HOW DO YOU TRUST YOUR OWN MIND?

I have many regrets and I have hurt many people over the years. I won’t use alcohol or not knowing I was dealing with a mental illness from an early age as excuses. These are only insights to my behavior. Bipolar started at an early age for me so I didn’t know life without it. People that hear or read this always have doubts. I had doubts because I am skeptical by nature and question everything. If you know me than you know I also research everything.

There was too much evidence proving that it started early, scientific, physical evidence that I couldn’t ignore. The research team at Harvard University couldn’t ignore it either nor could the team at Brown. At the time I was so overwhelmed with this new information I panicked and shut down. Someone else had to speak for me and tell them I couldn’t do what they were asking. I couldn’t be their freak in a lab, locked in a room with no access to my family. They should’ve known how damaging this would be. Even the suggestion of it was terrifying.

There’s a problem with letting your family see you at your weakest. They never forget it. They also never forget all the times you broke their trust while drinking. How could they? Letting my twin sister see me when I thought I was 5 years old and our Mom was coming to pick me up was a huge mistake. Allowing her husband to trigger a Conversion Disorder/PTSD episode like I’ve never had before was another mistake. Her seeing me so out of control and confused about where I was and blacking out gave her ammunition. More to put in her memory bank to bring up later.

She hasn’t been answering my texts about driving from New England to California but has answered other texts.

Today I finally talked to her, as in I actually spoke to her on the phone, it didn’t make me feel better.

She said she honestly didn’t think it was a good idea for me to try to make that kind of trip. She said she didn’t think I could handle it. It’s too far away if something happens and I panic or lose control.

I have been doing pretty well with control lately. I either write out my issues on paper or here. I also use other tools to calm myself down until I can think about a situation rationally.

I know I probably wouldn’t make it all the way but I wanted to try. Now I have butterflies in my stomach and I feel like I can’t swallow. I also feel trapped, like time is passing me by and it’s all too fast. I lost so much time already. I don’t have that much time left. This is something both my dad and sister refuse to listen to me about and they won’t listen to my Doctors. They won’t look at the statistics or my medical records. They refuse to talk about my alcoholism and the amount I drank. How much damage it did permanently both physically and mentally.

I’m not sure if I am thinking clearly or not because I’ve never thought like other people do. I’ve always loved the dark beautiful side of things, understanding human nature, nature vs nurture, survival of the fittest, basic instinct. I would read books and want to be a vampire queen, a Goddess of Rock, The Morrigan, a warrior in a magical land, anything but myself. But I woke up the same every morning. I lived in a fantasy world for a very long time. It was safe there in my books, in my bedroom, hiding from the outside.

My best friend W called yesterday to catch up on things. She asked a question. “Would you get better if the person who hurt you the most apologized? Or if you talked to him and got closure?” I knew where she was going with this. I knew that she had seen and been around him in the last year or so. I told her the truth.

It isn’t about him anymore, it’s about me. I’m not the same person who thought they deserved to be treated like garbage. I have self worth now. I actually pity him because he’s incapable of changing. I will be honest and say that if I saw him do that grin he does I can’t promise that I’ll remain calm. It’s hard to know so I think I’m better off leaving it alone. Do I want him to see me now? Yes, I do. I want to stand in front of him and rub it in his face that I am now a beautiful woman who has more than he ever will. But people like him will never get it. He’s manipulative to the point of being a sociopath.

Her response was “Jesus, you just said everything I was thinking about him and you’re right he hasn’t changed. I was around him 2 times for E’s sake and I couldn’t take it I had to leave early both times. I hate him, I hate his face. I’m kind of glad you said what you did. He had a rule where no one could say “Jesus Christ or for Christ’s sake” in front of him and when I heard that I wanted to puke. That was what did it for me, all I could think about was you and I left.” W understands me better than anyone.

W’s advice about the road trip? DO IT! If you get homesick turn around and head home. you know yourself and how you are going to feel, you’re pretty good at judging when your mood is changing or when you’re going into crisis mode I’ve seen it. Don’t listen to anyone but yourself, don’t tell anyone until your ready and in your car on the highway.

So I’m still confused because I listen to too many people and not to myself. I’ve learned not to trust myself because other people don’t trust my decisions.

Still confused.

