencing psychosis for the first time.

Folate/Vitamin B9: The human body can’t make this on it’s own, some people with mental illness have low Folate levels. The FDA has approved one form of Folate as an add on not a primary treatment for use in depression.

Medical foods, mind and body treatments and vitamins fall under these categories also.

VITAMINS: Anyone on a prescription medication should be cautious when taking vitamins. Vitamins can make some prescription medications less effective or toxic.

40% or more of Americans treat themselves with alternative or “Holistic” medicine without professional supervision or disclosing it to their Psychiatrist/Primary Care Doctor. Many patients use Holistic medicine while taking prescription Antidepressants which can cause dangerous interactions.

THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK

Bipolar Disorder is a brain disorder.

MRI scans of people with Bipolar Disorder are similar to each other but significantly different from people without Bipolar.

When Bipolar Disorder goes undiagnosed and the person is given the wrong medication and self medicates it makes them much more difficult to treat when they are diagnosed.

I remember when my Mom was diagnosed with Lung Cancer. I was devastated. The first thing people said was “Did she smoke?”.

If she did smoke, did that mean she deserved to die a horrible death? People don’t think before they speak.

No one mentioned any Holistic medicine instead of Chemo and Radiation.

When my kidneys failed and I was in the ER, not one person mentioned “Holistic Medicine” as an alternative to saving my life.

Mental Illness is no different, at least for me it isn’t.

I may not always be able to edit myself online but face to face it’s much easier.

It’s easier because I never really talk to anyone. When I get the chance I get too excited and I start to stutter. The shame and embarrassment kicks in.

I would like to know 1 entire day without feeling shame. I know what I’ve put my family through. If I thought vitamins, yoga, meditation, would make it better believe me I would be doing it. Actually I’ve done it.Zen stones in water

 


PUTTING YOURSELF OUT THERE AND REJECTION

I talked to a woman I worked for the other day. I felt good that day, I don’t know why. I actually took a shower, did my hair and make up. Which is good because she’s one of the best Hair Artists I’ve ever seen or known. Yes, I said Artist.

I’ve seen her transform a person to the point they sit there and cry. She gets the clients no one else can handle. The people with curly frizzy hair that everyone wants to throw gel on and send them home with a wet head.

When I first met her I wasn’t expecting much. At the time I had bleached blond hair that was very curly and frizzy but also had some weird straight areas. I’m one of the people that cried. She was the first person to ever blow dry my hair straight.

I think I asked if she could live with me. She inspired me to go to Hair School (where you learn nothing you need to) she’s the one that taught me everything I needed to know.

The problem was the Hair industry is competitive, and you have to be outgoing. You can’t have severe Social Anxiety and succeed in that type of atmosphere. It became too much for me. Her clientele had money and thought it was ok to treat me like hired help. Some of the women wouldn’t let me near them because of my weight. I have pretty good hearing and could hear them whispering about me. One made a joke about how small the salon was she was surprised I could move around. I wasn’t that large. I couldn’t say anything because the customer is always right. I was good enough to bring them coffee and tea though.

I loved the woman I worked for even though she was tough. I loved watching her work and her heart was in the right place. I wasn’t in the right place mentally when I left. I’ve talked to her about it since.

When I saw her the other day she told me to come by the Salon that her sister would want to see me. She also said she wanted clean up my hair a bit and started following me on Instagram.

Of course having Social Anxiety I’m having a problem calling the Salon or going there. I sent her a message on Instagram about a beautiful color she did but she didn’t respond. I also sent her a message about a necklace I made because it has the some colors that would match her new Salon she’s opening. (I didn’t word it like that) She didn’t respond to that either.

This is why I don’t like putting myself out there. I over think everything and start to think she was just being polite and she really doesn’t want me around, just like everyone else.9613332b73db683abf187a2df501d22276270eae18b5d1551612a2892ca36b60.jpg


WHAT MAKES YOU AN EXPERT ON MENTAL HEALTH AND ADDICTION? *Sensitive Subject Matter

I am my father’s daughter. Like my father, when I find a subject I relate to or a hobby I enjoy, I learn everything I can about it. I don’t mean this in a normal way. My father never made it past the 8th grade but taught himself everything one needed to know about most animals specifically birds.

