It has been months. Posting from my phone.
Haven’t been on FB since early June. Or posted anything.
Lost my beading.
Now I don’t want to tell you how I’m doing.
Because it’s, “not very how.” And perhaps I haven’t been how for quite some time.
And I don’t want to do anything about this.
The only reason I can be motivated at all to try is that I don’t want to go from being a chaotic neutral force in Spouse’s life...
to being a liability.
Well crap... I haven't posted anything since March 31. Okay. Here is kind of what has been going on. I took myself off of lurasidone since I didn't like the lethargy/eating a lot at night that went with that.
My Depression did not seem to be super bad after that. I wouldn't say I was super awesome, but not all weepy or... I don't know. Better than bad.
I received permission (after the fact) from my psych NP to make adjustments to my meds. In general, she said, I have her blessing to make adjustments to my meds. Not to go off of them though-- I mean not off my baseline mood stabilizer (the lamotrigine).
Okay, so then I eventually visited psych NP and she put me on a mini dose (5 mg? I will check when I get home) of escitalopram. She wanted me to take half a tablet. A baby dose.
But the pills are so tiny that much of the medicine is consumed just by cutting it in half. So I have switched to a whole pill... keeping an eye on whether or not my hypomania starts to rear its fidgety head.
Some possibly-symptomatic things:
I'm gonna try and post more again later. I don't want to make this a giant post.
Equatorial actions: Not much. I am spending too much time napping, reading and watching soapy, ridiculous vampire dramas.This summer I plan to get back to exercising at the Y while elderboy is doing Swim Team
200 mg lamotrigine
5 mg escitalopram
Went to watch son’s robotics competition in loud stadium (with earplugs) and got all hyped up on cortisol.
Then had vast quantities of sugar and caffeine.
Then spent hours semi-comatose and binge-watching Person Of Interest in a dark room by myself.
Then decided not to take medicine that makes me super tired.
Because I wanted to stay up late and bead. And because I feel sad and don’t want to go to sleep.
I haven’t been awake at midnight for a long time.
I have missed these wuiet hours. But they are sad and a little lonely.
spoke, cried and sang in meeting today.
Did not know I was sad until I started to speak.
We are teaching about semi permeable membrane’s in biology right now. I started thinking about the value of having a thin but powerful layer that protects you from the outside world.
The semi permeable membrane thoughtfully lets things in like connections with other humans.
Helpfully keeps things out like other people stresses and things that really shouldn’t concern you.
And then for its best trick of all, it helps to hold the good things inside and only helps you eliminate the things you don’t need.
I don’t have that. I have a hard shell. If I let anything in, I have to let everything in. It makes it hard to connect. It makes it hard to express myself.
I can’t stay closed inside forever. I have to make openings with my hard show. I have to let things in and out. But when I do that, I do so unprotected. I am vulnerable to everything and have no filter.
It is scary. It is not safe. I don’t like it.
I wanted this to be a coherent message. It was a message, I knew that because my heart pounded in my hands shook while I waited to accept the unwanted microphone.
instead I began by crying, I proceeded crying, and I finished crying.
I had a song inside (didn’t even know what it was) that needed to come out but I was too sad. So I sat down again.
After someone else spoke, this song made its appearance. So even though it goes against protocol for one person to deliver two messages at meeting, my message came as part two.
And I sang loud.
Seems like the overall level of mood is lifting. Even in the Downs there are good and bad moments. The weather.
fewer crying jags. One day at work having trouble making eye contact, but only until I started teaching.
I love my job.
I don’t love taking lurasidone yet. It makes me feel oddly sluggish and super tired . Which I suppose should be fine but it feels weird. And unpleasant.
daylight savings time starts. Maybe this zombie drug will help with that transition.
nade a new cuff with stylized norepinephrine molecule. It is comfortable.
talked with a friend about how maddening it is to try and tease out what parts of me are “symptomatic” and she raised an interesting point: does it matter?
Tired comes on fast now, like a locomotive. So signing off.
200 mg lamotrigine
20 mg lurasidone
I spent yesterday at home with all three of my children also did not have school due to a late winter ice storm.
I spent the day sitting on my bed beading a new cuff that has designs to represent the norepinephrine molecule.
It’s a neurotransmitter. It’s one that I don’t have enough of. So I figure if I have a few extra on my wrist and they’re really giant maybe that will help.
all I want to do is bead.
what pattern does this follow? What mood state am I in when all I want to do is bead?
My coworker that I jokingly refer to as my “workplace accommodation” is going through some rough times now
which means I need to not rely on her since she needs to be able to lean on me.
luckily I have a deep bench at work. Back up supports. And even if I don’t need anything in particular from anyone, knowing that they are there is a comfort.
Stronger than comfort.
Picked up lurasidone to start officially today. No more bupropion after reviewing my history since it fizzled out before.
I feel wrung out. Physically drained. Tired to the point of tears.
i have spent all day wanting to bead and now that I am home and could do so... I haven’t the strength to pick up a needle nor sight to guide the thread.
when people ask how I’m doing I tell them how my coworker is doing. Which is not what they are asking.
But it is what I am worried about now. That I need to be stronger than I am... not even so I can be a support for her... but so I am not just another thing she needs to take care of.
