Invisible Emma

Doing Great

2010-05-01T22:11:00.000-07:00

My current medication:

Lamicatal 200mg
Geodon 60 mg twice a day

I'm doing really well. Things worked out with my counselor. She's really helped me. I had my parents go to her to help with the bipolar news and she was terrific.

Things are not good with my husband. He stopped seeing her when she confronted him about not getting a job.

For a long time, he blamed everything on my bipolar. That has since stopped (yay!). But we had a bad year, and I'm having trouble recovering from that.

Still, I'm doing great. I got a job in AZ so our cross-country move will be a lot less stressful. I've promised my counselor I'll make friends.

My illness is under control.

Middle of the Night

2009-11-10T23:36:00.000-08:00

So I'm angry.

My Therapist

2009-08-05T08:30:00.000-07:00

So, I'm not sure if it was the program or the meds that helped, but I've slowly been doing better. I think a lot of it was the program. Structure is good for me, and I did end up getting something out of the classes. Part of the reason I think it was the program is because mornings, evenings, and weekends were still difficult. They have gotten better over the last few days though.

So, my therapist. I am torn.

A couple days into the program, the receptionist for my therapist called to cancel my husband's appointment. They cancelled mine at the same time. Our new insurance doesn't cover her (which is odd because we've seen her three times since the new insurance and she knew what kind of insurance I had). I called the office asking them to call me back to let me know how much it would be out-of-pocket. I never heard from them. They rarely answer the phone or return phone calls. While it (hopefully) has nothing to do with my therapist, neither my husband nor I were pleased with the way our drop from her patient list was handled.

At my last visit, my therapist told me I could call her cellphone if I needed her (from when she was in private practice). The night I found out we weren't covered, I was a wreck. I had my husband call and leave her a message letting her know and asking her to call back to possibly give us the name of someone else and to speak with me for a few minutes because I was upset. We never heard back. The partial hospitalization staff also had no luck with getting a chance to speak with her in the two weeks I was there. I'm concerned with the fact that she thought I was in crisis enough to get me into this program, but couldn't manage to make the phone calls she should have made once I was in.

After seeing how upset I was, one of the partial hospitalization staff gave me some numbers and information to pass on to my therapist in order for her to get single case coverage for me. I managed to get an appointment to see her today. I don't know if I should see her anymore (even if she managed to follow through with the call and get it accepted). While a few times she has done an excellent job of following through on her promises, she hasn't always. This isn't the first time she has let me down like this. I'm also reminded of some other things she has done that perhaps she shouldn't have.

But...

She has really helped my husband and I a lot. I'm afraid of starting all over with someone new considering my difficulty with talking to new people and opening up. I had finally prepared myself mentally to deal with some of the bigger things with her, and I'm not sure I could do that with someone else. I have a good relationship with her. I've really made progress with my ability to open up about the hard stuff, but I have no way of knowing if I'm capable of doing that with someone else. Therapists scare me, and I trust her.

I don't know what to do. I'm angry with her. I don't know if I should bother trying to keep seeing her. My husband wants me to let her know how upset I was. Will it ruin the trust we've developed? Would I be better off starting fresh and actually interviewing a possible therapist? With the long wait lists, will I even be able to find a new therapist?

I don't know. Let's see if my therapist can help.

For the First Time

2009-07-23T13:37:00.000-07:00

So the Geodon has helped significantly, and I seem to have more energy than I did on the risperdal, but that may be just because I haven't been on it long.

Saw the psychiatrist. Was honest about cutting. He was great.

Saw my therapist the next day. For the first time in my life I told someone what it was really like on those bad days. I actually drew her pictures and used those as my starting off point because I knew I'd never be able to say it. Her reaction, "Oh my God."

I'm now doing a 6-hour a day partial hospitalization program. Yesterday was my first day. I barely made it through. Last night, I followed my husband around talking non-stop. I was bored with the material because I know all this stuff. The classes seemed stupid because none of the information was new.

He's great. He encouraged me to try to get the most I can out of it. So today I spoke. It was only in response to other people, but I spoke which is more than I did yesterday.

I hope it helps.

Geodon

2009-07-14T07:56:00.000-07:00

Let's just say, I hope this works.

After being stable for about a year, I stopped getting my period. Risperdal causes this and it means that you're experiencing bone loss and possibly damaging your ovaries. No more risperdal.

Tried Abilify. Did nothing except make me throw up randomly. Missed several days of work and didn't make the connection to the abilify until after I stopped taking it.

Increased my dose of Lamictal- twice. Didn't like the idea but liked the other options less.

Started feeling worse than I did bfore treatment so I refilled an old script for the risperdal. Took away the anxiety but did nothing for what happened next.

My husband was in heaven. Suddenly I was playful and energetic and happy and fullfilling all his bedroom fantasies. I kept telling him that it wasn't a good thing. I felt it in the mornings- the flip-flopping stomach, the restlessness. I drank more beer to settle it down and just try to keep the up part of it. Still, I knew it wasn't long. Called my therapist on Monday, but couldn't get an appointment for two weeks.

Dug out old journals. Yup, I was fucked up then too- historically, this would be the part when I destroyed everything I cared about by making stupid choices.

Luckily, we were home all week. Don't tell my husband (hee-hee) but had I gone out without him and someone had shown interest, I probably would have run with it. I didn't go out without him and he thought the new girl (um, me) in the bedroom was hot. Meanwhile, I was furuiously writing in a notebook- all the stuff in my head I needed to get out. (I was also getting a ton of stuff done around the house.)

Then it started to turn. Little things would happen and I would have not-so-little reactions. The first thing was that I had to wait two weeks from when I called to get an appointment, my husband had to wait two days (we're seeing the same woman). I tagged along, hoping they'd call me in just for the last ten minutes- just long enough to assure me that I'd make it another week. They didn't. I had a breakdown in the car. My husband was able to talk me down. It was helpful.

But it just spiraled. I have no idea what the triggers were. I'd cry about anything. I hadn't been eating or sleeping all week. I'd roam around at night. When I got upset, I'd cut. Tried cigarette burns, switched back to my scissors. Called the psychiatrist Friday night. Didn't call the emergency number (I'm not an emergency), left a message.

Meanwhile, I'm counting days until I need to be hospitalized. I don't want to be hospitalized. If I still feel like this on such-and-such a day, I'll go. I won't go.

Sunday, my husband and I had a disagreement- a little one- a misunderstanding really. We got home. I threw things, slammed doors, wanted to break and punch but he was there (first time I've slammed a door since he's known me). I slammed myself into the bedroom and clenched the sheets in my hand trying with every ounce of strength not to fly into a rage. Trying to figure out how I can cut- what do we keep in the bedroom?

Remembered this little ladybug scrapbook roller thing I had stuck in the nightstand while cleaning. Pulled it out. Didn't work on my body-part-of-choice. Ran it along my upper arm furiously and as hard as I could trying to break the skin. It wasn't even close to sharp. I just kept going. (Left a large and awesome bruise even though it didn't cut) My husband came in. I shoved the ladybug in my pocket. I calmed down.

Not long after, my psychiatrist called. I'd practiced not minimizing my symptoms like I usually do- probably didn't hide it well with the way I was speaking. Only lied on the hurting myself questions: "Have you thought about hurting yourself?" "Sometimes." (which, btw, is the most honest I've ever been.) "Do you have a plan to hurt yourself?" "No." (Not unless imagining taking one klonopin after another until I finally pass out so I won't have to be wide-awake at 4 AM anymore a plan.)

Thank god he called. Called in Geodon. Wanted me to get it right away, but no pharmacies open at 9PM on a Sunday.

Filled it yesterday AM. Took it with breakfast. Did groceries. Thought I was going to pass out doing groceries. Came home, slept for 5 hours. Got up and ate dinner. Psychiatrist called to see how I was doing (I was so impressed.) Took meds with dinner. Hour later went back to bed. Slept 12 hours til I got up this morning.

I don't care. I'd rather be a zombie than feel how I did this week.

Wedding Stuff

2009-03-09T13:26:00.000-07:00

For lack of a private place to make my wedding complaints, I'll come here.

For starters, I had a dress fitting on Saturday. I didn't feel pretty in my dress this time so I was in tears for good parts of the weekend over that.

My future mother-in-law emails me about 400 times a day. She's let me know how stressed out she is and while some of the questions she has need to be asked, she's asked a lot of stupid ones too. Plus, I feel like I'm walking on eggshells making decisions about things. It could just be my anxiety kicking in, but I keep feeling like I'm offending her by not doing everything the way she wants. Plus, I'm the one handling all the communication with her so decisions I'm making with my fiance seem like they're coming just from me.

For example, I wanted my godparents (aunt and uncle) at the rehearsal dinner. My aunt is singing during the ceremony and my uncle is composing and recording all the music for the ceremony. They are very special to me and I also think that it would be rude to ask them to play such a big part in the ceremony and not invite them to the dinner. I just feel really strongly about having them there. I don't think his mother approved. Today they told my fiance they wanted his grandparents to come to the dinner and he said no. I feel like they're thinking that since my aunt and uncle were added, why not the grandparents. I had originally thought to include the grandparents, but the dinner was already getting so big that I thought it would be best to just keep it to the people taking part in the ceremony. She also asked me recently about whether or not they would be part of the processional. I said no to that too. I did order corsages for all the grandparents and planned a special dance for them.

My sister is a complete control freak who I am completely incapable of standing up to (my lack of assertiveness was one of the things bothering me this weekend (over my hair mostly, I didn't love the trial run.) This is the same person who warned me not to let my stepmom make all my decisions for me (my stepmom has been the only one leaving things up to me except to step in when I've asked her to do certain things). My sister has started emailing a bunch of people outside of my interactions with them. I wonder if that's part of why my future mother-in-law is stressed. My friend was part of those emails and said that my sister is coming off as a control freak and like the day is all about her. Despite my inability to stand up to her, I have tried to steer things the way I want them, but it doesn't seem to matter to my sister.

And the icing on the cake: my mother's side of the family is planning a special dinner two nights before the wedding to which I am not invited. Quite a few people will be coming in from out of town so they're having a special get-together.

I'm just going to let all these stress-makers fight it out.

Thank god for my stepmom and my good friend.

Damn

2009-02-14T08:39:00.000-08:00

I no longer have dark days during which I pray to die. It's truly wonderful.

My counseling was cut back first to monthly and now to about every six weeks or so. I'm not fully healed- certainly there are other things I could dredge up to deal with- but now I can cope on my own.

Of course, I cut this week. The anger just swelled and rather than tell my fiance I wanted to call off the wedding, I stood in the kitchen, grabbed a nearby pair pf scissors and put a nice long slash across my belly.

It was perfect at the time, but now I'm trying desperately to keep it hidden. I rarely take off my shirt in front of him, but I think my attempts to hide it are making him suspicious. He asked me straight out yesterday if I had hurt myself. Today, I feel naseous with the thought he'll find out.

It Has Begun

2009-01-17T05:10:00.000-08:00

Nice things to say:

"The invitations are beautiful."

"I'm so excited for the wedding."

"Oooh, I got the invitation today!"

"I can't believe his mother handmade these!"

Wrong thing to say:

"Is Dad paying for your wedding?"

I knew it would happen. When my fiance and I did our invitations, I knew it would cause drama. My parents (Dad and stepmom) are picking up most of the cost. Ettiquette dictates that the person paying is the one listed as inviting on the invite. I looked for some other wording so as not to offend my mother, but my fiance insisted it be my parents recognized. He knows who my parents are. And really, why should I be worried about offending someone like my mother (see any other post on here)?

Of course, offending my mother means offending my sister who is also my maid of honor and the person helping me out the most after my stepmom. I really don't need the guilt trip two months before the wedding.

Messed up families make weddings hard enough without there being a whole bunch of drama over the invitation.

But....I knew there would be drama. I knew I would offend a number of people in my family. And my sister is doing a great job of making me feel like I should have worded it differently.

Playing With Medication

2008-09-08T15:55:00.000-07:00

I stopped taking the risperdal a few weeks ago (without consulting my doctor) because I've gained 20 pounds since being on it.

I felt fine at first, but now all my anxiety is back. Once again, I can't stand to be touched, my hands are out of control, I'm irritable.

I'll be restarting tonight.

My doctor had actually planned to take me off this fall which is why I thought it'd be fine. I was wrong. I guess I will need medication forever.

In other news, I've made so much progress that my counselor doesn't think I need to come in as often.

Wedding Stuff

2008-08-24T08:43:00.000-07:00

My stepmom is coming down in two weeks to help me with wedding stuff.

She's like a mother to me.

My sister's remarks: Just be careful because everyone wants to get their hands in it and control it.

The only one who has tried to control it at all is my sister.