He taught himself how to breed Exotic Birds on The Endangered Species List and obtained a Federal Permit to do so. He was 1 of 11 people in the United States to successfully breed one species. He knew about diseases, diet, flight patterns, temperatures, everything.

I was born into a family filled with addicts and people with mental illness. I spent a lot time around all of them. Both my parents come from big families but mom’s side was a very close bunch and also very dysfunctional. My mom was the oldest and did her best to help her brothers and sisters no matter what. My sister and I always went with her even if that meant visits to the State Mental Hospital or a Group Home.

My sister and I always talked about one of us becoming “crazy” like it would be the worst thing in the world. It kind of was. I already knew it was me, my parents already knew it was me. The only one who didn’t see it was my twin sister. It would take her 20 years to admit I was sick.

I know all the ins and outs of being hospitalized against your will. I know what happens when you swallow a bottle of prescription sleeping pills after drinking a case of beer and a pint of Fire Water. If someone gets you to the Hospital early enough you get charcoal, which I did the first time. If you get there a little later they pump your stomach, which they did the 2nd time. If you fight them they also restrain you.

I know if you cut your wrists a certain way you can do permanent nerve damage. Which I did on one occasion so my pinkie is numb most of the time.

I know after so many visits to the ER for attempted suicides they can keep you and they did. No one came to talk to me or give me any tests, I sat and watched TV with all the other people who were either detoxing or had mental health issues.

I know after about 4 or 5 visits to the ER for attempted suicide a judge can court order you to undergo therapy and see a psychiatrist. I was court ordered several times but no one ever diagnosed me or asked many questions they just handed me a bucket of pills. This is common for State run facilities.

Every single time I tried to take my life I was drunk. I never tried sober. I thought about it sober but never acted on it.

People say “Why didn’t you ask for help?” I say “Because I was drunk, confused, couldn’t get out of my own head, all I could think was what a waste of space I am, how no one loved me, how could anyone love me?” When did I have time to stop and think “Gee I should probably call my sister who is sick of hearing me cry all the time”.

It doesn’t work that way. When you’re in the middle of a tornado you can’t think rationally and that’s the point.

I don’t know why people expect this.

We need to reach people before they get to the tornado.

It’s the only way this will work. If you know someone with a mental illness call them, invite them for coffee, tell them you love them, give them purpose, stop them before the snowball starts going downhill picking up those negative thoughts growing larger and larger.

I want to know I matter. I want to know I’m still loved even though I’ve f*cked up so many times. I want someone to hug me and tell me it’s ok even if it isn’t.

This is why I am more qualified to speak about mental health and addiction than any Doctor or Talk Show Host because I live it and I’m still here.quotes-about-strength-robin-williams-depression-quote-all-it-takes-is-a-beautiful-fake-smile-to-hide


WORLD BIPOLAR DAY

It’s World Bipolar Day.

I have to say I’m almost back to where I started from.

I’m still Above Ground but not for lack of trying. While drinking I tried to kill myself 5 times. The only reason I did not succeed was because I was too drunk.

Things change for you when you actually die and it isn’t your choice. It scares the shit out of you and you view things differently. For awhile anyway.

When you start to notice that the people you love were not impacted by you being in the ICU and being resuscitated you start to give up again.

I’m back to feeling invisible. The stuttering is bad. I watch my Dad’s face as I try to talk. I see anger and frustration so I stop talking. I am not allowed to cry anymore. If he sees or hears me crying I will be yelled at.

I had saved money to try living on my own for 6 months to a year. When I told my Dad all of a sudden he said he was broke and needed more money from me. I gave it to him. This is on top of the bills I pay. Now I don’t have the money to leave. He never talks to me but doesn’t want me to leave. He’s told me things lately that have been so hurtful I can only hide in my room.

My twin sister doesn’t care what’s going on she just shuts her phone off. I have no one to talk to except myself and the dogs.