PSYCHEDELICS IN MENTAL HEALTH & WHERE’S DAVE?

I shouldn’t keep bothering poor Dave. I’m going to wind up with a restraining order when actually I’m just worried. I don’t want to date him, marry him, touch him (maybe his hair) or anything I just recognize the look in someone’s eyes that I’ve seen in my own.

Psychedelics are the new “IT” drug/treatment for Trauma/Addiction/Depression, the problem is there isn’t enough recent research on the effects of Psychedelics on different disorders to make it a sure thing.

From 1949 to 1973 there were 21 studies published involving a total of 423 patients. Only 4 of the studies used control groups and descriptions of the patients were not very specific. They didn’t differentiate between patients with depression or anxiety disorders. Most of the studies were done on inpatients who knew they were getting a psychedelic drug beforehand. This causes the person to have expectations or preconceptions before the study even started.

What researchers can agree on is that it does help with treating alcoholism/addiction. But funding for more recent research probably won’t happen. Psychedelics are not patentable so there’s no money to be made, patients would only have to take single doses rather then repeated doses. This means less money for Pharmaceutical Companies and they won’t let that happen.

James Rucker, MD, MRCPsych, PhD, of the King’s College London Institute of Psychiatry has done some recent research and gone over all of the old research. The one thing that is concerning is the recent research that suggests patients with a history of Bipolar Disorder, Psychosis, First degree relatives with Psychosis, histories of self harm or suicide attempts should be excluded from Psychedelic use.

People with Mood Disorders have been known to feel “self aware, enlightened or feel they see the world differently” but only for a short time before they enter into a depressive episode.

I’ve researched this extensively and this was the first time I had read this information. I have to say that it makes sense to me from people I know that have tried it.

The brain is so complex without further studies it’s too risky for me.

 

I TRIED TO OWN WHAT I DID IT DIDN’T GO WELL

I tried to own my actions with my brother in law when I talked to my sister last night. It backfired. My sister started yelling a lot and some of it I blocked out. She did say “Every time we talk it’s about death or health when I just want to have a normal conversation! If you wanted to die that bad you should’ve done a better job all those times you tried! I’m sick of hearing all this bullshit!” I hung up. I was trying to take responsibility and show that I’m aware that what happened was partly my fault when I had been blaming my brother in law for the entire thing.

My brother in law was the smallest in his class and went to a school where he was one of the few white kids. He was made fun of or beaten daily. He was also sexually abused at a young age. As he got older he had problems with how he saw his body and an eating disorder followed. The only time he felt comfortable was when he played guitar and drank with his friends.

Music became his life and so did alcohol. He became best friends with a group before they became famous and they treated him like family. They all drank together. They all had their problems. He started to spiral when it looked like his music career wasn’t going to be what he thought it would be. To him music was everything, it was validation that he wasn’t nothing. I understand that now. I understand so much of it now and all I want to do is cry.

Instead I’m scolded again and another person in 48 hours says something similar to how maybe I should’ve done a better job years ago so I wouldn’t still be here. What do you say to that? How am I supposed to feel? I can’t stop stuttering or shaking. I have to hide my tears so I’m not yelled at. I want to go home. I am home.

WAIT WHILE MY LAZY ASS TRIES NOT TO GET THROUGH THIS MANIC DEPRESSION

Manic Depression isn’t as fun as it sounds. I’m more irritable, short tempered, thoughts spin at a rapid pace and none of them are good. I also talk more and cry more, and I’m impulsive. My stutter will come and go as it pleases set off by the tiniest thing. I’m more aware of what’s going on and feel guilty about it. I also feel I’ve let everyone down once again because I can’t/won’t control myself/behavior.

When my family reads or watches something about mental illness that discusses how we benefit from exercise, breathing techniques, and CBT tools they then look at me and wonder why I’m still the same.

No one takes into account that I have more than one mental illness and autoimmune problems. I also have Chronic Kidney Disease and only 1 remaining kidney. I went into menopause way too early at 36/37 and this messes with so much of your bodies hormones and chemicals in your brain. By the way NONE of my doctors have ever questioned it which I find odd. They haven’t questioned the fact that I’ve gone from 5′ 7″ to 5′ 5″ in less than 2 years either. Or that my new body temperature is between 93-94 degrees. I find all of this odd but none of them do. Before anyone tells me to try new doctors I’ve been to so many including the best in Boston only to here “You’re definitely sick we just don’t know the exact cause”. Thanks for nothing.