The good news is that I've come a long way in counseling so I don't get worked up by the family drama.

Wedding Planning

2008-08-16T17:29:00.000-07:00

My boyfriend and I got engaged last weekend.

We're thrilled.

Bonus, my dad shocked me by agreeing to pay for the wedding (up to a certain amount).

The downfall: I will offend most of my family by following etiquette and having my dad and stepmom be the ones inviting on the invitations. My dad said to do it however we want. My fiance insists that they should be on the invitation.

The downfall: I am so not into wedding planning. I have no one here to help me.

The upside: Both my sister and my stepmom want to help out a lot.

The downside: My sister has nothing to do with my stepmom. She hates my dad.

My counselor also happens to be planning a wedding and has been giving me lots of great vendors.

I liked a reception place online, but my fiance and I hated it when we saw it. My counselor recommended a different place based on cost and service and beauty. My dad and stepmom got married there. Of course my sister thinks there's something wrong with getting married where my dad got married (though it's actually kind of sweet especially because I was his best man) so of course she's on a mission to find somewhere else.

Believe me, I appreciate the help, but my messed up family might drive me insane.

I Have the Best Counselor

2008-08-08T15:52:00.000-07:00

I feel a trillion times better.

My counselor sees the truth.

She also thinks I'm the only one in my family that sees the truth.

Thank God

2008-08-08T10:56:00.001-07:00

My counselor is going to see me today.

The Hour

2008-08-08T07:08:00.000-07:00

I couldn't sleep last night.

I'm still a complete mess.

I need my counseling today.

OK, I just paused long enough to call my counselor to leave a message asking if I could come in sooner.

I'll probably be repetitive, but I really need to get some of this anger out without doing anything harmful.

I'm going to do my best to recreate my sister's version from counseling and all the stuuf I want to say to my counselor and the rest of the world today.

My sister's tale: My mother grew up in a chauvanistic home where she was made to feel unworthy. She then ended up in a marriage in which she was constantly put down by my father and beaten about monthly. My father openly cheated on her numerous times. My mother's powerlessness andfeelings of unworth made her need to control the only thing she could: her kids.

What I need to say: This is all true. I get why my mother turned into what she did. This is part of why I feel guilty about not wanting a relationship with my mother. I wanted to protect her growing up and I still feel like I need to protect her.

My sister's examples of things my parents did when we were growing up:
My father dragged my mother across the floor.

My father broke a cabinet by throwing one of my other sister's into it.

My parents left us alone for long periods of time (starting when my oldest sister was 9) without even leaving a number where they were.

My parents were never involved. They never said they were proud of us. They never displayed any kind of affection toward us. They never parented.

My mother would slap us for not eating our peas and yell at us for not eating them. (This was just one example my sister gave to show the kinds of things my mom would beat us for.)

My mother showed us food we loved and told us we couldn't have it.

My mother grounded my sister for two weeks for leaving her coat on the couch.

My sister made it clear that my mother was never a mother to us, and also made it clear that my father wasn't either.

The first time my mother hugged my sister was when she went away to college.

My mother woukd say "If you die tomorrow, I'll bury you."

If we expressed emotion, my mother woukd tell us she had it worse.

The things I need to add:
I remember saying I didn't feel good before eating and made to eat anyway after which I got sick. I had to clean it up.

I remember my other sister being forced to eat lasagne in the bathroom because she hated it.

I remember finally being allowed to stay home sick from school (we never were allowed), getting up from the couch and blacking out and hitting my head on the sick after which I was finally taken to the doctor by my mom.

I remember going to bed and all of us yelling "Daddy, we're ready." so my dad could come kiss us goodnight ( let's remember that my mom never did anything nurturing).

I remember my dad taking me to my room, turning on the light and saying "Monsters, go away" so I could go to sleep.

The things my sister remembers from when she was in college twenty years ago:
She needed money for food and both my parents responded, "we all have it rough."

I have nothing to add to that.

Let's move to my parents split and my moving out.

My sister's version:
My dad took everything in the divorce.

I ended up miserable and started cutting.

Living with my dad was the only option.

My mom said my dad came to the house and told me to take anything I wanted (another example of him taking everything).

She's not convinced that moving in with my dad was the best choice for me.

Her story of my dad ends here.

What I need to add:
My mother kept the house and everything in it. My dad had no furniture. My dad paid over $1000 in alimony to my mother for the next ten years until I was 23. When my dad asked for some pictures of us as kids, my mom gave him about 10 pictures that were either school pictures or the kinds of pictures you'd normally throw away.

My mother and the only sister left in the house started abusing me worse than I'd ever been abused.
I was expected to stop visiting my father and constantly told how awful he was and that I was just like him.

I was always told how miserable I made my mother, how ungrateful I was, how much of a burden I was, how selfish I was, that I was either too fat or too skinny.

I was slapped if I cried and told I had no right to cry.

I had a sleepover during my period and tripled up my underwear trying to avoid bleeding through my clothes. My mother made fun of me for weeks.

My mother told the parents of her daycare kids every private thing and every embarassing thing about me.

None of the controlling and abusive part of my mother went away- it got worse.
I did start cutting.

My mother found out by reading my diary.

She also found out I spent more on my dad for Christmas and that her boyfriend made me uncomfortable. I got in trouble for both of those things.

My mother took me to emergency counseling and told the counselor she didn't want my father to blame her when I killed myself.

She pulled me out before I could get help.

My counselor tried to get me to put myself in my mother's shoes and told me I was being too hard on my mother.

My mother was going on a lot of vacations with her boyfriend so we wrre left alone in the house. I was no longer allowed to stay home so I stayed with my dad.

My sister went to my dad and asked him to take me in.

We started court proceedings.

I read my mother's deposition in which she told lies about what happened when I visited my dad to keep me from living with him.

She said I was just moving in with him for the money and that she couldn't wait til I was gone.
I went to court and my dad was granted custody.

When I left the court, my mother's parents told me how awful I was.

I started packing and my mom went through everything I packed.

She didn't allow me to take a bed or bureau to my dad's and when he bought me a new bedroom set she again told me I only cared about the money.

I moved out and lost my whole family because of that betrayal.

I was a complete shell when I moved in with my dad.

I was also terrified because I hadn't forgotten his temper.

My stepmother nurtured me into some sense of normalcy.

My father was still an uninvolved parent, but he was never abusive to me or my stepmom.

During this time my sister left a bad relationship and my father got her an apartment to help her out.

My sister's version of my mother today:
She is still struggling with feelings of self-worth.

She puts a negative spin on everything.

She embellishes family drama and spreads it around.

She talks badly about all of us behind our backs.

She has admitted that she was a poor role model.

Her boyfriend treats her poorly (translation: my mother is still a victim).

My sister acts like a parent to my mother.

My mother has no problem having my dad at family events for us.

My mother has changed.

What I need to add and say:
At my college graduation party my mother yelled at me to sit down and eat.

My mother told everyone I was bulimic because I lost weight.

When I was pregnant, my mother told me what an awful kid I was because I wouldn't give my baby to the sister that abused me.

Last year when my boyfriend's parents took us to Florida, my mother told everyone I was awful for not visiting her.

My mother does have a problem with my dad being around. The day before we went to my counselor, my sister told me how insensistive it was for my other sister to invite my dad's family to the cookout she's having during my mother's visit because it should be all about my mother. I agree, but obviously it matters. That graduation party was thrown by my sister and excluded my father for my mother's comfort. My sister hoped my dad wouldn't come to my Christmas party so that my mother wouldn't be uncomfortable. My mother no longer wants to come to my Christmas parties.

I want to know how my mother has changed if she still talks badly about her kids and spreads negative stories. I want to know how it's changed if my mother still takes everything we do and turns it into a negative. I want to know how it's changed if we still have to treat my mother like a child so we don't upset her. My sister admitted all these things yet somehow my mother is still a poor thing who isn't held responsible for any of it because she had a shitty life.

My sister has helped my mother so many times (I used to until I realized my mom was never going to take the help to actually make changes.). My mother has never taken a single bit of my mother's advice. My sister takes care of her financially. She sends her things when she needs them. She walks my mother through all the things she needs to do to fix things and my mother never does anything about them. My sister admits that my mother will never say she's proud of us or that she hopes we had a good time or do any kind of social niceties- basically my mother will never mother us.

When does my mother have to take responsibilty for herself? When do we stop taking care of my mom and getting her to take care of herself? How much of my mother's nasty comments and negativity do we have to put up with so we can still have a relationship with her? When does my mother stop being a "poor thing" who is simply a product of her shitty life?

Sorry that guy raped you, but you know he had an abusive childhood.
Sorry that guy turned into a serial killer, his father beat him you know.
Sorry your mother tortured you, her husband was abusing her.

Why do I have to be okay with that with my mom but I'm not allowed to be okay with that for my dad?

I've never denied that my dad was a monster growing up. I've also never made excuses for him. There was a year in my adulthood that I cut my father out of my life because I was tired of being disappointed by him.

I get why my sister wants nothing to do with him. She has only seen him as an abuser.

I've never pretended that my father has become a perfect parent. He's far less than perfect.

But my father is a parent.

He does tell me he's proud of me.
He does celebrate my accomplishments.
He does call me to see if I'm okay.
He does show concern for me and interest in my life.
He has created the only safe place in my entire family.
He never talks bad about my mother or us. He excuses their behavior.
He actually feels really sorry for my mom just like the rest of the world.
He gets choked up about little things.

He is no longer abusive.

When my memere died, my mom didn't call to see how I was doing.

As soon as my pepere went into the hospital, my parents (dad and stemom) called to see how I was doing and to send their prayers.

My counselor has been trying to help me get ready for my mother's upcoming visit including ways I can avoid seeing her. One of my sisters is having a cookout so mostly my counselor has been preparing me for that.

I decided last night that I'm not going.

I'm not getting sucked in to the black hole that is my mother and all her problems and cries for pity.

I will work on no longer feeling guilty about not wanting a relationship with her.

I will work on not worrying about being cut off from the family for rejecting my mother.

My sister told the counselor my mother would be okay with me confronting her. That's complete bullshit. Nothing about me will ever be okay with my mother. I won't take care of her. I've chosen to have a relationship with my dad. I've been the one to take care of my mother every time she's visited and it has never been enough. I don't want to do it anymore.

If my counselor suggests I try to see things from my mother's side, I might explode.

My mother is not a mother.

My Family: Why I Will Always Be the Odd One Out

2008-08-07T19:11:00.000-07:00

Today was an extremely difficult day.

Out of my three sisters, I am only close with one. I feel comfortable talking to her about anything and we often talk about our terrible childhood.

The only fight my sister and I have ever had is about my parents.

She hates my dad and is close to my mom. I hate my mom and am close to my dad.

My sister lives across the country but was here all week because my grandfather has been in critical care and my grandmother really needed her.

I asked my sister to come to counseling today. I wanted my counselor to hear my sister's version of my family members.

I knew how it would go, but it still sucked to hear it. I'm also a little afraid that my counselor is going to question my version of my parents.

The good news is that the whole thing made me feel a lot better about distancing myself from my mother. I do feel guilty. She is my mother. She didn't have a supportive childhood. My father severely abused her. She makes little generous gestures like sending us little care packages of thrift store stuff that she thinks we'd like.

But my mother never stopped being abusive and my father did.

My mother talks bad about everyone and my father never has.

My mother embellishes family gossip in the most negative way possile while my father does the opposite. My father actually doesn't gossip at all.

My mother still has never shown any kind of feeling about anything not involving her, but my father has become a big softie.

My mother always tells me what a great parent she always was while my father has apologized to me for raising us in a "warzone".

My sister is eight years older than I am. My parents split up for good during her freshman year of college. I was in fifth grade. My sister only knows my parents in the context of their marriage. Because of that, it does make sense that she can only see my mother as a victim. But I was the one stuck in the house after my father left. My mother was so abusive to me. If I hadn't ended up moving in with my father, I would definitely have killed myself. I was constantly reminded of how awful it was for my mother to have me in the house and what a terrible person I was.

It was during this time that I started cutting. When my mom sent me to counseling she told the counselor that she was taking me so that my father couldn't blame her when I killed myself. She stopped my counseling by canceling my next appointment and not making a new one. If I had gone to that last appointment, my counselor would have hospitalized me.

Today, my sister told the counselor that when I moved out my mother told her that my dad came and told me to take anything I wanted. The truth is that my mother went through every single box I packed to make sure I only took what she wanted me to. She didn't allow me to take any of my bedroom furniture and then when my dad bought me a new bedroom set, she told me I was just moving in with him for the money.

My sister made it sound like my dad took everything when he left. My mom kept the house, all the furniture, all the memory stuff (like pictures of us kids), and my dad had to pay her over a thousand dollars a month in alimony until I was 23. I remember visiting my dad in his first apartment and sleeping on the floor in the living room because he had no furniture.