I am sad.
cuz there is the pressure of being Perfekt and I’m so obviously not.
and then the trap of seeing your children as way more part of you than they actually are.
like their mistakes are my mistakes.
their troubles are my troubles.
i should have made different decisions but I didn’t and now I feel like
Monstrous Parenting Failure
welcomed home elderboy by unloading all my parental stress over my not being more proactive still with academic organization
which is not my natural strength either but I figured it out enough to get good grades and keep a job so I’m making it all about me.
now I am never going to leave my room because I don’t want to make more mistakes.
especially when your offspring exhibit symptoms too.
The others loosed the cables, and coming aboard themselves took places at the pins. A favorable wind clear-eyed Athene sent, a brisk west wind that sang along the wine-dark sea.
So if I am waking on a Saturday and searching Homer for references to Athene clear-eye, Athene with the flashing eyes, grey-eyed Athene...
It is because I feel clear of eye. And somewhat sharp if mind. Yesterday I even put together a brainstormed proposal for a class... which takes the kind of creative leaps and academic connections my sluggish Depressed brain cannot hope to make.
Now is when I have to fight the urge to look back and pull myself down over all the things I did not do when the Deoression was at its most acute.
I was able to take care of me. And (mostly) stuff at work. No extras. No art. No photographs. No carting my children around to their extras.
I am not under the delusion that I am out of the Depressed woods yet. And we all know this is the gift that bipolar will keep on giving. But this morning, and much of yesterday (except toward the end) I feel more my able self.
I am on day 3 on lurasidone that my psych NP has me keep on hand for treatment of acute Depressive episodes.
I think it has helped my brain course-correct. But I hope not to be on it long term. I wasn’t last time. Summer 2016 I was on for about 1 month and just kind of let it run out. And things stYed fine so psych NP sAid I could stay off unless needed.
One thing I don’t like is that it knocks me out. Very drowsy. Almost like I’m coming out of general anasthesia.
Also it needs to be taken with 350 calories. So I either eat it with dinner and become a zombie (nearly fell asleep during band 2 hours after taking it on thursday) or I eat a giant before bed snack.
Called psych NP re meds but she rang back on my never used home number. Will talk on Monday. She played continued use of lurasidone but I will run out on Monday.
Hoping it’s not like Flowers for Algernon. I like being able to think.
200 mg lamotrigine
29 mg lurasidone
Not like hunger-games type survival... or scaling mountains survival. No supplemental oxygen required.
It’s more like practical life skills for camping in the woods. Common sense type stuff. But for Depression.
Last night cried a bunch while trying to get to sleep and the tears dropped into my ears.
This is morning I thought I’d have an hour or so to steel myself to face the day with people... but then realized I had a meeting and needed to pull myself together in 4 minutes.
Which started up a miserable crying jag.
These are not the survival skills. These are the things that I have to navigate in my Depression camping trip.
(Gotta remember to tie the food up in a tree so the bears don’t get at it. Or you.)
I am not a danger to myself or others.
I am just successfully navigating the whitewaters of the Downs.
Because I am not alone. I got people. I have the best people. They have skills. I am no fool trying to summit Everest alone. Not alone. And nowhere near Everest.
This is is a bonus of not being manic while Depressed. I can plan some things. I can think of strategies. Or at the very least think of people who might have strategies.
Took the FB app off my phone, but I do check in sometimes and see posts on my posts from F/friends who support me from afar.
Telling people I am not doing well is infinitely better than trying to hide all symptoms and pretending to be fine.
It would be so much harder to get help or feel supported if I hid. Here are some things I would have missed
A supportive note from a friend written on a turquoise sticky-note.
Another friend mentioned how much she appreciated how open I am about all this crap.
(Because if no one talks about mental health crap, we don’t realize how normal it is to have mental health crap that you need to deal with at some time or another.)
I asked my director if she could mention to me that I am not a rubbish teacher. She knows why. She’s been near my shoes. (Also had her chew out my obnoxious 4th period students who have taxed my end-of-day reserves.)
I don’t want to be alone right now but only because I know that hiding under the covers by myself in a dark room is not a great way to kick Depression’s bony ass.
Otherwise the warm dark cave sounds like a great plan. Until I am eaten by bears.
I talked to the acquaintance who told me they could never date someone with bipolar... (see previous posts).
We have stuff in common. They seem like a nice enough person. And even when I am Depressed I can have many non-horrible moments of regular humanness and casual conversation.
I figure this is part of my slow education of a person who doesn’t know much about mental health crap—especially bipolar.
I figure if this person (through a series of harmless interactions bit by bit) can see that I am a fully functioning human in most ways for enough of the time... their ignorance might gradually fade.
Writing this makes me feel better. I’m Sad but my brain feels more connected.
Maybe this is a side-effect of the lifting of brain fog. That first the fog lifts. And then the mood slowly rises as well.
Slow is good. Manic is the opposite of slow and not the desired goal of medicating for the Depression.
200 mg lamotrigine
150 mg bupropion (remembering in morning now)
I have a band concert on Saturday. It is in Hinkley. Hinkley er veldig langt herfra. I’ll invite people to closer ones.
Quaker, teacher, parent,