A Friend's Mania

I've been talking to my friend who is Bipolar.  It's been a good relationship for both of us, sharing our experience and feelings about the illness.  She's been in a state of depression not unlike the one I went through just a short time ago. She's been trapped on the sofa, listening to the clock tick; unable to function. Things have begun to change, however...

She called me just the other day.  She was speaking quite fast and telling me how much she had accomplished.  She had scrubbed her floor on her knees the night before so meticulously that her knees were bruised.  She had made an elaborate chicken soup for her boyfriend who is battling a cold.  The next day, she did laundry (something that has been piling up for a while and has been causing her a great amount of anxiety), drove 40 minutes to her psychiatrist's office for meds that she was about to run out of, which was another source that had been a source of anxiety prior to that.  All throughout the conversation she was swearing like a sailor, using words I'd never heard her use before.  She said she was on her fourth cup of coffee and had been chain smoking.

I spoke to her again yesterday.  She had gotten up at 4:30a, made breakfast for her boyfriend, did Pilates (she's been worried over her weight gain from her meds), did more laundry, and organized her pantry.  It was only 10:00 am when I talked to her and she'd already accomplished all these things.  She wasn't talking quite as fast, but still I was concerned.  I expressed to her that I was afraid she was kicking up into a mania.  She came up with several excuses as to why she thought she wasn't, but wasn't totally closed off to the possibility.  I didn't want to let the air out of her balloon in case she really was just having some good days, but that seems unlikely to be the situation. 

I asked her just how much she had slept the night before.   She had gone to bed about 9:30, but had gotten up at 1:30a because of her cat, and then as I mentioned, she was up at 4:30a. Alone, it's an acceptable amount, although I don't know how long she was up in the middle of the night.  What concerned me was that she takes Temazepam for sleep, which is a hypnotic sleep aid.  I used to take it, and I slept like the dead.  Nothing woke me up.  Maybe that's just me.  Nevertheless, she was wide awake when she got up in the morning and had the same amount of energy that she did when I spoke to her.  Things that make you go Hmmm.

She had a psych appointment that afternoon and I urged her to tell her doctor explicitly all the things she had done over the last few days.  I could be wrong, but felt it was worth mentioning.  I later learned (indirectly) through her Mom that her doctor had increased her Geodon, so maybe she was detailed enough.  Then again, she did call her Mom with a long laundry list of things she wanted her to do to help her develop a structure and take the load off her.  It was so long that her Mom had to stop her in the middle of it.  Too much spontaneous gusto.

My big worry is about her family.  While they are eager to help her and want to be as supportive as they can, I think that they will be so relieved that she feels better they will not recognize her behavior for what it is.  She did drive to her Mom's after she got into a fight with her boyfriend.  Her Mom called my Aunt afterward and stated that she was not "flying high".  They don't realize that mania can doesn't always present itself the same way every time, or that the symptoms aren't always consistent.  It seems to me that she was being dismissive. I also don't think that her family understands that in some ways mania can be more dangerous than depression (suicidal tendencies notwithstanding).  It's not just overly buoyant behavior.  Even my Aunt, who is very supportive of me and has made the effort to become somewhat informed about Bipolar, was smiling at some of the behaviors her Mom was describing.  It's not funny, nor amusing.  I also heard her describing to her Mom that Bipolars can be reeled back in somewhat during mania.  I had to stop her and tell her emphatically and unequivocally, "NO!"  Mania is like a steam engine.  There is a reason you have to call your psychiatrist immediately.  Only treatment will take care of it.  Once it has flared, it will only suck up more oxygen until it is a roaring fire. 

There are so many things that her Mom has said to my aunt that have disheartened me.  I can only be here for her and hope that my support and experience makes a difference.  One thing I do know is that I can't break through a mania.  I'm not that powerful; nothing but medication is.  I can only hope and pray that the increase in her Geodon is strong enough to balance her out.

A Little Bit About Everything

I hate hard days.  Yesterday was especially challenging in a couple different ways.  It didn't help the downward trend I've been experiencing.  Now, on top of feeling sad I'm filled with dread and self-loathing.  It's almost impossible not to be driven to distraction by these feelings when it gets this way.  I'm filled with worry and disgust.  There is nothing I can do, things are what they are and no amount of thinking about it is going to change things, and yet I am drawn to these thoughts like a moth to flame.  Such is the Bipolar mind and life.  At least I have a therapy session tonight.  Maybe I can purge a little of this rotten feeling.