Before I went to court to live with my dad, I read the report of the interviews with my parents. My mother made up all these lies about my dad giving me alcohol and stuff to try to keep the court from allowing me to live with him. After the court decision, my grandparents told me how awful I was for moving out.

My mother is such a victim. She's never gotten help and everyone excuses her behavior because she was abused. At what point are we going to expect her to act like a decent person even though she was abused?

My sister admitted that she acts like a parent to my mother. That's exactly what it has to be like in order to have a relationship with my mother. I'm not interested in having a parent that I have to parent.

At some point my mother needs to take responsibility for herself.

She's never going to heal if everyone keeps allowing her to play the victim.

My sister told my counselor that my mother has changed and would be receptive if I confronted her about our childhood. I hope my counselor doesn't think it's true. She did ask me about it right there, suggesrting that I just can't see that my mother is different now.

My mother isn't different.

She still spreads negatively inflated gossip about her kids. She still puts us down when she can. The difference is that she has to be more manipulative in order to keep us around to abuse.

The problem is that my sister has been completely taken in.

My Summer

2008-07-29T06:21:00.000-07:00

I've been having mood swings all summer. I've never done well on vacations, but I really thought this one would be different.

A couple weeks ago, I had the worst day I've had since being medicated.

I've been exercising all summer. I think I'm stronger, but it hasn't helped my mood or my weight.

My mother will be visiting in a couple of weeks. My counselor actually suggested I lie to her so that I wouldn't have to see her. That's how unhealthy my mother is for me.

In good news, my boyfriend and I went ring shopping this past weekend. My hands shook uncontrollably the whole time. I'm having a hard time getting the upcoming engagement off my mind. I just want it to happen already!

The Dentist

2008-07-01T06:03:00.000-07:00

My dental hygienist always asks about my medications when I go.

I told her.

She asked what they were for.

I paused.

Bipolar.

I was nervous.

I needn't have been.

She opened up about her son and father and their different issues.

It's the most conversation we've had in the seventeen years she's cleaned my teeth.

Whew!

Oh, Dear!

2008-05-23T02:54:00.000-07:00

Two weeks without a post.

I suppose it's because I'm (mostly) doing well.

I'm feeling a little stressed. It's mostly work-related. Everything at home is good.

I haven't really noticed a difference with the increased Lamictal, but I'm not concerned because it has definitely made me feel much better. I've been a little anxious and a little irritable. Some of the shaking in my hands is back. Some days I feel nauseous (I used to get nauseous all the time when I was stressed or feeling anxious). I'm not exercising or eating properly. Part of the reason is that my schedule has still been super busy. Still, I need to fix it, especially the eating part. On Wednesday, I thought I was going to pass out.

Despite all this, I am doing much better.

I'm just trying to hang in there for the rest of the school year. I'm taking the summer off for the first time. My counselor is grateful for that and very worried about some job changes that will be happening for me in the fall. She thinks it might put me back at the worst of my symptoms. For everything else, she's quite happy with my progress.

We'll see I suppose.

My Week

2008-05-10T07:20:00.000-07:00

We had another death in the family his week. This time it was my stepmother's mother.

Monday, I had a stressful meeting with a parent, but otherwise the day was fine.

Tuesday, I had a little breakdown in front of my team, then went to the wake.

Wednesday I was okay. I had a good meeting after school, but couldn't get excited about it this time. I also had trouble sleeping that night because I couldn't get the thoughts of my meeting out of the way.

I had trouble getting up all week again. I also had trouble eating. I never did pick the exercising back up because I wasn't able to get out of bed early enough. I was also really stressed about my counselor not returning my calls. I had to reschedule my appointment, but it took her almost a whole week to call me back. I was starting to freak out a bit about that because I really think she's been a big help, but her delay in calling me back is really not okay for someone in her role. She did end up calling and I'll get over it because she's a great counselor.

Thursday was okay. I was tired. I had an afternoon commitment that went very well. I had dinner with my parents which was awesome. They surprised me with flowers and gifts to celebrate the completion of my Master's program.

Friday, I had more energy at work than I've had in a long time. I used to be like that all the time, but this year's students aren't used to it. They all commented. I got through what should have been a long and hard day with a bit of hyperness, random singing, and storytelling from both students and me that had nothing to do with the content we were covering. I was overexcited all day. I'm thinking that my Master's program was sucking all my extra energy and am hoping I can get excited about my job again. My kids still like my class but they don't get as excited as the kids I've had in less stressful years.

Today I'm chatty. My boyfriend actually commented, "There's the bipolar kicking in."- the first time he's acknowledged my behavior as a symptom. Until PA mentioned that jumping from topic to topic was a symptom, I had no idea. If I'd have known, I would have accepted my diagnosis much sooner. I always jump randomly to unrelated topics. I was doing it a lot yesterday and today.

I increased my Lamictal this week. For the past few years, my boundless energy was the thing I'd missed the most. I've always been extremely energetic and had trouble staying still (except for when I'd have low, suicidal days). Enough that everyone I've ever known commented on it. I'd be really happy if I got that joy of life back again.

Better

2008-05-04T19:05:00.000-07:00

I feel back to normal now.

I guess I just needed an extra day to unwind.

What Is It?

2008-05-04T03:49:00.000-07:00

Something is messing me up, and I don't know what it is.

I was prepared to write a post about the side effects I've been experiencing. They are not bothersome. I've been feeling good. I just thought the post would be useful.

I've had a very busy and stressful week. I was pleased with how well I was coping. In the past, I'd have needed to miss work at least one day because it would have been too much.

Friday came, and I finally felt it. I got to work and barely held it together for the first hour or so.

I wasn't worried. It was only natural that the stress would overwhelm me at some point. Even medicated, one can only handle so much.

The remainder of the day was fine. I was a bit anxious, but no longer teary. I saw the psychiatrist, told him I was having a difficult day, but that overall I'd been fine and that I felt it was just due to my crazy week.

I had a very positive meeting after school, then rushed home to eat before another commitment.

I was a bit manic by then- excitement about my meeting, I figured.

I didn't sleep as long as I'd expected Friday night- no more 12 hour nights. Saturday was going quite well. Other than being anxious about my boyfriend's driving, we had a great day- even talking about how nicely things were falling into place.

We went out last night and it was fun. I was able to be a bit more social.

We came home. Something little happened. The rage hit. I cried off and on. It felt like I really needed to sob, but could only cry in little bits.

I had awful dreams of my feet getting cut up by rusty screws. I tossed and turned all night. It felt like it was time to get up all night though I think it was just me waking up every hour or so.

At 2AM my boyfriend woke me up by being too noisy. I yelled at him, stomped out of our room, slammed the door, and collapsed on the couch.

I couldn't sleep. I felt like getting up. I was teary and angry. Practicality kept me down and eventually put me back to sleep, but I was exhausted at this morning's alarm and still feeling unreasonably angry.

This weekend was supposed to help me relax after my rough week.

I suppose it could just be the stress, even though the worst is over. I feel like I'm cycling again.

I suppose I'll try to exercise later. I've stopped for the past two weeks because I really did just have too many other things to cope with and the exercise was annoying me because I was gaining weight and no longer fit in my clothes. Still, exercise helps me with anger, and I feel too much of it today.

I'm off to church with my aunt and hope not to carry my grumpiness there with me especially considering how excited I was on Friday and how much I was looking forward to telling her about all the awesome things that happened this week.

Five of Five Meme

2008-04-25T04:29:00.000-07:00

I've been tagged. Here goes:

Five Things Found In My Bag

I have a very predictable and dull purse that (other than money stuff) holds:

1. A pouch of ibuprofen and aceteminophen just in case I'm struck somewhere with pain. Luckily, I haven't needed them at all lately.

2. My calendar/ planner. I just starting using one last year, but now I need to use it for all my appointments. I also use it to hold my prescriptions so I don't misplace them.

3. Lotion. My hands are so dry. If I wash them, I have to follow with lotion.

4. Sugar-free mints. I'm a smoker. I have to carry mints.

5. Postcard stamps. Just in case I need to send a postcard. Except they're pretty old so I'm sure the rates have gone up.

Five Things Found In My Room:

I'm guessing this means bedroom, but our bedroom has only one cool thing in it (my boyfriend's massive computer collection) so I'm going to use the spare room which is designated as mine.

1. An elliptical trainer. It's made my room so much less inviting, but I do need to exercise.

2. My Flubber doll (among others). I love any cute, squishy thing. My Flubber doll squeals when you squeeze him. It's awesome.

3. A milk crate. I use it as a stepstool. Without it, I couldn't reach most of my shelves.

4. Most of my non-fiction plus my favorite fiction. I have the categories organized by shelf, plus a separate bookcase for all my going to school and teaching school stuff. Whenever I get interested in somethihg, I buy every book I can on the topic. I also love pop sociology stuff so I have quite a few books like that.

5. My movie-making equipment. I'm transferring my video to digital and working on creating movies for my family. I learned how to create and edit movies last summer and found it's quite fun.

Five Things You Have Always Wanted To Do:

1. Star in a Broadway show. Of course, I'm too old to pursue that dream.

2. Go sky-diving.

3. Write a book. My fifth-grade teacher got me really into writing. I doubt I'll ever really try. If I did, it'd be non-fiction or fiction with a cause.

4. Meet Christopher Pike. He's a young adult author. I wouldn't know what to say to him, but I'd enjoy meeting him.

5. Have a day filled with the sweetest most genuine laughter there is.

Five Things I Am Into Right Now:

1. Finishing my Master's. Um, the rest will be a bit tough due to this all-consuming one.

2. Seeing my family more. I'm pretty much failing at this one, but when my grandmother died, I just felt really awful about how rarely I see my family. Of course there's a reason for that, but still.

3. Getting rid of things. Mailing the things I've been meaning to mail, getting rid of clothes, throwing away things I never should have kept. I'm a bit of a hoarder. My mom is a serious hoarder.

4. Making movies. Due to school, I'm on hiatus, but I'm always thinking about it.

5. Accepting and dealing with my diagnosis. Not fun at all and made even less so by the amount of money I'm now spending getting well.

Five People To Tag:

I'm new to this corner of blogland. I hereby tag the first five blogs in Gabriel's 000 blogroll.

Becoming Three

Blog Harbor

Candy for Monkeys (not working!)

Cracked Head Blog

Don't Drink and Don't Die

Felings, Feelings

2008-04-25T04:21:00.000-07:00

Thanks to PA for the support. I ended up feeling fine and I think it was just a normal feeling sad- not the crippling lows I was getting.

My bigger concern these days is how tired I am!

I've been on vacation this week. I should feel rested. I don't. I'm sleeping 10+ hours a night and when I wake up in the morning it's as if I've been woken up at 2AM.

I suppose being on three meds that cause drowsiness will do that to you, but I'm wondering how I'm going to keep getting through work.

My boyfriend thinks it's just the stress of finishing up my Master's. Right now our house is trashed because I have books and folders and papers all over the place.

On the bright side, my mood is just fine. A little more anxiety than I had been feeling, but overall quite positive. Finally!

I'm Tired of This

2008-04-20T05:36:00.000-07:00

Everytime I post about how well I'm doing, I crash.

I'm not crashing hard. I suppose just a normal bit of sadness. Still, the triggers aren't worthy of my uncontrollable crying.

I'm hoping it's just the stress of this week, and that once my Master's is over, I'll level out again.

Feeling Good

2008-04-19T09:24:00.000-07:00

The Lamictal is really helping.

The world has color again.

I haven't been posting mainly because I'm finishing my Master's degree in two weeks and I've been completely overwhelmed with work.

Other than a few days of anxiety about finishing, it's been just fine.

I went away to a conference and was able to strike up conversation with lots of people. Normally, I can't speak to anyone.

I also spent this past Thursday interviewing people all by myself for about six hours. I did beautifully. It feels so good to be able to act human.

At home, things are just so-so. I'm still able to be affectionate, but my boyfriend has been less so. He's in the process of looking for a new job and I'm guessing the stress is what's causing his distance. When we do spend time together it's still good, but more often he holes himself up in the bedroom playing computer games. I don't like it, but I am handling it.

He's encouraging me to take the summer off from teaching. We could use the money, but I could use the break and he feels that strongly. He thinks that as a gift to myself for graduating and as a way to keep healing that the break would be good for me. I agree, but fear I will succumb to the pressure of the summer school supervisor. I know they need me to teach, but I'm feeling burnt out and hope a summer off will rejuvenate me for next year.

I want to be well, and lately I do feel quite well (though still exceptionally tired). It's been a welcome change.

The Psychiatrist

2008-04-07T15:33:00.001-07:00

On my most recent vist, my psychiatrist was prepared to listen, but this time I couldn't speak.