I can’t exercise when every single joint hurts, I have arthritis throughout my entire body but it’s worse in my hips and spine. My neck constantly feels like it’s broken and my head feels swollen all the time. That could be the 2 cysts that way up inside my sinus cavity close to my brain that no one has bothered to check since 2008. Or the swelling in my brain that no one has bothered to check since 2008. One Doctor said I was looking at hip replacement soon and that was 8 years ago. But let me jog this depression off so you can feel better around me.

I had 2 good days that I knew wouldn’t last when I woke up this morning crying. I had dream that was really a memory. The same one I always have. The chair hits me over the head, I’m pinned to the floor, punched in the face over and over, I feel like I’m drowning in my own blood, I fly down a flight of stairs, and then I’m standing there soaked in blood and no one helps me. My blond hair is stained red and I will have a scar under my chin from a skull ring.

What made me cry this morning was thinking about how my best friend allowed this person into her home recently for a cook out. I’m not invited to cook outs. To be fair he wasn’t invited either but he wasn’t asked to leave. How could she sit there looking at him knowing how much he had hurt me? Seeing the clothes I had to throw away? Her boyfriend loves me like a sister and I can’t believe if he knew who the guy was he would’ve let him stay. I’m hurt and angry. I’m really angry. If I had known he was there I probably would’ve showed up and tried to grille his face. Sorry I shouldn’t say that. I wouldn’t have the strength anyway. I’m just hurt.

Letting go is hard and forgiving is sometimes not possible.

I’ll try to think of my two good days and hope for more.

IS IT POSSIBLE TO FORGIVE AND FORGET?

Forgiveness might actually be a little easier for me than forgetting what was said or done in the first place. Some things I can’t forgive or forget and it’s probably why I sometimes have outbursts of anger. There are also the things I can’t remember.

When it comes to other people like my family I’m lost. My sister can hold a grudge for a very long time. She married a man exactly like her. My Dad is somewhere in between or he would rather bury his head in the sand.

There are times I think up scenarios where I go back to where I used to drink. This time I’m not a fat naïve girl who thinks it’s okay to be treated like garbage. This time I’m a confident attractive woman with her shit together and maybe a hot guy on her arm (I know how petty it sounds believe me). This is because I was repeatedly told that no one would ever want me and I was lucky they let me hang around. I was lucky to be mooed at in public, slapped for not cleaning a place I didn’t live, not buying enough beer, told “I love you” then beaten, but you start to believe what your told after awhile. When you add alcohol to the mix and an undiagnosed mental illness there was no way the situation was going to end well. By the time I left them for good I was drinking a case of Black Label and a pint of Joaquin’s Ginger Flavored Brandy a day. Sorry, Black Label Kingers.

I was bloated, my liver enlarged, I didn’t care about anything or anyone.

I am capable of forgiving more than most people because I fear abandonment and conflict but at the same time I have a strong desire to punch some people in the face. I want to hurt them like they hurt me. The problem is they would have to care for me to hurt them and they don’t. I have to remember that. But there’s still that young girl inside who always wanted to be pretty and popular. Who for once wanted a cute, funny, guy to like her as much as she liked him.

There was a handsome, funny, tall, muscular, blue eyed guy that I liked and got along with not long before I stopped drinking. We would all hang out at W’s beach house. He mentioned one night that he “wouldn’t be good for me” and “he wasn’t a good person” kind of making excuses. I told W it was because of my weight but she disagreed because she never saw me as anything but her beautiful friend that’s why I love her.

A week later the guy is dating a girl I went to High School with who actually drank more than me but was thin and attractive. They fought constantly. He honestly didn’t see me as woman or attractive I know this because of Halloween one year. He was taking pictures and said “Okay let’s get a picture of the sexy girls! A and W!” Yup, I was sitting right there and my name wasn’t mentioned.