I haven’t rescheduled my stent surgery like I was supposed to. Part of me doesn’t care. There’s pain on both sides of my back, my pelvis, my head hurts more than anything and I keep falling down. I can’t eat. I don’t care.

No one talks to me. I don’t matter to anyone in my family or my one friend. Why should I bother? Is it worth it to be this alone, filled with anxiety and grief? I’m not sure anymore.1979209_903471546381316_2376864659380596718_o


I SEE YOU

I watched you on YouTube the other day. I was shocked but not surprised. I was more angry than anything. Seeing the blue lips, bloated face, under eye bags, and the bloated stomach made me want to cry or punch you in the face.

You’ve continuously lied about your sobriety throughout the years. I knew you probably lasted a month or two, something wouldn’t go your way and you would be back to where you started.

I also know that you believe drinking wine instead of Jack Daniels means you’re doing better or you’re not “that bad”. I also know that your drinking has cost you career opportunities, lost friendships, and drastically changed your appearance. In your business appearance is part of the job.

You use juvenile behavior and humor to cover up the pain you don’t want to deal with. I noticed this in the 90s when you first started to get into trouble.

No one wakes up and says “I love wine so much, it tastes so good that I think I’ll drink it all day until my lips and teeth are permanently stained blue, I lose my looks, my career, friends and family”.

We drink because there’s a pain or something missing that we don’t know how to explain or deal with. Whether it’s grief, abuse, mental illness, etc. it’s there and instead of recognizing it we self medicate. Sometimes we aren’t capable of recognizing it. We something isn’t right, we different than other people, but we don’t know why and are afraid to find out. It’s easier to self medicate than deal with the real issues.

In the back of my mind I knew from young age I was different. Who wants to admit that they aren’t “normal”? No one. You do whatever you can to fit in no matter the damage it causes.

You will never get better if you don’t ask WHY you started drinking or using drugs in the first place. What were you feeling that first time? I know what I was feeling at that exact moment. I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t pretty, I couldn’t talk, I didn’t look like other girls, I was too quiet, no one was going to like me, I was fat, everyone was going to laugh at me, I could go on and on. After my first few drinks all of those thoughts and feelings vanished.

It’s difficult watching people going down that same self destructive road. I can’t exactly contact them and tell them what I think. First they would think I was insane and it doesn’t work that way.

For some people there is no “rock bottom”. They will drink themselves to death. I would’ve. I had plenty of moments that for anyone else would have been “rock bottoms” yet I continued drinking.

The one thing that helped me to stop was learning why I was drinking.

Once I was diagnosed as Bipolar w/Social Anxiety Disorder and PTSD I finally understood why I felt the way I did from such a young age. I had stopped drinking before my diagnosis but it was extremely difficult. I was staying sober by locking myself in the house. It was no way to live. Finding out there was an underlying reason made a huge difference.

I won’t say I’m in a great place now because I’m not. But it has more to do with my physical health interfering with my mental health. At least I know what the problem is and know how to deal with it.

 


MENTAL HEALTH~ EVERYONE HAS A TELL

I don’t know about other people with Mental Health issues but I know I have specific signs or symptoms when I’m in a dark place. I’ve noticed them in other people and found out later that they are diagnosed as Bipolar or have Social Phobia or both.

What I do and what I’ve seen other people do is the following.

I stop talking or keeping in touch with people.

I tap my foot, rock back and forth, or do some sort of soothing repetitive action.

I hold my head a lot like I have a headache.

I stare at nothing but a million thoughts will be running through my mind. None of them positive.

I have a harder time concentrating or remembering things.

I have trouble leaving the house.

I isolate myself.

I don’t eat much.

I don’t take care of myself physically even if I’m sick I’ll ignore it.

I look for ways to feel worse.

My eyes are dull and I don’t really smile. If I do it isn’t real.

I have no ambition to do anything.

I feel like I want to go home. Like I’m in the wrong place.

No one ever really notices when I’m at my worse. I guess they’re just used to it so they leave me alone. How I could possibly be any more alone than I already am I don’t know.