I think that my anxiety is getting in the way.

I hate going to doctors. It has rarely been a positive experience for me. I never feel heard. I always feel like an afterthought. When it comes to concerns, it either turns out to be nothing or something so serious that I'm asked why I waited so long.

I hate bringing up concerns so every time they are dismissed or it turns out it's nothing, it just adds to my anxiety about the next time I have an issue. When I first decided to mention my increasing anxiety at my yearly exam, I spent the entire month prior preparing myself. I'd visualize it. I'd practice what I would say. It was still tortuous to do it, but at least I was able to.

I also feel like mental health issues are much much harder to share than a physical issue.

This makes going to a psychiatrist a very difficult experience for me. It's my first time seeing a psychiatrist so I feel like I'm going in blind. I'm not sure what I should be sharing.

I hate being on medication and I especially hate trying several out so I worry about expressing concerns in fear that the medication will change or I'll have to try something else.

I don't like admitting that I'm struggling and I'm not even sure how to verbalizie how I'm struggling. We weren't allowed to have feelings growing up; I've spent my entire life assuming my issues were a result of my upbringing. Thinking of my personality traits as symptoms is a very difficult change for me.

I read a lot and have read a lot about bipolar. I don't know how to share that with my psychiatrist without seeming like I don't view him as the expert. I once had a counselor who discovered my love of reading early and really latched onto it. She gave me a ton to read and I gobbled up every word and it helped me and it helped our sessions. I had thought about pulling a piece of one of the books I've read to share with the psychiatrist, but after my grandmother's death, I was just glad to be able to fullfill my responsibilities.

Anyway, this visit was better, but I still don't think he's as great as I was led to believe. Supposedly his other patients feel like they can tell him anything. Maybe it's just my own difficulty with sharing getting in the way, but I don't feel like that at all.

I did like his closing comment to me: "Stay well." It made me feel like he really does want his patients to feel well. Plus he asked me if there was anything else I still needed help with. Of course, I couldn't answer. I tried to speak, but was only able to offer a half-gesture as I attempted and to look at him wide-eyed like I was put on the spot to take a test I hadn't prepared for.

There is hope, but I would love it to get easier.

Feeling Better

2008-04-07T13:47:00.000-07:00

Other than still being tired, I'm feeling less gray these days. That's a very good thing. I've been a bit more anxious though, especially yesterday. Still, if the world is brighter and the anxiety is only occassional, I can manage.

I joined my aunt for church on Sunday- mainly to support her during a difficult week. We had a nice breakfast afterwards. I've been keeping up with my exercise (and feeling it!). I got a few little projects done in the house.

I've been slacking a bit on the job front though. I really need to, but I do feel guilty. I've always been a really great worker, but this year I've had other priorities. So I've been skipping out on a semi-commitment most times it comes up, including today. I should be there now, but instead I'm blogging.

Health first though, right?

I have some work to take care of tonight. I'll be getting my Masters degree in about a month so I need to work on finishing up stuff for that. I'd rather curl up in front of the TV, but I suppose I can't do that. It should motivate me to get it done quick, but I'm quite tired so I'm taking a break first.

Perhaps I need to cut out my afternoon coffee some other time, rather than starting today.

Update on an Old Meltdown

2008-04-02T04:42:00.001-07:00

I had breakfast with an old, old friend this weekend. Because of our history, I shared the experience that caused this breakdown.

It came up because he had gone out with some folks who knew me way back when and wondered why I never made that my living.

He had the same experience when he tried the same thing.

I felt so much better about it all.

How Should I Know

2008-04-02T04:23:00.000-07:00

My grandmother died on Saturday.

I've been all over the place.

Her wake was extremely difficult for me. I'm having trouble processing anything going on.

The times at her place were the best times of my childhood (and adulthood). When the whole family gathered there, you knew it would be a night filled with laughter and jokes and stories and singing. I'm having a hard time accepting that those times are over even though it has been awhile since everyone did gather at her place.

My grandmother comes from the good side of the family.

Because of all that, I stopped bothering tracking my moods and I couldn't tell you how my meds are doing. I kep forgetting to take the one I take at night. Today I pulled out a pill case and filled it for the day so that at least if I do forget, I'll know that I did. This morning I wasn't sure.

Today is the funeral. The burial will be the first I've ever attended.

I do have counseling later tonight so I'm grateful for that.

Crackers and Chocolate

2008-03-28T14:29:00.000-07:00

The exercise hasn't helped. In fact, I've had what can best be described as very typical mild depression:

loss of enjoyment in everyday activities
fatigue
hopelessness
feelings of failure
desire to be alone
etc.

Usually my depressions are much more agitated.

Yesterday, I saw my counselor. She thinks I'm still cycling, but doing so more mildly. She figured that my psychiatrist would add something for the depression.

I saw him today and he did. But.....I'm just not loving him. My counselor talked him up a lot so my expectations were high. He sometimes cuts me off when speaking and other than my first visit with him, he never explains anything to me. It seems like he's always in a rush to finish with me. It's not a good match for me because I have major doctor anxiety and often have trouble speaking at all especially if I need to bring up a concern (which I did today).

He reconsidered my diagnosis, but didn't really end up telling me what he thought. He did give me a new prescription and it's for bipolar so I guess he's still going that route. He neglected to tell me what to do with my current meds even after I asked. I'm going to keep taking them because I have noticed a huge benefit. I'm just still getting a bit of mild depression.

Depression is why I had crackers and chocolate for dinner. I used to do that all the time when I lived alone. It's probably why I was so tiny back then. Computer, crackers, juice- that's all I ever needed.

I've become convinced of the bipolar diagnosis despite some very major resistance at first. I found a little chart in a book I read so I think I might bring that to him next time to add to my chart because today he just looked at my original answers to all of his does-she-have-bipolar questions and at the time I really didn't want it to be true.

Lifestyle Changes

2008-03-23T16:32:00.000-07:00

10 days without a drink.

4 days of exercise (I missed today because I was away).

Took my main med at dinnertime instead of bedtime last night (and tonight).

This morning I woke up without feeling groggy (I was in a strange home though), and I've been dealing with life fairly well.

I'm either on the up part of a cycle or my lifestyle changes are helping.

I hope it's the latter.

I'll probably know at work tomorrow.

An Up Day

2008-03-21T08:26:00.000-07:00

By 11 this morning, I had exercised, eaten breakfast, done the dishes, rearranged my room, cleaned up all the stuff I moved around after making room for the elliptical trainer, brought a small bookcase down to the basement and brought a big one up, and replaced everything on that bookcase.

So I guess I'm feeling better.

I took two days off of work this week. One because I had a million places to go; the other just because I felt like I was teetering and going back would push me over.

I was cranky both of the days I did work, exhausted every freakin' morning that I woke up (another long sleep last night), and weepy last night.

But I feel good today.

My therapist thinks I'm cycling but that it's weaker and hopes I'm in the beginnings of a switch next time I see the psychiatrist. I'm not sure what to want.

In my downs, I'm just not coping well. She also thinks that my boyfriend is adding significantly to my stress and hindering my ability to heal. I think he'll be joining me for my next appointment anyway so maybe we can talk then about how he can be more supportive. I think he's very supportive, but he does have his days and his issues.

Meanwhile, I've exercised every day since I bought the elliptical trainer. Of course, I'm doubting my purchase and mourning the fact that I don't love it like I loved my treadmill. It's hard! I'm purposely setting really small goals so that I don't set myself up for feelings of failure. I'm already struggling with the fact that I've gained too much weight in this past month. I was just starting to feel attractive again when my body decided to put the pounds back on and then some. I hope the exercise helps.

Cautiously Optimistic

2008-03-18T08:14:00.000-07:00

I feel mostly better. A little groggy, but my mood feels normal.

Sunday I got lots of stuff done. Yesterday I got lots of stuff done. Today I'm trying to wake myself up enough to get lots of stuff done.

I took today and yesterday off of work. Yesterday, I actually had to get bloodwork done for the psychiatrist, but today I have no excuse. I couldn't get the machine at work to tell them I'd be coming back so I took it as a sign that I should take another day rather than risk the stress dragging me down again. Either way, I'm doing plenty of work from home, but it's a bit more peaceful here and I can take blog breaks.

My anxiety is a touch high and my sex drive appears to have disappeared, but other than that I feel decent.

Falling Apart

2008-03-15T17:52:00.000-07:00

So much for no more lows.

If I didn't have so much stuff to get done this week, I would check myself into a hospital. I assume that because the stuff I have to do is weighing heavier right now that I don't really need a hospital, but my thoughts aren't pretty tonight. Hopefully, I will get the nerve to call the doctor on Monday.

I had a bit of an angry breakdown earlier today. I followed that with a cleaning frenzy. Then, once I stopped cleaning, I crashed. Hard.

I really hope this doesn't last. I feel so horrible today and I'm so tired of feeling horrible.

On the up side, no cutting. I wanted to cut. I know the cutting would take away the suicidal feelings, but I really want to just feel all this stuff and be healthier in the end.

I already made the boyfriend (who was not helpful at all today) promise we would get my elliptical trainer this Tuesday. It's my birthday on Tuesday and regular exercise will hopefully be exactly what I need.

This Song Always Stops Me

2008-03-14T03:18:00.000-07:00

Some song pleasure. It just came up on my iTunes and I had to stop what I was doing because I always do for this song.

I love it. Especially all the live versions.

Kindling

2008-03-13T17:59:00.000-07:00

I'm freaking out today.

The myspace friend? My very best friend in middle school. Today is his birthday.

I sent him a long heartfelt birthday note.

He read it.

He did not reply.

I'm definitely on the shit list for something.

I can't deal with that.

I don't care that we only caught up about once a year. I need that once a year.

I'm freaking out a bit.

Counseling today wasn't long enough.

I had prepped myself to finally talk about the stuff in my head, but it took the whole hour to catch her up on the last three weeks of swinging.

My mood swings haven't stopped. They've just decreased in severity. Except for right now.

I came home and made a drink. I had two.

I've basically stopped drinking since my new meds.

Tonight I want to drink myself into a blissful and ignorant stupor. I just don't want to feel. Right now there are too many things going on in my life. I feel unstable. I feel like breaking. I feel like running around screaming (but I won't because I don't want anyone to think I'm crazy.)

So why the post title?

I used to swing. Pre-baby, it was predictable and predominately up. Post-baby, I was more anxious but more stable emotionally. The length of time between the swings was big. On anti-depressants, the moods swung day-by day. I'm more stable now, but I'm still swinging a bit too rapidly for my liking.

Today the counselor noted my irritability and probably my anxiety, and probably my slightly incoherent speech- by the end I was speaking so quickly.

Racing thoughts. I get it now. I've got them now.

I hope I won't have any regrets in the morning.

Acceptance

2008-03-12T16:24:00.000-07:00

I'm re-reading this book and the entire archives of this blog.

I definitely relate.

I also reread the beginning of one of the other books I bought post-diagnosis.

I feel good today, but the last week and a half were not so good.

And really, today wasn't great either. My irritability was in full-force. A minor trigger at work left me wanting to take the rest of the day off because I was so angry. My leg is shaking a lot too.

My medication has definitely taken away my anxiety. Other than a day here and there, I'm much less frozen. It hasn't taken away the lows though they are maybe one step less low- as in just thinking self-harm instead of actual self-harm. I thought the irritability was better, but it didn't stick. Most days are better than today, but the yippee feeling no longer comes.

I'm more organized, but that is slipping, too. I don't feel like doing much. I go in spurts- do lots and lots and am hyper-focused, then become completely disinterested. I'm more productive at work than at home, but more irritable at work than at home. Sigh.

My head is definitely clearer. When my therapist first talked bipolar, I read and read and read. I pulled out all my old diaries looking for clues in anticipation of my first psychiatric consult. Some things concerned me, but I just wasn't seeing it. Now that my head is clearer, it's more recognizable.

The reading has helped: symptoms like racing thoughts, grandiosity, impulsivity didn't feel like me. Reading descriptions of behaviors that go with the symptom lists does. I keep nodding my head in agreement- yes, that is me.

I think what helped was finally getting that it's an abnormal reaction to events. My reactions are too big for the events that trigger them if there are even triggers at all (yes, I'm seeing now that there have not always been triggers.) And once I get going, I can't get back. So on Sunday, once that low mood started, it was a quick and painful descent and I was powerless to stop it. Normal coping strategies don't work. The mood takes over.

I've never been hospitalized. I would have been at the age of 13 had my mom not suddenly yanked me from counseling. I can think of a handful of occassions in my adulthood when hospitalization would have been appropriate. I really do think it will happen. I still feel like I'm hanging on the edge- just barely keeping it together.