So I go into Kidney Failure lose 140 pounds and stop by W’s house one 4th of July to surprise her. I see the guy who is now engaged to the girl A. They had all been drinking so they were a little loud. Everyone was happy to see me but the guy says “WTF! If I had known you were going to turn out like this I would’ve chose differently!” His fiancé standing right next to him. He kept going on and on about how I looked until W’s boyfriend noticed and pulled him away. W’s boyfriend is the most observant person I know and the most caring. At least to me. He always makes sure I don’t feel uncomfortable or eat anything that will give me a gallbladder attack. lol

Anyway that proved my point that it was about my weight. I’ve totally forgotten my point but that’s okay it’s that time of day where I get a bad headache and my vision goes a little blurry. My toes also turn dark red and my feet swell so do my sinuses. Every joint in my neck aches and my teeth/jaw. It’s always something. 9acfcce7f82986b7bc05862f558ba192

BACK ON MY KNEES AGAIN

Dealing with other Mental Health Advocates is not always pleasant. Everyone has their own opinions and agendas. Some people just want attention or to feel better by making other people feel worse. Mental Illness isn’t one size fits all. No two brains are the same and no two people are the same (my twin can tell you that if she decides to take your phone call).

I tried to show kindness to someone and it came back to bite me. The subject was “Hope”. The man was clearly upset and frustrated by the over use of the word because he still does not feel better. He was being attacked by other people who had found “Recovery” and “Hope”. I found myself defending him because I understand how it feels when you see only positive sites and Tweets. You feel like a failure and ask yourself why can’t you be like everyone else once again.

I’ve already spent most of my life feeling like I didn’t fit in I don’t need to feel that way at 44 years of age. I refuse and I won’t be bullied into it either.

Do your research. Some people will never find relief from their illness for various reasons. A late diagnosis, wrong medications given to them before the right diagnosis, autoimmune diseases, kidney disease, brain issues, co occurring mental illnesses, the list goes on. Educate yourself before you decide someone is lazy and doesn’t want to do the work to get better.

I’m losing patience fast and Serotonin is building up in my system so it go either way. My organs will fail or my head will explode from the injustice I see everyday. I’m okay with either at this point I’ve actually done more than most in my life.

Not many can say they went to a wedding with a member of Green Day and actually know one of them or the fun I had in L.A. and the people I met. The crazy situations I’ve been in and the weirdest people I’ve known. Who robs a bank and only takes the change? With no car? Walks home in the middle of the night with bags of change? People I know. Or the guy Manson I knew for years, turns out that wasn’t even his name! everyone called him that because he looked like Charles Manson! Poor Ricky who wore women’s Daisy Duke shorts with nothing else underneath (he could get away with it because he was bulked up from prison and tan from working on boats) but he had 10 kids with 10 different girls and went back to prison every winter. Last time I saw him he had lost his charm from heroin.

Anyway I’ve been able to travel and meet a few of my favorite bands. At one time I had too many friends and went out every night so it’s okay I’m good with whatever happens.

I’D BE LYING IF I SAID I WAS OKAY

Something is very wrong and I don’t know what it is. I’m a different person from day to day, hour to hour and I never know when the change will come. My joints hurt, I have severe headaches, one minute I’m with my Dad at the mechanic’s and the next I’m screaming at him and I start to walk home. I only made it to the shopping mall up the street before my legs gave out and I sat there crying. This isn’t normal.

What part of it is Bipolar or Conversion Disorder? What part of it is my medications? What part of it is actually me? Because I don’t know anymore and the only two people I have are giving up on me.

I’m tired of Doctors not being able to give me a real answer. The Psychiatrist wants to change medications again when I think it’s stupid to do if no one can tell me how my 1 kidney is processing the medications. If it’s building up in my system than why would you want to just give me a different pill? And he keeps saying there isn’t a way to tell when I know they can do blood work. The Kidney Doctors are no better they give me the same answer so does the Gastrologist. I’m tired of it. How many states do I have to go to? How many times do I have to hear “We really don’t know”. I’m not going to pay you anymore then if you really don’t know. What’s the point?

I can’t function. I can’t talk half the time. My dog now is sensitive to what triggers episodes. Today my Dad started to get into a topic that upsets me and the dog jumped in his lap and started growling then howling at him until he stopped talking. He also knows when I’m more than down he’ll press the side of face into mine until it hurts, smushing our cheekbones together. It does make me laugh. That’s one good thing.