Adding to my rotten feeling, we had to put our family dog down yesterday.  It's really my aunt's dog, but we all loved the little old girl.  She was 13 years old and had gotten very sick.  She had a massive tumor in her stomach and had stopped eating, was having seizures and several other problems caused by it.  My aunt decided it was the humane thing to do since the little dog was suffering so.  My aunt could not bear to go in while the procedure was performed, so I did.  I couldn't stand the idea of her being alone and scared when they did it.  I was surprised that they didn't do it in an examining room.  They had a very nice sitting room with a sofa and pillows, and an arm chair.  It was a very peaceful and comfortable environment.  I was able to hold her in my lap and love her.  She was very relaxed and not scared at all.  The doctor was loving and sweet to her.  She went peacefully in my arms, although she did try to bite the doctor when he first began to administer the injection.  It is a very surreal but painful experience to have a little life--a breathing, living creature--in your arms and then feel it drift away.  With my arm wrapped around and under her, I was able to feel everything relax and slow down, and her breathing slowly stop.  I literally felt her life go out of her.  I'm glad I did it because her life ended with someone loving her, not with a bunch of strangers, but I will remember the experience forever and it hurts.  Rest peacefully, little Rosebud.

On a more positive note, I have been speaking with my friend that I mentioned before--the girl I used to babysit who is Bipolar.  She is in a very depressed state and is not coping well.  I have found that talking to her is also comforting to me.  I am able to relate to her very deeply; I feel very strongly about her situation.  It wasn't but a few months ago that I was in the same situation.  I also find it therapeutic for me to talk to her as well, it reminds me how far I have come from those dark, dark days.  I do my best to relate to her, to let her know she is not alone.  I am trying to help her understand that recovery comes slowly, that she will not wake up one day and suddenly feel better.  I hope it is helping.  I look forward to continuing our conversation and hopefully witnessing small improvements over time.  I really want her to get better.  I know the place she is in, and no one should have to live in that prison.

So, that's pretty much what's going on.  I'm hoping today will be a better day.

Depressive Without a Cause

I haven't been writing a lot lately since I haven't really had much on my mind.  I still don't, really.  Well, that's not entirely true.  I just haven't really explored my thoughts and feelings, so they aren't well organized yet.  I started feeling kind of depressed yesterday, which has carried over to today, and I'm really not sure why.  It's disappointing too, which kind of compounds the problem.  I feel like now that we seem to have hit on a good cocktail of meds, this shouldn't happen.  So, to feel depressed is, in and of itself, depressing. 

I went over the last few days to see if there was anything I could pinpoint as a trigger and could not find anything.  It was my 40th birthday on Thursday, and I had a wonderful day.  I was not upset at turning 40, in fact I had been enthusiastic about it.  My family went out of their way to make the day special.  So, this wasn't something that caused my problem.  I've had something of a cold the last several days and have felt under the weather, but that is only a nuisance at best.  Things are fine with Mr. PolarBabe.  The kids are doing well.  What gives?

I understand that there will always be cycles in my mood, medication or no. Understanding that doesn't actually mean I accept it. I want what I want, and the rest be damned. I hate that empty, aching feeling that runs from my chest to my abdomen; it feels as if my insides are weeping.  I know that there are people who keep mood charts and that helps them see a regular pattern to their moods.  If that works for them, great.  I choose not to do this.  To me, it seems just a little obsessive over the illness.  I suppose it helps some people plan for mood fluctuations, but I don't know what "plans" can be made.  Oh look!  Here comes a happy day!  Yippeee!  Oh shit!  I'm gonna feel like crap tomorrow.  Better take some extra Xanax with me just in case.  I don't know.  Maybe I'm minimizing a useful tool, but I can't even keep track of when my period is due and that's just once a month.  (I know, TMI.  Sorry.)  I still think mood charts are obsessive. 

Back to the matter at hand.  I'm down.  I'm not crying and curled into the fetal position depressed, but I'm sighing, not showered and lethargic depressed.  I have laundry to do today and I'm dreading it.  The thought of getting back into the weekly school routine tomorrow overwhelms me.  I guess that's what the Ativan is for.  I hate relying on so many fucking pills.  I really do.  Whine. Whine. Whiiiiiiiiiinnnnne.

I hope this blows over soon.  I'm kinda sick of me right now.