When my emotions get out of control, I am a danger. Anger is the primary feeling. Rage, really. That's what makes me have to cut or punch walls. I fight it. Sometimes I end up in tears (frustration), sometimes I shut off (numb), sometimes I shake my leg or clench my fists or dig my nails in somewhere to release some of it.

A change in sleep or routine completely throws me off. I hate surprises. That's part of why the impulsivity part was so hard for me to get. I can adapt, but I hate changes and things unexpected. The older I get, the worse it gets. I'm pretty convinced it's why I was on edge all week. My routine was altered. I didn't know what I could expect. I have to be able to prepare.

That's also he controlling part of me. My boyfriend sees it in everyting I do. If I decide last minute that I want to go to the store I'm okay, but if I suddenly have to or he wants to go, my anxiety gets activated. I'm constantly checking in with him about our plan- for dinner, for the night, for the weekend, for going out times. I need to know or I can't cope.

My therapist has suggested some OCD tendencies as well as some definite social anxiety.

In the book, or on the author's website, he talks about the overlap between GAD and bipolar. I was diagnosed with GAD several years ago by my primary care. It pissed me off and I didn't take it seriously. I've always been a little anxious, but disordered? Not me. Um yeah, I'm starting to accept that I am ill. I fit GAD pretty much exactly. It's the extra bit that leads to a dx of bipolar that has me analyzing. But yeah, I'm accepting that, too. I'm paying attention and staying aware and feeling the shifts and checking for changes and triggers and general feelings.

I can't wait for therapy tomorrow. I'm way overdue.

It Gets Better

2008-03-09T18:58:00.000-07:00

Since my last post, my iTunes has dutifully shuffled me the exactly perfect songs to make me feel stronger and better.

I love music.

Things My Mother Has Done

2008-03-09T18:05:00.000-07:00

I said a couple weeks ago that my mom deserved a whole post. I'm not ready for a narrative, but I am ready for a list.

Things my mother has done:

1. Forced my sister to eat her lasagne in the bathroom because my sister hated lasagne.

2. Forced all of us to sit at the table all night until we finished our dinner.

3. Serrved us any remaining dinner for breakfast if we had sat at the table up until our strict bedtime.

4. Made me stand in the corner naked for wetting my pants.

5. Making my sister stand naked on the porch for the same reason.

6. Made fun of me for wearing multiple pairs of undies during my period so I wouldn't leak through my jammies at a slumber party.

7. Made me wear a maize-colored turtleneck even though I was crying because I hated it so much.

8. Didn't let me pick out my own clothes....ever. I think I got to pick out my outfits around age 10, but I was never allowed to pick out my clothes.

9. Forced me to eat food I had vomited up.

10. After a counseling session for me, slapped me and told me I had no right to cry.

11. Told a different counselor that she was putting me in counseling so my father wouldn't blame her when I killed myself.

12. Told the court that my father allowed me to drink alcohol so that they wouldn't let me live with him.

13. When he got custody anyway, she told me I could never come back.

14. She went through every box I packed and wouldn't allow me to take any of my bedroom furniture, but then accused me of being money hungry when my dad had to buy me a new bedroom set.

15. She read my diary when I was thirteen.

16. Then she yelled at me because my father's Christmas present cost more than hers.

17. She told me I was cutting just to cause problems for her.

18. She didn't even hear me when I told her I had cut again (my counselor told me I had to tell her, but I knew my mom wouldn't listen).

19. Made me wear diapers to bed long after I needed to.

20. Constantly told me I was either too fat or too skinny.

21. Told the family I was bulimic when I lost a bit of weight in my 20s.

22. Asked my sister what kind of kid she raised when I refused to agree to give my unborn baby to a sister who supposedly couldn't have kids (she now has two, BTW).

23. Dragged my then 14 year-old sister down the stairs and out of the house where she was then locked out. We all left for the night and then later told everyone that my sister ran away (I was nine at the time BTW).

24. Didn't allow us to eat or drink anything, including water, without permission.

25. Didn't allow us to come back in for the rest of the day if we chose to go play outside.

26. Sat in the living room watching soap operas and eating non-stop while her kids and the kids in her home daycare were forced to play outside until the predetermined time when we were all lined up to come in for a bathroom break.

27. Didn't allow us any more to drink with dinner. I think we might not have been allowed a drink until after dinner, but I'm foggy on that one.

28. Didn't allow her daycare kids to close the door when they used the bathroom.

Yeah, I don't have much love for my mother. She is very, very sick, and very, very unhealthy for me.

Coming Back Again

2008-03-09T17:58:00.001-07:00

So after crying pretty much all day, I finally called my sister.

It's been at least a year since I called her for a little breakdown. She moved far, far away about two years ago and our relationship hasn't been the same since.

I couldn't bear to call my therapist (and take the chance she couldn't help me). My boyfriend had done all he could. I tried a friend who tells funny stories that help me out but got his voice mail. Then I decided to call my sister.

Immediate relief.

My sister has many of the same issues so she got why I was so devastated. Plus, because she also overreacts-gets irrational-freaks out about small stressors and is older with many more years of therapy under her belt, she knows how to get me through it without making me feel worse about myself.

By the end I was laughing. I feel like I can get through the week until I can see my therapist.

It was starting to feel a bit scary for a bit which was making me feel even worse and more hopeless.

Luckily I have my sister.

Plus a shout-out to a blogger aquaintance from my other blogging nickname who responded quickly to my email plea for some commiserating. You gotta love the internet.

A Letter To Myself

2008-03-09T11:18:00.000-07:00

Dear Emma,

Please stop overanalyzing. You put aside your severe anxiety to try to go back to something you haven't done in 10 years. You heard about it last minute, had no idea how things were run, but you did it anyway.

Yes, you could have made a better decision on how to present yourself, but you did it. You made the attempt.

And even though it's incredibly painful, even though today was the death of a 17-year old dream, you didn't just let the opportunity pass. You went for it.

So go ahead and cry and be sad, but remember that you took a chance and did something that is extremely difficult for you and even if it didn't go as well as you wanted, you know you can do it. A bad day does not a bad person make. And you have video proof that you can do it. This just wasn't the time.

Sincerely,

Your more positive self

Coming Back

2008-03-09T05:46:00.000-07:00

Thursday ended up being another rough day. Friday, too.

The good new is that I didn't cut. I was just cranky and a bit weepy at times. There was no reason for me to feel so horrible. Today, I really can't remember what was going on in my head.

To make things worse, my Thursday counseling was cancelled. It'll have been three weeks by the time I see her again. I considered calling to get an earlier appointment, but I'm useless when I feel that low anyway. I'm better off talking about it later.

Friday night, I was in bed by 10 and woke at 10:30 the next morning because I heard my boyfriend on the phone. I guess I needed to sleep. It's starting to look like strange sleep is a new pattern. Last night, I couldn't get to sleep at a reasonable hour, but woke up easily to my alarm.

There are a number of factors that probably led to my mini-depression: I was coming back from a short vacation in another time zone, my boyfriend's truck is in the shop so he had to use my car therefore wrecking my routine, I was observed this week, I had several after work appointments, my boyfriend owes me about $1400, but he doesn't know how much of it he'll have until he pays to fix his truck forcing me to wait on paying my enormous credit card bill.

I'm too superstitious to share, but today I'm doing something exciting and scary. It'll likely leave me on edge for a few weeks and lead to either elation or depression. I feel calm today so I hope I can stay calm and focused. I doubled my Klonopin just in case (yeah, I know I shouldn't play with my meds, but I like playing with the Klonopin).

I'm a little upset about getting low symptoms again. When I told my doctor I feared crashing, I was reassured that this medication was different. It feels like my body has been reprogrammed. Ever since the severe swings of the Wellbutrin, it seems like my body has reawakened to those lows. I don't need a trigger. It just comes.

I experienced the same thing in my early twenties. It was pretty regular. Every Sunday night, I'd go crazy. I started journaling at the time hoping to find a pattern. Some Sundays were worse than others. I have several barely legible entries filled with death wishes. Sometimes I'd rage. Once, I punched a hole through the wall. Occasionally, I'd go for a 10 PM run around the neighborhood (very foolish in my part of the city) because I just needed to get all that excess out. I generally couldn't sleep until I'd worked myself into such an exhaustion that I'd crash. Those were some of the times I'd sleep in strange places. I had never been medicated at that point in my life and I was too distrustful of the mental health system to seek help.

It was having my daughter that changed things. But that's a story for another time.

Dear Past: Please Go Away!

2008-03-05T17:35:00.000-08:00

I feel incredibly sad and angry today.

The worst part is that my feelings are about very old wrongs- things I should be over.

I feel bitter and weak and I don't like it.

After a long weekend with my good parents, I find myself angry over how things were when I lived with them and how it carries over into today.

I'm angry about my ex-fiance and all the lies he told while I was with him and after I left- things that would make him out to be the good guy and me the awful bitch.

I'm angry that my best friend from way back when no longer calls when he's in town and doesn't even have room for me anymore in his top 20 myspace friends.

Yes, stupid, childish, bitter hurts that shouldn't bother me.

My life is good right now.

I have a terrific boyfriend, decent friends, a better relationship with my family.

But I'm feeling a deep, deep hurt inside.

I'm feeling that sense of being so unimportant that the world would be better without me in it. I'm feeling that feeling of being such a horrible person that I ruin everything I touch. I'm feeling the feeling of being a fraud. I feel like a bad person.

I'm afraid to admit it.

I've been doing so much better that I don't want anyone to know that I'm having a low like this. It makes me feel like a failure. It makes me feel sick. Why is it that healing makes me want to lie?

Today I told the psychiatrist I've had no thoughts of hurting myself even as the cuts on my belly itched in their almost-healed state.

The thing is, I rarely lie. I'm awful at it. Unless I'm lying about how I'm really feeling. I lie about the dark stuff because I'm afraid of what they will do with me.

Some days I think being hospitalized would be a relief, but most days I feel like being hospitalized would be the biggest failure ever.

Just today, the same boyfriend who barely blinked at my confessions of cutting basically told me that if I attempted suicide he'd be out of my life.

That stigma is sometimes the only thing that has kept me alive. That stigma is also the only thing that keeps me from fully healing. If I cannot confess that yes I do want to die, how can I ever learn to deal with those feelings?

I like my counselor and my therapist, but I'm afraid they will want to put me away. I have a job to do and a life to lead. I can't go away.

So I fake it. I pretend. I'm so good at it that those close to me don't believe there is anything seriously wrong with me. My problem is little. I don't really have any major problems.

I think wanting to die is a major problem.

And I do.

The only times I ever pray, it is about death. Most times, I thank god for giving me a good life. I tell him I've experienced a lot of great things, but that I'm tired now so please could he let me die.

Sometimes I sit and sob and just beg over and over: "Please let me die."

I suppose the only good news is that tonight, I don't want to cut. I just want an endless sleep.

Ooops!

2008-02-25T14:22:00.000-08:00

Last time I brought my boyfriend to counseling, cutting came up.

He asked about my hands which led to a story from him which led into a discussion about cutting in the midst of which my counselor turned to me and asked if I'd ever cut.

I hadn't planned to tell, but I also don't lie, so I admitted it but left out the recent episodes.

I asked my boyfriend later how he knew. He said he had researched my hands, saw all the different things, noticed I did all of them except for cutting (that he knew of) so he figured I probably self-injured too.

I'd hidden it from him until now. It isn't unusual for me to leave my shirt on when we're intimate so when I've cut, all I have to remember is to make sure I don't absentmindedly change shirts in front of him.

Like I did today.

I wanted his help to take off a necklace and walked into the room shirtless. I was holding the shirt I was getting ready to put on, but I had forgotten about the long cuts on my belly.

He asked. Immediately.

I lied (probably unconvincingly).

He accepted it by not challenging me and then just hugged me and said he loved me.

I can't believe I forgot.

Just A Little

2008-02-24T18:38:00.000-08:00

I had to cut a little.

Got an email from someone whose opinion means a lot to me.

She specifically asked for my diagnosis.

I emailed with it.

I just feel off.

Could also have something to do with the three mixed drinksI had with dinner.

Telling

2008-02-24T17:37:00.000-08:00

I had to tell my daughter'sfamily.

I was nervous about doing it.

I got a reaction that was the opposite of what I'd feared.

Instead of being freaked out about such a serious diagnosis, they don't really believe it.

Right now my anxiety is a little high.

I suppose a part of me is glad, but the other part of me wants to scream: do you really think I'd share all the crazy details with you so you'd be convinced?!!!!!!!

At the same time, their reaction is about the same as mine was when the doctors first started kicking around a diagnosis. Plus, I know a lot of people feel that we're a little diagnosis crazy right now in the good old USA. I imagine my daughter's parents fall into that.