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SOCIAL MEDIA AND MENTAL HEALTH

Social Media has become toxic for me. I’m an emotional person or someone who doesn’t have great control of their emotions. I often respond to comments or what I see immediately without thinking. Later I over think about how I responded.

Was my response too much? Did I sound crazy? Am I now Blocked or Muted? I then worry so much my daily headache becomes a sledgehammer and my stomach is in knots. All of this over responses on social media that half the time most people don’t read.

Then I get upset thinking that no one is reading my comments or cares what I have to say. I don’t matter.

Then I have the other problem of when someone responds to what I’ve written and it happens to be a known musician. I can’t be happy about it because I know the trolls are coming. And sure enough I’ll have a message in my DM box supposedly from the musician who liked something I wrote except it’s not really them!!

This pisses me off to no end. It took 2 months to get rid of fake Steven Tyler. Not one person from Mr. Tyler’s team could take a second to say “Yes we know about this guy and we’re handling it”. If John 5 can do it I think Steven Tyler has enough people to do it also.

I shouldn’t have to teach myself hacking and private investigating skills to take care of the situation myself. This person got my cell number, I was receiving 10 texts a night. I would block them and he would get around it, all the while insisting he was Steven Tyler.

The person was relentless. He didn’t want money, a bank account number, social security number, or anything else he just kept saying he wanted “true love”. He’s more delusional than I am if he thought that was the way to go about it.

What was making me angry was watching all the women that honestly believed he was Steven Tyler. I’m suspicious by nature and have major trust issues so I wasn’t going to fall for it unless he showed up in a private jet at walked out of it as the real Steven Tyler. I’m not an idiot. Unfortunately when you’re honest about mental illness and addiction people assume you are.

All of a sudden they talk louder and slower like I’m hard of hearing and 5 years old. Sometimes I laugh and sometimes I feel an itch in my right palm because I want to punch them. It’s worse when doctors do it.

I was on Twitter looking up Antique Clock Dealers when for some reason James Woods showed up. I’ve seen him at auctions but not for clocks so I clicked on his Twitter account to see if he changed hobbies. Bad idea.

I should’ve known I would be subjected to Mr. Woods political opinions. The big one was how many “Millions of children have been murdered by abortion in the last 40 years”. Now I’m pretty sure he hasn’t adopted any children, I’m also sure he can’t even take his mother’s dog to PetSmart without being rude and condescending to woman at the counter. I’ve also seen him literally push an elderly man out of his way during an auction. He messed with the wrong old guy because he got sharp elbow in the ribs for his bad behavior. I laughed. (It was my Dad doing the elbowing) I was going to comment on his Twitter account but I was able to control myself. Yay!

Last week I listened to Dark Matter Radio with Dave Navarro except Dave wasn’t there. The group was discussing homeless people and how they probably make more money than they do by panhandling. Some other comments were made. I admit it hit a nerve.

I wrote to them discreetly a story about a man with Schizophrenia who never panhandled. He did odd jobs for an old man that owned a gas station. He chose to be homeless because being forced to take the medications that made him grind his teeth, drool, and shake uncontrollably was too much. Yes, he self-medicated with Heroin for years and contracted HIV. He lived many years with HIV until 2 years ago when he passed away from AIDS related pneumonia. I explained that this man was kind, generous, and funny. His favorite joke was “What’s black and white, black and white, black and white?” I would say “What?” already knowing the answer “A nun falling down the stairs!” He would laugh like a little kid and hug me goodbye. He was my Uncle. I loved him.

I wanted them to see homeless people in different way. I received a response of “Thanks for sharinf” Yup, it was spelled wrong. Who knows who read it but I doubt it was the people who needed to.

As a side note, my Dad told me yesterday he didn’t think he was ever really capable of loving another person. I asked him “Not anyone? Your mother? Sisters or brothers?”. He said “Maybe my mother but that’s it”. No mention of my mother, or his children. How am I supposed to deal with that? My sister said it was my own fault for talking to him. I don’t get it. So I’m on my own. I can’t really enjoy anything lately. Even music makes things worse or I feel let down somehow. Feelin’ broke can’t get fixed.steven-tyler-womens-shelter-920x584dave-navarro


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