I just didn't like it being minimized [Her (after a story about someone she knows): well I'm sure what he is dealing with is much worse than what you are.]

I hide it. I watch the people around me very carefully so I can blend. I've told no one but the psychiatrist about my desires to die. Why would I? Yes, I've always blamed it on my shitty childhood (which I don't share with them), but is it so bad to find out that all my quirks are not just from a poor upbringing, but from poor wiring. In fact, my shitty childhood probably has a lot to do with my own parents undiagnosed wiring issues.

The good news is that she supports the medication if it makes me feel well. So do I. I want to take it for the rest of my life. I've done more to improve my personal situation in the past week than I have in my own life. My boyfriend said if I get the sexual side effects he'll gladly deal with it to get the benefit of the improved me.

I no longer freeze up at the most minor task. I just get things done.

Are there others like me without a diagnosis? Yes, probably a whole bunch. Not a lot of people have good health care. The kind of stuff in my head isn't something you're really inclined to share. A lot of the other symptoms just appear to stem from laziness or some other personal failure. I wish we could all get help.

So anyway, I'm a bit mixed up about the results.

Me and My Anxiety

2008-02-20T13:36:00.000-08:00

My anxiety comes out in my hands.

One of the most frustrating things I found as my anxiety climbed was that my hands would shake. I'd be making breakfast or writing something down, or trying to pay the clerk at the store, but my shaking hands wouldn't let me.

The shaking hands were always a sign that the day would be especially difficult.

I also have the need to stretch my fingers, particularly the web part where the fingers join. It drives my boyfriend nuts. He's always trying to grab my hands to make me stop, but it just makes the need more urgent.

I brought him to counseling again and before we left, he asked about my hands.

She explained that it was just a way to let out the anxiety. She also told him something she hadn't told me. When I first started seeing her and she had to rate my anxiety on a scale of 1-10, she simply drew an arrow pointing up. My anxiety was off the charts- 95 trillion she said.

I'm doing much better now.

Still, it's starting to creep back.

I had a bad night a couple of Saturdays ago (though the counselor reminded me that it subsided instead of taking over my day). Today was another rough day. I woke up in tears again, had the shaking hands, couldn't stand to be touched, and needed a brief cry after returning some shoes (on the plus side, before medication, I wouldn't have even been able to return the shoes.)

The good news is that I saw my psychiatrist today. I felt a little like I did the first time I saw him. I jumped when he walked in.

So we're increasing my dose and I'll see him again in a couple of weeks.

For some reason, the anxiety is the most difficult for me, even worse than my deep, dark lows. It's obvious, it's embarrassing, and it keeps me from doing plain old every day things.

I've liked having calmer days.

My Niece

2008-02-14T03:45:00.000-08:00

My mom called me this weekend.

I owe a whole other post about my latest therapy session which lasted two hours and was primarily about my mother. But that's for another day.

She started telling me about the daughter of a sister I don't speak to. My sister's daughter is three and a half and my sister has started taking her to therapy. The kid is showing early onset of the same thing I have been diagnosed with.

My niece's therapist suspects something else, but my niece is showing huge mood swings that are evident even in therapy. The something else was one of the questions I was asked by the psychiatrist because it is the most common misdiagnosis in kids.

I sent my mom a link to a helpful site designed just for parents of early onset kids. I didn't tell her anything about me. She doesn't even know I am in therapy.

My mom said that one of my sisters (who is a pretty classic case, though undiagnosed) showed the same signs as my niece at that age. My mom also described how many of the other family members, including her, my dad, and my sister-the mom of this kid, showed a lot of the signs as well. She considers me and my third sister to be the exceptions. Little does she know.

It suggests to me that I was on the path of turning into one of them. It suggests to me that I have the genes on both sides. It suggests to me that while I may be the only family member with this diagnosis, I'm certainly not the only one with the disorder. It tells me that I need to get it into my own daughter's medical records fast.

Interestingly, my mom hadn't shared this info with my other sister- the one I'm close to. Usually that sister gets all the news. It's a bit cosmic actually.

The whole thing made me think a lot. My good sister said I was right not to tell my mom about my diagnosis. I was feeling morally conflicted.

Moods

2008-02-06T17:03:00.000-08:00

I'm still doing well.

I feel myself leveling out a bit.

Today, I feel a bit sad, but I've been watching old home movies so I figure that's why.

Sunday was wonderful. I stayed up way too late though. Monday, I got sick. By mid-morning, I was feling weak and dizzy. By last period, the students were telling me I needed to see the nurse.

I left right after school. I declined an offer for a ride home from a former nurse who was worried about me. As I left, I was also asked about my diagnosis by someone who works in my room. I confessed because she specifically asked about that disorder.

I stayed home yesterday, still feeling weak and ill which suggested it wasn't just a lack of sleep. By evening, I felt a lot better. It didn't matter, I had to go to class anyway. Class was good- better than all of our previous sessions.

I felt good today- enjoying my good classes and struggling a bit with my tough groups. Overall, I feel good.

Right now I'm tired. My boyfriend isn't in a great mood. I think a mix of that and the home movies is wearing on me.

I can't stop watching though. I never can.

Medication and Acceptance Update

2008-02-02T07:06:00.000-08:00

I've felt awesome.

Monday I reorganized my classroom and I spent a good part of my work week doing other organizing and getting things done.

I also felt like I could teach again. I've been going through the motions all year, but I felt the spark come back. I'm enjoying the kids. I'm enjoying the lessons.

I called some parents, submitted some ideas for things to up above, ran some very successful group meetings. My head is clearer. I'm happier and more energetic.

When I come home, I'm a little hyper. I want to talk. I want to cuddle. The boyfriend and I have had sex every day at my urging.

I've been staying up later. I want to do things. Again, I'm a bit hyper and energetic (the psychiatrist suggested I give the medication a few more weeks to even out).

I no longer feel frozen. I was able to talk about some things with my counselor that I hadn't been able to. She was thrilled to get some of the "puzzle pieces" and wants to hug the psychiatrist.

As the psychiatrist suggested, I increased my dose of the main med- going up on Saturday night and then Wednesday night-putting myself at the dose I'll likely stay at.

I have a few concerns about the giddy hyperactivity- the feeling of talking too much (mostly sharing too much). The feeling is very familiar and something I'd worked hard not to do anymore. Hopefully the therapist can help me with that so that I can determine the difference between appropriate and inappropriate revelation.

Wednesday and last night, I got tired around 8 and ended up going to bed shortly after and sleeping through the night (the quality of my sleep is also greatly improved). I assume it's because I'm staying up much later than usual on the other nights, but I plan to watch that pattern and try to even out my sleep cycle.

I have some worries about crashing again especially after yesterday and this morning. Both doctors assured me that this medication is very different. I may just need to adjust to having normal responses to stressors. Last night, my boyfriend assured me that I should feel sad about my mother's email. Unspoken was the idea that sadness does not mean I'm going to fall back down.

Overall, I'm thrilled. I feel great. My boyfriend is happy. I feel like I did when we first got together. I want to touch him again. All the happiness is back. In short, I want to stay this way.

I've been reading about my problem. I have more questions than answers. I now believe the diagnosis. I also believe I have a hyperthemic personality because how I feel right now (which could easily qualify as hypomanic) is how I remember my normal mood being. I no longer feel like my med reaction was a fluke. I'm thinking clearly. I'm going back. I'm leaning toward one of the two main forms of my disease. This book has a chart in it that I found extraordinarily helpful. It breaks the classic symptoms of mania down into four levels of severity with real descriptions of what it's like. I fell toward the more severe end, but not the most severe. It and another book I read also described "soft signs". I pretty much have all of them though the number that apply to you is not indicative of the likliness that you are afflicted.

I've had some problems with the diagnosis because it seems that my moods are triggered by external events, something my boyfriend also said when he met with my counselor. To me that says normal. Yet this is a known aspect of the disease and the research shows that eventually the mood changes no longer require a "trigger". I'm looking forward to reading more. I'm also leaning toward telling my family, but I want to read more before I do.

PS My spellcheck is broken and I often miss letters while I type so please forgive any weird spellings.

I Don't Need Freud for This One

2008-02-02T05:41:00.000-08:00

This morning I woke up crying.

I woke from a dream.

I was visiting my stepmother. There were some other folks visiting as well. It may have been my siblings but I have a vague recollection that some of them were friends instead.

We had just finished a meal and the other visitors were chatting, but nobody noticed me.

I went looking for a piece of chocolate. My stepmom usually has some because my dad and I both like a sweet after a meal.

The only chocolate was a half-empty box of some kind of chocolate-caramel-toffee concoction.

I took a bite of one.

Then I asked my stepmom if she had any other chocolate asnd she said no. So I went to finish the piece I'd started.

She took one look at me and got upset: "You're eating it anyway!" She looked like she was going to cry and she was really disappointed in me. She was going to use that chocolate for some seafood dish. I tried to tell her that I only ate one. It didn't help. I told her I'd buy hr a new box, but she was so disappointed in me.

I went over to the others- trying not to get upset. I was still invisible to them.

I started crying.

I woke up sobbing.

Once the time zone allows me to call her, I will. I might call my counselor today, too.

Four Things

2008-02-01T03:01:00.000-08:00

You know that four things meme? The one that has you list four of a bunch of things (favorite foods, previous jobs, etc.) Well my mom just sent it to all of us by email.

One of the items was "Four places you'd rather be right now".

My mom put in bed as the first. She then used the other three to say she'd rather be visiting each of her three kids...ooops, except she has four kids.

Yup, she left me out.

And she sent it to me.

The four of us kids live in three different states. The state was part of her description. Clearly, it would have been easy to include me with the other sister that lives in my state. She also could have diplomatically used a generic "visiting my kids (or family) in_________" like one of my sisters did. I suposse she wanted me to get the message.

I already know that I'm my mom's least favorite, and I have two sisters who do everything they can to keep it that way. When I was thirteen, I went to court to tell them I wanted to live with my father. My family has never forgiven me for choosing him. My mom and I have never been close though I make a point to stay in touch.

I guess it all doesn't really matter.

It just hurt an awful lot to read that.

Yays and Nays

2008-01-27T17:31:00.000-08:00

I don't know how far I'll get, but here goes:

Nay: I've never lost a job or been unable to work.
Yay: I've left many jobs because I'd gotten to the point where I was more annoyed than productive. I have also gotten away with a lot of stuff because I initially present as an incredible worker.

Nay: I require a lot of sleep and I take it seriously.
Yay: There are distinct periods in my teens and twenties when I got by with little sleep. Part of the reason I take my sleep so seriously is because I've learned that I function better when I get a full night of sleep. Whenever I find myself talking too much or too fast, I attribute it to not getting enough sleep.

Nay: Most would describe me as shy. And emotionless.
Yay: I'm also described as vibrant and energetic. I distinctly recall people being surprised to see another side of me.

Nay: People see me as stable.
Yay: It takes a lot of energy for me to appear stable. In my teens, people thought I did drugs because I seemed like I was on something. There have been similar experiences in adulthood, but they are shorter and I work very hard not to let it show.

Nay: As a rule, I hate shopping.
Yay: There are days when I want to shop. I often buy plenty of things I don't need. I have lots of things that I've never even opened (or worn, or read).

Nay: There is nothing impulsive about me.
Yay: Unless it involves inappropriate physical stuff. I flew across the world for Christmas one year and came home pregnant. I have many embarrassing stories about poor and impulsive sexual decisions. Very few were fueled by alcohol. In the past 7 years or so, I've tried very hard to avoid the temptation. I have a daughter that proves I'm not always successful.

Over the years, I've often felt that who I am depends on the day and always felt stupid, immature, or weak for not having a clearer sense of self.

I've fluctuated between thinking I will change the world to feeling invisible and insignificant, from not being able to make eye contact with anyone to walking into a strange place as if I own it, from despising the touch of a man (or woman) to relishing the ability to make them want me.

I've always felt like I was one little breakdown away from a lifetime in an institution. I've been terrified that one day I wouldn't be able to hide it anymore. I've wanted the safety of a padded room so I could finally let go.

Yet......

I always thought it was my upbringing, the various traumas, something I could recover from if I could only get the courage to ask for help and tell the truth.

And still, I feel like all the different moods and mes are absolutely normal. Who makes that line anyway? What's wrong with feeling terrific and full of energy? Was I really over that line?

I remember my old boss telling me to slow down. I remember being too fast even though I remember no recent incidents of being that way.

I think about others who seem worse off than me, only to be reminded that I have probably been drawn to others with their own demons.

Simultaneously, I feel relief that there is a name for what ails me and disgust for even considering there is something wrong with me- there is nothing wrong with me. It's just another way for me to feel different and special.

I read about it and think- yes, that's me, and later chide myself for reading too much into both my actions and the research. It isn't me.

I want to be normal, but I also want to give in and accept that I no longer need to be strong. My difficulties are not some kind of character flaw. I can get help.

Medication Report

2008-01-26T15:24:00.000-08:00

Wednesday Night: 1 dose of each before bed

My boyfriend reports that my sleep was calm. I did wake up twice during the night.

Thursday: 1 dose before work

I felt very calm. I also felt a bit slow, though not really groggy. I enjoyed my students more than I have in awhile. I had a friend over. I was still slow, but not irritable or anxious.

I do seem to have a runny nose.

I stayed up until after ten.

I took a dose of each before bed.

I slept calmly and through the night.

Friday: 1 dose before work

I had no trouble getting up. I felt wonderful all day. My head felt clear. I had energy. I felt like I actually get things done. I faced a negative situation at work without any anxiety. I asserted myself with someone who was trying to take over a project I was leading.

I was able to joke a bit and chat with people.

My thoughts were just so clear and calm.

In the afternoon, I had a long overdue chat with a colleague who is bringing the team down. I needed to confront him about several things. The few times I felt myself getting annoyed, it immediately subsided with little effort. We ended up talking for about two hours. Many times he became defensive and argumentative and he made several direct attacks at me. I maintained my composure without conceding my position. At the end he thanked me several times for the tough love and shook my hand.

I didn't feel guilty about leaving the group I was leading.

I invited a colleague out for a drink. When he misunderstood and took me to join other colleagues (2 of the 3 that I don't care for) I was neither embarrassed nor anxious.

We had a good time and I ended up regretting a decision I made earlier in the week not to go to a little party.

I went home to my boyfriend and took my afternoon dose. I was able to accept and reciprocate all physical affection. He's doing extra because he came to counseling with me and she put him in charge of exposure therapy to help me get over my touch aversion. I was very chatty. My sister called and I was overly chatty with her to. I was speaking quite quickly.

We ordered pizza and I ate a bit more than usual.

By 8:30, I could no longer keep my eyes open so I went to bed.

I took my two pills before bed and slept soundly and through the night.

Saturday:
I woke up really early (5 AM) with non-med related cramps. I didn't feel groggy.

I had a typical slow weekend morning which means I took the pill a bit late and didn't have breakfast quickly enough.

I started playing a video game, but got really tired (9AM).

I ate something. Then my boyfriend got up and we decided to go out for breakfast.

We did breakfast and errands. I felt happy and not anxious. We skipped and I sang.

By the end of the erranding (1PM), I had really slowed down. I was having trouble walking. My body felt like lead. I felt really tired.

When we got home (2PM), I immediately put jammies on and laid on the couch. I caught up with some TV, and then fell asleep (by 4 the latest).

I was starting to wake up around 6. My boyfriend also came to wake me. I was very sweaty. I still feel slow, heavy, and tired. It's possible I'm finally catching one of the many illnesses going around my school.

The Psychiatrist In the Flesh

2008-01-23T17:47:00.000-08:00

I got a tentative diagnosis.

Two new prescriptions. One familiar. One terrifying.

A stern warning to stop my current medications immediately.

I'm in denial.

The psychiatrist made me say it aloud when I confessed to him that I knew what he and my therapist and my primary care were questioning me about. I tried not to say it, but he questioned it out of me.

With difficulty, I confided in my sister. I talked around it with the boyfriend. He looked up the new medication. We are coping by cracking jokes about my having one of the other conditions it treats.

I have counseling tomorrow. I don't know that I'll be able to speak.

Two Days

2008-01-19T07:45:00.000-08:00

Thursday, I was a little cranky.

I felt fine most of the day, but when afternoon came, my anxiety and irritability increased.

I had a friend over even though I didn't want to. We mostly had fun, and before he left, we played a new video game I'd gotten.

It was my bedtime when he left, and against my better judgement, I decided to play a bit more. When 11:30 came around, my boyfriend walked into the room to ask if I knew what time it was.

I decided I should go to bed so I turned off the game and laid on the couch. I've been sleeping on the couch during the week because I sleep better there. It started because my boyfriend was really sick and then I just continued. I've gone through many periods in my life, both single and coupled, when I've chosen to sleep on couches or in chairs rather than in a bed. It's usually because I need the safe feeling I get from being mostly surrounded by furniture.

My boyfriend wanted me to come to bed instead and so he sat on the couch to chat with me.

The problem was that his chat turned into a complaining session about something I'm quite sensitive about. I managed to keep my mouth shut this time, because I knew how late it was and that I was likely to say things I'd regret if I spoke. I was angry that he chose to discuss it right after reminding me that it was long after the time I am usually asleep.

I went to sleep angry- by then, we both expected that I would stay on the couch rather than joining him.

The next day, I put in extra effort to do things he would like. Even though I thought he owed me an apology, I was well aware that he has been putting up with an awful lot the past few months. Putting in the effort to give us a good night- free from my irritability and anxiety was the least I could do. I was feeling quite good- talking more than usual, joking more, enjoying the world more. We made plans to go out to dinner.

I got home much later than I'd expected. We went out to dinner and had quite a nice night. As is usually the case, he needed a few minutes when we got home to get over that "I ate too much " feeling. A few minutes passed and he came in to lead me to the bedroom.

Things were fine until he suddenly decided that foreplay was a great time to start a fight.

I suppose I need to say that my frequent inability to get physical is probably his only complaint about me. The number of days during which I cannot stand to be touched have steadily increased in the past few months. It's not just about the sex. My boyfriend is a cuddly, affectionate guy. I have to work really hard not to push him away when he tries to wrap his arms around me.

It isn't always like this. I do have days when I want the affection and my therapist is helping me work on this touching issue. I've been making progress.

But I digress.

I angrily left the room, going back in to let him know that if he wasn't satisfied with me, he was welcome to move out.

I retreated to me couch where I tried very hard to push my anger back down. I imagined him moving out. I was busy working out the finances in my head when he came into the room, laid his head beside me, and said simply, "I'm sorry."

One of other issues is that he doesn't generally apologize. Problems that could easily be solved with a very simple apology often escalate because his guilt about hurting me comes out as defensiveness rather than contrition.

So I knew the apology was genuine.

The problem was that the anger I was feeling was already out of control.

I need to confess that this anger has come up a few times in the past few months. Sadly, I've responded the way I did when I was thirteen- by finding the nearest sharp object with which to cut into my flesh. This is regression at its finest.

I didn't do that this time and once he was there, I couldn't very well excuse myself to take care of it (he doesn't know that I've ever had this problem). So the anger just built.

I started shaking, breathing heavily, sobbing.

I thought I was going to die.

This time, I didn't just want to die- I was convinced I would. I envisioned jumping off buildings, swallowing whatever pills I had left, anything.

In my head, I was begging to be taken to a hospital. In my head, I was screaming for my counselor. In my head, I was convinced that this was the breakdown I'd been anticipating all my life.

I needed a hospital.

Except that I couldn't speak or move other than the rather frightening version of sobbing I was doing.

I finally managed to squeak out that I couldn't handle lying in the dark anymore so my boyfriend turned on the light and I sat up and desperately concentrated on bringing myself back.

I focused on the digital clock above the stove and grabbed on to the blankets around me. I scratched my palms with my fingernails and clenched and unclenched my fists and did everything I could to keep myself physically above despair.

Slowly I started coming back.

My boyfriend and I had a long-overdue and very healing conversation about the problems we were having. He finally confessed that he feels too stupid to just admit and accept when he does something wrong. Other things were spoken of.

He was very concerned about what he described as a very physical and angry response to the stress. When he admitted that he wondered if he needed to take me to the hospital, I admitted that I had wanted him to. Neither of us said what kind of hospital. I told him that I would leave my counselor's number available so that he could call her if I ever got that way again. I did not admit to the depths of my despair. I have never admitted it.

I went into our bed and turned on a kid's movie, staying up much later than usual- feeling comforted by the story and giggling like a kid would. Eventually I fell asleep.

Today, I feel mostly calm. Yes, I am extremely restless. Yes, I am cringing from any touch. But in my core I feel a purging.

I hope the weekend is healing.

What I'm Afraid Of: Part One

2008-01-14T16:51:00.000-08:00

This fall, my doctor put me on Zoloft.

I'd been med-free for several years, but my anxiety was increasing and I was finding it difficult to function.

The night of my first pill, I felt like I was on speed. I couldn't slow down and I couldn't stop talking.

Although this feeling decreased, I was far more anxious than usual.

Upon hearing my reaction, both my therapist and my doctor asked me similar questions. I knew what they were asking about and answered no to all of them with little thought.

My doctor switched me to Wellbutrin. In my haste to stop the Zoloft, I decided to just extend the amount of time between doses rather than taking a half dose. I was still on the smallest dose so I didn't think anything of it. Instead of taking the Zoloft in the evening, I took it when I woke up the next morning.

This time, it was much worse. People at work were asking if I was okay. I found it impossible to sit still. I felt like I was going crazy.

I never took it again.

That week, I sunk into a deep depression. By the time the week was out, I was feeling better. I was on the Wellbutrin by then.

At first, I described the Wellbutrin as my miracle drug. I felt terrific.

But it didn't last.

And since then, I've been cycling- my mood is up and down.

My therapist brought it up again- the same thing she asked about because of the Zoloft.

I don't want to believe it.

This weekend, I dug my old journals out from the basement and started reading. I was hoping to gain some insight before my visit with the psychiatrist.

I was disturbed by what I read.

The Psychiatrist

2008-01-11T17:20:00.001-08:00

I finally have an appointment.

It wasn't easy to get. When I finally got a real person again, she didn't believe that my insurance covered it. I wondered why they'd had me call if they weren't going to believe me.

It took two more phone calls after that to finally get an appointment. On the last call she was finally nice to me.

I felt depressed all week. Finally on Tuesday, I slept well. Wednesday ended up being a good day.

I also spent about an hour and a half with my crush Wednesday evening, working much later than usual.

It was interesting.

Yesterday, my anxiety was through the roof. I wasn't able to hide it like I usually can. It's probably the most anxious my counselor has seen me.

Today I'm exhausted.

I feel everything else too, but mostly I'm exhausted which is why I'm giving brief accounts of my moods instead of the more detailed accounts I had planned to give.

Mostly, I'm scared. My counselor brought it up again. It's starting to seem more real and I don't want it to be.

Calm

2008-01-06T14:10:00.000-08:00

I'm okay.

Just thought I'd throw that out here.

We did go out. I felt weird, but still had fun.

Today I did nothing. I really need to work on that. I have all these things I want to do and plenty of things I need to do, but instead I waste entire days on the computer doing absolutely nothing. I'm not even keeping up with the blogs I usually keep up with or editing pictures, or making playlists, or doing anything fun. I really just waste the time.

It took me all day to get in a place where I could call my nephew to make plans.

I hate days like these. I just get frozen.

On the plus side, I do feel calm. I was able to be more affectionate than usual. I did manage to take a shower and get dressed.

Still, it'd be nice to do something worthwhile before the work week begins again.

I Want to Feel Good Again

2008-01-05T15:56:00.000-08:00

Two days ago, my therapist said I semed better than she'd ever seen me. She told me she had been wondering if the stress level I'd been presenting was my baseline. She also decided that a part of my problem must be with work.

Today I want to die.

I felt anxious all day. I tried really hard to behave my way out of it- concentrate, act happy, joke around, push my anxiety boundaries, think good thoughts. Nothing helped.

This afternoon, my boyfriend and I had the same disagreement we always have. We never yell or fight nasty, but we never resolve it.

It was enough to put me over the edge.

I tried music, reading, mindless games, just letting myself cry.

I feel one little step away from never making it back up. The only thing keeping me somewhat together is the knowledge that this is always how I feel. It's becoming expected.

I wish I knew what to do to keep from falling.

I can think of better things to do with my day than being unable to function.

Plus, we had plans tonight, but I don't know if we'll end up going. Today will probably ruin our weekend and bring us right back to the roller coaster we've been on.

And no, I still haven't had any luck getting an appointment with that psychiatrist.

Seeing a Psychiatrist

2008-01-02T13:43:00.000-08:00

My therapist is referring me to a psychiatrist in order to get help with medication and with a diagnosis.

Before she passed it on to me, she found some psychiatrists who took my insurance, found out who was accepting new patients, and considered what she knew about me to make the match.

We settled on one and she was going to make an appointment, but was told it would be easier if I did it so she passed the number along to me, assuring me that the receptionist was very nice and would take good care of me (anxiety, phone phobia, inability to ask for help, etc..)

I was leaving last Thursday afternoon for an out of town trip and decided to set up the appointment that day because today would be the next business day available.

I called the office and was asked about my insurance. The receptionist said she didn't think I was covered and that I would need to call my imnsurance company. I told her that the therapist referring me had already checked and that I was suppossed to be all set to just set up the appointment. "No, no, no.." she responded. I got a lecture about insurance and about how the patient is the one who checks and was given a whole bunch of other information that wasn't necessary.

I tried to assert myself a bit and was met with the same callous dismissal. There was no softness to this person at all.

When the call ended, I fell apart.

I get an upset stomach every time I have to make a call. Even when it goes well, I remain jittery.

When things veer off course, I get irritable and even more anxious.

When my integrity is questioned, I get angry.

When I have to ask for help, I feel like a scared little kid.

When I feel vulnerable, I am easily intimidated by others.

I really want to see this psychiatrist.

Today, I finally called my insurance company. First I was directed to their website, but I wasn't confident about my findings. So I called.

I just spent about a half an hour on the phone with a woman from my insurance company. She was amazing and went well beyond her obligations. The psychiatrist has relocated, but didn't update with the insurance company. She called his old office and his new one (I gave her the number because I elected not to call) to confirm that it was the same person.

I am covered.

So I called the psychiatrist's office again.

The receptionist asked about my insurance immediately again. I told her that I had called the other day and that I had checked with my insurance and that I was covered, but I was interrupted so she could ask me again (in our initial call, she wrote down my name to supposedly speed up the process the next time I called).

This time she told me she was too busy to set it up and that she would call me back.

I had to give her my name again. When I started to spell my last name, she told me to slow down because she was still writing my first name. Then, as I spelled my last name, she was confirming most of the letters after I'd already moved on to the next so I started to slow down. At this point she gruffly informed me that I could go faster. She showed the same impatience when she asked for my phone number.

I wonder if she'll actually call me back.

For a psychiatrist's receptionist, she's awfully difficult to deal with.

My Week

2008-01-01T19:48:00.000-08:00

I didn't realize it had been so long since I last posted.

It's been a great week.

Other than a little psychiatrist-related breakdown on Thursday, I've been really good.

I've avoided most personal contact, but my boyfriend and I have spent more quality time together than we have in a long time. It was really nice to reconnect with him. My recent anxiety and depression have really been hard on our relationship. Most days, I can't stand to be touched. I'm irritable and uncommunicative. This week has been nice.

He did his part by spending the time with me. I'm hoping he recognized how his actions contributed to my improved mood and responsiveness. I have brought it up with him, but I think seeing it and recognizing it will be more effective.

In 2008, I want to focus on us.

I've always felt like we were perfectly matched, but lately my anxiety has made it difficult for me to focus on all those good things. This past week brought back all those warm and fuzzy and connected feelings for me. I'm very glad.

This year, I actually care about the new year. And I'm not thinking about any professional goals (a huge change for me!). I want to balance my personal life instead.

I Have A Crush

2007-12-25T06:33:00.000-08:00

First of all, my boyfriend and I were made for each other. We are blissfully happy and regularly told by strangers and non-strangers how good we are together.

Recently, I developed a crush on a coworker.

I can't tell anyone because I'm horribly embarrassed. I want it to go away.

I have to spend a lot of time with my crush- often alone. I get so anxious when I'm with him. He's commented on how professional I a with him. I'm glad I come off that way because I try very hard not to let my crush be known.

And if it wasn't bad enough to get all these crushy feelings when I'm with him, I dream about him every single night! A lot of the dreams are not things I should be dreaming about a coworker and they are getting increasingly less apropos.

I sense that the feeling is mutual and that he feels just as conflicted as I do. I know that neither of us wants to have this crush. I'd like to just enjoy working with him.

A few weeks ago, I had to give him my phone number because I had to cut a meeting short, but still needed to confer with him about a project.

That night he called to ask me a non-urgent question. He didn't call again until this past week- this time the question could have been asked in an email. Last night he sent me a text with a picture of his tree wishing me a merry christmas.

I think a big part of my crush is because this guy has many of the qualities I love in my boyfriend, but with none of the baggage that comes with a long relationship. I think it's the same for him (oh yeah, he's married). I've met his wife and I think I'm a lot like her. I also think that we each have a little desirable something that our partners don't have.

Still, I don't really care about the reason. I just need the crush to go away.

A Bit of Amusement

2007-12-25T06:26:00.000-08:00

I went for counseling yesterday. While I was waiting, something occurred to me.

My counseling appointments take place on the fourth floor of a really old and empty building in a bad part of a nearby city (the building is across from the downtown bus station). I usually go at night, and my counselor does home visits so I'm usually waiting a little bit before she gets there.

I was referred for counseling to help me deal with an anxiety disorder.

Somehow, I don't think the location is appropriate.

This Is Why I'm Here

2007-12-24T07:38:00.000-08:00

For over three years, I've kept two blogs going. One is a general blog that I'm still keeping up with. The other belongs to a specific category, and I've decided not to blog there anymore.

That specific blog was quite popular in its category. I never really intended it to be. I started it because I needed a place to write about that part of my life. When other people like me started to discover it and read it and comment on my words, I was initially really happy. I know no one in real life who can relate so the blog world offered a support system.

So why would I disappear from a place that was a support?

Part of the reason I left was because some of my family and friends read it. I was tired of censoring, tired of leaving out a big part of my story in order to keep from offending them.

A bigger reason was that eventually I started to feel like I no longer fit. The blog was causing even more anxiety rather than being the release it once was.

The first signs of trouble began when the blog first gained popularity. I knew from my stats who was reading me. Suddenly, a bunch of other women like me started blogging and somehow I was the blog left off the blogrolls. Many of them copied my style, echoed my topics of the day, and yet I was never acknowledged. I was the black sheep of the community.

I wrote about it once (while trying not to sound like a loser) and a bunch of folks piped in to say how much they valued my voice. I've gotten many more comments like that over the years, and yet I'm never invited into the clique. New blogs continued to pop up and get praised and added and recommended while I remained invisible.

I felt ridiculous for caring, but it hurt. I'd comment on some of the new blogs and yet I still wasn't added. Blogs like mine would be recommended somewhere by one of our community, but I'd be left off. Yet people were reading, I was on some recommended lists in my category from sites that weren't part of us, the same folks that left me out would turn around and tell me that my posts were the best thing they'd ever read on that topic. That kind of stuff wasn't exactly helping me keep my moods stable.

Lately, I've become even less a part of that group, but I know the reason this time.

It's because I refuse to say that I made the wrong choice. I don't believe that I did. I believe I did the best thing I could. All the other bloggers like me are convinced that their choice was wrong. They are banding together to try to convince the world that it is always wrong. So despite the fact that we completely agree about so many other things, I know that when I wouldn't join their crusade, when I continued to openly state that I did the right thing, these women had to start cutting me out. If they didn't, I would hurt their cause.

I'm not a fan of groupthink and I think that a bunch of others in that community are just jumping on to be in. My other big complaint is that their stubborness is ruining their fight. Their cause is a worthwhile and noble one, but when they refuse to acknowledge the gray, they are no longer heard by the people that need to hear it the most.

So I needed to get away.

I want a place where I can write openly once again.

And for right now, I prefer not to acknowledge what community I was involved in because I'm not interested in being found.

I'll Be Home (Alone) for Christmas

2007-12-24T07:13:00.000-08:00

I'm doing nothing for Christmas.

I told my boyfriend to work. I'll be staying home probably catching up on my Tivo.

I've tried to act like it doesn't bother me. Y'know, I've already had my Christmas and all that jazz.

The truth is, I'm pretty down about it. It just doesn't feel like a holiday. The aloneness is just a reminder of how crazy my family is because while it is true that much of my family has moved away, there are still quite a few family members left here: two sets of grandparents, several aunts and uncles, some cousins, and a sister.

In a normal family, I imagine that someone would have asked what I'm doing. In a normal family, I imagine I could have asked one of them.

Instead, I'll be home alone wondering when my life got so pathetic.

This is why I work so much- I can't stand to be reminded of how utterly alone (and invisible) I really am.

Making Friends

2007-12-20T03:10:00.000-08:00

I'm hopeless when it comes to making friends. Most days I can accept that, but other days I miserably try to figure out what is wrong with me.

Last night it occurred to me that I've had two almost identical experiences with friends in the workplace- one for each of the "real" jobs I've held since college.

At the first place, I became friends with L and S. I was really close to L, sharing everything with her. L thought that S was weak and flighty; S drove L nuts and was spoken of with distaste. They were not friends. As is typical of me, I openly remained friends with both; I've never been the type to choose sides or talk trash about people behind their backs.

Eventually the three of us ended up with opportunities to hang out and L started to see all the great things about S. They became great friends in fact, and slowly their friendship surpassed the one I had with either. I became a third wheel, a bother, a hopeless case. We all moved to other jobs, but continued to see each other occasionally. Sometimes I was included; sometimes I wasn't. It's been over a year now since I've heard from either one.

At my current job I became friends with a different L. I was already friends with J, but I got really close to L. Again, L didn't like J; she thought J was mean and untrustworthy. Again, I stayed friends with both. Again, the three of us ended up hanging out. Again, L changed her mind about J. Again I was pushed aside.

It's a little different this time. My friendship with J is still pretty strong. I probably have a deeper friendship with her than L does, but my friendship with L no longer exists. Interestingly enough, their friendship is now based on the same things L hated about J to begin with. The other difference is that although I am sad about losing my friendship with L, I don't want to rekindle it. I don't really like her anymore. She's become too negative and self-congratulatory.

I miss the first L. The child in me wants to beg her to be my friend again. How did I mess it up? What can I do to make it up to you?

The thing is, I'm not sure what happened. The two situations have another similarity:

In the middle of both friendships, I went through a traumatic event unrelated to the friendship. In both cases, these women were my rocks. In both cases, the friendships not only survived the trauma; they survived my painful recovery. I know I wasn't fun to be with. I know I wasn't much of a friend during these times. I know I was a downer.

I would have understood if the friendships fell apart during this time.

They didn't. The friendships fell apart when I started doing well. When I started to feel like myself again- like the person they became friends with in the first place, when I could laugh and have fun again, suddenly I stopped being invited to do things and my invitations were ignored. I'd get one or two more invites- I'd leave thinking thank god I became human again before these friends gave up on me. I'd think I'll keep getting invited now that they've seen I can laugh and be social again. I was wrong.

Now the good place I'm in is tainted. I'm missing my friends. I have no idea what happened.

I'm invisible again.

Spoke Too Soon

2007-12-19T03:49:00.001-08:00

I'm starting to lose it.

I just got a new computer (the boyfriend built it) and the USB ports in the front aren't working.

There are no empty ones in the back.

I want to put my files back on my computer, but I can't do it easily. I just unhooked one of the things in order to save some stuff onto a Flash drive so I could have it for work. Then I put it all back where it was and went to email some smaller files to myself.

But....

I forgot that I don't have any files on here yet other than the one load of stuff I just took off my camera.

It's frustrating. It's making me angry. And the anger is where it all begins.

I don't want to fall apart again.

Cycling

2007-12-19T03:27:00.000-08:00

No, I don't mean on a bicycle.

I mean my moods.

Right now, I feel really up. I'm energized, talking fast, feeling on top of the world.

A week ago, I was a wreck. The wreck time lasts about a week, and the beginning of it is really, really low.

This is my third cycle like this in the past 6-8 weeks.

It's been very scary, and I wish I knew if my lows are being triggered by external or internal happenings. I think I'd feel more comfortable if I knew.

I'm trying to hide the worst of it- even with my therapist. I don't want anyone to know I've sunk to the kind of low I had as an adolsecent.

I wish I didn't need to appear stable.

Being A Bad Friend

2007-12-13T17:02:00.000-08:00

Today, I was a bad friend.

In fact, I was a bad friend all week.

I'm too embarassed to admit that it's for the same reason- I'm struggling with a bit of depression. I hate being a bother.

Instead, I've cancelled plans with the same friend twice. Worse still, I played with this blog template while on the phone with this friend. I couldn't muster up any enthusiasm for the conversation.

My boyfriend told me I need to be meaner- put myself first more often.

I guess I'm starting tonight.

Deserted

2007-12-13T16:56:00.000-08:00

We had a snowstorm today.

I heard that the roads were treacherous and traffic-filled so I took my time leaving work.

When I finally did leave, it turned out that the traffic was everywhere except on my ride home. I passed long lines going the other way or taking a different exit, but my ride was rather smmoth.

In fact, at one point I looked at the road in front of me and felt like I was in another universe.

I could only see a few feet in front of me because of the slope of the road.

The plows hadn't been there yet so the street was still covered.

A two-lane stretch of highway, covered in white, with no cars in sight.

I wish I'd had my camera.

Hello World!

2007-12-13T16:27:00.000-08:00

Ahhhhh!!!!

It's good to breathe again!

Yay to new space!